Wind Runner: The Complete Collection
Edmund Hughes
This digital book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this title with another person, please purchase an additional copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Edmund Hughes
Kindle Edition
CONTENTS
Wind Runner
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
Rain Dancer
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
Jade Portal
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
Chaste Widow
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
Former Champion
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 1
Malcolm still remembered it like it was yesterday. He’d been in Mr. Brannigan’s ninth grade history class. It had happened during the morning, between nine and ten, and like any fifteen-year-old who’d been up most of the night on their phone, he’d been having trouble staying awake.
The announcement had come over the intercom. At the time, it had seemed like a joke. The principal had struggled to find the right words to describe the situation, settling on a “series of currently unexplainable anomalies”.
Mr. Brannigan had rolled out the tiny TV he kept in his back room and turned it on. Malcolm had squinted and watched the first few hours of Day One of the Phenomenon alongside the rest of his class. Mr. Brannigan had told them all that it would be a generation defining event, and he’d been right.
They’d watched the view from the news chopper, which would occasionally zoom in on a man running far faster than humanly possible, or a woman lifting trash cans and park benches through telekinesis. The footage came from the nearest big population center, Halter City, which left Malcolm and his class feeling insulated and safe in sleepy Vanderbrook.
Some of the kids in the room made jokes. The news channel kept raising the death toll, tallying each one with an awkward kind of enthusiasm. The reporters made the differentiation between “the gifted”, as the people with superpowers were being called, and “the monsters”.
Malcolm never saw them get a monster into frame, but even if they had managed to, he wasn’t sure he would have believed it. Watching it on the TV made it feel like watching anything on TV. Incredibly fake, or at least overblown, and part of a separate, carefully curated reality.
School let out early and Malcolm took the bus home just after lunch. He got off at his stop, turned the corner onto his street, and saw a smoldering crater where his house had once been.
Smelling the smoke and feeling the heat of the burning wood was finally enough to make it real for him. He was staring at what had very recently been his house. Danny still would have been asleep on the couch, probably hungover from a late night out drinking. His mother would be cleaning, or reading a book, or working on one of her gardening projects in the backyard.
He’d wondered if maybe she’d been able to make it away safely. He’d hoped, even when it had gone against all logic, that she had. It had taken a couple of days, a couple of calls to the local hospitals, for him to know and accept the truth.
The surprising thing about the aftermath of the destruction of Malcolm’s family and home was how little attention it received. It was just a footnote when placed into context against the government’s reaction to the “champions”, and the “sprytes” and “demons”, as the gifted and the monsters eventually became known.
Malcolm stayed with a friend until the insurance company paid out the settlement for the house. He used the money to replace a couple of his possessions and rented a small apartment.
He went on with his life. That was all he could do. But he never forgot.
***
“Mr. Caldwell? Are you listening?”
Malcolm blinked, and sat up a little straighter in his chair. He’d been thinking about Day One again, poking his most painful memories with a dirty stick. Ms. Dion was more active in her instruction than most college professors, and would often press them for answers as she lectured.
“Sorry,” said Malcolm. “What was the question?”
A few amused chuckles came from the other students around the room. He’d developed a bit of a reputation for zoning out during class.
“Which governing body has control over the Champion Authority?” asked Ms. Dion.
A question I know the answer to, for once. Time to spit the facts.
“Worldwide?” said Malcolm. “The United Nations. But the CA has smaller chapters within many countries, including the USCA here in the United States. And they also coordinate with most major heads of state.”
Ms. Dion looked annoyed that he’d gotten the question right. Malcolm leaned back in his chair, feeling more than a little smug. Somebody whispered a joke off to Malcolm’s left, and several people snickered.
He was not the most popular student with either his classmates or his teachers, though not for lack of personality. Losing his mother and brother on Day One had pushed people away from him, rather than drawing support and kindness. It was unfair, but after five years of living on his own, he’d learned to make do.
“That’s correct, Malcolm,” said Ms. Dion. “Moving on…”
Malcolm listened to her for another minute or two, only lowering his head down to his desk once the professor’s attention had moved elsewhere. He carefully worked his earbuds out of the collar of his shirt where he’d hidden them, slipping them into his ears and smiling as he pressed the play button on his phone.
The playlist he had queued up was filled nineties alt rock. It had been just about all his older brother Danny had listened to, back when he’d been alive. It made Malcolm feel nostalgic, even if he did find some of the melodramatic lyrics to be super cheesy.
He kept his eyes on Ms. Dion, making a halfhearted attempt at looking like he was still paying attention. She said something, and then gestured to the blackboard. Malcolm’s fellow students were all pulling out sheets of paper, probably the brainstorming exercise they’d been assigned the week before.
He started to reach into his own folder, the sound of a guitar solo filling his ears, and then stopped. A chill ran up the back of his neck. It was suddenly hard to breathe. His hands were shaking, and fingers cramping. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his heart pounded in his chest. It felt like somebody had just flipped the panic switch, and his body was all too happy to oblige.
What the hell?
“Malcolm?”
One of the earbuds had fallen out, and he could hear Ms. Dion walking over to his desk. Malcolm shivered, his body cold and feverish at the same time. He was in pain, but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. He clasped his hands over his temples and buried his head against his desk.
Several silent seconds went by. When Malcolm finally opened his eyes, everyone in the room was staring at him. Papers were strewn across the floor, scattered as though a rough breeze had pushed in through one of the windows and run amuck in the orderly classroom.
But none of the windows are open…
On the edge of Malcolm’s awareness, he could feel something new. It was as though his body had a new appendage, a new set of muscles, invisible and outside of what he considered to be his actual body. He stretched his hand out and slowly closed it, focusing on the new sensation at the same time.
A gust of wind swept over the desk in front of him, completely ruining the carefully straightened hair of the girl sitting there and almost ripping her blouse open.
“Whoa…” Malcolm blinked, and then let out a small, surprised laugh.
Ms. Dion was pointing at him, her eyes wide, her jaw dropped as far open as it would go. One student was filming him on their phone, and then suddenly, half a dozen others were doing the same, a few of them standing up to get a better angle.
Malcolm stood up, too. He tried it again, this time reaching toward one of the motivational posters hanging from the classroom wall. He summoned the wind and casually pulled it loose, spinning it in complicated loops and twirls, and directing back over to his hand, just to see if he could.
He was still sweating, and focusing on doing whatever it was he was doing felt like exercise. Endorphins pumped through his body, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he swirled gusts of wind around himself.
“You’re one of them…” said Ms. Dion. “You’re… gifted. You’re one of the champions!”
“Yeah, apparently.” Malcolm shrugged, unsure of what to say. “Huh.”
He took a step forward, and then realized that there was absolutely no reason for him to stay in the classroom. Everyone had their phone out. News of a newborn champion always spread like wildfire. Regardless of what he did, from that point forward, his life would never be the same.
Malcolm took a slow breath and walked out of the room. Several of his fellow classmates followed him, still recording, or possibly live streaming. He glanced at them over his shoulder and briefly considered using the wind to smash the devices against the wall.
You know what? Let’s see if I can give them something worth filming.
CHAPTER 2
Malcolm ran through Vanderbrook Community College’s hallways, taking long, loping steps. He could feel the full extent and flow of the wind, even slight motions in it. It almost reminded him of being underwater.
On top of that, Malcolm could also feel the extent of his power. The wind was a physical thing, waiting for him to call out to and control. It took more than just a thought to do it, more like concentrated will, but it was easy.
It felt like controlling a part of his body, and Malcolm took advantage of it. He pushed the wind hard against his back as he ran, propelling himself forward with inhuman speed.
The students he passed by stared at him in shock. The wind swept across each of them in turn, scattering locks of hair, pushing up dresses and skirts, knocking loose binders from hands. Malcolm felt like some kind of god.
A champion. Technically not a god, but it’s really a pretty minor distinction.
He burst through the front door of the college and laughed. More people were following him now, professors and students alike, filming on their phones. Vanderbrook, as small of a town as it was, only had a couple of native champions that Malcolm knew about.
Most of them had appeared on Day One of the Phenomenon, and the few that had gained their powers in the time since then had been underwhelming in their capabilities. Malcolm remembered one, a mailman who eventually earned the nickname “Sharp Eye”.
Sharp Eye was gifted with perfect hand to eye coordination, which gave him amazing dexterity and skill when it came to things like throwing balls and catching… balls. The media had still greeted him with enormous fanfare, catapulting Sharp Eye to instant local fame. He’d moved out of Vanderbrook after a while, but was still listed in the town’s Wikipedia article under the “Famous Residents” section.
A news van was already approaching from down the street. Malcolm wasn’t ready to sit down and give interviews. He flexed his hand, feeling for his new ability, and tried to do the obvious thing.
Gathering the wind around him in powerful gusts, Malcolm took a step forward, and leapt into the air. He pushed against his legs and feet with all the wind he could summon, hovered for a second or two, and then slowly descended back to the ground.
“Fly!” shouted one of the students filming him. “Come on! Take off, man! That would be so cool!”
“Yeah, well, easier said than done,” said Malcolm. He frowned, feeling outward and taking stock of the strength of his wind power. He could sense that he didn’t have quite enough to fly, or at least if he did, he still didn’t know how to focus it in a way that would give him proper lift.
Let’s try something else, then.
Malcolm took off at a run, slowly using the wind to lengthen each stride, and push himself forward faster and faster. One of the college’s buildings was right on the edge of campus, and it had a metal fire escape staircase extending up the side.
He hurtled up, reaching the top of the building and using the wind to stop on a dime. He waved to the news crew, who were still in the process of getting their camera set up. There was another noise, and Malcolm glanced up to see a news chopper there, as well, filming him from above.
“That’s bold,” he muttered. “Especially given the nature of my power.”
He imagined what would happen if he sent a strong gust into the helicopter from the side, or hit it with wind from directly above, slamming down into its blades. Part of Malcolm delighted at the idea, even though he knew that it would probably get the people inside killed. Using his power felt amazing, and he wasn’t sure how much it mattered what he used it for.
Malcolm shook the thoughts away, instead focusing on a less deadly alternative. There was a building nearby, just across the street, and the roof was a story or two lower than the one he was currently on. His body tingled with excitement. He wanted to do it. He had to do it.
He broke off at a dead sprint, pulling the wind along with him. There was a small concrete lip around the building’s edge, and he set one foot on it before pushing off into open air. The wind hurtled him forward, his clothes flapping against his skin. He moved forward, still descending slightly, but easily crossing the gap and landing on the new building’s roof with several feet to spare.
“YES!” he shouted. “Hell yeah!”
There was more to it than just exhilaration. Using his wind powers had an extra euphoric edge to it. Malcolm kept running across the new building’s roof, immediately leaping to another nearby. He soared through the air and landed on target, crossing a distance of fifty feet, at least.
The news copter kept pace with him. He considered whether he could outrun it. Malcolm jumped to another building, and then another, each time feeling more comfortable with the extent of his abilities.
He was moving out of Vanderbrook’s modest downtown area and into the residential neighborhoods. Cars were stopped in the street. People stood in clumps on sidewalks, pointing at him, and trying to snap photos. Malcolm waved at them, looking away as he jumped from one house to another.
He cleared the gap easily, and landed in the center of an open skylight. Malcolm’s surprise manifested in his chest, his heart skipping a beat as he tried to push himself upward with the wind as he fell. It wasn’t enough.
He landed in a bedroom, on top of a bed. The fall was gentle, bruising his pride, more than his body. Malcolm let go of the wind for a moment and felt his thoughts immediately start to clear up.
I need to chill. Making the press chase me and jumping on people’s roofs is probably not the best way to introduce myself to the world as a champion.
“You…” said a woman’s voice. “You’re… him.”
There was someone else in the bed. An attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties was underneath the sheets directly beside him, holding a comforter up to her neckline. Her hair was red, and her face was pretty and slightly freckled. She was staring at a large flat screen TV on the other side of the room, which was currently tuned into the local news.
“We’re not sure where the new champion is at the moment,” said a reporter. “He was jumping from building to building, probably testing out the strength of his abilities, but it seems as though he managed to slip away after one of the jumps.”
“Interesting,” said another reporter. “And do we know anything about the identity of this champion? Or the nature of his powers?”
“We’ve spoken with several students at Vanderbrook Community College who claim that he was a student there,” said the first reporter. “They also say that his abilities are related to either gravity, or the wind.”
“Fascinating,” said the other reporter.
Malcolm shook his head, unsure of how to feel about hearing them talk about him in the third person. He sat up on the bed, noticing the woman again and feeling like a massive dick for intruding on her space.
“I… am so sorry,” said Malcolm. “I’m just going to let myself out.”
“Hold on!” said the woman. “Please. Let me get a picture with you, at least!”
She stood up, still holding the sheet around her, and started walking toward the table where she’d set her phone. Malcolm chuckled and shook his head, feeling a bit awkward.
“I’m a trespasser,” he said. “I think it’s probably best if I just go.”
“Really?” The woman smiled at him. She had a gorgeous smile, and there was something vaguely flirtatious about the gleam in her eye.
“Yes, really,” said Malcolm. “The press is going to figure out that I’m here in a couple of minutes.”
The woman let the sheet drop. She was naked underneath.
“There must be… something I can do to convince you to stay,” said the woman. “Just for a minute or two?”
She slowly walked toward him. Her body was incredible, and Malcolm gaped openly at her big breasts. She seemed confident in her sexuality, and her smile only grew broader as she noticed the blush in Malcolm’s cheeks.
“Whoa, okay,” he said, scratching his head. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
She stepped in close to him and set a finger on his lips. Malcolm had fooled around a bit with girls before, but he’d never had one come onto him like this. And certainly, not one this attractive before, or this serious about getting what she wanted.
“Please?” asked the woman. “I’ll do the convincing upfront?”
