“Oh, right.” In the morning’s furor I’d forgotten that we’d been called in to investigate a far more mundane situation. “Tank, get us out of here.”
Reid’s eyes glowed soft white and the ground shook. The floor of the pit began to rise, and within seconds we were at street level again.
I nodded toward the zoo’s entrance. “Mercury, Helios, Firelight, you go ahead. I’ll stay behind with Tank to make sure the lions’ bodies are secured so our tissue manipulator can’t make a comeback.”
“Got it,” Benjamin said. “Come on, guys.”
The three of them began to walk toward the entrance.
The sight of Benjamin’s codename on his back filled me with awe. The five of us had come far in the last half year, but he’d come the farthest. As far as I knew, he was the only reformed supervillain that had ever served on a superhero team, and as he’d just demonstrated, he was arguably the most valuable one of us.
I took a moment to appreciate the emblems we’d chosen to sew onto the backs of our uniforms beneath our codenames, something no other team had ever done. Marco’s dark purple tunic bore a stylized yellow sun. Ember’s emerald green tunic sported a dog’s paw print. Benjamin’s gray tunic displayed the unmistakable sign of a medic: a red cross.
I turned to ask Reid if he could make some kind of earthen cage for the carcasses but saw that he was examining his feet. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“The lions were able to maul you because I screwed up.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I should’ve assumed the fence would fall in. That was an amateur mistake.”
I carefully chose my reply. “Have I ever punished anyone on this team for mistakes in battle?”
“No, but—”
“You just said it: no.” I put my hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed, becoming as hard as the rocks he could move with his mind. “Reid, relax,” I whispered. “I’m not Patrick. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I deserve—”
“We all deserve to go home and have breakfast.” I gave him a little shake. “We’re not doing the eye-for-an-eye thing, remember? If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you do the dishes this morning, but for Pete’s sake, forgive yourself. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”
“You almost died. I watched you get torn apart because I trapped you with lions.”
“Of course I almost died. We’re superheroes. We can’t go a week without someone shooting at us or pulling knives on us. It comes with the territory. Stop hating yourself.”
He gave me an unreadable glance but nodded once.
I pointed to the corpses. “Let’s get the lions back inside the zoo. I doubt the zoo officials want them in the middle of the road.”
He held up his hand and dirt from a nearby yard flew to the lions to form small, hard planks beneath them. The lions rose on their little platforms and followed us into the zoo.
Reid went ahead of me, allowing me to see the white-capped mountain on the back of his red tunic.
Once inside the zoo, stone cages sprung up around the bodies. Reid directed the cages to the lions’ former enclosure, then dusted off his hands. We hurried toward the aviary, a low building decorated with a mural of brightly-colored parrots and other tropical birds.
Inside, the three others were huddled around a spot on the wall and running their hands over it. The bird house wasn’t nearly as noisy as I expected it to be; the birds lived behind thick glass that muffled their calls.
“I know who we’re dealing with,” Benjamin said without preamble. “This was the Rowe twins.”
“Who?” I recognized the surname, but I didn’t know the individuals.
Benjamin dragged a finger down the wall again. The stone looked…weird. I was reminded of my favorite photo editing software on my phone, in which I could swirl and warp pictures. The bricks appeared as if someone had swirled them slightly, little curves and whorls appearing where there should’ve been straight lines of mortar and rock.
“The woman who broke into the aviary was Alysia Rowe. She’s our age. She and I played together when we were kids, though I wouldn’t call her an old friend. She coined the nickname ‘Bleeding Heart Benjamin.’ When we were five or six she killed my pet frog because she thought it was funny when I cried.”
I already hated her.
“What caused the swirling?” Marco asked.
“That’s the calling card of her power. She walks through solid objects, but it’s not a clean job.” He pointed toward a pane of glass across the dim room. It was droopy and swirled in the middle. “She came for the Socorro doves. According to the plaque on the exhibit, they’re extinct in the wild, so they must be extremely valuable.” He ran a hand over the bricks again. “A hired thief. She’s all grown up now.”
