"Hey, Walsh."
The detective looked up at the sound of his name. His boss, Captain Powell, was hanging his head out of his office.
"Weren't you asking around about that rich guy, Ballantine?"
"Yeah. You got something?"
Powell waved for him to come in. The TV across from the captain's desk was on, showing some sort of press conference. Martin Ballantine was speaking to a group of reporters.
“… the urgent need for more rigorous supervision and control of exohumans in this country. Senator Jacobs and the members of the Exohuman Affairs Committee recognize this reality and have sponsored a new bill – the Freedom From Fear Act - that will move us toward a safer and more secure society. I’m proud to play a small part in this important process by hosting a summit meeting on exohuman regulation, here in Atlanta on September 15th. I look forward to working with members of the committee, as well as representatives from the exohuman community, to discuss how we can make Senator Jacobs’ bold new vision a reality.”
*
Hearing the news, Cassie was surprised she remained aloft. The back-flip she was attempting didn’t fare as well and went completely wonky. Maybe while they were practicing aerial maneuvers wasn't the greatest time for Nate to relay Walsh’s latest revelation.
"What the hell?” she said. “He’s an exohuman himself. Why would he want more restrictions?"
"Nobody knows he’s an exo,” Nate continued. “Maybe this is to divert suspicion away from him. Or maybe he hopes the new law will hamstring the rest of us while he runs around free. Anyway, Walsh thinks this summit meeting is probably what all the financial monkey business was about. Privately hosting this kind of thing is going to be mega-expensive – travel, hotels, security. Not to mention the wining and dining Ballantine will pile on to curry their favor."
Cassie corrected the tumble she had thrown herself into and moved up to face Nate. She reminded herself not to stare at his bare chest. Tonight, they were dressed for comfort in the southern summer sky. She was in shorts and a cropped sports top. Nate was wearing only a pair of shorts - tight shorts. She'd been playing a silly game of sneaking peeks behind his back all evening, all the while chiding herself not to lead him on.
"So, what's the plan?” she asked. “How are you and Walsh going to get this guy?"
"Until we find some hard evidence, or Leclair turns up, we're kind of stuck. Neither of us dares get anywhere near him. You're the only one on this team that he can't take control of."
"I'm not a member of any team. I told you - I'm not hero material. Y'all need to find Etienne, 'cause I can’t be part of it. My powers are too dangerous and uncontrolled. Just being in the same room with that man, I might, well, I might kill him."
"You haven't had any wild bursts since that first one in the hospital. I think you can handle it."
"You do remember getting knocked on your ass with your uniform burned off, right? I did that with just a photo of the son of a bitch. I might nuke half the city if he opened his sleazy mouth."
Nate looked into her eyes, and she into his. He had left his helmet at home tonight, but she still saw her reflection in his gaze. It was almost as unnerving as the reflection in his visor. She could tell he was trying to be supportive, to bring out the strength he saw in her. But the Cassie she saw mirrored in his eyes was small and weak. He didn't see that Cassie. Her resentment rose, struggling with her other feelings for Nate. It just wasn’t fair for him to ask so much of her, more than she had in her.
"I believe in you, Cass. I've seen you standing in the center of an emergency situation with a whirlwind of people around you. And you were completely in control, with precision and confidence. This no different. You can control it."
She stared back at him, torn between her dueling desires to kiss him and to punch him. But all she did was raise her hands into his field of vision. Her palms glowed and pulsed with every beat of her heart, the pulse that she felt in her temples every time she thought about Ballantine.
"You're wrong."
