I looked closer. On the cover was a collage of photos, some of people, some of sites of rescues in different parts of the country. Across the bottom of the page, in huge white letters, were the words, “Saviors? Or a Danger to Humanity?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” I snatched up the magazine. “I thought we’d convinced her.”
“We did,” Kirby said. “Everything in there about HQ is positive. She profiled each one of us and raved about Adam’s honor and nobility.”
“And then she trashed everybody else.” Trace looked grim as he retrieved the mag from my hand. He flipped it open and turned a couple of pages. “‘Not all superhero agencies hold to such high values. In fact, some go so far as to be villainous, perpetuating the same crimes organizations like HQ are in business to stop.’ She mentions six crimes that may or may not have had super abilities involved. Then she talks about Chicago.” He threw the magazine down. “Three columns on us. Three pages,” he spit, “on speculation and negativity.”
I picked up the magazine and skimmed as I sat next to Kirby, but it was pretty much as Trace had described. A sidebar talked about other groups, organizations that protested the so-called reverence and permissiveness of the government and the people who’d benefited from superhero work. There was even a group calling itself Citizens Against Superhero Existence. I shivered, imagining death squads coming after anyone with special abilities.
“Is this what Adam wanted to meet about?” I asked.
“Part of it.” He came into the room, still exuding so much fury I didn’t need to see the aura. I could feel it. But he appeared normal except for his eyes. I’d never seen his eyes blaze before. My skin felt scorched, and something inside me started to burn.
When he turned to me, my breath caught. My heart paused, then thudded extra hard, once. Goosebumps pebbled my flesh. I was so shocked at my reaction I almost said, “What the fuck?”
“I told you the interview was a bad idea,” he said, still looking at me.
I couldn’t focus. My body was trying to tell me something my head wouldn’t compute. “I don’t think so,” I finally said. “If we hadn’t met with her, she might have painted us with the same brush. Maybe the tone of the entire article would have been anti-superhero.”
“Maybe.” He slouched into the chair between Trace and me. His leg brushed mine and something fluttered through my chest.
Summer set the coffee pot on the trivet in the center of the table and joined us.
“Thanks, Summer.” Adam continued, “It doesn’t matter that she treated us well. The guy who just left wanted to hire us because of that creep in Dallas with the EMP voice who uses it to turn off alarm systems and steal things.”
“An isolated incident,” I tried to soothe. The more he talked, the more scarlet his emotions became. Not anger anymore, but . . . passion?
“We also got a call from a guy who wondered if we have a clairvoyant on the staff. He’s a bookie. And—” He stopped, glanced at me from the corner of his eye, and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done. We just need to be on the same page about some things.”
“Adam, we’re not going to take illegal jobs!” Kirby said. “I can’t believe you’d think for a second one of us would.”
“Of course I don’t. I’m not trying to warn you. But I’m not always the one who answers the phone or accepts assignments. Our response has to be consistent.”
Kirby subsided. While he was our front man, we were often approached individually on behalf of the whole organization, either at events or through our outside jobs.
“So what’s our a party line?” Summer asked.
“HQ does not engage in criminal activities of any sort. Our purpose is the opposite. We undergo constant training and preparation to guard against accidents or difficulties like they faced in Chicago, but our profession is as dangerous as law enforcement or rescue work, and we can’t avoid every difficulty.”
“Sounds good.” Trace shifted like he was going to stand. “No different from our usual propaganda.”
“It’s not propaganda,” Adam corrected, “and there’s more.”
Trace sat back down. “More what?”
Adam tapped his fingers on the table, a restless gesture I wasn’t used to seeing in him. It echoed something inside me that I wasn’t used to, either.
“I have a meeting with Tulie tomorrow.”
“You’re going to San Diego?” I blurted.
He shook his head. “He’s coming here.”
We went silent. Tulie leaving San Diego was as unthinkable as Adam leaving the DC Metro area.
“Because of the article?” I asked. Tulie’s group hadn’t even been mentioned.
“He wouldn’t say. But he was upset.”
Trace responded for all of us. “Well, shit.”
My phone rang into the silence. I started. Adam’s lips actually lifted in something resembling a smile.
“Sorry.” I checked the number. It was Crystal, who hadn’t answered when I called her on my way back from the restaurant.
“Go ahead and take it.” Adam stood just as the front door chimed. “I’ll get that.”
I flipped open my phone and walked down the hall to the small office the rest of us shared.
“Crystal, thanks for calling back.”
“I couldn’t believe I missed you. I must have been on the train. It was a quick trip, one stop, but of course that’s what happens when you’re expecting a call. Like they bring your food as soon as you go to the bathroom.”
“Ah . . . yeah. It’s okay.” I went to the window overlooking the alley between our building and the next. It was the ugliest view possible, trashcans and an overflowing Dumpster and pools of liquids I didn’t want to think about. As Crystal rattled on, maybe in an effort to prevent me from saying what she thought I was going to say, my mind pulled Adam into my mental viewer.