“Any idea who hired her?” I asked.
Benjamin shrugged. “Could’ve been anybody. My family must’ve contracted with three dozen private parties over the years, and that’s not counting the corporate accounts. I’m sure the Rowe family works for people I’ve never heard of. There are lots of rare bird collectors who would pay Alysia to steal the doves.”
“Who’s her twin?” I asked, studying the odd patterns on the wall.
Benjamin grimaced. “Will Rowe, my brother’s best friend. We called him a necromancer. He can’t manipulate human corpses, for some reason, but like you all saw today, animals are no problem for him. I suspected we were dealing with the twins when Reid mentioned tissue manipulation, but I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure. The swirls confirmed that it was Alysia, and I’ve never met anyone else who can do what Will can.” He glanced at Ember. “I’d suggest you do a mental scan for him in one of the nearby houses, but no doubt he beat feet as soon as we went back into the zoo.”
Marco gestured toward the Socorro dove exhibit. “Why did they set the animals free if this was a robbery?”
Benjamin ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, um, about that. I can guarantee you that Mom has told everyone in my old circle that I defected to the heroes. I’m not sure, but I’m guessing Alysia and her brother did this just to be brats and cause problems for us. It’s really not supervillain style to deliberately draw attention to our… their crimes. Not unless they’re paid to be terrorists like my Uncle Mike usually is. You guys know him as The Destructor.” Benjamin sighed. “I think we can expect a lot more stunts like this.”
I pulled out my phone. “I’m calling Captain Nguyen. Tell him what you just told me. I’d like to see the frog killer and her brother behind bars, and if you’re anticipating Super attacks, the police are going to want to know.”
I dialed the police liaison and gave him the all clear. A few minutes later a squad of police officers arrived at the scene, flanked by zoo officials.
One of the zookeepers dissolved into hysterics when he saw the dead lions, but upon seeing my shredded and bloodstained uniform, tearfully admitted that perhaps we’d had no choice. I didn't bother explaining the truth about their deaths.
Marco, Reid, and Ember gave their statements and left the bird house one by one. I stayed behind while Benjamin talked to Captain Nguyen about his suspicions regarding the twins’ motives. The Captain nodded and took notes, grim-faced.
Finally, he flipped his notebook shut and pocketed it, then shook Benjamin’s hand.
Benjamin joined me at the doorway. “Home? I’d kill for a shower.”
I winked at him. “You couldn’t kill someone even if they were trying to kill you. Bleeding Heart Benjamin, remember?”
Hurt flashed in his eyes.
I shook my head. “The difference between me and Alysia Rowe is that unlike her, I love that bleeding heart.”
“You love it? That’s some pretty heavy language, Miss Battlecry.”
“Oh, stop. Let’s not go there.”
He chuckled and walked past me, and I took a deep breath before I followed. We joined our team by the zoo gates and walked down the sleepy residential streets of Saint Catherine toward our headquarters.
Half an hour later, we stumbled through the front door of our new headquarters. Without so much as taking off our boots, we trooped up the stairs, down the hall, and into our separate bedrooms.
I heard the sounds of four bodies falling into bed as I peeled off my destroyed uniform. My emblem, a five-pointed star containing the city’s seal, was barely distinguishable beneath the bloodstains. I threw the rags in the garbage and crawled under my heavy quilt.
The last thing I saw before I went to sleep was my calendar hanging on the wall, and that day’s date circled, with a little sad face drawn in the corner.
2
I pushed the sizzling vegan sausages back and forth in the frying pan with my spatula. Even though I’d done everything Reid had told me to do, they were still charred and shriveled.
Sighing, I tipped them onto the plate lined with a paper towel and placed the plate on the table. The toaster beeped, and four pieces of toast popped out at once.