*
She woke the next morning in a tangled and tossed bed. She’d had the dream again, the one where she couldn’t stop the white-hot torrents coming from her hands. People gathered around her, trying to reach her, to help her. Granny and her parents pleaded with her to stop. They burned. GranDa walked toward her, holding the hand of a shy little Latina girl – Marissa. Cassie screamed as the blasts disintegrated them. Everyone she cared about burned. Then Nate was there, helmetless and handsome in steely gray, his scars completely healed. “You can’t hurt me,” he said. She ran to him, her hands went to his chest, hungry for his warmth. He smiled down at her, but then his eyes widened. Her blood pulsed loud and heavy in her ears as the light in her palms flared brighter with each surge. A hole appeared in the center of his chest. The void grew, eating its way through to his heart. She watched in silent terror, unable to make a sound as he fell away from her.
She sat up and ran her fingers through sweat-soaked hair. It was as tangled as her emotions, a total mess. Her sheets were drenched, as were her bed clothes. She rose and stripped them away, naked and shivering in the morning air as she kicked her wet things into a corner. She sat back down on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest as she rocked back and forth, remembering the fading images of her dream. GranDa. Marissa. Nate.
Aromas wafted from the kitchen. Her stomach growled. She grabbed underwear and an oversized tee shirt from the dresser and pulled her untamed mane back, twisting it into a makeshift pony tail before following her nose to the smell of food.
As she suspected, Nate was in the kitchen, wearing a pair of cartoon-covered boxers and pulling bacon out of a pan with his fingers. He hummed a tune she couldn't quite identify as he laid the bacon out on paper towels next to an impressive stack of pancakes. On another eye of the stove a pan of scrambled eggs waited. She saw a plate of cut fruit already on the table.
Okay, don’t let your ovaries explode just because the greatest guy you’ve ever met can cook too. The plan is still to let him down easy. Don’t forget that.
Breakfast was wonderful. She ate more than she ever had in one sitting. Even the coffee had a special quality. When she finally pushed her plate away, incapable of taking another bite, he stood up and walked around the table.
"Stay right there,” he said. She sensed that feeling of accomplishment in him again, like he had rescued another team of firefighters. “I have something for you."
She turned in her chair to face him. "Dessert? I’m not sure I could eat another bite."
"Actually, I made something for you, in the shop. I woke up early with an idea and wanted to surprise you with it. So, stay there and close your eyes."
She complied and heard him leave. She fidgeted, wary that his surprise might be something that would make it more difficult to let him down easy - something like an engagement ring. When he returned, he took each of her arms, clasping something warm and metallic around each wrist.
"Handcuffs? Am I under arrest, or is this a kinky side to you I haven’t seen yet?"
"What? No!” He laughed, a tinge of nervousness and embarrassment coming through to her. “Open your eyes."
She looked at her wrists. They were encircled by a pair of gold mesh-like bracelets about an inch wide. On the back of her hands, they tipped down to form a ‘V,’ pointing down to her fingers.
"Wow. I mean... wow. You made these? While I was asleep? Wow."
"Do you like them? I can change the design if you’d prefer something different."
"No, they're beautiful.” She lifted her arm, marveling at how they stayed snug in place on her wrists but also flexed to follow her movements. “I've never seen anything like them."
"They're not just decorative. They cancel your blast powers. You won’t have to worry about accidentally hurting someone. I’d like to run a test down in the bunker later, just to be sure, but as long as you wear these, it’ll be as if those powers don’t exist. You have total control."
<
br /> She stared at them and then at him. She sprang up from the chair and wrapped herself around him. Tears ran down as she buried her face in his chest. She wanted to kiss him, but all she could think was how she didn’t deserve the gift, much less the giver.
CHAPTER 21
As they darted through the night sky, Cassie envied Nate’s flying speed. Being able to hover and float had saved her, but actually getting somewhere at her snail-like clip was beyond impractical.
“Okay, we’re here,” Nate said, slowing to a stop. He let his arm slip from around Cassie’s waist, allowing her to float free beside him. He looked down, scanning the building below with the various devices built into his helmet.
“I’m not picking up anyone on infrared but let me go and make sure he’s alone.”
Cassie reached up to lay a hand against the side of his faceplate. “Thank you,” she said.