She pushed him back, and Malcolm fell onto the bed. Her hands were immediately on his jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, and then pulling them down. He reached down, ready to stop her. She took his hand by the wrist and brought his index finger into her mouth, sucking on the length of it and letting out a seductive moan.
“Wow…” he said. There wasn’t much else for him to say. The woman pulled his boxers down. He was already hard, and watched her with all the focus of a horny teenage male as she pursed her lips and wrapped her hand around his shaft.
“You’re just a boy,” said the woman, in a teasing voice. “But you’re still a champion.”
She planted a kiss on the tip of his erection, and Malcolm felt pleasure surge into him from the point of contact. Her lips slowly parted, and she brought her head down, pulling him into a warm, wet paradise of mouth and tongue.
Maybe this is just one of the perks of the job?
He watched her slowly begin to suck, half dazed from the pleasure of it. The woman knew exactly what she was doing, and Malcolm wasn’t all that surprised. She didn’t even know his name, yet, and they were already fooling around. Though, she knew that he was one of the gifted, a champion, and perhaps that detail was all that really mattered to her.
The woman’s hand stroked the base of his shaft, while her tongue and lips pleasured the tip and upper half. She was confident, deliberate, and beautiful. Malcolm reached his hand out and ran it across her cheek. The woman took it as encouragement, and slid her lips down even further.
Her tongue was doing a little trick, tapping and teasing the sensitive underside of his erection. She was looking at him, her green eyes locked onto his, full of excitement and pride. It was as though she felt like she was getting more out of it than he was, and maybe that was true, in way.
“Oh…” Malcolm ran his hand through her hair. “Hey… I’m about to…”
The woman moved started moving her mouth faster. Her lips made a tight seal around his shaft, unyielding, even as Malcolm passed over the edge. He bucked his hips upward and groaned as the pleasure hit him in an incredible burst. The woman kept sucking, running one hand along his thigh, encouraging him to unload in her hot mouth.
And he did.
CHAPTER 3
Malcolm was drained from the experience. He leaned his head back in the bed, closing his eyes for a moment. His day had been incredible, and there was still so much waiting for him outside. It was a little intimidating, now that he had a chance to think about it.
“Smile!” The woman slid up next to him in bed, taking a selfie of the two of them before Malcolm had a chance to say anything. “That one’s for my Instagram.”
“Hey,” he said. “That’s kind of rude.”
He stood up and started pulling his pants on. The woman kept taking photos.
“Hey!” he said, a little louder.
“Relax,” she said. “They’re just photos. And they’re going to be worth a fortune. The first intimate photos of a new champion, not even an hour into his powers.”
“Are you… being serious right now?”
The woman took another photo. Malcolm scowled, reaching out with the wind and trying to knock the phone out of her hand. She clutched it to her naked breasts and glared at him.
“If you try to hurt me, I swear to god I’ll start filming!” she said. “Do you want that to be the world’s first impression of you?”
Malcolm massaged his temples.
“Okay, I’m gonna go,” he said.
If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
She followed him, taking photos even as he walked out her front door and into the street. The news copter had apparently gone off in another direction, and there was no media presence waiting for him.
He wasn’t sure what, exactly, to do next. He’d left his backpack on campus, but there wasn’t much in it that he needed, beyond some textbooks and an extra hooded sweatshirt. Heading home would mean submerging himself into the media frenzy again. There was no doubt that the press would have his apartment staked out.
Malcolm started walking down the sidewalk, headed in a direction that would take him toward the outskirts of town. He felt for his powers again, but didn’t use them, remembering how he’d been swept up in the sensation last time. The powers had an allure to them, a mysterious intensity that pulled him in.
He’d been walking for close to ten minutes when a black BMW slowed to a stop next to him. Malcolm sighed and forced a smile onto his face, figuring that he might have to sign an autograph, or maybe pose for a photo.
The tinted driver’s side window rolled down and a young woman smiled at him from behind it. She was attractive, and probably close to the same age as him. She had blonde hair, green eyes, and a curious confidence about her, as though she knew something important that he didn’t.
“You aren’t going to run off again, are you?” she asked. “It took us far longer than we expected to pinpoint your location, young man.”
Malcolm snorted.
“Young man?” he asked. “You’re like, the same age as me. And… wait a second, what did you just say?”
The girl opened the door of the car and stepped out of it. The first thing Malcolm noticed was that she had an amazing figure. She wore a long sleeve grey blouse and black leggings, and the clothes were tight enough to show off her small, well-formed breasts and a solid, athletic butt.
She was shorter than he was by quite a bit, but the way she moved made him think that her height suited her perfectly. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she nodded to him, extending her hand to shake his.
“Malcolm, right?” she asked. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m with the United States Champion Authority.”
Malcolm felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. He’d heard nothing but good things about USCA and champions in general. They were a force for peace in the world, protecting the civilian population against the sprytes and demons that had come into existence at the start of the Phenomenon, along with more mundane threats.
It was either a spryte or a demon that killed my family. This is exactly what I’ve wanted, all this time.
He realized that he’d been staring at the girl for several silent seconds and quickly cleared his throat.
“Uh, yeah, I’m Malcolm,” he said. “And you are…?”
“You can call me Tapestry,” said the girl. “Will you come with us without a fight?”
Her question prompted several of the other doors of the car to open in unison. Malcolm watched as a short, balding man with tufts of red hair clinging to the crown of his head stepped out of the passenger side. And both back seats. Three identical copies of the man stood watching him, only differentiated by their clothing.
“That’s Multi,” said Tapestry.
The nearest of the copies stepped toward Malcolm, while the other two circled around behind him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Wind Runner,” said the Multi in front of him.
“Uh… Wind Runner?” Malcolm shook his head in confusion. Tapestry cleared her throat, pulled out her phone, and spent a couple of seconds looking for something. She passed it to him, and Malcolm found himself staring at a selfie that the naked woman, who was apparently named Emily, had taken and posted to Instagram.
Just hooked up with a champion! #Wind Runner
“It’s catchy,” said Multi. “I think it’s going to stick, whether you want it to or not.”
“Uh…” Malcolm just shook his head, totally at a loss for words.
“Right…” said Multi. “I’m Ted Shelton, also known as Multi. I’m the Executive Director of the Greater Vanderbrook USCA chapter.”
He shook Malcolm’s hand.
“Okay,” said Malcolm. “So… what now?”
Tapestry smiled at him. Each of the Multis set a hand on his shoulder or back, and pushed him toward the open backseat door of the BMW.
“Now, you come with us,” said Tapestry.
CHAPTER 4
Malcolm sat between two identical Multis in the back of the BMW, feeling awkward and tense. He’d asked several questions immediately after the ride had begun, mostly about what was happening to him, and where they were taking him. The Multis had each just shaken their head at him. Tapestry told him that he’d have his answers soon enough.
They drove into the outskirts of town, across the badly maintained roads that cut through the wilderness preserve that touched Vanderbrook on the south and west edges. The sky grew cloudier as they got further out, and it almost felt like a reflection of Malcolm’s own mood.
This whole “being a champion” thing has gone from fun to serious in a very short amount of time.
He frowned, also feeling a little annoyed that he was sitting in the middle seat, and didn’t really have a window to look out of, other than the one straight ahead. Tapestry glanced back at him over her shoulder and smiled reassuringly.
“Hey,” she said. “You look a little overwhelmed.”
“Well, I feel it,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I’m more than a little outside my comfort zone, right now. It would help if you’d explain a little more.”
“We do it this way for a reason,” said Tapestry. “Trust me, we don’t mean you any harm. It’s all part of the process.”
Malcolm nodded, but her words only made him want answers more. Tapestry turned the car onto a dirt road, driving them down a stretch where the trees were tall and thick with branches, choking out most of the sun’s light.
At the end of the road, Tapestry brought the car to a stop outside of a large, dome shaped building. It was built on the edge of a hill, just past where the trees thinned out into a clearing. He parked the car next to a truck and a motorcycle, and everyone climbed out.
“We’re heading inside,” said Multi. “You’ve been very cooperative so far, Malcolm. Just don’t freak out or doing anything impulsive, okay?”
Malcolm was about to ask what he meant by that when Tapestry came up beside him, setting one hand on his shoulder and smiling cordially. Her other hand was positioned on top of a small bulge on the side of her waist.
A gun. Somehow, I doubt I can do much about that with the wind.
“Fair enough,” said Malcolm. “Look, I came with you guys willingly. I just want to know what’s going on, and uh, I guess what I’m supposed to do now?”
“We know,” said Tapestry. “And I’m sorry that we have to take this approach with you. It’s just how the Champion Authority brings in new recruits. Standard procedure.”
Malcolm nodded, walking alongside her as she gently guided him forward by the shoulder. Two of the Multis went ahead, inputting passcodes into a keypad next to a large, metal door at the front of the dome.
“This is the Vanderbrook HQ,” said Tapestry. “We just call it ‘The Dome’ for short. It’s where all of the local champions report in for briefings and missions.”
“Local champions?” Malcolm raised an eyebrow at her. “In Vanderbrook?”
His hometown had just under fifty thousand residents, and the only champions he’d ever heard of appeared right at the start of the Phenomenon, five years earlier. A few sprytes and demons, such as the one that murdered his family, passed through the town occasionally, but as far as he knew, there were no champions currently in residence.
“Well, I guess I’m the only true local champion,” said Tapestry. “Multi and Morph are transplants from other parts of the country. And I guess technically you now, too.”
“What?” Malcolm shook his head, frowning. “Why haven’t I heard of you, then? Most people who are gifted get serious media attention.”
“That’s a common misconception,” said Tapestry. “I gained my gift three years ago, in the comfort of my own home. My power isn’t flashy, and it wasn’t exactly hard for me avoid the media and contact the USCA discretely.”
Malcolm looked from her, back to the Multis, as the group of them started down a metal hallway with strips of LEDs lighting it from the ceiling.
“Multi… Morph…” he repeated. “Those names do sound… a little familiar, now.”
“Multi was one of the champions who did the toy line last year,” said Tapestry, smiling. “And Morph has done a few commercials, though she really isn’t much of a fan of acting.”
The three Multis all cleared their throats in unison.
“Enough,” said the one in the lead. “We have to give him the tests before we let him in on anything further.”
Multi took a turn through a door on the right-hand side of the hallway, his two clones standing guard just outside. Tapestry walked in with him, and a third champion, one that Malcolm recognized on sight, stood in the center of the room, getting a chair ready.
“You’re… Morph,” said Malcolm, pointing at her.
She was a tiny woman in her mid-twenties, with brown hair, glasses, and a mousey face. Her power allowed her to transform into the last animal she’d touched, and she’d showed it off in a commercial for PETA that had run during the Super Bowl the previous year, bringing her an enormous amount of international attention.
“I don’t like to go by my champion name, normally,” said the mousey woman. “Just call me Anna, please.”
“Malcolm,” said Malcolm. “Hey… wait a second. Anna… Morph? Seriously? That’s a perfect fit, given your powers.”
Anna rolled her eyes at him.
“Yes, like the books, I know,” she said, dryly. “If you only knew how many times I’ve heard the joke before…”
“Anna,” said Multi, cutting the conversation short. “Get the straps on him.”
“The straps?” asked Malcolm. “That’s not really necessary, is it?”
“Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “If we’re going to be able to trust you, we need to know more about you and how your powers work. Namely, your weakness.”
“My… weakness?” he asked.
“It might not be something obvious,” she said. “And it might not be something we can test for. But this is standard procedure. Every champion goes through it, when they’re first brought in.”
Malcolm hesitantly sat down in the chair in the center of the room, waiting while Anna pulled the leather straps on each of the armrests over his wrists. He noticed something that he’d missed before. She had a metal armband around her wrist, as did Tapestry, though she had hers mostly hidden under the sleeve of her blouse.
“Good,” said Multi. “I’ll be monitoring from the observation room. Tapestry, Anna, take it from here.”
Multi shut the door to the room firmly behind him. A tense silence hung over the air. Malcolm looked back and forth between the two women, feeling a bit more concerned about what the test would entail than he had before.
The first thing Tapestry did was take his blood pressure, along with a surprisingly large blood sample. Malcolm fidgeted a little in his chair, knowing that the experience was going to diverge from a normal doctor’s examination.
“Now Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “I’m going to set up a small ball on the ground in front of you. All you need to do is attempt to use your wind manipulation to move it while we try out a few different stimuli on you.”
“Is this safe?” he asked. “What happens if I accidentally summon a tornado? This place is insured for that, right?”
Tapestry smiled.
“Relax Malcolm,” she said. “It will be fine. Normally, I would be the only one in here during the ability testing. My power is regeneration, and I can take a beating if things get wild and crazy. But given the extent what we’ve seen of your powers, I think it’s no issue for Anna to be here, too.”
I feel like I was just subtly insulted…
“Now,” said Tapestry. “Are you ready to begin?”
CHAPTER 5
Tapestry instructed Malcolm to keep his head facing forward, which kept him from being able to see what the two women were doing behind his back. A minute went by, and then he felt the familiar warm gust of an electric heater being directed at his neck.
“Go ahead, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “See if you can still use your powers”
“Okay.” Malcolm stretched his palm open, summoning the wind and lifting the ball into the air. He let it drop after a few seconds, feeling pleased with himself.
“No heat weakness,” said Tapestry. “Moving on.”
They went through a dozen different weaknesses in almost as many minutes. Malcolm had water poured over his head, needles pricking his finger, citrus juice sprayed onto his palm, and various other tests. Each time, he remained able to move the ball.
“Alright, Malcolm,” said Tapestry, after watching him move the ball while holding his breath. “Sometimes weaknesses are related to particular emotions. There are two in particular that seem to be rather common that we can test for here in the lab.”
“Alright,” said Malcolm. “How exactly is this going to…”
“Start lifting the ball,” said Tapestry.
