by Sarah Kuhn
“I don’t want breathing exercises!” I blurted out. “I want . . . I want to know what this means. Ugh.” I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts on some semblance of a logical track. “Sorry, Lee. I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“It’s okay, you’re having emotional overload, I get it,” Leah said, taking the letter from Sam. “Let’s take a big ol’ step back and try to examine this from a semi-logical point of view. Could this be writing that’s just very similar but not exact?” She held the letter up, next to the writing on the wall. “Damn. That’s pretty exact, actually.”
“I mean, even if it’s just someone who figured out how to copy my dead mom’s writing, that’s still extremely creepy,” I said, rocking back on my heels.
“Do you have cameras in here?” Sam asked, gesturing around the bathroom.
“Ew, no!” Leah and I said in unison, swiveling to shoot him identical “gross” faces. Pancake gave him a disdainful side-eye.
“Sorry,” he said, laughing a little. “That would be, of course, totally invasive, pervy, and privacy-violating and not something you would ever do as a legit business. I’m just trying to think of ways to figure out how this showed up.”
“We do have a security camera right outside the bathroom, though,” Leah said, handing me back the letter. She scritched Pancake’s ears thoughtfully. “We could review that footage, see who comes in and out.”
I nodded, trying to grab on to this solid method of practical, real world investigation. I reached out and ran my fingertips over the writing, lingering on the swoop of an “S.” Somewhere in my gut, I knew whatever was behind this was not a practical, real world kind of thing. I mean, how many logical explanations for this could there be?
Nate and I had developed a bit of a big concept theory back when I’d been working with him on demon data collection and analysis. Essentially it boiled down to: Don’t twist yourself in knots trying to deny the fantastical. Because if it really seems like something involves, say, the supernatural machinations of a wannabe demon queen trying to take over San Francisco, or a bunch of literal bridezillas attempting to ruin your sister’s wedding . . . well, in our line of work, that’s often exactly what it is.
And . . .
I ran my fingertips over the wall message again. It really did sound like Mom. That kind of gentle, encouraging statement was exactly the kind of thing she’d have said to me as a kid. A hopeful flutter bloomed in my chest. Could this mean Mom was out there somewhere, trying to reach me? I didn’t even know how that would be possible, but I couldn’t bring myself to squash that flutter of hope. Then again, hadn’t I just been telling myself not to deny the impossible? In our supernaturally infested city, there had to be a decent number of explanations for how and why this could totally be happening. At least as many as the boring, wonder-killing explanations for why it was impossible.
Mom, are you out there?
“I’m calling Evie,” I said, taking my phone out of my pocket and punching in her number. “Maybe the team can come down and do some scans of the bathroom. Or at least take a look and tell me if they have any ideas on how to proceed.”
“Bea!” Evie exclaimed upon answering. She sounded overexcited, out-of-breath. “Wow, you’re actually calling me? Like, on the phone? Like, you kept your phone charged long enough to make a real, honest-to-god phone call?”
“Yes,” I said. If she’d been standing in front of me, I would’ve stuck out my tongue. “Why do you sound like you’ve been running a marathon? You hate running. Wait.” My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Did I interrupt you and Nate? Again? I’ve told you, please don’t answer your phone when you’re in the middle of—”
“No,” she said, cutting me off. “We’re not doing . . . that. Annie and I are on our way to the Wave Organ. A civilian who was on the scene yesterday claims their friend has gone missing.”
“Missing?” My brow crinkled. “I thought we saved everyone.”
“Me too,” Evie said. “I’m not sure what’s up, but we’re meeting Rose down there. She and her team have been scanning the area, and I think they’re actually going to set up a twenty-four-hour patrol, since we still don’t know exactly what caused the attack yesterday.”
I felt a stab of annoyance. I’d been watching my phone like a hawk all day (well, except for those few hours when I was at the Market, stuffing my face with various junk foods and hearing weird voices in my head). And now something exciting was finally happening, so why hadn’t Evie or Aveda sent me the Bat Signal?