After putting the pan in the sink to soak, I grabbed the toast and prepared the pieces to order: butter and cinnamon for Marco, peanut butter and a buttload of honey for Benjamin, peanut butter and flax seeds for Reid, and mashed avocado, tomato slices, and ground pepper for Ember. I set a bowl of melon and containers of almond yogurt on the table.
Though the meal comprised breakfast foods, it was half past twelve.
The digital clock on the wall displayed the date. Every time I looked at it, my stomach lurched.
“Food’s ready,” I called to my team in the living room.
While they settled into their seats around the table, I poured glasses of water and tossed the bottle of multivitamins to Ember, who doled them out.
“Hey, Jill, where’s your lunch?” Marco asked through a bite of toast.
“I’m not hungry.” I sipped my water and swallowed my vitamin. The glare of the clock almost made me throw it up.
“Is this because of what that idiot online said about you gaining weight?” Benjamin asked. “It’s winter. Everyone gains weight.”
I looked away. “No, it’s not that. I just don’t have an appetite right now.”
They continued to eat and chat, but Ember gazed at me while she ate her healthy meal. I know today is hard for you, Jill. If you want to talk about it, I’d love to listen.
I’m okay. I tipped my glass back and forth, swirling the water around. A little sad, I guess, but way better than I was last year.
Regular smooching does tend to soothe heartache. Ember’s mental tone was teasing, and she glanced at Reid, who was watching a heated discussion about sparring practice.
“—so no, the only reason you can’t beat Reid in a sparring match is because you suck at sparring. Muscles have nothing to do with it.” Marco crossed his arms and scowled at Benjamin.
Benjamin looked affronted. “First, I do not suck. Second, Reid has about twenty more years of experience than I do.”
“Dude, you were two feet from that deer but somehow you still hit me. You suck.”
The squabble turned into name-calling, but I didn’t bother breaking it up. Their brotherly argument only served to increase my unhappiness.
I turned back to Ember. I’ll take you up on that offer right now.
We excused ourselves and left the room, stopping at the stairs. I sat down on the bottom step and rested my face in my hands.
Ember joined me and put her arm around my shoulders. “I know what you’re thinking, that it shouldn’t hurt after four years. But grief doesn’t work like that.”
“Everybody dies, though. Why does his death still hurt so much?” My voice broke on the last word. “I’ve lost three baby siblings. Why does Gregory’s death hurt the most?”
Ember squeezed me. “Maybe because you knew him better, had a relationship with him. Maybe because you didn’t have any closure. Perhaps if you’d had a chance to bury him…”
I nodded, and then the sobs began.
My little brother Gregory had been murdered on December twenty-seventh four years ago, the worst day of my life.
Not only had the Westerners attacked Chattahoochee camp that day, but each subsequent year something terrible had happened on the day to compound the memories. A year ago, I’d found out that I was being released into public service in Saint Catherine, to Patrick’s team, though it took me a few weeks to appreciate how unfortunate I was to serve under him.
Marco exited the kitchen. He saw Ember and me and hurried over, kneeling down next to me. “Hey, hey. Is this about what happened with the lions?”
I shook my head and wiped my eyes. “Today’s December twenty-seventh.”
Marco froze, his eyes taking on a distant look. “Oh.” He stood up and held onto the banister, then walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch. “Oh.”
I dried my eyes and joined Marco on the couch, where we sat in heavy silence for a few minutes.
Dishes clinked in the sink, then Benjamin and Reid came out. Benjamin sat down in the last empty spot next to me. “What’s going on?”
“Gregory died four years ago today,” Ember said.
I rested my head on Benjamin’s shoulder. He patted my hand and stroked my hair. “Tell me about him. He was important to you, so he’s important to me.”
“Gregory was the best,” Marco said, his voice airy with nostalgia. “He was always telling jokes and coming up with crazy plans to build these huge forts in the woods, or trick people into believing something stupid. When he was ten, he managed to convince Elder St. James for three days that he could see the future. When we told Elder the truth, he was laughing too hard to be mad.”