He did, feeling a stupid. Half a second later, the massive paw of a large cat settled on his shoulder. Malcolm lurched forward in surprise, feeling the claws scratch across his upper arm.
“Jesus!” he said. If not for the straps, he would have fallen out of the chair. Tapestry let out a stifled, guilty laugh.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Malcolm,” she said. “It’s just Anna. Fear test.”
“Right…” His face was hot with embarrassment. “I should have guessed that would be how you’d do it.”
“Anna?” said Tapestry. “Can you come back to human form so you can give the… other, emotional test?”
Malcolm couldn’t see behind him, but he heard a small rush of air, along with a tiny popping noise, and then heard Anna’s voice.
“Tapestry, come on,” she said, with a sigh. “You would be better at this one than me.”
“I’m flattered that you would say so, Anna,” said Tapestry. “But really. I couldn’t.”
“Tapestry…” said Anna. “How about this? We both do it.”
“Anna, please.”
“It’ll be quicker,” said Anna. “And it’s only fair.”
Malcolm frowned, unsure of whether he liked the sound of the conversation or not.
“Alright, fine.” Tapestry walked around to the front of Malcolm’s chair and smiled at him reassuringly. “Malcolm, the other common emotion that oftentimes can be a weakness for the gifted is…”
She bit her lip, hesitating. Her face turned beat red, and it was one of the cutest things Malcolm had ever seen.
I think I know what it is. But this is just too funny.
“What?” asked Malcolm, trying to sound oblivious, “What is it? Is it happiness? Confusion?”
“Malcolm…” Tapestry hesitated again, fidgeting a little in front of him. “You know how when a man and woman are… attracted to each other, sometimes-”
“Jesus Christ, Tapestry,” said Anna. “I can see why you wanted me to do it so badly.”
Anna walked around to the front of his chair, and instead of explaining or saying anything, she crouched down next to Malcolm, moving in close. She was relatively average looking, without the pretty face or petite curves that Tapestry had to work with, but there was something intense about her.
“Hey,” she said to Malcolm, flashing a small smile. She stretched her hand out and slid it across his chest, and then his stomach.
“Hey,” said Malcolm. He grinned back at her, pleased to have finally reached a test that was fun for him, too.
“It’s still part of the test, Malcolm,” said Tapestry, in a matter of fact voice. “She’s testing for a weakness related to arousal, or lust.”
“Oh, really?” said Malcolm, with a tinge of sarcasm. Anna’s hand had settled on his thigh, and she was slowly running it back and forth, within an inch of his manhood.
“So, whenever you’re ready…” said Tapestry, sounding a little uncomfortable. “Malcolm?”
Tapestry frowned and leaned forward in front of him, inadvertently pushing her chest into his face.
“It would go faster if you helped,” said Anna. “Just saying…”
Tapestry made an annoyed noise and scowled at both of them. She placed a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, patting it a couple of times in the shyest attempt at being sexy that he’d ever seen.
“Does this help?” asked Tapestry. She made eye contact with Malcolm, and blushed. He felt himself getting hard, and suddenly unable to look away from the small blonde woman. There was something even sexier about the nature of that cute, embarrassed look that than anything else she could have done.
Well, almost anything else.
“Okay,” said Malcolm, clearing his throat. “I’m… good.”
Anna moved away from him immediately. Tapestry lingered for a moment, blushing and looking as though she felt like she had something more to say. She finally rubbed Malcolm’s shoulder and disengaged, stepping back so he could get a clear view of the ball.
Malcolm clenched his hand, and manipulated the wind from above, bouncing the ball in place. He shrugged.
“I’m actually kind of glad that’s not it,” said Malcolm. “That would be so inconvenient.”
“Did you ever hear the story of Stealthskin?” asked Anna. “Basic invisibility champion with that weakness, though he never made the connection about it.”
“What happened?” asked Malcolm.
“He’d try to hide in the women’s locker room,” said Anna. “He got arrested for indecent exposure seven times, escaping police custody after each. He’s a pencil pusher in the USCA now.”
“No morals whatsoever,” said Tapestry. “Filthy pervert.”
“I mean, as a guy, I can kind of…” Malcolm trailed off, feeling as though he was veering dangerously close to “filthy pervert” territory. He tried to look over his shoulder at the women, but before he could, something cold and metallic pressed against the back of his neck.
“Alright, Malcolm,” said Anna. “Try to use your power.”
“Okay,” he said. He focused, and was about to hit the ball with another blast of wind when a very mild electric current came from whatever Anna had against him. The tingling sensation wasn’t painful, but it was distinct, and more importantly, it was as though it instantly severed Malcolm’s link to his ability.
“I… can’t,” he said, after a couple of frustrating seconds.
“Shock,” said Anna. “That’s not unusual for a champion with wind manipulation.”
“It’s a minor weakness, though,” said Tapestry. “Just keeps him from using it.”
The current stopped, and Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief. He took a slow breath, making a mental note be very careful around anything electrical in the future. He thought about what Tapestry had just said.
“Minor weakness?” he asked. “Are there major weaknesses, too?”
“Minor, major, and fundamental,” said Tapestry, as she started to undo his wrist bonds. “Minor is what you just experienced. It keeps you from using your abilities. Major would be a weakness that renders you unconscious or dead from exposure. And fundamental…”
“Fundamental is water if you have fire conjuration,” said Anna. “A weakness that has to do with the nature of your abilities, rather than your connection to your power.”
“Gotcha.” Malcolm rubbed his wrists, furrowing his brow as both women come back into view. “What comes next?”
“Now,” said Tapestry. “You can relax. At least for the moment.”
CHAPTER 6
Anna stayed in the testing room, while Tapestry led Malcolm outside and down another hallway. He still had a countless number of questions about what was going on and what he needed to know, but held back instead of asking them.
They’ve been straight with me, so far. I just need to be patient.
“Here,” said Tapestry. “You’re going to want to change out of your clothes and take shower.”
“Uh, okay.” Malcolm raised an eyebrow at her. “Any particular reason why?”
“Standard procedure,” said Tapestry. “We know your weakness, so you aren’t as much of a threat now, but we still need to ensure that you don’t have anything hidden before bringing you into HQ.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“I guess I can’t blame you for being suspicious,” he said.
Tapestry gestured to the door they were standing next to, and he headed through it. It led to a large locker room, with shower stalls lining one side. It was clean, and smelled far better than any locker room Malcolm could ever remember being in.
Tapestry had followed him in. He frowned a little as he reached for the hem of his t-shirt.
“Are you going to watch me?” he asked.
She scowled at him, blushing a little.
“Its standard procedure,” said Tapestry. “Just act like I’m not here.”
Act like a hot twenty-year-old blonde isn’t watching me strip and shower. Sure, no problem.
Malcolm took his clothes off, hesitating for a moment before pulling down his boxers. He didn’t glance over to see if she reacted at all to getting a full frontal, and she didn’t break the silence to offer any opinion. He was still a little aroused from the unique weakness test they’d done, and wasn’t sure whether to be happy or ashamed.
He slipped into one of the shower stalls and turned on the water, taking the chance and turning around to face Tapestry directly. She flinched slightly when his gaze met hers, as though she hadn’t expected him to have the nerve to make eye contact.
“So…” said Malcolm, feeling suddenly awkward. “You had to go through this too, when you first joined?”
“I did,” she said. “It was… embarrassing for me too.”
Malcolm was suddenly picturing her naked, in the shower. He bit his lip, trying to push the image away before it got him too worked up.
“Was Multi the one who stood and watched?” he asked. “I can’t imagine that was much fun.”
“No,” said Tapestry. “Anna was. She’s been a champion since Day One of the Phenomenon, though I’m technically her superior here, now.”
“How did that happen?” asked Malcolm.
“It’s a long story,” said Tapestry. “Focus on getting washed up.”
Malcolm shrugged, and ran his hands through his wet hair. It felt oddly thrilling to have her watching him, now that the situation was underway. He glanced back at her as he ran his hands across his stomach and crotch. She was still blushing, and it was hard to tell if her interest in watching was purely limited to “standard procedure”, as she’d put it before.
“Finished,” he said, after a couple more minutes.
Tapestry blinked, and then cleared her throat.
“Right.” She walked over to one of the lockers and pulled out a folded set of clothing. “You can have these to wear, for now. Your other clothes will be returned to you when you leave.”
“Fine by me,” said Malcolm.
He pulled the clothes on, a white t-shirt, white sweat pants, and white socks. He felt a little like he was joining some kind of cult, and had just been through the initiation process. Tapestry seemed more relaxed, now that the showering was done, though a bit of weird tension still lingered between them.
They walked further down the metal hallway, and it exited out into what Malcolm assumed was the dome’s main room. It took up a full half of the spherical space, the roof curving several dozen feet overhead.
The center of the room held what looked like a command station, with several computer terminals, currently manned by copies of Multi. The one in the center looked up as Malcolm and Tapestry approached, nodding to them.
“Is he ready for orientation?” asked Multi.
“Yeah,” said Tapestry. “Can I bring him in?”
“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll activate the projector once you’re inside.”
Orientation? Maybe this is going to be a bit like a cult, after all…
She led him around the edge of the room. There were stairs leading up to a second level, and Tapestry gestured for him to follow her up. They passed of dormitories on the way, with the walls inside each room lined with more bunkbeds than they could ever need, from the headcount Malcolm had taken up to that point.
“Do you guys get a lot of visitors, or something?” he asked.
Tapestry glanced over at him, and smiled and nodded.
“All of the Champion Authority HQs are designed to be able to accommodate a small army,” she said. “That’s what it sometimes takes to handle a spryte or a demon that’s running amuck.”
Malcolm wanted to ask her more about that, but she stopped in front of a new doorway and waved him inside. He walked into a small movie theater, complete with massive speakers, a projector and screen, and the requisite darkness. He took a seat in the middle row. Tapestry remained standing behind him, shutting the door and cutting off the last bit of light.
He didn’t have to wait long for the movie to start. The speakers crackled to life, and the projector turned on. Music played, sounding like something out of the 1950s, and a simple caption appeared across the screen.
“So you’ve discovered that you have a super gift?” muttered Malcolm, reading it out loud. Tapestry hushed him.
The scene cut to an open, grass field, and a handsome older man with a nice haircut and an expensive suit walked into frame, smiling cordially.
“Hi there,” said the man. “I’m Savior, Head Director of the Champion Authority and United States Senator. You may remember me from such historical events as the signing the Champion Peace Accord in Brussels, or the Battle of Port Adelaide.”
The scene shifted again, now to a basketball court. Savior walked back into frame, this time wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts. He smiled to someone off screen and caught a pass.
“You may be confused and a little scared of what’s happening to you. I’m sure you have many questions. The most important thing to keep in mind can be described by a simple acronym – SUPER.”
The acronym appeared for a moment as a caption in front of Savior’s grinning face, and then the scene shifted again. He was in the back of a pizza place, wearing an apron and sliding a massive wooden spatula into an oven to pull out a pizza.
“S stands for scientists,” said Savior. “Unfortunately, scientists are still working to explain what’s happened to you. The energy that allows you and I to use our ‘superpowers’ is not currently understood. However, in each case where scientists have looked closer, the powers have never been shown to technically violate the laws of physics.”
Savior was riding a bicycle into frame, pulling to a stop in front of the camera and wiping sweat from his brow. Malcolm watched, totally bewildered by the video’s overall choice of direction.
“U for using them responsibly,” said Savior. “The Champion Authority’s goal, above all else, is to teach you to use your powers responsibly. It takes time, practice, and resolve, but with a little bit of moxie and an open mind, you can be a force of good for the world.”
Another scene change, this time to the beach.
“P for, uh…” Savior frowned and looked like he was reading a cue card off screen. “Please! P for please. Please keep in mind that while you can affect the world with your powers, your powers will also affect you. All side effects of body load and mental euphoria are to be reported directly to your local branch of the Champion Authority.”
The scene switched. Savior was back in his suit, filling out a form at the bank.
“E, which stands for enhance,” he said, in a half-whispered voice. “You will be issued a special wrist-worn champion stabilizer, which will enhance your powers and allow you to control them more effectively. Take good care of it. These things aren’t cheap to replace!”
A laugh track played in the background. Malcolm almost couldn’t believe it.
“And finally,” said Savior, standing on top of a tall building overlooking a city. “R, for remember. We must always remember that we have a duty, as champions, to fight against the sprytes and the demons. It’s part of the deal we’ve been given in receiving our gifts. The world is counting on both me and you!”
Savior grinned at the camera, setting his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out. The 50s music played again, and a short list of credits rolled by. Malcolm scratched his head as the lights in the theater turned on. He stood up and walked toward Tapestry, who was waiting by the door.
“That was… interesting,” he said.
Tapestry gave him an odd look.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
“It was like was like something out of the Golden Age,” said Malcolm.
“And?” she said, sounding a little annoyed. “It was filmed in a classic style.”
“Right…” Malcolm shook his head. He couldn’t tell if she was being serious with him or not.
“Anyway,” she said. “Multi is going to want to speak with you some more, and you’ll have to get your stabilizer equipped. But that’s probably just about it for today.”
Malcolm furrowed his brow.
“Am I going to be living here now, or…?”
“No, no, don’t be silly,” said Tapestry. “Multi and Anna live here, but only because they aren’t from Vanderbrook originally. I’ll drop you off back at your apartment once we’re finished.
Malcolm nodded. Tapestry led him down the stairs and back into the main, open room.
CHAPTER 7
Multi, with several of his copies on either side of him, sat in the command center and watched them walk over. Malcolm got a vaguely managerial vibe from the man, as though he was an overstressed bureaucrat, flanked by his aides and looking forward to retirement.
All three of the Multis were smoking cigarettes, and Tapestry didn’t seem to find it unusual. Malcolm took the seat the lead Multi pointed to as he walked up the steps and onto the command center. Multi cleared his throat, snuffed out his cigarette in an ash tray, and steepled his fingers.
