by H. L. Burke
She blinked at Alma then stared at the hole in the ceiling. No sign of the villains. “What happened?” she stammered.
“I flew the bomb up high enough to where it wouldn’t hurt anybody and let it go off. Nice fireworks.” Alma chuckled. “I zipped down here and saw the baddies fleeing through the hole I’d left—wanted to go after them, but you were on the floor and I didn’t want to leave you. I think the DOSA backup finally got here, though. I heard sirens.”
Prism winced. At least she hadn’t been out long. She staggered to her feet. The baby did a somersault.
Thank God she’s okay. What was I even thinking? Oh, but Aiden—
She leaned against the wall, head spinning. She had to have dreamed it. It couldn’t be real—but she’d seen it with her own eyes, seen him.
But he’s dead. He’s been dead for almost two years. I couldn’t have seen him—but I did. I did. That was Aiden. His face but also his powers. Oh, dear Lord, what am I going to do?
“I need to talk to ... to someone.” Prism put her hand to her forehead.
“Okay.” Alma arched an eyebrow. “Who?”
“I ... I don’t know. Let’s start by finding Fade and making sure the sables in the banquet hall are all right, then we’ll move on from there.”
Alma gave her a thumbs up. “Want a lift?”
Prism gave an anxious laugh. “Sure.”
Alma wrapped her arms around Prism’s midsection. “Hold on—oof!” The baby booted Alma’s hand, and the girl drew back. “That’s freaky.”
“Imagine what it’s like for me,” Prism pointed out. “You rather I walk it?”
“Nah, got this.” Alma positioned herself again. “Easy, bambino. Not gonna hurt ya. Just giving your mom a boost.” She leaped up through the hole in the ceiling, dragging Prism along. Alma hovered for a moment then landed softly on the floor above. Prism disentangled herself. Ahead to her right was a hole leading out into the parking lot in front of the center. To her left, the entrance to the banquet hall. A group of sables and normie police officers stood around, questioning banquet attendees and staff. Among them loomed the Adjudicator.
Prism’s head ached. He was the last person she wanted to deal with right now.
In the banquet hall behind the knot of people, about half the attendees appeared to be awake, milling about, or standing in confused groups. The remaining sables lingered in various stages of consciousness, some still lying on their tables, others stirring and rubbing their eyes but not quite there yet.
“Melodica!” Alma burst off the floor and zoomed through the DOSA security forces to where the red headed woman turned in slow circles in the middle of the banquet hall. At Alma’s approach, she rushed to meet her and caught her in a great hug.
“There you are! When I woke up and you were gone—oh, Alma, you need to be careful.”
In spite of the heaviness within her, Prism smiled at the reunion.
“Luce!” Fade ghosted through a wall and rushed to her. “You okay? The villains never came out the way I covered. I heard a vehicle skid out not far from where I was, though. I’m guessing they had a second getaway car as a backup.”
“I’m fine. They came out my way, but—” She inhaled, trying to get the words together in the right order. “This is going to sound crazy.”
“You went after the attackers on your own?” The Adjudicator barreled towards them. “How stupid are you?”
Prism crossed her arms over her chest. “If we hadn’t, this whole place would be in ruins now. The villains had a bomb they placed beneath the banquet hall. Soulbird took care of it.” Prism chose to use Alma’s hero-handle. For one thing, it was more respectful. For another, there was a good chance the Adjudicator didn’t know who Soulbird was and wouldn’t get up in arms about a fifteen-year-old being the one who had dealt with the incendiary device.
“But they still got away?” The Adjudicator growled. “I knew you were useless.”
Prism’s face heated. All the sables within earshot—easily several dozen, many of whom she knew professionally—were looking at them.
Fade jabbed a finger at the Adjudicator. “Watch it, jackass. Prism, Soulbird, and I were the only ones even conscious during this fight. If not for us, you’d be blown to bits, which, don’t get me wrong, wouldn’t be much of a loss, but the rest of the people in this building might be grateful to still be breathing right now.”