“I’ll meet you down there too,” I said. “This is part of my superheroing duties now, right?”
“Yes,” Evie said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “But if you’re still working, I understand—”
“Nope, I’m done,” I said quickly. “Though . . .” I remembered why I’d called her in the first place. “I have some other weirdness to discuss with the team, whenever we’re done with this mission.” My eyes wandered over to the writing on the wall. Investigating Mom’s mysterious message could wait, particularly since we couldn’t think of tactics beyond looking at hours of boring video footage. No one seemed to be in imminent danger or missing. And when you’re a superhero, you have to constantly balance one crisis against the other and figure out what requires your most immediate attention. (At least, that sounded like something Aveda would say.)
“Got it,” Evie said. “We’ll be there in fifteen. See you then.”
I hung up and gave Sam my biggest, sweetest, toothiest grin.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You need a ride.”
* * *
The Wave Organ looked different today. That was to be expected, given that half of it wasn’t coming to life and growing all giant and attacking everyone. As Nate had mentioned, it had reconstituted itself and was just sitting there, benign and blocky as ever. But the current surrounding seaside atmosphere made it look different than it did in everyday tourist photos, even. Rose and her team had the area cordoned off with yellow police tape and people actually seemed to be respecting that and staying far, far away. Darkness was falling, the sun disappearing over the horizon, and the police tape fluttered gently in the breeze. That whole stretch of waterfront felt abandoned, eerie—like we were living in the beginning of a Hitchcock movie, just waiting for shit to get really and truly fucked up.
I shivered as a particularly bone-rattling gust of wind whipped through me, pulling my cape more tightly around my body. I was glad I’d changed into my official superheroing outfit before leaving It’s Lit—the extra bit of insulation Leah and I had built into the material was keeping me from going full-on popsicle.
I’d expected a whole crowd of gawkers or a fresh batch of out-of-towners who hadn’t got the message, but the only person around, other than Rose and Co., was the tourist Evie had mentioned on the phone; the one who claimed her friend had gone missing.
Rose had set the tourist up in a camp chair and a blanket just outside the perimeter of the police tape, and she was huddled up, staring vacantly into space and clutching a bright green bit of fabric to her chest. Evie, Aveda, Lucy, and I were standing just far enough away that Rose could brief us out of the tourist’s earshot.
“She refused to talk to anyone except Evie and Aveda,” Rose said, nodding toward the tourist. “And she refused to leave until she got to talk to them. I could have arrested her for interfering with a police scene, but . . .” Rose let out a small sigh—a rare crack in her stoic façade.
“Are you tired, darling?” Lucy said, concern creasing her forehead. “You’ve been on shift since the wee hours, plus you had that very early morning mission with Aveda and Bea. Isn’t there someone who can relieve you?”
“Yes, soon,” Rose said, reaching over and giving Lucy a reassuring shoulder pat. “Thanks, babe. We got the twenty-four hour watch schedule fully set up for my team this afternoon, but I wanted to stay until I w
as absolutely certain everything was under control.” She turned to me, flashing an exhausted half-smile. “Oh, and Bea—I have a little present for you, related to some of the things we discussed this morning.”
She reached into a large bag at her feet and pulled out a battered gray metal box. I recognized it as one of the traps her team used to contain certain kinds of demons. The traps were part of the same array of demon tech as the old-ass scanners and, like the scanners, they were in desperate need of modern improvements. I’d actually tinkered with one of the traps a few years ago when we’d been chasing a particularly elusive—and invisible—demon pest. I had figured out how to use a certain kind of metal to reinforce the trap and keep the demon good and locked in. It had been so successful, Rose’s team had added the upgrade to all of their traps.
“Oooh!” I said. “You’re giving this to me? I get to play with it?”