“Well, Malcolm,” he said. “Now that you’ve gotten a sense of what’s going on… How do you feel?”
That’s a pretty open ended question.
“Good,” he said. “Good, and a little confused. I’m here. I’ve gone through this orientation… so what now? Am I on your payroll? Do I have a choice in whether to join up here, or not?”
Multi smiled a little. He had dark bags under his eyes, his skin looked terribly aged for someone with the ability to make perfect copies of himself.
“You have a choice about how involved you want to be,” said Multi. “If you want to continue living your normal life, we would allow it. But even someone with powers like yours could be a massive help to our operation.”
“Powers… like mine?” asked Malcolm. “Dude, come on.”
Multi chuckled. He pulled out another cigarette and patted his pockets until he found his lighter.
“We rate abilities on a scale of one to ten,” he said. “From what we’ve seen of you, the videos the news channel played on TV… Well, you’re about a three.”
Malcolm felt righteously offended by the assessment, and had to resist the urge to defend himself. He’d only had his powers for a single day. Yesterday, by their scale, he’d been a zero.
“Of course, the stabilizer would probably bring you up to a five,” said Multi. “And with serious training, you might peak at about a six, possibly a seven, if you’re lucky. Speaking of which.”
The Multi to his left nodded, and walked over to a small metal box. He opened it and pulled something out that Malcolm recognized. Both Anna and Tapestry wore one, a small metal arm bracelet with a thick, high tech clasp. None of the Multis wore them, however.
Of course not. He’d have to put a new one on each time he made a new copy.
The thought made him consider Multi’s abilities more carefully. He wondered if all of them were seeing out of the same perspective, and sharing memories. It didn’t seem like they were. They weren’t smoking their cigarettes in sync with each other, at least.
“Let me see your wrist,” said the main Multi.
Malcolm held his arm out, and another question came to mind.
“Savior mentioned sprytes and demons in the video,” he said. “The Champion Authority hunts them down, right?”
Multi nodded. He pulled the stabilizer around Malcolm’s wrist and secured the clasp.
“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it,” said the balding man. “The same unknown force that gives us our powers causes some people to turn into, well, for lack of a better term, monsters. Sprytes and demons still look a bit like people, but they lack the empathy and mental capacity required to live without destroying and killing.”
“Right,” said Malcolm. “I know. My family… was killed by one.”
“I’m sorry,” said Multi.
“It was on the first day, at the very start of the Phenomenon,” he said. “Do you have lists of active sprytes and demons? Anything that I could look at to get a sense of which one might have done it?”
Multi frowned and looked away from him.
“Trust me son, that’s not a good path for you to go down. Getting revenge won’t bring them back, and it will only lead you down a dark road. But I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
I’d appreciate him being more helpful.
“Anyway,” continued Multi. “Can I assume that you’d be willing to work with us? You might not ever reach the point where your wind manipulation is strong enough for you to fly, or make tornados, or anything like that, but you could still be quite useful.”
Again, Multi’s words scraped at him a little bit. Malcolm had been dreaming of flying since the very first jump he’d done from rooftop to rooftop that morning. He wasn’t ready to rule it out for himself, just yet.
“Sure,” he said. “I want to help. At the very least, I’ll be doing what I can to prevent anyone else’s family from being murdered by those monsters.”
“Great,” said Multi. He coughed into the crook of his arm and quickly shook Malcolm’s hand in goodbye. “Tapestry will serve as your mentor for the next few weeks. She’ll walk you through the basics, and help you make smart decisions. Speaking of which, the media is in a frenzy over all the shit you pulled this morning.”
“Uh…”
“No more frolicking around on roof tops,” said Multi. “And certainly, no more frolicking around with naked women whose windows you fall through.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“It takes two to frolic,” he said.
Multi didn’t look amused.
“You might have to do an interview to get the local news to calm down about that,” said Multi. “Again, Tapestry will be the one helping you with that. For now, just don’t do anything stupid.”
Malcolm nodded.
Simple enough.
Tapestry spoke with Multi briefly, both of them keeping their voices too low for him to hear. Then, she walked him out of the dome. It was late afternoon, and it took Malcolm’s eyes a second to adjust to the brightness of the setting sun.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in,” said Tapestry, as they climbed into the BMW. “I’m glad you decided to hear Multi out. We really do need more champions on our side in the area.”
Malcolm nodded.
“It feels almost like a dream,” he said. “Like I’m just waiting to wake up. It doesn’t feel real, you know?”
Tapestry nodded. The sun was in her face, and it made her blonde hair look infused with fire as she pulled the car out of the parking area. She glanced over as soon as they were on the road, flashing a smile at him. Her face was beautiful, and there was understanding in her eyes. It made Malcolm feel a little better, to know that she’d been through it, too.
“You’ll get used to it,” she said. “There’s still plenty for you to learn about being a champion. The orientation can be a little overwhelming, and we’ll take it slow for the next few days.”
The two of them headed back down the rough dirt road, and onto the main road. Malcolm watched the trees pass by them as they headed back into Vanderbrook. Rush hour traffic usually wasn’t too bad, given how small the town was, but it did take them a little longer than the trip out.
“What was your life like before you became a champion?” he asked. “How did it change things for you?”
Tapestry chuckled at the question. She smiled at him again, and seemed to consider her answer.
“My life… was different,” she said. “Getting my powers changed everything.”
“That’s a pretty vague answer,” said Malcolm. “I’m being serious. I want to know more about you.”
“I like being vague,” said Tapestry. “And I’m aware that you want to know about me.”
She gave him a look that managed to seem chastising and flirtatious simultaneously. They took the last corner onto his street, and she slowed to a stop in front of his apartment. Malcolm hadn’t given her his address.
They’re already collecting info on me. What else do they know?
“And here we are,” said Tapestry. “Get lots of sleep tonight.”
“Alright.” He nodded to Tapestry, and then smiled. “Do you want to come up and hang out for a bit?”
Tapestry just smiled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Malcolm,” she said. “Wind Runner.”
“Wind Runner,” he repeated. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
He waited, wondering if he could change her mind by phrasing the invitation a little differently. Tapestry’s reaction made him feel like he’d just given a love note to a teacher in grade school. Her expression was a mixture of amusement, understanding, and a gentle assertion of boundaries.
“Uh… Have a safe drive back,” he said.
“Have a nice night, Malcolm,” said Tapestry.
He got out of the car and headed into his apartment.
CHAPTER 8
Malcolm’s one bedroom apartment was cozy and simple, which had always suited him just fine. The kitchen area was small and crammed into the corner, and he didn’t have a proper dining table. He had a couch, a flat screen TV, and a PlayStation in the main room, and that was about it. There were no rugs, paintings, posters, or further decorations of any kind.
It was all paid for by the settlement he’d gotten from the insurance company after the explosion, and those funds had been running low for the past few months. Malcolm had previously been considering picking up a part time job to make ends meet, but discovering his powers and joining the Champion Authority had, as Tapestry had phrased it, changed everything.
Are they going to pay me for helping them? Or at least supply room and board, so I don’t have to keep renting?
He considered both questions along with a half dozen others as he walked around his apartment aimlessly. He was hungry, and took a slice of leftover pizza out of the fridge to eat as he made his way into his bedroom.
Like the rest of the apartment, the décor was rather Spartan. Malcolm had a bed, a desk, a dresser, and a couple of photos of his brother and mother. He’d never been a materialistic person, and never really felt as though he needed much more.
His life was, or at least had been, very simple. He took classes at the community college, came home, did his homework, played video games, and found time to eat during the time in between.
The boring and repetitive nature of his life had never bothered him, but it felt like an egregious thing to return to, now that his life had changed so drastically. Malcolm finished the pizza, knowing that he couldn’t just hang around his apartment and wait for Tapestry to show up the next day to start playing with his powers.
“If I’m going to be a champion,” he said, speaking out loud. “Does that mean… I need a costume?”
Most of the champions he’d seen on TV didn’t bother trying to conceal their identities. Malcolm knew that after the attention the media had given him earlier in the day, it was pointless for him to hope for any real anonymity. Even so, there was something appealing to him about having a costume, in the same way a soldier might take pride in a uniform, or a surgeon in their hospital scrubs.
He settled on a pair of black Adidas track pants and a grey Nike windbreaker, wondering if it would help him live up to his name. It was starting to get dark outside, and Malcolm cautiously left through his apartment’s front door, heading down the stairway he shared with his neighbors and back outside.
The neighborhood he lived in had seen better days. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, exactly, just a little rough in spots. The house next to his apartment was abandoned, and the lawn was overgrown and speckled with beer bottles.
The park across the street was a common hangout spot for junkies and thieves. Malcolm briefly considered hanging around at the edge of it for a while and waiting for a crime to happen before tossing the idea out.
I might have superpowers, but I am far from a superhero. Probably best if I play it safe for tonight.
He considered what he could do that would be a good use of his time, and then remembered the girl from that morning. He hadn’t even gotten her name until Tapestry had shown him the Instagram post. Would it be creepy for him to head back to her house and pay her a surprise visit?
Yes. It would be.
Lacking any better options, Malcolm walked down the street as a pedestrian, headed nowhere in particular. There were a couple of old, abandoned warehouses not far from his neighborhood, on the outskirts of town, and he figured that they’d be as good of a place for him to play around with his wind manipulation as any.
The last vestiges of sunlight were disappearing over the horizon as he approached the empty concrete lot of the disused industrial park. Malcolm looked back toward the populated section of town, scanning the sidewalk to make sure that nobody was around, and then reached out for the wind.
It felt so natural, even more so than it had earlier that morning. It didn’t feel as though he was using a superpower, or really, doing anything more difficult than moving a part of his body. The wind was just an extra muscle, one that he could shift and flex as he wished.
He pulled up a powerful gust and pushed it against his chest and face, leaning into it. His hair flew back behind him, and the pressure was enough for him to trust some of his weight to, supporting enough of his body to let him shift his center of balance dangerously far forward.
It reminded him of when he’d been a kid, and had to walk into the wind on particularly windy days. Malcolm held his position where he was for a moment, and then pulled the wind behind him, instead.
With the wind at his back, he practiced the skill he’d discovered by accident that morning, the one which he’d apparently taken his name from. Wind running let him move faster than any human could, and turn on a dime, if he wanted to, the wind providing both acceleration and brake.
There were a couple of old trash cans behind one of the warehouses. Malcolm pulled them into the air and swirled them around him, wondering how much damage they’d do to someone with a direct hit.
He played with them for a few minutes, feeling a bit like a child with a new toy. He turned his attention to the wall of the warehouse, next, wondering if there was a way he could get up to the roof in lieu of using a fire escape.
Malcolm pulled at the wind with all the strength he had, testing to see if he could summon enough air power to go fully airborne and fly. It wasn’t enough, and it was a little exhausting to attempt. The sensation was a mixture of a strong head rush along with something slightly euphoric.
He glanced down at the stabilizer on his wrist, wondering if it was working like Multi had said it was supposed to. The bracelet felt heavy around his wrist and cold to the touch. It didn’t make any noise, or light up, or give any sign of serving its function.
Weird. Though, maybe it is working, and my powers still just aren’t strong enough.
He decided to try something else. Breaking into a light jog, he ran toward the warehouse, pulling the wind with him on his approach. He leapt up as he came within reach and planted a foot solidly on the building’s graffiti covered concrete wall, trying to kick off and up.
With the wind at his back, he stayed close enough to the wall of the building to kick out with his other leg and start the process over. It was like something out of a video game, wall climbing by kicking continuously. The wind pushed him up and kept him in position, and his legs did the rest.
It was the next best thing to flying, and it only took him a couple of seconds to reach the top and pull himself onto the building. Malcolm let out a satisfied sigh and sat down, taking a minute to recover. His body was tingling, and though the feeling wasn’t unpleasant, it made it a little hard for him to think straight.
A noise came from the abandoned warehouse across from the one he was on. Malcolm stood up slowly, frowning and glancing around, hoping that he wasn’t about to get ambushed by the police or a busybody night security guard. The sound was coming from within the other warehouse, and after a moment’s consideration, he leapt the distance between the two buildings with the assistance of the wind.
Part of the building’s roof had crumbled over the years, and Malcolm could look down on the scene below. Four men had a woman cornered, shining bright flashlights in her face.
For a moment, his mind jumped back to night security, or the police. Then, he listened to what they were saying.
“Nobody would ever know,” said a gruff voice. “We could all have our fun tonight. There’s nobody here but us!”
“I’m with John,” said another voice. “It took us forever to get her in here. Might as well get our rocks off. She’s pretty fucking hot, all things considered.”
Malcolm sighed.
Looks like I’ll be playing crime stopper tonight, after all.
CHAPTER 9
Malcolm took a step into open air, summoning the wind as he fell through the hole in the building’s roof toward the ground. He landed not far from the men, dropping to one knee in the classic superhero style.
The men’s conversation immediately ceased. Two of them turned to face him, the other two keeping their flashlights on the woman. She was curled up in a ball, with the hood of her sweater pulled up over her head.
“Gentleman,” said Malcolm. “You should leave that woman alone.”
“Who the hell are you to be telling us-”
Malcolm pushed his hand forward, summoning as much of the wind as he could and slamming it in the direction of the voice. He saw the man fly off his feet as though he’d slipped on ice. His flashlight flew up into the air, and his head struck the concrete hard.
“That’s a concussion,” said Malcolm. “They’re super bad for you, from what I hear.”
He used a small trail of wind to catch the man’s flashlight, swirling it through the air for a second before striking another man across the face with it. He went down, and Malcolm couldn’t help but smile.
That’s two knockouts in two seconds. At this rate…
He was still smiling when a shoulder thudded into him from behind, catching him completely off guard and knocking him to the ground. The time in between the attack and when he hit was too short for him to cushion his fall with the wind, and all the breath was forced out of his lungs as he landed.