He took her hand in his, cupping it against the smooth metal that hid his face. Then he descended, leaving her in the blackness. She hugged herself, struck by how alone she suddenly felt. Only a few days ago she would have thought nothing of it, having grown used to the long stretches of solitude in her life. But the contrast between the close warmth of Nate’s body, and this isolated detachment sent a chill deep inside her.
She strained her eyes downward, seeking some faint reflected glint of starlight on his helmet, a sign of his return. Long seconds passed. What was taking so long?
Then his voice came from somewhere below and behind. “All clear. Bill left the window unlocked, so I didn’t have to force it.”
Nate took her hand and led her to the sprawling series of low brick buildings, and to the single opening amongst all the darkened windows. She followed him in, floating in to alight silently on the institutional vinyl floor. Nate moved to the door, affixing a small device to it.
“This will cancel out any sound we make. They were just finishing rounds when I came before, so we should be good for at least thirty minutes. Still, I wouldn’t waste any time.”
Cassie smiled her thanks before moving to stand beside the bed and the sleeping figure that lay there.
“GranDa?”
Riley’s eyes were slow to open, dulled by the medication that gave him enough respite from pain to sleep. Cassie looked into him with her extra senses and saw the cancer had resurged with a vengeance. He was losing his battle, and even her power couldn’t change that. All she could do was bolster his strength and delay the inevitable. She placed a hand on his chest and let her healing green essence flow. His eyes lit as he focused on her finally.
“Caiside, me darlin’. You’re lookin’ mighty spry for a spirit from beyond.” His smile sent tears to her eyes and she laid her head against his chest so he wouldn’t see. But he wasn’t fooled. He touched the bedside button to raise himself into a sitting position.
“Don’t be wailing the banshee’s cry for me just yet, love. I’ve still got a wee bit of time left. And seein’ you is more tonic than even your green witchery.”
Cassie sniffed back her tears and put on a grin for his benefit before sitting back to face him.
“So, you heard, eh? I’m officially dead,” she said.
“Aye,” he said. “Glad I am that police fellow, Walsh, clued me in before I saw the news. I might have given up the ghost myself if he hadn’t.”
Cassie bit at her lip. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”
Riley snorted a tiny laugh. “Oh, no. I’ve been playing my part like the Bard’s own, grieving the tragic loss of my only granddaughter.” He placed the back of his hand against his forehead and mimed a dramatic swoon. “These nurses are eating it up like chowder. With all the hugs and such I’m feeling quite the celebrity these days.”
Cassie had to laugh. “Let me guess – It’s the prettiest ones that give you the most comfort? You old rogue, you never change.”
Riley deflected by turning his attention to the Guardian standing sentry at his door. He raised his voice enough to include his other guest.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your gentleman friend there?”
Cassie suppressed a blush, knowing that “gentleman friend” was GranDa-speak for “boyfriend.”
“I think you know who Guardian 175 is, GranDa. He’s been helping me during my… unfortunate state of demise.”
Nate moved over to the bed, extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Whelan. Cassie’s told me nothing but good things about you.”
Riley gave Cassie a sidelong glance as he shook the tall exohuman’s hand. “The name’s Riley, son. And if my Caiside only had good to say, then she’s clearly not tellin’ you the fullness of the tale. But I’m glad to make your acquaintance. That Walsh feller told me you’d taken my little clever one under your wing, and I’m powerful grateful to you for it.”
“No thanks necessary,” Nate said. “She’s a remarkable woman.” He turned to face Cassie for a lingering look. She smiled at him and felt his affection for her surge. Then he nodded and stepped away to guard the entrance again.
Cassie smiled. Riley leaned in close, speaking in low, conspiratorial tones. “If I’m any judge at all, that fella’s sweet on you. And I’m thinkin’ he’s put a song in your heart too.”
Cassie bit her lip. Was it so obvious Riley could see in a moment what it took superpowers to reveal to herself?
“It’s a bittersweet tune, GranDa. He’s a good man, too good for a selfish wench like me.”