“Gregory was the good one,” I grumbled, not raising my head off Benjamin’s shoulder. “The rest of us Johnson siblings are jerks, but he was sweet.”
Benjamin continued to stroke my hair. “I have to disagree with that. You’re not a jerk.”
“What happened four years ago?” Reid asked. “The Westerners, right?”
My hand curled into a fist. “They broke into the camp. Gregory was on watch with Elder. Gregory got into a fight with one near the big creek that runs through camp. The creek was swollen from all the winter rain, and the Westerner punched Gregory. Gregory fell into the creek and…”
“He never resurfaced,” Marco finished. “We searched every inch of the creek bank, but his body was gone. He wasn’t the best swimmer, and the creek is ridiculous this time of year. He probably drowned in less than a minute.” He sighed. “He was fourteen. Fourteen-year-olds aren’t even old enough for watch, but Elder thought Gregory’s power was ideal for the job.”
Reid placed a comforting hand on my knee. “I’m so sorry. I know exactly what it’s like to lose loved ones to the Westerners.”
“Who are the Westerners?” Benjamin asked. “They never bothered my family while I was growing up. What kind of monsters just pick off kids like that?”
I raised my head off of Benjamin’s shoulder and wiped my nose with my sleeve. “They’re the worst kind of Supers—they believe they’re superior to normal people and that it’s insulting for us to serve the country as superheroes. They hate us so much for it that they’re willing to kill. They killed my cousin Christiana, too.”
“And Hank Theodorakis,” Marco said. “He was from the far side of Chattahoochee. His mom died from grief. He was sixteen.”
“My mom’s friend Lisette Monroe,” I said, remembering a story my mom had told me. “She was thirteen.”
Benjamin laced our fingers together. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
We sat in the quiet living room, and eventually the conversation turned to lighter subjects. Marco picked up his latest knitting project, a winter hat in vibrant blues and yellows.
The clicking of his needles was relaxing, and I repositioned myself on the couch, my head in Benjamin’s lap and my legs draped across Marco’s.
Ember and Reid sat at the desk across the room, speaking in low voices. Curious, I focused on what they were saying.
My
stomach clenched. They were making a packing list for tomorrow’s road trip. I had actually managed to not think about it for several hours.
“Sweetheart, you’re green,” Benjamin said, stroking my cheek. “Do you feel sick?”
“Tomorrow,” I groaned. “I don’t want to go.”
Marco snorted. “That’s a one-eighty from the speech you gave us when we got the summons. What happened to all that confidence?”
What had happened was I’d had a month to ponder my own question: what’s the worst they could do to me? Reid, Marco, and Ember had offered various possibilities, namely removing me from service, branding me like an animal, or marrying me off to whomever my father chose. Possibly all three in that order. Marco had suggested the last one, dropping the name of my one-time “suitor,” Matthew Dumont, as a possible threat.
That idea was almost funny—I hated Matthew and the feeling, I was sure, was quite mutual—but the point still stood. My father had the right to contract with any camp boy’s father and get rid of me.
But I wasn’t afraid of those suggestions, finding them all a tad melodramatic. The real threat lay in being moved to a different team.
I was a rabble-rouser. According to our laws, I’d led innocent, pure superheroes down the path of destruction. I’d declared myself the leader of the team despite being female. I’d even welcomed a reformed supervillain into the fold, though I’d eat my own arm before I confessed that to the elders. As far as they were concerned, Benjamin Trent was dead. Benjamin “Corsaro,” on the other hand, was alive and adapting well to his new life as a superhero.
The elders would see me as an upstart who needed a firm hand from an established, capable leader. I could be sent to any team in the country, but I’d probably be moved far away from Saint Catherine, the scene of the crime.
I absolutely had to plead my case in such a way that they’d see my side. But would Elder Campbell believe our account of his son’s violence and treachery? Could any man who’d raised the likes of Patrick Campbell have pity on anyone? I expected nothing but judgment from him.
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