The fifth man who’d surprised him was smart. He followed the attack up with a hard kick to Malcolm’s ribs. The pain was intense, and it kept Malcolm from being able to focus enough to reach for his powers and counterattack.
“Get the girl,” said the fifth man. “And get the others moving. I’ll deal with this fucker.”
“Brett, hold on a sec,” said another man. “He’s the dude from the news! Wind Runner!”
The fifth man hesitated instead of pressing on the attack. It was a mistake. Malcolm had time to take a breath and get a sense of the situation. One of them was dragging the girl out of the building. She was by the door they’d come in through.
Malcolm pushed the man standing over him back with the wind, and then pulled a massive gust down against the hole in the roof he’d fallen in through. Dust and rocks cascaded into the room, obscuring everyone’s vision and striking at least one of the thugs with something painful enough to elicit a grunt of pain.
Malcolm charged toward the girl with the wind at his back. The man dragging her out of the warehouse didn’t see him coming. A quick push was all it took, and then he had the girl in his arms as he took off running across the concrete lot outside.
He made it around the corner of another building and hesitated, wondering if it was alright to leave the men able bodied.
They were talking about rape. But it’s not like I can just murder them in cold blood?
He had a conscience, and on top of that, he wasn’t sure if it would have even been something he could have accomplished with just the wind. If he’d had a knife, or something else dangerous to fling at them, sure. Otherwise, it would still be five against one.
Malcolm listened for a minute, expecting the men to press after him in their search. He was a little surprised when they didn’t. They kept their flashlights on, and he was able to track them as they left the industrial park and headed back in the direction of town.
“Well that’s convenient…” he muttered. He was still holding the girl, and gently carried her into the light of one of the few working lampposts nearby.
She was wearing an oversized black hoodie. Malcolm gently pulled the hood back and froze at what he saw. Her skin had a distinct, purple hue to it. He glanced up, as though there was a chance that it was just being caused by the effect of the streetlight or the ambient light of the sky above, but it was undeniable.
She’s a spryte. She’s not human.
Malcolm had no idea what to do. She was unconscious, but clearly still alive. And the fact that he still held her in his arms meant that she was now his problem.
He briefly considered trying to get in touch with Tapestry, or one of the other champions at the dome. None of them had given him their contact information, however, and it wasn’t as though he had any means of getting back out to headquarters on his own.
Leaving her where he’d found her also wasn’t an option. The men could come back and finish what they’d originally planned. Or, more probably, the spryte could regain consciousness and attack a person, or break into a house.
Malcolm did the only thing that made any sense. Using the wind to buoy his load, he started walking back to his apartment.
It took him longer than it had on the way out, and his arms were tired by the end of it. There weren’t many pedestrians out on the street, which was a small miracle. He set her down to unlock his door once he was in the hallway, and then carefully carried her inside.
Malcolm set her down on the couch and considered everything he knew about sprytes and demons. He’d read every article he could find relating to them shortly after the start of the Phenomenon and his family’s deaths. He’d read stories about fire demons torching entire towns to the ground, and water sprytes sinking ships.
I don’t even know what this spryte’s powers are…
The spryte on his couch made a small noise and blinked her eyes open. Malcolm stiffened, readying himself to fight, if it came to it. The spryte looked up at him, her eyes dark, but strangely expressive.
“Uh… hi,” he said.
The spryte slowly stood up from the couch. She reached down to the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it up and over her head. She was wearing a black t-shirt and yoga pants underneath, clothes tight enough to show off an incredible body.
Malcolm tried his best not to notice, given how little bearing it had on the situation, but it was hard. Her body bordered on being voluptuous, with large, full breasts, a trim waist, and an eye-catching butt.
She was on the tall side, only an inch or two shorter than he was, and her hair was black and glossy. She wore it loose across her shoulders, and it made her seem like she’d just woken up from a deep sleep.
She stared at him with those dark eyes, holding his gaze and making the room come alive with tension. Her lips were pouty and luscious, and the color of the ocean at night. She pulled them up into a slight, suggestive smile, and then turned away from him.
“Hey, hold on a second,” said Malcolm. “I have some questions for you.”
The spryte walked around the couch and further into his apartment. Malcolm scowled and followed after her.
“What were you doing before those men captured you?” he asked. “And why are you in Vanderbrook? Are you planning on attacking the city?”
The spryte walked into his room. It was dark, illuminated only by a small strip of ambient light sneaking in through the curtains of his window. It was enough for him to see her pulling her t-shirt off, and letting it fall to the ground. She turned so that she was standing sideways, and Malcolm could see the illicit bump of the tip of her nipple in her silhouette.
“What… are you doing?” He shook his head, following after her. The spryte was taking off her pants now, bending over to slide them down with the same motions as any human woman.
Malcolm reached for the light switch. He flicked it up, and for the briefest instant, saw her naked from behind. She was gorgeous, a combination of breath taking curves, breasts, and butt. The light was on, and she glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes set into a scowl.
The shadows moved. Malcolm watched in disbelief as tendrils of darkness slipped out from under his bed, behind his door, and outside the window. They took him by his ankles and wrists, pulling his limbs out and holding him like ropes. He stared at the naked spryte in disbelief, struggling against his bonds as fear took hold.
CHAPTER 10
Malcolm mastered his emotions as he stared at the spryte. He wasn’t helpless. He could fight back, even without being able to move.
Clenching his fist, he summoned the wind and slammed the nearest object he could quickly sweep into motion into the spryte’s head. He only realized that the object in question was a harmless pillow after it had already hit her. The force of the gust behind it counted for something, but all it managed to do was distract her for a split second.
The distraction loosened Malcolm’s shadow bonds, and he managed to slip out of them. The spryte was already focusing her attention back on him and summoning more tendrils of darkness. He leapt forward, tackling her. The two of them fell onto his bed in a tangled heap.
She’s still very, very naked…
It was hard for Malcolm to make good use of his powers with their bodies in such close contact. He was on top of her, one of his legs pressed between her thighs. He tried to direct a gust of wind at her face. Her hair blew back, and her breasts jiggled for a brief, magical moment, and nothing else was really accomplished.
Malcolm struggled against her, pinning her arms and pressing his chest down on top of her. He felt the shadow tendrils reaching for him again, but they weren’t trying to restrain, this time. They were scratching at him, or rather, at his clothes.
What the hell…?
He hesitated for an instant, and the spryte’s lips were suddenly against his. They felt hot, and Malcolm kissed her back without even thinking. The shadows were pulling at his shirt, cutting through it in places, and doing the same with his sweatpants. In less than ten seconds, he was just as naked as she was, his clothes lying on the ground in a useless, shredded pile.
He pulled back from the kiss. He still had her hands pinned behind her head, and was about to try another attack with a gust of wind when the spryte began to move. She didn’t struggle against his hold on her. She moved her hips, grinding her naked crotch against his equally naked crotch.
“What… are you doing?” he muttered.
She kissed him again, pushing her tongue into his mouth. Malcolm felt himself getting hard. He hesitated for a moment, and then let go of her hands, tensing up in case she decided to attack him again.
She didn’t attack him. She reached down and took hold of his shaft, slowly stroking it with her soft, gentle fingers. She was smiling at him, and her dark eyes had a hungry, eager look in them.
This is such a bad idea…
Malcolm started to pull back from her, aware of how vulnerable he was, naked and distracted by the spryte’s sexuality. In a flash, the shadow tendrils were back, holding him by the wrists. He stared at her with wide eyes as they pulled him up into the air, holding him upright over his bed.
The spryte was still smiling. She rose to her knees and planted a kiss on his stomach, and then several more along his waist. Malcolm stared down at her in disbelief as her hands moved back to his shaft. He felt incredible, the sensation amplified by the clear danger of the situation.
The spryte looked up at him and met his gaze, holding his erection an inch or so away from her lips. An understanding passed between them without anything needing to be said. She leaned forward, extended her tongue, and gave the tip of Malcolm’s tool a slow, gentle lick.
The shadow tendrils dissipated, and Malcolm was on top of her again in an instant. He couldn’t take it anymore. Regardless of whether it was a trick or not, he had to have her.
He pinned her arms again, this time less out of suspicion and more out of a masculine need to dominate. He pushed the tip of his erection in between her legs, finding her entrance. She was tight and hot, and let out a slow breath as he pushed the first inch or so of his length inside.
Malcolm started thrusting into her as though in a race against time. The spryte’s legs wrapped around him, holding him close with surprising strength. He kissed her, and then shook her legs loose, not wanting to give her any physical avenue to take control back.
She was silent as he pressed into her, but her breathing and facial expression exposed her inner pleasure. Malcolm groped at her breasts, perfect, firm, and dotted with weirdly sexy purple nipples. He let one of his hands run across the smooth skin of her butt and hook behind her leg, pulling her hips up to meet each of his hard, downward movements.
Malcolm pumped into her with all the strength he had, intoxicated by lust, entranced by her body. They were both sweaty, and the bed groaned and creaked underneath them. The spryte was shivering, and she tensed up suddenly, letting out a tiny, audible gasp, the first vocalization he’d heard from her.
Malcolm kept going, kissing her and losing himself to his horniness. He pushed in as deep as he could go, feeling the squeeze of her tight, hot hole. He ground his crotch into hers, and then thrust hard, finding his release.
He didn’t stop to think about whether it would be a good idea to pull out as the pleasure hit him. Malcolm unloaded his seed into the spryte, hot and sticky and careless. He groaned, exhausted by his orgasm, and only then began to think about what the hell he was going to do next.
The spryte seemed to be having similar thoughts. She gently pushed him off her and slid toward the edge of the bed. Tendrils of darkness were moving again. Malcolm reached for the wind, ready to counterattack.
Instead, the spryte pulled her clothes back over to her, slipping on her shirt and stepping into her yoga pants. She pulled her hair loose from the shirt’s collar, crossed her arms over her chest, and then turned around to face him.
“Thank you,” she said. “Phew. That certainly did the trick.”
Her voice was soft and seductive, and shockingly, very humanlike. Malcolm had always assumed that sprytes and demons would sound demonic in some way. She just sounded like any other girl.
“Uh…” He frowned, trying to think of what to say. “You’re… welcome?”
You’re welcome. Smooth, Malcolm. Real smooth.
The spryte stood where she was, watching him carefully. Malcolm was still naked, and he pulled a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser, feeling an awkward tension settle over the room.
“So…?” asked the spryte.
Malcolm shook his head.
“So… what?” he asked.
“So, are you going to try to kill me?” asked the spryte. “You’re a champion, aren’t you?”
CHAPTER 11
Malcolm stood up, too stunned to know how to respond. He shook his head no, and then frowned, feeling like an idiot for the way the situation had played out.
“You’re a spryte…” he said. “But you’re not attacking me. Or, I mean, you were… but you stopped. I don’t understand…”
The spryte shrugged.
“I’m not sure how much I can enlighten you,” she said. “My memory is hazy. Each time I lose myself and come back, it takes a while for the amnesia to wear off.”
“Amnesia…?” Malcolm frowned at her. “So sprytes and demons… don’t have memories?”
“I remember a few things,” said the spryte. “Not much.”
“Your name?”
The spryte frowned.
“It was Rose, I think,” she said. “Black Rose. Though I’m not sure if that was my actual name, or just my champion name, or what.”
Malcolm nodded, and then froze, realizing the implications of what she’d just said.
“Your… champion name?” he asked. “You were a champion? Before you became a spryte?”
“Of course,” said Rose. “All sprytes and demons were once champions, or at least gifted. It’s using your powers, overusing them to be precise, that turns you into one.”
The surprise must have shown through on his face. Rose smiled and licked her lips, clearly amused.
“Wow, they really didn’t explain much to you, did they?” she said.
“Hold on,” said Malcolm, lifting a hand. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t the other champions have told me that? They said that sprytes and demons were corrupted from the beginning, from immediately when they got their gift.”
“Yeah, the optics of it is a lot better for the Champion Authority,” said Rose. “That’s not to say that there weren’t sprytes and demons from Day One, after the Phenomenon. A certain percentage of people, particularly ones with uncontrollable powers, turned into ‘monsters’ really quickly.”
“But I’m part of the Champion Authority…” Malcolm frowned, feeling a bit odd, saying it out loud. “It seems strange that they wouldn’t tell me this.”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” said Rose. “But honestly, stop and think of how much fear it would breed among normal people if they knew that the champions fighting against evil in the world were only a few steps away from turning into monsters.”
Malcolm didn’t say anything. He sat down on the bed and let out a slow breath.
Easy. You can’t necessarily trust everything she’s telling you.
“Okay, so if you were a champion before,” said Malcolm. “Then how did you end up becoming a spryte?”
Rose brought a hand up to her head. She looked as though she was carefully considering his question, trying to find an answer.
“From using my powers too much,” she said. “Beyond that… I don’t know, exactly. There’s so much I can’t remember, even when I’m at my best. Most of the details that have stuck with me are the ones critical to my survival. Speaking of which…”
She pointed at him. Malcolm furrowed his brow, confused. She tapped a hand against her wrist.
“That bracelet thing,” she said. “What’s it called, again?”
“The stabilizer?”
“Yeah,” said Rose, nodding. “It has a bomb in it.”
Malcolm felt a chill run down his back. He reached his other hand over to touch the stabilizer and then stopped, as though now even touching it might be enough to get him killed.
“That’s… insane,” he said.
“It also has a homing beacon, along with technology to keep your mood stable when you use your powers,” said Rose. “That’s more commonly known among champions, however. You haven’t been a member of the authority for long, have you?”
“I just got my powers today,” said Malcolm.
Rose burst out laughing. She saw the expression on his face after a second or two and stopped, stepping in closer to him and looking a little guilty.
“Sorry,” she said. “But seriously, wow. Some first day, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said.
The stabilizer is a means of keeping control… If champions really can turn into monsters, it makes sense.
