HeroRising

by Anna Alexander

  They made the visit to the hospital short and to the point and an hour and a half later returned to the station. He sent Coulter on the task of checking in with the other two members of their unit who were finishing up a case indirectly tied to Smithwick while he presumably went to grab a quick bite to eat. Instead of heading to the nearest coffee shop, he drove home and to the privacy of his one-hundred-year-old craftsman.

  The scent of lemon furniture polish tickled his nose as he entered, reminding him it was Tuesday. Once a week his baby sister came over to tidy up his house for extra spending money. Since he was rarely home, her duties consisted of vacuuming and wiping down the flat surfaces. She refused to do his laundry, but did make sure his kitchen was stocked with enough food for the week. Without her premade meals at the ready, he’d probably be a hundred pounds heavier from eating fast food seven days a week.

  “Abby? Are you still here?” he called out and made his way into the kitchen. A notecard with looping handwriting in purple pen was propped against the coffeemaker.

  Hey Bro,

  I bought you a few salads. I expect them all to be eaten by next week. Don’t make me hide the chocolate. I know where you stash it.

  Love ya, Abby

  He opened the refrigerator and took out a plastic carton and read the label. “Kale? What the fuck is kale?”

  Damn, now he was going to have to hide his candy bars.

  He flung the carton back inside and snagged an apple and a bowl of beef stew. As the seconds on the microwave whirled by, he crunched on the fruit and paced across the tile floor as he contemplated just how to make his next move. It wasn’t a matter of figuring out what had to be done but the thought of taking action had his palms sweating and his heart beating a mile a minute. Fuckin’ stupid, he knew. It was only a phone call. Really, how hard could it be?

  The timer dinged and he tossed the apple core into the compost bin and went into his office, sitting hard into the chair behind the desk. The bowl of lava that was his lunch needed time to cool anyway. Might as well man up and do the deed now.

  With a deep breath he scrolled through his contacts on his phone until he found the one he sought and pressed the Call button with his thumb. He tapped a drumbeat on the top of the desk as the phone rang, and rang, and rang.

  God, did he really want to leave a message?

  The ringing stopped. “Sheriff Briggs.” The smoky answer went into his ear and down his spine.

  “Brett. It’s Marco,” he choked out.

  Damn it. All these years later the woman still had the power to tie him in knots.

  The day they had met he thought the newest rookie from the academy named Brett was a man. Shook the hell out of him when a blonde bombshell walked into the room. Her confidence and no-nonsense demeanor was a target for every man in the department to try to get under her blues, but she never softened. Brett had been the hardest-working cop on the force and refused to indulge in any interoffice love affairs.

  But he had tried. Oh had he tried. Several times he had attempted to get her to see him as a man and not a fellow uniform. The closest she let him get to her was as a friend. Schmuck that he was, he accepted whatever she offered just to be near her.

  Then she moved away.

  Inside that hard shell the girl was as soft as a marshmallow and the years of ambivalent citizens and overly aggressive cops had taken their toll on her sense of justice. So she moved to the country where she became a sheriff. From what he had heard, she went and married some adrenaline-junkie river rafter and was now living in freakin’ happyland. Good for her.

  “Marco,” she exclaimed with a smile in her voice. “This is a surprise. What’s going on?”

  “The usual. Is all that fresh air making you long to return to our smog-filled streets?”

  “Oh yeah, not.” A high-pitched wail came over the receiver. “Crap, just a second.”

  Holy shit. Acid from his apple burned his tonsils. Did he hear what he thought he heard?

  “Sorry,” she said a moment later, a little breathless. “I’m still getting the hang of this baby thing.”

  “Are you babysitting?” he asked, though he knew the truth as he stretched out the query.

  “No. Didn’t you hear? I’m a mom now. Yay,” she finished in a strangled cheer. “Believe me, I question my sanity at times too. She’s only two months old, so she doesn’t do much but eat, sleep and poop, but I’ve been torn in a thousand different directions and have no idea what’s going to happen when I return to work. Kristos has been great, but I swear I’m screwing things up big-time.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” The words stuck in his throat, but it hurt him to hear her distress. “As long as I’ve known you, you never once failed to achieve what you’ve set out to accomplish. You’re just a perfectionist, Briggs.”

  “I guess we’ll find out in twenty years. If she’s clean, sober and rap-sheet free I guess I did a good job then, huh?”

  “You couldn’t ask for much more. What’s the little rug rat’s name?”

  “Moira Rose.”

  “That’s pretty, just like her mama. Bet she looks like you too.” He took a breath and said half in jest, “So, I guess you leaving your husband and running away with me is only a pipedream.”

  “It always was, Marco. You know it never would have worked out between us.”

  “Guess we’ll never know for sure.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, back to why I called. There’s a guy running around the state carrying a sword and tying up bad guys and he’s shown up in my jurisdiction. Have you heard anything about that?”

  There was a slight pause. “Yeah, I’ve heard some rumors.”

  Uh-huh. “Well, we have footage of him in action. Funny thing is, the way he moves reminds me of that fellow we helped out with last year. Your friend, the Chameleon. Has he relocated to the city?”