“What’s going on here?” Talon pushed through the crowd, face drawn.
Prism stuck her chin in the air. “When the psychic attack started, Fade used his powers to shield myself and Soulbird from it. We took the opportunity to call in backup, pursue the villains, and disable the bomb they’d placed beneath the banquet hall.”
Talon’s eyes widened. “And you’re being yelled at for this why?”
“She let them get away!” the Adjudicator spluttered.
“Considering she was under no obligation to do anything, I think she performed admirably.” Talon nodded to first Prism then Fade. “You both did.”
“Soulbird did most of the heavy lifting,” Prism said, bowing her head towards the young sable. “Literally.”
Melodica and Alma emerged from the banquet hall, followed shortly after by Shepherd and Glint.
Prism’s stomach churned. She couldn’t hold it in any more. She needed to tell someone about Aiden. “Talon, when I confronted the villains—”
“Why are we all standing around acting like this isn’t a catastrophe?” the Adjudicator burst out. “We were attacked during an official DOSA event. This is where we should be the strongest, but instead we were vulnerable, easy pickings for an unknown, upstart villain team. Where was the security? Wasn’t that your responsibility, Shepherd?”
Shepherd’s posture tightened. “Yes, I was in charge of the security team for tonight, and I assure you that every possible precaution was taken.”
“But not enough!” The Adjudicator’s voice grew even more strident. “And you, Talon? You told me months ago that you were looking into the attack on the DOSA evidence warehouse. This appears to be that very same team. Why haven’t we made any progress on that case?”
Talon stood taller. “I don’t answer to you, Frank. You would be wise to watch your tone—”
“Watch my tone? That’s all this committee ever does,” the Adjudicator continued to rant. “Play politics, play nice—”
Fade slipped his hand around Prism’s and tried to pull her away. “This isn’t our fight,” he murmured. “Come on. I want to get home.”
Prism jerked away from him. She couldn’t be distracted by this. She needed to tell someone about Aiden. Someone who could do something. Who could help her.
Melodica slowly backed away from the fight, drawing Alma with her while the three senior committee members barked at each other and poor Glint made diplomatic grunting noises.
Something in Prism snapped. She was not going to let bureaucracy and political squabbles get in her way. Not with Aiden’s life potentially on the line.
“Shut up!” she shouted. She threw her hands forward, a blast of light escaping from her.
When the flash subsided, everyone within earshot was staring at her. Her shoulders shook, but she didn’t care.
“Listen to me!” she snapped. “I got a good look at the villains. Talon, one of them was Aiden!”
Confusion spread across Talon’s face followed swiftly by pity. “Lucia, that can’t be.”
“But it was! I saw him. More than that, I felt his energy in the power that put me under,” she stammered. “Fade, you’ve felt Aiden’s powers before. Didn’t you recognize his energy?”
Fade shifted from foot to foot. “I guess there was a familiar sensation to it, but I just assumed it was what all mind powers felt like. I mean, Aiden is the only one with that sort of power I’ve had experience with.”
Prism shook her head. “No, it was Aiden. I saw him. I looked him right in the eye. It was him!”
“Lucia, that’s impossible.�
�� Talon stepped closer to her, hand extended.
She shied away from him. “But it’s not. I know what I saw! It was him. I don’t know how, but it was him. He was the one who put everyone to sleep tonight.”
Shepherd tilted her head to one side. “I wasn’t aware that Aiden Powell had the power to do that sort of thing.”
“He didn’t.” The Adjudicator scoffed. “I’ve read Counsel’s file a dozen times, and while he could knock people out, he needed physical contact. There’s no way he could’ve put an entire room of sables to sleep at once the way this perpetrator did.”
Prism glanced helplessly at the committee members. “You have to believe me. Check the security tapes. There has to be some footage of him. It was Aiden. I swear it was Aiden.”
“That seems like a reasonable request,” Glint put in. “I mean, we’re going to be doing that anyway as part of the investigation, right?”