Malcolm felt overwhelmed by the information. He looked up at Rose. Her eyes were sympathetic, but Malcolm felt a sudden stab of suspicion toward her.
“No, hold on,” he said. “You don’t have any proof to back up any of this. What’s to stop you from lying to me outright? It’s life or death, like you said. I’m a champion.”
“Right…” Rose waved a hand through the air lazily, and the shadow tendrils were suddenly holding Malcolm again, with the addition of a thick bond around his neck. It felt a bit like what he imagined being strangled by a boa constrictor would feel, except colder. “Quite the champion you are, mister…?”
“Malcolm,” he said. “Or, uh… Wind Runner is my champion name.”
“I like Malcolm better,” said Rose. She let her hand drop, and the tendrils disappeared.
He wasn’t sure what to say to her, or how to respond. She’d made her point clear enough. If she was lying to him, it wasn’t in an attempt to save her own life. And the fact that she hadn’t killed him, when she clearly could if she wanted to, also counted for something.
“Rose,” he said. “What do you want? I saved you from those men, but… it’s not like I’ve trapped you here, or anything. I thought sprytes and demons were supposed to be violent and out of control?”
“Some of them are,” said Rose. “That’s just how it is with any person, though. I’m not really like that. Killing, causing destruction… it’s not what I want.”
“What do you want?”
Rose sighed. She was smiling, but her eyes were sad.
“To not feel so fucking empty all the time, I guess,” she said. “To not have to run for my life anymore. Even as a spryte, I still sometimes I dream about settling down, getting married, living a normal life. But I think that ship has sailed.”
Malcolm stared at her, completely bewildered by her response. He forced himself to keep a level head as he considered the situation, which still hadn’t changed.
She’s a spryte, and it is possible that she might still be lying. I can’t trust her.
He knew that it was true, but his suspicion didn’t stop him from feeling slightly awed by her presence. She was gorgeous and smart, and he’d just had amazing sex with her. And yet, she was a spryte.
They were generally considered to be a step up from demons, less violent, usually with more benign powers, though still unpredictable and wild. Sprytes generally had skin of an uncommon color, ranging the full color spectrum, but none of the physical differences to the face and head common to demons.
Malcolm wondered if perhaps the differences were more pronounced than he’d originally assumed. The Champion Authority had never made much of a distinction between the two forms of monsters, and up until that moment, neither had he.
“Do you know other sprytes?” asked Malcolm, suddenly curious. “Or other… demons?”
Rose considered for a moment, and then gave a slow nod.
“I’m familiar with a few, yes,” she said. “At least, I think? It’s a little fuzzy, but I get the sense that there are more in the area than just me.”
Malcolm felt a small surge of hope, tinted by the anger he’d been holding onto for so long.
“Can you try to remember?” he asked. “Do you know anything about one with fire based powers? Or possibly explosion abilities? Something that could completely level a house, and just leave a… smoking crater.”
Rose tapped a finger against her lips, and then shook her head.
“I could help you, Malcolm,” she said. “But I also need your help.”
“My help?”
“I can’t travel effectively during the day,” said Rose. “When I lost myself to my powers and became a spryte, well, you can see what happened to my skin, and my eyes. It’s very hard to cover myself up enough to pass as a normal human, and I can’t use my powers very well when exposed to strong light sources.”
“Is that what happened tonight?” asked Malcolm.
“It’s… hard to remember,” she said. “When it’s been a while since I’ve engaged in my focus activity, I start to lose track of who I am. My point is… I could really use a place to stay. Just for a few days, while I regain my strength.”
She wants me to hide her here. That’s just about the worst idea I’ve ever heard.
“Rose…” Malcolm chewed his lip and started to shake his head. “It wouldn’t be safe for you here. I might have to bring other champions over, or they might stop by. I just can’t do it.”
“This demon that you’re after,” said Rose. “How do you expect to find them without help?”
“I’m a member of the Champion Authority,” said Malcolm. “I’m sure they could give me some information.”
“Maybe,” said Rose. “But maybe not.”
She looked at him. Malcolm could see the hope dying in her eyes, and suddenly knew that she wasn’t lying to him about at least one thing. She was just as desperate as she claimed to be. He felt a sudden surge of empathy, and knew that he couldn’t just force her out into the cold.
“…Alright,” he said. “I guess you can stay with me. But just for a few days, like you said.”
Rose smiled at him and walked in closer. She leaned in, and for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him again.
“Thanks,” she said. “I was worried that you were going to make me do the walk of shame.”
Malcolm chuckled. He looked at her, surprised at how much more relaxed she seemed now that he’d agreed to let her stay.
“So how will you help me find the demon that I’m looking for?” he asked. “Can we start tonight?”
Rose frowned and shook her head.
“I’m too weak to start tonight,” she said. Malcolm raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t… seem weak,” he said.
“Up against you?” She smiled. “No. But up against another spryte or demon? I don’t think I’d stand a chance at some of the more dangerous ones that could be lurking out there, not right now. I’ll need some time to rest and recuperate.”
She gave him an odd look, a little embarrassed, perhaps a little eager.
“Alright…” he said. “So, I guess it’s probably better if you take my bed tonight. It would be hard for me to block the light from the windows in the living room.”
“Why don’t we both take the bed?” asked Rose. She sat down on it, patted the spot next to her, and crossed her legs.
“I… don’t think that would be a good idea,” said Malcolm.
Rose stretched out on the bed, rolling onto her stomach and pushing her butt up into the air slightly.
“Think about how much fun it would be,” she whispered. “I sleep naked, you know.”
Malcolm felt himself immediately start to get excited, even though it had only been a few minutes since their last round. He tried to ignore it.
“That was a onetime thing,” he said, forcing the words out. “We can’t be involved like that. It’s just not good for either of us.”
Rose rolled over onto her back and slowly slid her hands across the fabric of her pants, and then her shirt. She clasped her hands and pulled her arms together, framing her breasts and making them look even bigger than they already were.
“As you wish,” she said. “Malcolm.”
She said his name as though it was an erotic promise, slowly rolling it off her tongue and past her lips. She stared at him, her eyes hungry and full of sexual power. Malcolm felt himself being drawn in and knew that he needed to get out of the room if he wanted to keep any semblance up of having control over himself.
“Well then… good night.” He cleared his throat and stepped back through the door, holding the door knob and getting one last good look at her.
“Sweet dreams,” whispered Rose.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it.
I’ve just made possibly the biggest mistake of my life.
CHAPTER 12
Malcolm was awake for most of the night. He kept expecting something to happen, be it Rose bursting out of his bedroom and attacking him after all, or sliding out naked, and pushing through his resistance for another hot, steamy encounter.
Nothing happened. Malcolm paced his living room. He had a midnight snack. He played video games for a little while, keeping the sound mostly muted.
He finally got to sleep sometime in the grey area between late night and early morning. It felt like he’d only had his eyes closed for a couple of minutes when a loud knock drew him back awake.
“Wake up.” His front door opened, and Tapestry stepped into his apartment. “Your training starts early. We’ve got a lot to cover.”
She was wearing a grey tunic style sweater over a tight pair of jeans, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She frowned when she saw him lying on the couch, and Malcolm had to think through the haze of early morning grogginess to realize why.
“You’re sleeping on the couch,” she said, flatly. “Is there any particular reason why that is?”
Malcolm groaned. One of the video game controllers was still out on the floor, and he gestured to it.
“Late night session,” he said. “Gotta keep my gaming skills up.”
“Your… gaming skills?” The look Tapestry gave him was one of amused disbelief. Malcolm grimaced, feeling like a man child.
“Hey, don’t hate the player, hate the game,” he said. “I just have to grab a change of clothes and then we can get…”
He trailed off as he looked up at Tapestry. Rose was standing directly behind her, smiling coyly and wearing only a sheet. She pointed a finger at Tapestry and mouthed the words “Is she a champion?”
Tapestry saw Malcolm’s expression and glanced over her shoulder. Rose was gone in an instant, vanishing completely into the shadows and reappearing across the room, in the darkness of the corner, still wrapped in the sheet.
“What?” asked Tapestry. “What is it?”
Malcolm shook his head slowly.
“Uh… nothing,” he said.
Rose reappeared behind Tapestry again, flaunting her ability to sink into the shadows and give herself practical invisibility. Malcolm felt his tension skyrocket, but he couldn’t even gesture for her to stop without risking giving himself away. Tapestry was looking around the apartment, with Rose silently trailing her, like a mischievous child holding up bunny ears behind someone’s head for a photo.
“Your apartment is so small,” said Tapestry. “You should consider buying a house, instead. It’s a better use of your money.”
“Yeah, uh, totally,” said Malcolm. “That sounds reasonable for a millennial without a college degree.”
Tapestry shot him a look. Malcolm barely even noticed. He hesitated before heading into his room to change, his heart pounding at how close he was to getting caught.
As soon as he had on a new shirt and jeans, he hurried back out into the living room. Tapestry was looking out the window, and Rose was leaning on the couch behind her. The sun peaked out over the clouds on the horizon, and Malcolm saw firsthand just how much it affected her.
Rose’s cloak of shadows went from rendering her nearly invisible to being nonexistent. She blinked, and a flash of annoyance and fear passed across her face. Tapestry started to turn around, and Rose wasn’t close enough to anything she could hide behind.
“At least I get a good view!” said Malcolm, stepping up beside Tapestry and throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Right?”
Tapestry didn’t look amused.
“Malcolm,” she said. “Are you hitting on me?”
“Uh…?”
That’s a good question.
He let his arm drop, and held up his hands innocently.
“Sorry,” he said. “Sometimes I get a little frisky. I think it has something to do with my diet.”
“I’m your mentor,” she said. “Try to keep things professional, Wind Runner.”
Malcolm spotted Rose as she slipped back into the safety of his room and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Speaking of which…” he said. “We should probably get going.”
“Hold on, let me get a look at your bedroom, first,” said Tapestry.
Malcolm cleared his throat.
“Tapestry,” he said. “Are you hitting on me?”
She looked mock offended, and punched him gently in the shoulder.
“You are such a brat,” she said. “Never mind. It’s probably disgusting, anyway.”
She turned to leave his apartment. Malcolm glanced back at the door of his room one last time and then followed her.
Tapestry had parked the BMW on the street outside, but she didn’t head for it. Malcolm fell into step beside her, raising a curious eyebrow.
“No car today?” he asked.
“We’re not going far,” said Tapestry. “We just need a calm place where we can sit and talk.”
She led him into the park across the street from Malcolm’s apartment. It was the same park that had collected a half dozen overdoses in the past year, and regularly had to be raked by someone from the city for discarded needles.
This is her idea of a calm place?
“There’s one aspect to being a champion that we didn’t get a chance to explain to you yesterday,” said Tapestry.
“Really?”
“It’s nothing intentional, we just didn’t have time to get to it immediately,” she said. “There are more pressing concerns to be addressed when giving an orientation to someone who has just discovered their gift.”
Tapestry led him toward the pond that filled the center of the park, sitting down on one of the benches around its edge. Malcolm sat down next to her, waiting for her to continue.
She didn’t, at least not immediately. Instead, Tapestry reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a surprisingly large bag of bread crumbs. There was a small family of ducks swimming in the pond, and she began to toss crumbs to them, leading them over to the edge of the water.
“Nice,” said Malcolm. “Fun way to spend a morning.”
She smiled at him.
“An old, guilty pleasure of mine,” she said. “Anyway, what we need to spend to day discovering is what your focus activity is.”
Focus activity. Rose mentioned something about that, too.
“A focus activity,” Tapestry went on, “is a basic element of being gifted. Your powers are not magic. You have to recharge yourself, in a sense, after using them extensively.”
Malcolm frowned.
“I haven’t done anything like that so far,” he said. “And I still feel like I can use mine.”
“Rest and sleep work to recharge your powers as well,” said Tapestry. “But only up to a certain point. To reach peak efficiency, you need to find and partake in your focus activity.”
One of the ducklings walked right over to Tapestry’s foot, staring up at her with wide eyes. She smiled and dropped a small crumb on its beak, which it scrambled to scarf down.
“So how do we go about this?” asked Malcolm. “I can’t even guess at what my focus activity would be.”
“Simple,” she said. “Remember what you were doing at the time when you got your powers. It’s usually related to whatever you were in the middle of in an obvious way.”
“Let me guess…” said Malcolm. “Your focus activity is feeding the ducks.”
“Baking, actually,” said Tapestry. “Walk me through the moment you discovered your gift, Malcolm.”
“Okay…” He thought back to the previous day, running over the sequence of events. “I was in class, answering the teacher’s question. Oh god, I hope it doesn’t turn out to be going to school, or studying.”
Malcolm hadn’t given much thought to what was going to happen with his college classes, now that he was a champion. He supposed he’d have to call and withdraw from them within the next few days, but if he needed to sit in a classroom to recharge his powers, he might not have the option to drop out.
“Stay focused, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “What else? There must have been something more than just that.”
“Wait…” Malcolm considered for a moment. “I was listening to music.”
Tapestry gave him a funny look.
“You were listening to music,” she said. “Like, at the end of class?”
“While the teacher was lecturing,” he said. “If you knew what her voice sounded like, you’d understand.”
Tapestry blinked several times in quick succession, her mouth quirking down into a frown. Malcolm grinned at her intensity.
“Hey, I was still one of the better students,” he said. “But… do you think that might be it?”
Tapestry gave a shrug.
“Usually it’s a certain kind, or genre, of music,” she said. “No other champions with music as their focus activity can just listen to any song and recharge.”
“90s alt rock,” confirmed Malcolm. “Here, I have some on my phone.”
He pulled it out and queued up a song. It started playing through his phone’s speaker, and he watched the ducks turn their attention toward the new disturbance.
“Can you feel anything?” asked Tapestry.