I wasn’t thinking of him like a brother now. For the first time, I’d witnessed his passion with my ability rather than my sight. It was one thing to know we were the most important thing in the world to him. It was another to feel it. It was powerful, and I craved it. Wondered, after the conversation I’d overheard this morning, if maybe I was different.
Crystal laughed nervously, snapping me back to the call. “Okay, tell me. He’s cheating, isn’t he?”
I sighed. “Crystal, I told you, I can’t know that.”
“So what do you know?”
“I can tell that his feelings for this woman are platonic, and so are hers for him. I have no idea what they’re doing there every week, or where they go afterward. But he’s not in love with her.”
“He doesn’t need to be, to fuck her,” she snarled. “If that’s all—”
“There was no lust, either. Lust is an emotion, Crystal. So is attraction. There was none of that.” I heard her start crying, though she didn’t say anything. “Talk to him. Tell him you’re worried. And maybe see a marriage counselor to address the reasons you thought he was cheating, and the reason he’s not telling you about this. Okay?”
Crystal gave a very subdued agreement, thanked me, and asked where to send my check. I told her, hung up, and stared out the window some more. My stomach hurt. This was the last time I was going to do a favor like this.
“I didn’t realize your job could get so sordid.”
I didn’t turn. “How long have you been standing there?” Eavesdropping, but I didn’t accuse him. I hadn’t shut the door. I didn’t have to worry about my teammates overhearing a call like that. I probably wouldn’t have cared about Evan overhearing, if he hadn’t sounded so disapproving.
“Aren’t the ethics of dipping into someone’s emotions without their permission a little dicey?”
I whipped around. “I don’t dip.”
He nodded toward th
e phone clutched in my hand. “That sounded like you did.”
“I was trying to help someone. I can’t help what I can see, but maybe I can do some good. That’s why I’m here, for cripes sake!”
“Doing what you did on that ledge is a little different from spying on cheating husbands.”
My hand tightened around the cell phone until my palm ached. “He wasn’t cheating. That was the point.”
“No, the point was to find out if he was.”
“It’s no different than being a private detective!” I was nearly shouting now, and Evan hadn’t changed position or expression. I had no idea what he was really feeling or thinking, and that added panic to the mix. I had become adept at stanching that panic—except when my defenses were compromised.
“It’s invasion of privacy.”
“I don’t dig that deep, Evan.”
“You did with me.”
Shit. I had. And I couldn’t defend it. I’d done it out of annoyance, not a higher noble purpose.
“I’m sorry,” I said, more subdued.
“Just because you can do something, Daley, doesn’t mean you should.”
He’d gone too far. It was one thing to point out my transgression, quite another to start lecturing. My anger flared again.
“Thanks for the lesson, Mr. Sanctimonious Perfection. Now what are you doing here?”
Evan seemed to deflate a little. His chin dropped to his chest, then he looked back over his shoulder. “I came to talk to Adam. We got interrupted the other night. But he’s a bit preoccupied.”
“To put it mildly.”
Trace appeared behind Evan in the doorway. “We’ve got a call, Dale.” Then he disappeared. Evan backed away as I ran through the door, cursing. I wasn’t dressed for a call. The others were dashing every which way.
“Kirby!”
She stopped and turned.
“Can you summon my duffle?”
She raised a hand. A distant clang was my locker flying open. There was a thud, and my green tote flew down the hall and slammed into the wall with another thud.
“Sorry,” she said, continuing toward the garage.
I called my thanks after her and bent to grab my bag. A foot came down on top of it before I could lift it. I rose to scowl at Adam, knowing what he was going to say.
“You’re not in any shape for this, Daley.”
I knew he was right. My hip was better today, but I didn’t have the agility I’d need if this was a criminal situation.
“What’s the call?”
“I don’t have time—”
“Then I’m coming. I won’t participate. But I’m not staying behind if you might need me.”
He growled—actually growled—in the back of his throat, then jerked up his foot and stalked away. I hefted my bag and followed, squeezing into the van with the rest of the team. I was relieved Evan wasn’t there.
Adam drove this time. The rest of us changed and put on our suits. Adam saw me in the rear-view mirror. “Daley.”
“I’m just being prepared,” I told him. “I’m not defying orders.”
Summer raised her eyebrows at me, but Trace and Kirby ignored us.
“What’s the situation?” I stomped into my boots and sat on the bench, trying not to acknowledge the pain that had flared in my hip with my movements. I wasn’t in the mood for Adam to be right.
“A partial building collapse,” Trace said. “One of the office buildings on M Street. Some people are trapped, but there’s evidence of a bomb and uncertainty if there could be more. They’re reluctant to send in too many rescue workers and endanger them.”
“Then I can help!” How dare Adam try to keep me away from this? “I can see where people are.”
“I know.” Trace flicked his eyes toward Adam, then fiddled with the strap of his glove.