“I checked in with Nate earlier today,” Rose said. “He’s still analyzing our scans from Pussy Queen, and we’re going to try to get that funding for tech development as soon as possible. But in the meantime, I thought it might be best to at least try to prepare for whatever this latest menace is. You were so successful in your last experiment with these, I thought you could take an initial look for me?”
“I’d love to!” I said, taking the trap and cradling it against me reverently. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Evie studying me. Oh, crap, I was getting distracted by shiny things again, wasn’t I? Best to let her know I was totally dedicated to my new chosen profession. “Um. In between all of my super-important new superhero duties of course,” I added.
“Of course,” Rose said, nodding at me.
“So what exactly is the tourist saying?” Aveda said, all business as usual. She nodded toward the woman huddled in the camp chair. “Because all of the civilians trapped on top of those monsters yesterday were accounted for, every single one. So if she’s trying to say someone’s missing . . .” She let out a long huff. The very idea that Aveda had done less than her absolute best on a superheroing mission was more offensive to her than anything.
“That’s just it,” Rose said. “The way she tells it, her friend didn’t go missing during the battle yesterday. She went missing before that.”
“What?” Evie shook her head in disbelief. “Is this even related to the Wave Organ attack?”
“That’s all she would say before she insisted on talking to you,” Rose said with a weary shrug. “Her name is Tori, and the friend who went missing is Carmen. With that, I’ll leave you to it. I’m completing the final stages of a thorough scan, just to see if we can pick up anything else. Luce, can you help me canvass that last corner over there by the graffiti?”
“I can,” Lucy said. “But after that, you’re coming home with me, no arguments.”
“All right,” Aveda said, as Lucy and Rose headed off. She rolled her shoulders and focused her laser-sharp gaze on the tourist. “Let’s see what you can tell us, Miss Tori. If that’s even your real name.”
“Annie,” Evie admonished, nudging her in the ribs. “We’re not interrogating her. She may have lost a friend!”
“Or she may be trying to stir up trouble and gain attention while diverting important resources from an actual supernatural investigation,” Aveda said, her eyes narrowing. “In which case, I should definitely be Bad Cop.”
“You’re always Bad Cop,” Evie said, giggling.
I tuned out their strategizing and studied the tourist, Tori, for a moment. She really did seem distraught. And as I continued to study her, I realized she looked familiar.
“I saw her yesterday!” I blurted out.
Evie and Aveda stopped talking and stared at me quizzically.
“I mean. While I was running to meet you guys—she was one of the tourists in the group Lucy was evacuating,” I continued. “I think she actually mentioned her friend was missing. Anyway, we should talk to her. Um, I can be another cop. Good Cop Two. Or Bad Cop Two? Whatever you guys need.”
“You should observe, feel it out,” Aveda said, nodding at me. “Don’t jump in unless you feel you have something absolutely vital to add. It’s still your first day on the job, and I haven’t had a chance to share all of my important lessons with you. But here’s another one for future reference: You might want to wear something a little more . . . sedate when talking to civilians. It makes them more comfortable.” She gave my iridescent superhero outfit an unimpressed once-over, then turned on her heel and headed toward Tori.
“Really?” I muttered to Evie. “Aveda Jupiter is telling me to wear something sedate?”
“Give her a break, I think she’s actually trying to help—in her own way,” Evie said, laughing a little.
“She was just telling Maisy this morning not to judge my outfits,” I said peevishly. “Why does she get to do it?”
“I’m sure she would tell you she’s not judging, she’s advising,” Evie said. “She was so excited this morning about becoming your mentor. And she’s learned a lot over the years about when to turn the diva up and down. You just kind of have to interpret her lessons through the Aveda filter.”
“Or I could forego her ‘lessons’ and be my own damn self,” I grumbled, but Evie was already walking toward Tori. I scurried after her, self-consciously smoothing the skirt of my costume. Yeah, so I did look a little out of place. Evie was dressed in her usual jeans/hoodie non-fashion, and Aveda was clad in her version of casual: black leather pants and a fitted black tank top. In contrast, I looked like I was ready to take on Roller Disco Bootie Mashup Night. The shine off my costume was probably semi-blinding to anyone who dared look directly at me.