Malcolm nodded slowly. It was an odd sensation, almost like being on a drug. His body tingled, and the sense of nostalgia he usually got from listening to the music, his brother Danny’s favorite music, was massively amplified.
“Good,” said Tapestry. “Then that’s it, then. You can turn it off.”
“Okay.” He grinned at her. “Not a fan of Soundgarden?”
Tapestry snorted.
“The music I like comes from another generation,” she said. “It’s fine, though. I don’t mind this. We just have to keep moving with your training.”
She tossed the rest of the bread crumbs to the appreciative ducks, creating a minor feeding frenzy, and wiped her hands on her jeans. Malcolm stood up alongside her, enjoying the morning.
A police car sped down the street alongside the park, lights flashing and sirens whirring. Tapestry frowned at it, and then pulled her phone out of her pocket and scanned the screen.
“School shooting,” she said. “Training will have to wait.”
CHAPTER 13
Malcolm held onto the inside handle of the BMW’s passenger door for dear life. Tapestry sped down the street, apparently having anointed herself with the same driving privileges as the police.
“Isn’t this something that the police would usually handle?” asked Malcolm. “Or maybe SWAT? Along with a charismatic, empathetic negotiator?”
“They asked for our help specifically,” said Tapestry. “And besides, it’s at Holy Cross High.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“I went to West Vanderbrook High,” he said. “Not to sound callous, but the name doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“It does to me,” said Tapestry. “Someone I care about goes to school there.”
She pulled into the school’s parking lot, driving the BMW up to the drop off lane. The police had already set up their perimeter. They seemed to recognize Tapestry on sight, which Malcolm found a little odd, given how low her profile as a champion otherwise was.
“Captain,” she said, nodding to the policeman in charge. “I’m going to head in. This is Wind Runner, my new apprentice.”
Apprentice? Seriously?
“He’s on the second floor in the east wing,” said the police chief. “We’ve pulled all of our people out and evacuated most of the students, but everyone in a classroom connected to that hallway is trapped.”
“We’ll take care of it,” said Tapestry. “Just keep your men out of the way.”
Malcolm was impressed by her confidence. She started running toward the school’s entrance, crouching and moving fast. Malcolm followed her example, slipping through one of the doors behind her.
The inside of the school was empty. Light streamed in through the windows behind them, giving the rows of unattended lockers a Sunday morning ambience. Tapestry slowed her pace forward, taking swift, silent steps as she headed for the staircase.
“What’s our plan going to be?” whispered Malcolm, as they approached the staircase.
“I attack,” she replied, quietly. “You evacuate. Use your powers to get people safely down to the ground.”
“Wait, why do you get to attack?”
The look Tapestry gave him was more than a little condescending.
“Because I know what I’m doing,” she whispered. “And because if I get shot, I won’t die. Regeneration is my power, Malcolm.”
He couldn’t argue with that logic, and there was no time. Malcolm nodded and followed close behind her as they slipped the stairs. Tapestry pressed herself tight against the corner when they reached the top, peering to get a sense of the scene. Malcolm lowered himself to a crouch and did the same from a lower angle, doing his best not to sneak a peek at her butt.
The shooter was at the end of the hallway, pacing back and forth and paying less than optimal attention to his surroundings. He looked like a student, except he held two pistols, and was muttering to himself. Malcolm felt his heart pounding as he considered the situation of the students still trapped in the wing.
“Ready?” mouthed Tapestry.
Malcolm nodded.
Tapestry headed out first, holding her hands up in the air and making herself into a target. She walked toward the shooter slowly, letting the boy focus his attention on her before talking to him in a soft voice.
“Hey, it’s okay,” said Tapestry. “Let’s just talk. I know you’re angry, and confused…”
Malcolm didn’t waste any time. He used the wind to propel himself down to the opposite end of the hallway, checking each room for trapped students as he went. Most of them were already empty. One of them had a small, red pool of blood on the center of the floor, but there was no body in sight.
He moved to the next classroom, and then the next after that, slowly approaching Tapestry and the shooter. He couldn’t hear what she was saying to him, but the boy hadn’t opened fire, which was a good sign.
Malcolm found a classroom full of older students three doors down from the danger at the end of the hallway. The door was barricaded, and they were all hiding underneath desks, shielding themselves with books. Malcolm tapped on the door urgently. They just stared at him.
Of course. They don’t know who the shooter is. I need to convince them that they can trust me.
He waved through the vertical window alongside the door, and then used his wind manipulation to make his clothes flutter while miming running in place. Most of the students looked he was crazy, but one of them picked up on his meaning and explained it to the rest. Malcolm waited, feeling impatient and more than a little stressed out as they got the door open.
He slid into the classroom and shut the door firmly behind him. The students, along with their teacher, a chubby woman with red hair, looked at him expectantly.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said. “You’re going out the window. Don’t worry, I can make it so that your fall is cushioned by the wind.
At least, I think I can. This will be the test case.
“Class!” said the teacher, in a high-pitched voice. “Just… follow along with what the champion is saying. Evacuating is the best thing we can do at the moment.”
Malcolm heard the shooter shout something out in the hallway. He frowned, trying to push his concern for Tapestry to the side so that he could focus on the rescue.
The window had a screen behind it that was attached firmly to the window frame. Malcolm knocked through both the glass and the screen with a concentrated blast of wind.
“Anybody interested in going first?” he asked.
None of the students said anything. Malcolm pointed to one at random.
“You’re up,” he said.
It wasn’t as hard as he’d expected it to be. Each of the students climbed halfway out the window, and then Malcolm gave them the signal to jump and created a cushion of wind to slow their fall before they hit the ground. A few, too afraid to let go, had to be pushed out the window.
“You’re Wind Runner?” One of the girls, a short brunette with freckles, stepped in close to Malcolm. “I saw you, yesterday. On the TV. And on Instagram. And on Twitter… Your name is a hashtag now that people use whenever someone does something outrageous and gets away with it. I think it’s appropriate. It just seems to fit you really well. Wind Runner. Did you pick it, or-”
“Hey,” said Malcolm. “No offense, but I’m trying to focus.”
He had to push another student out the window, and this one let out an almost comical cry as he fell to the ground, the wind slowing his fall to almost a standstill for the last few feet.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you,” said the girl. “My name’s Melanie. I talk a lot. Especially when I’m nervous. You didn’t go to school here, did you? I’d recognize you if you did. You’re only like, what, 19? 20? That’s pretty young for a champion. Though I guess it really doesn’t matter what age you-”
“Hey, Melanie?” said Malcolm. “Shut up!”
She did, for a couple of seconds. Malcolm tried to pull her over to the window to push her out next, but the teacher stepped up before he could.
“I’m sorry,” said Melanie. “Really, I am. I don’t mean to talk so much. It’s like sometimes when I’m nervous I start talking, and just keep going, and going. I’m on the debate team. It’s my main hobby, though some of the football players told me I’m cute enough to be a cheerleader. That’s kind of a weird thing to tell someone, I think, and I don’t really know if it’s true. Plus-”
Gunshots came from the hallway. Malcolm still had a half dozen students left, including Melanie. He felt a flash of panic as he considered what would happen if the shooter made it into the classroom while he was in the middle of helping a student to the ground.
No choice. I have to go out there.
“Barricade the door as soon as I leave!” he shouted. Melanie gave him an army salute. Her eyes were wet with tears, and Malcolm suddenly felt a little bad for not noticing earlier.
CHAPTER 14
Tapestry was laying on the hallway’s tile floor, clutching her stomach, a pool of blood spreading out underneath her body. The shooter was standing over her with menacing body language, the gun dark and metallic in his hand. Malcolm was just down the hall from them, pressed into a door well, trying to make himself into as small a target as he could.
“Tapestry!” Malcolm shouted. “Are you okay?”
The shooter answered the question with several gunshots in his direction. Malcolm gritted his teeth, trying to ignore both his concern for Tapestry and the ringing in his ears.
She said that she can regenerate. I have to trust that she knows what she’s doing…
Malcolm leaned out, feeling his fear surge as he exposed his head as a target. The shooter was fumbling around, trying to slip one gun into his pocket so he could reload the other. Malcolm thrust his hand out, summoning the wind. Before he could pull up more than a breeze, the shooter aimed and fired, proving that he still had at least one bullet left.
“Hey! Hey!” shouted Malcolm. “Let’s just talk about this. Come on, man… This isn’t a good road to go down!”
He tried to think of what he could possibly say to make the shooter back down. The kid had already committed to what he was doing, already opened fire on his classmates. There was no coming back from that, at least not from the perspective of a teenager.
“They deserved it!” shouted the shooter. “You don’t know what it was like.”
Malcolm took a slow breath, feeling his heart pounding painfully hard in his chest.
“I don’t know,” said Malcolm. “I can’t say that I know what you’ve been through. But they can’t all deserve it, surely? Think about that for a second.”
The shooter didn’t answer him. Malcolm took a breath, and then continued.
“That’s my friend you have on the ground,” said Malcolm. “She’s going to die. She’s going to bleed to death. She doesn’t go to your school. She never did anything to you.”
He doesn’t know about her regeneration. Maybe I can appeal to his emotions.
“She’d tried to attack me,” said the shooter. “And if she’s your friend, then I can’t trust you either!”
“You can trust me!” said Malcolm.
“Then come out here,” said the shooter. “Come out where I can see you. And then I’ll talk to you more.”
“I can talk to you from where I am,” said Malcolm.
“Come out here or I’ll shoot your friend in the head,” said the shooter.
Malcolm swore under his breath. He didn’t know if Tapestry could recover from a headshot or not, and wasn’t interested in having to find out. She was silent, probably unconscious, and that wasn’t a good sign, either.
“Alright,” said Malcolm. “I’m… coming out.”
This could be it. Well, I’ve lived a good, albeit short, life.
He stepped out into the hallway. The shooter had both his guns back in hand. He wasn’t wearing a mask, or any kind of disguise. He had brown hair and darker brown eyes. He was crying, too, just like Melanie had been.
“You’re the guy from yesterday,” said the shooter. “Wind Runner. I saw all that shit.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” said Malcolm. “Look… I was just like you. I wasn’t any different. I just got lucky.”
“That’s what makes you different,” said the shooter. “Some people get lucky. Some people don’t. Some people end up being monsters in the end.”
“You aren’t a monster,” said Malcolm. He wasn’t sure if he believed it.
“They treated me like I was one, first,” said the shooter. “You treat someone like something for long enough and that’s all they know how to be.”
“Hey, easy,” said Malcolm. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Sorry.”
The shooter raised his gun and aimed it at Malcolm’s head. He watched as the shooter pulled the trigger, and reacted without thinking.
Summoning the wind, Malcolm sent it forward in a thin, powerfully directed burst. He kept his focus on the gun, and on the bullets that were on the way out of it. He flinched as the first one exploded out, but held his focus.
Using the force of his wind manipulation, Malcolm was able to divert the bullet off its course by a couple of inches. If he’d been closer to his target, or reacted more slowly, it wouldn’t have worked. As it was, he felt the air tearing within an inch of his head. His heart skipped a beat. The shooter pulled the trigger again, and a second bullet blasted toward him.
Malcolm felt hot lead scrape across his cheek, tearing a thin, shallow cut into the flesh there. He threw his other hand forward in anger, slamming all the wind power he could summon into the shooter’s chest. The boy flew back against the lockers against the end of the hallway, striking with a hollow crash and dropping his guns.
Malcolm swept them out of the shooter’s reach immediately, and then banged the kid off the ground a second time, for good measure. His head hit hard enough to knock him unconscious, and it was hard for Malcolm to care about any potential damage.
Was this guy a monster? Or was he just a bullied kid with some guns and no sense?
Tapestry let out a groan. Malcolm hurried over to her, setting a hand on the wound on her stomach. It wasn’t there anymore. In the time since she’d been shot, she’d already started to heal.
A strange, tingling sensation spread through Malcolm’s hand and into the rest of his body, almost like he’d just touched a live wire. He frowned, feeling the pain from the cut on his cheek vanish. He reached up and slid a finger over it. There was still blood there, but no more was coming out.
“Good work… Wind Runner,” said Tapestry.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Bullets went through me,” she said. “It’s only a pain when they get stuck against a bone. Have to have surgery every now and then to get them all removed after that happens too much.”
She cleared her throat and stood up. The shooter had obviously unloaded on her, because her shirt was in shambles. As was her bra, underneath, leaving the edge of one of her nipples poking out through the bullet holes. Malcolm chuckled and took off his sweatshirt, passing it to her.
“You should put that on,” he said.
Tapestry looked confused, until she looked down and saw what he saw. She blushed, and then glared at him like it was his fault. Malcolm grinned back at her.
CHAPTER 15
Three students suffered critical injuries, but in the end, nobody died. It was a miracle, from Malcolm’s point of view. He stood next to Tapestry as she discussed the situation with the police, impressed by how professional she was when giving them the rundown of what had happened.
More emergency vehicles, police cars, and ambulances crowded the parking lot than Malcolm had known existed in Vanderbrook. The school had taken a complete count of all the students after the shooter had been taken into custody, slowly releasing them to their parents and legal guardians as they arrived on scene. The reunions were tearful, and watching them made Malcolm aware of how important of a role he and Tapestry had played.
Without us, it wouldn’t have just ended there.
Tapestry spent close to an hour speaking with the police. As soon as the conversation was finished, Malcolm heard footsteps headed their way. He flinched, still tense and high strung, but it was just Melanie, the talkative girl from earlier. She ran up to Tapestry and threw her arms around her.
“I was so worried!” cried Melanie. “Just let the police handle it next time! It’s their job! It’s what they do! They have body armor, and guns, and negotiators, and riot shields, and, and…”
“And I can regenerate from any injury,” said Tapestry. “I think I have them beat.”
Melanie laughed and gave her another squeeze. Malcolm raised an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between them. He remembered what Tapestry had said about how someone she cared about went to the school.