  “No, no, he still hangs out here in Cedar. Did your suspect wear a uniform? Could you see his face?”

  A tingle buzzed across his neck in warning. Brett might have sounded all concerned and helpful, but she was hiding something. “No, we couldn’t make out his features, and he wore street clothes. Let’s just get down to brass tacks here, Brett. With all my years on the force I’ve seen some strange shit, and your superhero friend ranks right up there on the top of that list. I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as he did the night we tried to take down Smithwick. Now I have some kind of copycat in my backyard with inhuman speed carrying a similar weapon. Do you know who this guy is?”

  “I’m sorry, Marco. I don’t.”

  “He’s hurt people, Brett. Maybe even killed someone.”

  “I’ve heard the stories.”

  “Then give me something to go on. I know you must have some sort of idea who this guy is. I don’t want to pull the friend card, but damn it, I hope that our friendship would mean enough for you to lend me a hand. I was there for you when your guy’s girlfriend was kidnapped. Don’t make me say it.”

  “I know, I owe you,” she snapped. “Let me put the baby down. I’m about to swear and I don’t want her little brain to be damaged.” A moment later she was back on the line. “Don’t be an asshole, Marco. And how dare you throw our past into this. If I knew anything, I’d tell you, you little fucker. Look, Cam is special, but he’s also very, very private, as you can imagine. We all suspect that he’s not exactly local, but he has never confirmed or denied, well, anything really. Since he doesn’t interfere in my business, I leave him alone. I understand what you’re going through, I do, but I don’t have any information.”

  “What about him? Cam? Let me talk to him. What’s his number?”

  “I can’t give you that. As I said, he’s very private. But I can send him a message and let him know you have questions. I can’t guarantee he’ll talk, but I’ll make the effort.”

  “Thanks, Brett.” It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was a start. “And you’re going to be a great mom. You’ve got the ass-whooping thing down pat.”<
br />
  “Thanks. Take care, Marco. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  After a quick goodbye, he scarfed down his lukewarm lunch and headed back to the station. All the information pertaining to the night he met the Chameleon was still in his desk because that was also the night they came the closest to capturing Smithwick. Brett may have been telling the truth that she didn’t know who his hooded assailant was, but he’d bet his house the Chameleon did.

  Chapter Six

  Bale stood in the shadows outside Tutala and peered in through the window like a stalker. Well, maybe he was a stalker, the way he’d been trailing Ari around town the last week. The constant monitoring was madness, he knew it, yet he could not let more than an hour go by without making sure she was safe and happy. He half expected a track to be worn out in the pavement between the apartment building and the restaurant, he vacillated between locations so often.

  Ever since her first day on the job she had been working twelve-hour days, staying much later than required. From what he’d heard, she was taking the responsibilities of her new position with the utmost seriousness, which didn’t surprise him. The girl was proud and strong, so much so it made his eyes water just to look at her. The determination he sensed in her made him straighten his own posture as he watched her flutter around the bar like a hummingbird.

  A cloud formed on the windowpane from his breath as he released a sigh filled with longing and denial. She was so beautiful in her new pale-purple dress. The cut of the fabric was a maddening tease of professional and sexy. The belt under her bust and the way the fabric clung to her hips emphasized her femininity, but she was mistaken if she thought the modest neckline made her appear proper. The stretch of cotton over her breasts drew the eye to the soft mounds and made a man want to test their softness.

  And he wasn’t the only one having such lascivious thoughts. Several men tracked her movements like wolves stalking a wounded doe. She did make a tempting treat, especially when she smiled and leaned over to talk to a customer. To her credit she never encouraged unwanted advances, however, it only took one asshole to misread her intentions and cause her harm, and that he would never allow.

  A pack of lechers occupying a corner booth brought a frown to his face. Lust and liquor glittered in their eyes every time Ari passed by their table. One of the fools was going to make a move on her, Bale was certain of it. While other men had attempted to ask her out over the last few days, he had seen Ari turn them all down with a smile and witty retort that effectively stopped the conversation but maintained her professionalism. This time his stomach rolled with impending doom that she wasn’t going to be as fortunate if one of those fuckers made a move.

  Bale straightened the lapels on his jacket and ran a hand through his hair. Tutala was one of the city’s premier restaurants and attracted the suit-and-tie crowd. In his jeans and hoodie he’d most definitely draw attention, but his wardrobe could not be helped. What did it matter anyway? His clothes were clean and free of holes, they were sufficient, even for the task at hand.

  He swept inside, past the grinning hostess and made a beeline for Ari, who stood at the bar talking to the bartender. She did a double take when he stopped mere feet away, her eyes widening in surprise before the corner of her lip curled into a shy smile.

  “Bale. Hi. Long time no see.” The smile fell and her brow crinkled. “Wait. Why are you here? Is there something wrong?”

  “No. I…” Damn, maybe he should have put some thought into what he was going to say before charging in. Simplicity was probably the best course of action. “It is late and I am here to escort you home.”

  “Oh.” She issued a little laugh. “Thanks. That’s…nice of you, but I do have my own car. I can make it back alone.”

  “I understand, but I want to escort you.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not ready to leave yet.”