“Yes, but we’ll be doing so looking for actual suspects, not ghosts.” The Adjudicator smirked at Prism. “This is ridiculous. The stress has gotten to you, Powell. Go home. Rest. Have your baby and leave the investigation to us.”
“I’m telling you, it was him,” Prism attempted one last weak protest.
“We’ll look into it, Lucia.” Talon put his hand on her shoulder, and this time she didn’t pull away.
“I know what I saw, Talon. I know my brother.” Tears blurred her vision.
Fade slipped his arm around her. “Please, let me take you home.”
“I can have a car come pick you up and take you to the gateway,” Talon said. “I promise, if we find out anything that involves Aiden, we’ll contact you immediately.”
She managed a weak head bob. “I ... I need my purse and shoes.”
“I’ll get them,” Alma volunteered, running back into the banquet hall.
Prism turned and hid her face against Fade’s chest, not caring how many people saw her breaking down. She’d done everything right tonight, performed her best as a sable in spite of the Adjudicator’s abuse, and in return, she’d been kicked in the heart.
What if it wasn’t Aiden? Everyone is going to think I’m going insane—but if it was Aiden, what does that even mean? He died. I saw him die, but I also saw him tonight. Both things can’t be real.
Back in her high heels, Prism leaned heavily on Fade as he escorted her to the promised car. As they drove towards DOSA’s DC headquarters, she fiddled with her phone. She had text notifications.
Tanvi: I saw the news. Are you guys okay? What happened?
Keeper: You all right, Lass? Yui and I will wait up for you.
Prism started a group chat with the full team.
We’re all right. No one is hurt. On our way home. We’ll be there within an hour.
She pressed send, then looked at Fade. His eyes were still on her, deep and worried. Did even he believe her? Well, she couldn’t keep this from the rest of the team either way. They needed to know what was going on—at least to the extent she did.
She texted again, When we get there, I want to meet you all in the second floor conference room. There’s something we need to talk about. Someone let Wildfyre know. He doesn’t have a phone yet.
She shoved her phone into her purse and rested her head against the back of the seat, attention directed out the window at the street lights flashing by her.
Fade picked up his phone and read what she’d sent. “You sure you want to tell them about this before we know what’s really going on? Maybe we should wait and see what’s on the security tapes first.”
Prism blanched. Yeah, he doesn’t believe me. Can I really blame him, though? If our roles were reversed, would I believe him?
She liked to think she would. Maybe it was crazy and impossible, but she’d still seen Aiden.
“I’m not facing this without my full team.”
The gateway was one of multiple teleportation devices set up throughout the US, connecting important DOSA hubs for instantaneous travel. The Camp Pendleton gateway was only a short ride from the team’s HQ, so rather than waste money on airfare, she and Fade had used it to get to DC for the dinner.
When they got to their car, Fade pulled off his tie and undid his collar buttons. He shot her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be glad to get out of this ridiculous getup.”
She forced a laugh she didn’t feel, and the worry lines deepened around his eyes.
“Luce, are you sure you want to have a meeting about this right now? You just went through a hell of a night—”
“I’m sure,” she interrupted. “Come on. Let’s get inside.”
When they entered the lobby at HQ, Tanvi rushed to greet them. “Girl! You need to answer your texts faster.” She drew Prism into a hug.
Prism rested her head momentarily on her best friend’s shoulder before pulling away to give her an exaggeratedly stern look. “I said I wanted to meet in the second floor conference room. This is not the second floor conference room.”
Tanvi waved dismissively. “The boys and Yui are up there waiting. I made a pot of decaf coffee just for you. Hopefully it’s still warm.”
The tightness in Prism’s muscles eased. “Do we have any of that hazelnut creamer?”
“A whole jug of it.” Tanvi patted Prism’s back. “Let’s go.”
Prism took a step, and her heel screamed. One of the blisters on her foot burst. “Hold on.” She kicked off her shoes. She tried to bend down to get them, but the baby bump got in the way.
“Let me.” Fade picked them up for her.