Well, what was so wrong with that? I was a superhero now, after all, and I was proud of that. Why not show it off?
Once we all reached Tori, I felt ridiculous looming over her, so I settled myself on the ground, tucking my legs under me. Evie followed suit—sort of—kneeling down and supporting herself by holding on to the back of Tori’s chair. Aveda, never one to give up ground, stayed standing, arms crossed over her chest.
“Hello,” Aveda said, officious tone fully deployed. “I am Aveda Jupiter and this is—”
“Evie Tanaka, I know, I’m a big fan,” Tori said. Her grip tightened around the green fabric she was still clutching to her chest, and she worried the material through her fingers. She turned to me. “And who are you?”
“Bea Tanaka,” I said. And because that sounded sort of vague and lonely by itself, I added, “Um, superhero-in-training.”
“Tell us what happened to your friend,” Aveda coaxed.
“And take your time,” Evie said, laying a comforting hand on Tori’s arm. “We know this must be very difficult for you.”
I wasn’t sure what to do—I didn’t exactly have a role here, they really did have both Good and Bad Cop covered. I shifted and then winced as the heavy material of my costume rustled loudly. Team Tanaka/Jupiter was a well-oiled machine, and I was a squeaky third wheel in search of a purpose. I settled for putting a hand on Tori’s other arm, offering some additional comfort. Good Cop 2, indeed.
“We were down here exploring yesterday when Carmen lost her wallet,” Tori said slowly. “We looked for hours, but we couldn’t find it. I told her it was probably long gone, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She’s very stubborn.” Tori shook her head, momentarily annoyed at the missing Carmen. “And beyond having all her IDs and stuff, I guess the wallet has sentimental value. She’s been schlepping that thing around since college.”
“Did you find it before the Organ attacked?” Aveda said, her voice growing impatient as she tried to keep Tori on track.
“Not exactly,” Tori said. “We retraced our steps along the water. Then I got the bright idea of going and checking with the folks in the Yacht Club.” She gestured to a small, squat building located a little ways down the shore. “I mean, I figured it was within the r
ealm of possibility that some Good Samaritan found it and turned it in, right? Because there are still some decent, honest people in this world, not everyone would see a wallet lying on the ground and snatch it without trying to return it to its proper owner—”
“Indeed,” Aveda said, through gritted teeth.
I couldn’t help but empathize with her a little bit. I mean, this wasn’t exactly what I’d imagined when I’d fantasized about being a superhero. This step-by-step questioning was actually kind of . . . boring. Just like staring at the Pussy Queen portal had been boring this morning.
My mind wandered back to all the weirdness with the bathroom wall and my mom’s handwriting. What the frak was happening there, anyway? Or was my overactive imagination acting up even more? Was this “mystery” just another shiny thing I was allowing myself to be distracted by? And on my first day on the superheroing job, no less. Then again, Leah and Sam had seen it too and they’d agreed—
“Did the Yacht Club have your friend’s wallet?” Evie’s voice snapped me back to reality. She gave Tori’s arm a reassuring squeeze.
“No,” Tori said, shaking her head back and forth vigorously as her eyes filled with tears. “And when I came back out, Carmen had vanished. I found her scarf on the path.” Tori held up the green piece of fabric she’d been clutching like a life preserver. “I started looking for her, but then the Organ attacked, and we had to evacuate. I never found her. I came back, and I’ve looked all over, combed every inch of this place. I’ve texted, I’ve called. She’s gone.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she buried her face in the scarf and let loose with some truly heart-wrenching sobs.
“Oh, no . . . it’ll be okay,” Evie soothed, putting an arm around Tori and giving her an awkward half-hug. “I promise you, we’ll do everything we can to find your friend. This area is currently undergoing a thorough supernatural scan and our resident mage has been working on a pretty powerful locator spell. I’m sure we’ll track her down.”