Riley’s eyes widened. “Selfish? Girlie, you’ve spent a lifetime workin’ to help folks. What in the world’s got you thinkin’ that?”
She looked away, teeth nipping at her lower lip again. “It’s all gone wrong, GranDa. This thing I’ve become – it’s the end of everything. The law says I’m not even a real person anymore. They’ll never let me be a doctor when they find out about me. I’ll be nothing more than a number in gray, like him. He’s done so much good, and he wants me to be like him. But all I can think is how I’ll never live a normal life. And the Whelan name will end with you. Everything Mom and Dad expected from me – I’ll let them down.”
Riley took her hand and smiled. “Expected? Caiside, all your parents or any of us ever expected from you was to be happy. Be a doctor, or a Guardian, or a rubbish collector – whatever gives you satisfaction. You’ve a great heart, my fine girl, and you’ve always found a way to do what you felt right. But you can’t go through life trying to please everyone else. Be who you are, and to hell with anyone that expects otherwise.” He angled his eyes toward the Guardian. “Himself included. But I suspect he’ll surprise you on that account. Give it time, love. Give it time.”
He patted her hand and gave her a wink before raising his voice enough to make it clear their private conversation had ended.
“Caiside, be a love and fetch us whiskey. I’d like to share a snort with your new gentleman friend, even if he does have a number for a name. Will you doff that fancy headgear to sip a bit of Jameson’s with a dying old man, son?”
Nate returned to Riley’s bedside but looked down, and Cassie picked up a wave of regret tinged with shame coming from him. “My face isn’t pleasant to look at, sir.”
Riley blew a dismissive breath. “Neither is mine, boyo. These days I’ve come to depend on charm much more than bygone looks. As they say, beauty won’t make the kettle boil anyway. But, know this – I was at Pearl Harbor when the bombs fell, and the water burned. I’ve likely seen worse. But, suit yourself. I’ll toast to the health of the new man in Caiside’s life regardless.”
Cassie went to retrieve the hidden bottle and was relieved to find that GranDa hadn’t polished it off in her absence. Behind her, she heard Riley whispering.
“I’m trusting you, lad. She’s had her heart broken too many times already. Just love her when she thinks she least deserves it. That’s when she’ll need it most.”
Cassie crossed behind Nate and pulled two cups from the wall dispenser.
“Make it three, Cas
s.”
She turned to look as Nate unsealed his helmet. He paused only a second before lifting it off. Riley didn’t flinch, just pulling in a deep breath as he took in the scars and rippled flesh.
“My name’s Nate, sir. Nate Gorman. I’m proud to share a drink with you. And I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to protect your granddaughter. You have my word.”
CHAPTER 22
Cassie’s blood boiled. If not for the dampening field from her bracelets, the e-reader in her hands would have probably been reduced to slag. She took a sip of wine and continued reading.
"Fuck’s sake,” she erupted. “Have you read the stuff in this bill? This is insane."
When her outburst failed to elicit a response from Nate, she looked up to see him immersed in his own computer screen. Irked by his inattention, she lobbed the reader at his head. The tablet shattered against his invulnerable skull, but it got his attention.
“Hey!”
She immediately regretted the tantrum. This forced seclusion was wearing thin and it was becoming harder to conceal her growing irritation. She knew it wasn’t fair to take it out on Nate, but she expected more outrage from him about these proposed new rules. His blind acceptance of being treated as a non-person was infuriating.
“Did you even hear what I said?” she pressed. “This new exohuman bill is bat-shit crazy.”
“I heard you.” He stated. “I heard you just now. I heard you during breakfast. And lunch. And every time in between.” He turned back to his screen, making her look for something else to throw at him.
“It doesn’t bother you that they want to control what we do and say, where we live? Hell, they even want to control who we have children with!”
He waved a hand, dismissing her rant. “The bill doesn’t say any of that. You’re reading too much into it.”
Burden of Solace: Book 1 of the Starforce Saga Page 16