When they reached the conference room, they found Wildfyre and Keeper sitting at the table with Yui sprawled out in her feline form on top of it. Fade pulled out a chair for Prism. She thanked him before settling into it. Fade took the chair next to her. His formerly put together look had deteriorated even further on the ride over, his shirt now untucked, his suit jacket gone AWOL—probably abandoned in the car. He looked more like himself this way. She let herself absorb his presence, alert but still relaxed posture, like a tiger waiting to spring.
Forcing her mind back to the present, she addressed the team. “As I said in my text, while there was an attack on the banquet tonight, no one was harmed.”
“We saw the report DOSA sent out,” Wildfyre put in. “Not a lot of details, but it looked like the same team that hit the evidence warehouse a few months ago.”
“It was,” Prism replied. “They’ve escalated to full on terrorism. Their goal this time appears to have been to set off a bomb beneath the ongoing official dinner. Probably to kill as many DOSA sables as they could. We don’t have the specs on the device, but considering where they put it and how large it was, I have to imagine if it had gone off there wouldn’t have been many survivors.”
Tanvi shuddered. “They managed to get the bomb disarmed in time, then?”
“Not so much disarmed as just dealt with,” Prism said. “Alma flew it out of the building and let it go off where it couldn’t do any damage.”
Tanvi sat up straighter, eyes alight. “Alma was there? How’s she doing?”
“Good. She seems happy,” Prism answered.
“Still doesn’t listen worth a damn.” Fade snorted. “Though in this case, I should be glad she didn’t. She did what she needed to.”
“That’s my girl.” Tanvi punched the air.
Yui gave a chirping meow and flicked her tail.
Keeper ran his hand down his wife’s spine then scratched her behind the ears. “My wee lass is right. Seems like if that’s all that happened tonight, you wouldn’t be needing to call us in here.”
Wildfyre, who still hadn’t been informed about Yui’s true identity, furrowed his brow, looked at Tanvi and mouthed, “Wee lass?”
Tanvi snickered. “Nah, not giving you hints. This is too much fun.”
Wildfyre raised his hands. “Keeper’s right, though, Prism. Isn’t the attack east coast DOSA’s business? What does it have to do with us?”
The knot in Prism’s stom
ach constricted. Fade reached over and squeezed her hand.
“I know this is going to sound crazy, but I swear, I saw it, saw him.” She focused on getting every last detail straight. “After Alma had taken care of the bomb, Fade and I separated to cover two different exit points. The villain team went by me, and I got a really good look at them. One of them ... when he looked at me, I recognized him, and who I saw was someone I know couldn’t be there, but I swear, we looked right into each other’s eyes and—and it was Aiden.”
The team stared at her.
Tanvi’s bottom lip quivered.
Keeper’s face went white. “Our Aiden?”
“Aiden Powell? Your brother?” Wildfyre leaned forward in his seat. “The one who Cosmic killed almost two years ago?”
“You saw Aiden?” Tanvi gaped. “How?”
Prism squirmed under the eyes of her team. Now that it was out in the open, it sounded so insane, but she knew what she’d seen. She knew her brother. “I did, but there was something off—he looked right through me as if I wasn’t even there. I know it was him. His face, his eyes, the energy of his powers, but something was missing.” She shuddered remembering the coldness in his expression, the utter lack of affection or recognition.
Tanvi focused on Fade. “Did you see him?”
Fade’s gaze slowly circled the room before landing on Prism. “No, but I believe she did ... or at least someone who looked like him.”
Prism’s chest emptied. “What do you mean? I know Aiden. I wouldn’t mistake some stranger for him.”
“Maybe, but Luce, shapeshifting is a relatively common ability.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “What do you think is more likely? That your brother has returned from the dead but as a villain, or that some shapeshifter decided to put on his face because they knew it would throw you off your game and allow them to escape?”
Prism’s stomach twisted. Now that he’d said it, it seemed so obvious. How hadn’t she seen it? How had she allowed herself to believe, to hope, in something so impossible? Her shoulders sank.
“I believe her,” Wildfyre’s quiet voice murmured.