There was no point belaboring it. I didn’t need to go into the building to find the auras of fear and pain of the people trapped in there. Even if they were unconscious, the emotions they’d felt when the collapse occurred would linger. Trace could work tirelessly to move rubble. Summer could toss pieces away with record speed. Kirby could summon debris that couldn’t be reached easily, and her power was only partly limited by the laws of physics. Adam, with his damage resistance, could go inside to retrieve victims once I’d pinpointed them. We were a perfectly matched team for this.
Almost as if someone had planned it.
I started to say so, but then we were there, and it didn’t matter. People were in danger, and rescuing them was our job. The police had barricaded several blocks around the damaged building, so we had to be cleared to enter the area. The cop who moved the sawhorse barrier aside told Adam they’d evacuated the buildings immediately surrounding the collapse. So we had no crowds watching, just the teams of rescue workers and structural engineers who were analyzing the debris when we arrived.
It wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined. The collapse was limited to a corner of the building, first and second floors. It hadn’t descended into the basement or dropped the floors above. Still, it probably encompassed a dozen offices and cubicle spaces, and as soon as we arrived, I could see waves of orange and mustard and red.
“There are a lot of people in there,” I murmured to Kirby, who stood beside me at the van while Adam talked to the people in charge. I wanted to rush in to save them, but I knew that could be disaster. We spent precious time planning as I pinpointed locations, the engineers described how the pieces would have to be moved and supported, and the HQ and rescue teams coordinated who would do what to get the people out.
Finally, we got started. The first six people were quickly extracted and handed over to paramedics. We couldn’t believe no bodies had been found. So far, everyone was alive. Our spirits rose, despite the dust and the exertion and the fear for the people inside.
“How many more?” Adam asked me after a few hours had passed. We were deep into the rubble now, and he’d long ago abandoned his attempts to keep me back. For my part, I pretended my screaming hip didn’t exist.
“Only a few.” I tugged off my dust mask and rechecked the aura locations I’d memorized. “Maybe four. Five. I can’t quite tell in the back if it’s one or three. They’re close together.” I opened my eyes and pointed at a spot on the diagram he was holding. “This one, right here? It’s dimming. We need to get them out fast.”
“But the two over here”—he pointed to where I’d marked them earlier—“are closer.”
“But they’re stronger. There’s less pain, more anxiety there. This one is dying.”
The engineer next to Adam shook his head. “It’s too risky. If we go that deep too fast, we could collapse more of the building on the ones up here.”
I ground my teeth to keep myself from arguing. I had a growing sense of desperation about that person, and wasn’t sure how I’d handle the guilt if they died. It would be my fault, even though it wouldn’t.
There was a shout from across the courtyard, where Kirby had been summoning concrete and office rubble away from the collapse. The engineer who’d been guiding her bent over her prone figure.
Adam and I rushed over. I caught a glimpse of Trace’s face as I ran past. He was holding up a support beam and couldn’t move. Summer raced to secure it, but even at her fast speed, it took time.
Kirby was conscious, frustration her biggest emotion, but there were undercurrents of confusion and suspicion. I knelt next to her, spotting the oozing, swelling wound partly hidden by her hair.
“What happened?”
“A chunk of concrete hit me in the head.” She started to sit. Adam tried to stop her, but she shook him off. “I’m okay. It just took me by surprise. Damned thing moved.”
“You were moving it,” Adam said.
Kirby glared
at him. “Not like that. It was coming toward the pile.” She pointed to the semicircle of stone and wood she’d been piling around her. “Then it swerved, went higher, and hit me in the head! It was deflected,” she accused, though I didn’t know who she was accusing.
“How?”
“Can we figure that out later?” Apprehension about why this was happening mixed with my fear for the people still inside. I couldn’t keep my empathic eye off the building. “There are still four people in there—”
A rumble cut me off. It took us all a few seconds to realize the structure was shaking. What the hell?
The regular people all shouted and ran back, away from the building. Trace stood resolute, holding up his beam, and Summer was a blur, trying to secure what was shaking loose.
“God, no,” I murmured, helpless. There was nothing I could do.
Adam moved away from us, and I thought he was heading for the man in charge until he dashed into a cavern we’d formed. I couldn’t help myself. I screamed, “No!” idiotically, cinematically.
Then I ran after him.
“Go back,” he gasped, tossing chunks of concrete.
I didn’t waste time arguing. “A little to the left.” I coughed in the dust. There was no time to replace the dust mask. I started heaving the chunks Adam had removed behind me. They flew out of the cavern before they hit the ground. Kirby was back on the job.
A moment later, Adam had uncovered a woman in a tattered suit. She moaned, screaming a little when he moved her leg. He gentled his hands but didn’t decrease his speed.
As soon as she was free, I grasped her under the arms and started pulling backward. “Ahead six feet, on the right,” I gasped.
Adam started to clear debris around the next person.
I blinked in the sunlight as I emerged from the cavern. Trace and Summer ran past me, into the dark, and paramedics swarmed the woman. I backed away and returned to the building. The rumble came again, louder, and small pieces showered me. My suit protected me, but I’d never put on my flexi-shield. Too late now.
The Color of Courage Page 9