  “Why not? You’ve been working hard, every day. You deserve a rest.”

  “Have you been talking to Amaryllis? Did she send you? You would think she would be happy to have an employee who liked to be at work.”

  “No. I’ve come on my own. Ari, please. Let me escort you home. It’s late and the streets are not safe.”

  “So were you planning on following me home on your bike?”

  Shit. “No. I walked here.”

  “Oh,” she said again, but with a touch of disappointment coloring her tone. “Bale, did you need a ride? Why didn’t you just say so? Look, I do have tasks to finish, but you can wait if you want to.”

  “Ari, no—damn it,” he muttered as she swept past him in a cloud of hibiscus and coconuts and went to give directions to one of her servers.

  “Hey, Bale,” Ted the bartender greeted. The restaurant staff had yet to learn about his reputation at the club and therefore treated him with politeness. “Can I get you anything?”

  “How about her undivided attention?”

  “Ha, good one. That woman is constantly on the go. But I like her. I hope she sticks around.”

  He did too.

  Bale pushed the thought aside and turned to go walk down the hallway that led to the office. She had to be keeping her purse locked away in there, and if he had the keys to her vehicle, she’d have to go with him.

  Two steps was all he traveled when a tendril of disgust slithered down his back. He whipped around and found Ari standing by the corner table. Her posture was ramrod stiff and she barely restrained the sneer on her lips. She inclined her head to one of the men, who was slapping the tabletop with an open palm and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows as she issued an icy good-night.

  As she walked back toward the bar, she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead and never faltered in her stride.

  “Ari,” he said as she neared. “What did that man say to you?”

  Her eyes flickered in his direction and she shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Do not lie. He did or said something to upset you. Tell me.”

  She sighed with a roll of her eyes and a pink flush streaked across her cheeks. “It was nothing but juvenile banter. I’ve been working in bars since I was eighteen. I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean that I like it, but I’m used to it. Just let it go.”

  “Ariel. What. Did. He. Say?” He lowered his head and gave her his most intimidating glare.

  With a small shake of her head she murmured, “He asked me if the carpet matches the drapes. I told you. It was juvenile. Geez, Bale, you don’t have to get so growly.”

  He stopped her with a hand around her wrist. “What does that phrase mean?”

  “Ha ha. Funny.” She tried to push past him.

  “What does it mean?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Am I ever not?”

  The flush turned crimson and covered her face from hairline down to the swell of her breasts. “Well I’m not telling you. Let it go, Bale. It was stupid.”

  She all but ran down the hall. Her embarrassment slammed into his gut and wiggled up to squeeze around his chest as he felt his ears and the back of his neck burn hot.

  He rounded on Ted, who he noticed had been eavesdropping on their exchange under the guise of wiping down the bar top. Leaning over the counter, he snarled, “Explain what she said.”

  Ted swallowed hard and uttered a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I should.”

  “Explain or else you will be eating that bar towel.”

  “Ah. Yes, well, it’s an old joke about hair color. You know, since women color their hair. Is the hair on her head the same color as the hair…” He gestured around his groin.

  Blood rushed in Bale’s ears and his vision darkened as he comprehended the innuendo. Before he realized he had moved, he was across the room and hauling the little prick from his seat. The pissant struggled as he was lifted by his shirtfront, his feet flailing as he dangled above the floor.

  “How dare you,” Bale spat into the terrified face, “treat a fine female with such vulgarity? Tell me why I shouldn’t br
eak you in two right now.”

  The man gurgled and squealed as he clawed at Bale’s fist.

  “Answer me!”

  “Balellanos. Drakeros le bajo. Commanedo e ta aura.”

  From the corner of his eye he saw Amaryllis standing by his side. Attired in a light-pink silk dress, she looked like a fairy princess as she calmly demanded the human be set down.

  “This pig degraded Ariel with his vulgar words and should pay for his insults,” he responded in their native language.

  “I see. Put him down, Bale. I will deal with the human.” Her voice was calm and steady. A lion tamer calming the beast.

  Bale’s fingers flexed and seams popped as the fabric stretched under the pressure.

  “Bale,” Amaryllis warned. “Ari is watching.”

  Actually, the entire bar area was looking on, but his gaze homed in on Ari, who stood across the room, her hands hung loose at her sides and her eyes wide. Unbelievably he sensed no emotion rioting within her like he did with the other patrons. Despite the bombardment of sentiments aimed in his direction, she was a blank space in the storm. An unexpected response that made him falter in his course of conduct.

  With a snarl he tossed the human back into his seat and focused on controlling the murderous rage coursing through his veins.

  Amaryllis stood between him and his target. A pixie defending the weak from the dragon. “My apologizes, gentlemen. I ask that you forgive my dear friend. He is a firm believer that women should be treated as treasures and not whores. Your meal is on the house tonight, so please enjoy, for it is the last you shall receive in my establishment. Thank you, and I bid you good night. Bale, come with me.”

  He followed his princess back to Ari and felt the shame of losing his temper sting his cheeks with a thousand needles as he realized the spectacle he must have made before her employees. Would he do it again? In a heartbeat, but that still didn’t make his actions right.