“Are you two sisters, or something?” he asked.
Both girls looked at each other, hesitant and awkward.
“Something like that,” said Tapestry. “Malcolm, this is Melanie. Melanie, this is Malcolm, or as he’s known in the press, Wind Runner.”
“I met him already upstairs.” Melanie smiled, which made her face seem even more freckled. “It’s so nice to meet you officially, Malcolm. I guess you’ll be Aubrey’s partner from now on, huh? You better keep her safe. She takes way too many risks. I’ve told her so many times before to be more careful!”
“Aubrey?” Malcolm glanced at Tapestry. “That’s your… real name?”
Tapestry gave a small nod. He’d never asked her before what her real name was and she’d never offered him it. Malcolm wondered if it was because of how overwhelmed he’d been with his own changes, or perhaps to a bit of secrecy on Tapestry’s part.
“Keep calling me Tapestry,” she said. “I like to keep my work separate from my home life, when I can.”
Malcolm shrugged. Tapestry was looking at his face, and after a second, she reached out and touched the scratch from the bullet.
“You’re wounded,” she said. “You should get someone to take a look at that.”
“It’s fine,” he said.
It’s more than just fine. It’s just a scab, now. Injuries aren’t supposed to heal that fast normally.
“Well, at least wash it when you get a chance,” said Tapestry. “Even a small cut can lead to a bad infection, and you wouldn’t want something like that scarring badly.”
Malcolm nodded. Melanie was still at Tapestry’s side, practically clinging to her sister.
“So, is that a wrap for today?” he asked. “It might be hard for us to focus back on training after this.”
Tapestry started to answer, but Melanie spoke before she could.
“I really don’t want to be home alone, Aubrey,” she said. “Please… Can you stay with me? I’m still so overwhelmed. I feel like I might have a panic attack if I don’t have somebody around to talk to. Please? Just for today? And then you can-”
“Fine,” said Tapestry, with a sigh. “You’re kind of needy sometimes, you know that?”
The two girls smiled at each other. Malcolm walked with them back to the car, taking the front seat at Melanie’s insistence. Ten minutes later, he was back outside his apartment.
“Same time tomorrow morning,” said Tapestry. “I’m going to have to speak to Multi about how we handle the aftermath of what happened today. You might have to make a media appearance or two.”
Malcolm frowned and furrowed his brow.
“Why me?” he said. “We both saved the day.”
“The attention you already brought onto yourself yesterday is only going to snowball after this,” said Tapestry. “And besides, Multi has already explained to the local press that I don’t like to be in the public eye like that.”
Malcolm felt a little annoyed, and a little like he was being thrown under the bus.
“Come on,” he said. “That’s not exactly fair. I just became a champion yesterday.”
“We’ll talk more about it tomorrow morning,” said Tapestry. “Just be ready. And wear something nice.”
“Bye, Malcolm!” called Melanie.
Tapestry drove off before he could get another word in. Malcolm rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs into his apartment.
He wasn’t sure what to expect once he got inside. It looked just as it had when he’d left, except for a few pieces of food missing from the fridge.
So, she does need to eat. Well, that’s good to know.
Malcolm opened the door to his room slowly. Rose was sleeping naked in his bed. The curtains were drawn, and her breathing was steady and rhythmic. She looked beautiful, and strangely vulnerable, so unlike the dark, seductive spryte who’d he’d fought and fooled around with the night before.
He left her like that, deciding that she probably needed the sleep. Malcolm made himself some food and sat down on his couch. He booted up his Playstation and spent the next few hours playing video games, relishing the opportunity to relax and get his mind off his life.
CHAPTER 16
It was late afternoon when the door to his room finally opened. Malcolm glanced up and saw Rose in the doorway, wearing one of his shirts. It was baggy on her, and hung down just past her butt, revealing her long, flawless, purple hued thighs. Her hair was loose across her shoulders, and seemed imbued with the shadows that her powers let her manipulate.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” said Malcolm.
The smile on her face was mischievous, and she walked toward him slowly, her hips swaying with each step. Malcolm was still playing his game, in the middle of a soccer match against an online opponent.
“Oh, don’t mind me,” said Rose. “I’m just the girl who’s been sleeping naked in your bed all day. Who is now wearing your t-shirt, and nothing else.”
Malcolm grinned at her.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d have the Champion Authority after you right now. Tapestry came within a glance of seeing you this morning.”
“Maybe you deserve a reward for that?” said Rose.
She slid her hand up Malcolm’s thigh. He resisted the urge to quit the match and focus his attention on her, instead waiting to see what would happen if he just let the tension build.
Rose let her palm play across his jeans, drawing closer and closer to his crotch. Malcolm was hard after only a couple of seconds of it, and when her fingers finally began to trace the outline of his erection, he almost gasped with pleasure.
Rose brought her mouth in close to his neck, letting her hot breath tickle the sensitive skin there. She let her lips graze his earlobe, and a shiver of pleasure went through Malcolm’s body.
‘I think you definitely deserve a reward,” said Rose. “And I think I might just know how to give you one.”
Malcolm didn’t react, though it was a struggle to keep himself from grinning. Rose’s fingers carefully unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans. He lifted his hips up so that she could slide them down, still trying to keep his attention on the game.
If I seem like I’m enjoying it too much, she’ll probably start trying to use sex to control me.
“You can’t ignore me forever, Malcolm,” whispered Rose. He still had his boxers on, and she leaned her face into the bulge poking against the fabric. She let her cheeks and mouth rub against his hardness, and even with a layer of cloth in the way, he could feel the heat and softness of her beautiful face.
“Maybe…” she whispered. “If I take it a little further?”
She carefully pulled his boxers down, and his erection popped out, ready and eager even as Malcolm continued to act nonchalant. Rose tapped the tip of it with a finger, shifting onto her knees in front of where he was sitting on the couch.
Malcolm tried to stay focused on the game, less because he really wanted to, and more just to make a stubborn point. Rose let her fingers play across his shaft, taking it in both hands and holding it gingerly, like a gun that could go off at any second.
“Do you want to know what my mouth feels like, Malcolm?” whispered Rose.
He nodded his head before he could stop himself. Rose gave the length of his shaft an exploratory lick, and then slid it into her mouth.
She let out a soft, pleased moan at the exact same time that Malcolm did. She slowly bobbed her head up and down, sucking him off with gentle movements. Malcolm set the controller aside, unable to focus on the game for a second longer. He ran a hand through Rose’s dark hair and watched her lewd mouth work its magic.
It felt incredible. The pleasure was a little scary in the way it pushed all other thoughts out of his mind. It was just him and Rose, and her luscious lips, hot mouth, and wet tongue. She looked up and made eye contact with him on and off, her expression flickering with delight at the effect she was having on him.
God, it feels so fucking good.
She brought his erection in deeper and deeper, until Malcolm could feel himself probing into even tighter territory. Her eyes closed, and her lips tightened, her tongue pushing up against the base of his shaft. It felt incredible, and all Malcolm could do was lean his head back, gently rubbing her head in encouragement.
Rose licked and sucked with such skill that it was pointless for him to try to hold out for very long. The pleasure was like a flood building against an old dam. Malcolm’s breathing accelerated. His hands tightened through locks of her hair. He forgot to warn her as he passed over his limit. She didn’t seem to care.
“Oh, Rose,” he moaned. His seed blasted out into her mouth, hot and sticky. Rose gracefully sucked it down, rubbing his thigh as though encouraging him to give her everything he had to offer.
He practically melted into the couch, overwhelmed by the pleasure. Rose stopped sucking midway through his orgasm and cleared her throat.
“I think you lost that round,” she said.
“What?”
She smiled wickedly at him and nodded to TV, which was showing the postgame stats. He’d gotten absolutely creamed.
The two of them shared the couch for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other’s company without needing to say anything. Rose was looking closely at his face, and she reached out to gently touch the cut on his cheek.
“What happened there?” she asked, keeping her hand against his face.
“Bullet scratch,” said Malcolm. “Tapestry and I had to stop a shooting at a high school earlier today. We managed to keep anyone from getting killed, but-”
“That’s not what I mean,” said Rose. “It looks like it’s healed already. That doesn’t make sense if it happened earlier today.”
Malcolm shrugged, not really knowing what to say. Rose’s dark eyes were considering him carefully.
“Do you think it’s related to my powers?” he asked.
Rose gave a small shrug.
“It might be,” she said. “Champions sometimes develop multiple powers. It’s rare, but not uncommon. Though, if you were a regenerator, I think you would have noticed signs of it earlier.”
“Tapestry is a regenerator,” said Malcolm.
“Hmm…” Rose licked her lips, frowning slightly. “Did you touch her while she was using her powers?”
A chill ran up the hairs on the back of Malcolm’s neck.
“I think so,” he said. “Yeah, right after I knocked out the shooter.”
It tingled, almost like a static shock, but… weirder. And that was when I first noticed my cheek healing up.
“Here.” Rose stood up from the couch and walked back into Malcolm’s room, where the curtains kept it mostly dark. “Let’s try something.”
She held out her hand to him. She was still only wearing his t-shirt, and there was something strangely intimate about setting his palm on top of hers. Rose wiggled the fingers of her other hand, summoning several shadow tendrils around her. Malcolm felt a tingling sensation a bit like touching a live electrical current. At the same time, his cheek started hurting again.
“Huh,” he said. “Did you just… give me your power?”
“It’s called power mimicry,” said Rose. “Apparently, you have it as a secondary ability. You can copy the power of someone else and use it for yourself. Probably not at the full strength of the original user, but it’s still an incredibly useful ability to have.”
“Cool,” said Malcolm.
“You should try to keep that secret from the Champion Authority,” said Rose. “Power mimicry is what they call an uncontrolled power.”
“Uncontrolled power?” asked Malcolm. “What does that mean?”
“It’s kind of an arbitrary label,” said Rose. “What it really means is that if they find out you have it, they’ll… take action. Possibly imprison you in one of their quarantine zones. You should probably start wearing gloves.”
Malcolm stared at her in surprise. He was about to ask her for details when another question came to mind that he was even more curious about.
“How do you know all this stuff, while not being able to remember who you were and how you became a spryte?”
It was the wrong question to ask. Rose blinked a couple of times. She opened her mouth, and then shut it. A sad smile spread across her lips.
“I think it’s just part of being a spryte,” she said, quietly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” said Malcolm.
“No, it’s okay,” said Rose. “It’s a good question. It really is.”
Malcolm walked over to her. He wanted to pull her into a hug, but something about it seemed to presumptive. They could fool around, have sex, and enjoy each other’s company, but there was another level of intimacy that still seemed off limits. He took her hands instead, holding them in his and squeezing.
“I’m fine,” she said. “And you’ve helped me, Malcolm. I don’t know if you realize how much. The more time I spend on my focus activity, the more I can remember, and the more control I have.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow.
“What’s your focus activity?” he asked.
Rose blushed, which looked ridiculously cute, given her skin tone.
“Sex,” she said. “I thought you’d figured that out?”
Oh. Right. That makes sense.
Again, he found himself not knowing quite what to say.
“What’s yours?” asked Rose.
Malcolm grinned at her.
“Listening to 90s rock music,” he said.
Rose made a valiant attempt at holding her laughter in before it became too much for her. She pulled away from him, almost doubling over in laughter.
“Hey!” said Malcolm. “There are plenty of great hits from that era! Some of the best music ever made!”
CHAPTER 17
Rose was still laughing when the knock came at the door. It was a heavy, deliberate knock, and it reminded Malcolm of some of the high school parties he’d been to that had been raided by the police. He frowned, noticing how it immediately put Rose on edge.
Malcolm slowly moved over to the door, staying totally silent as he looked through the peephole. Two men stood outside, both carrying themselves with deliberate, confident posture. They waited for a couple of seconds, and then one of them knocked again, calling out as he did.
“Malcolm Caldwell. Wind Runner. We’re field agents with the Champion Authority. We need to speak with you.”
Malcolm resisted the urge to swear under his breath. He glanced over his shoulder at Rose. She was slowly shaking her head, her eyes wide with fear. It was infectious, and Malcolm felt his palms go clammy.
“Please…” mouthed Rose. “No…”
The sun hadn’t yet fully set over the horizon. Malcolm doubted that Rose could hide from them in his bedroom for very long, especially if one or both had flashlights to search with. Her powers couldn’t save her.
“What can I do?” whispered Malcolm.
“Just stall them, if you can. If we can make it until dark, I can escape.”
Malcolm nodded slowly. He turned to look back out the peephole, wondering if he could just hide behind the locked door and take the most obvious approach forward. He blinked, surprised to see that there was only one man on the other side of it now.
Something wet slid over Malcolm’s socked foot. He jumped back. The sensation almost reminded him of one of Rose’s shadow tendrils, but she was already through the door and in his bedroom.
He stared down, watching in disbelief as a pool of gelatinous, red goop entered his apartment through the doorway. Malcolm acted, rather than thinking. He pulled the door open, hopped back a few feet, and then let loose with the full brunt of his wind manipulation.
The goop seemed to try to hold where it was for a moment before pulling loose from the floor and splattering across the chest and face of the remaining agent. Malcolm waited until the last few globs were in the hallway before reaching for the door and slamming it closed.
Or at least, that was what he had intended to do. A tree branch was blocking the way, holding it open in the same manner someone might use their foot.
“Don’t,” said one of the champions. “He’ll just slip under your doorway again. And again. We’re just here to talk, Malcolm.”
Damn it. I need to think of something else, and fast.
Malcolm reluctantly shrugged his shoulders and opened the door wide enough for the champions to pass through.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was just a little… unnerved by your friend.”
Behind the first champion, the pool of red jello was condensing into the shape of a man, making weird sucking noises as body parts and limbs formed.
“I told him not to,” said the first champion. “Melt’s powers are like something out of a horror movie.”
He was carrying a potted tree under one arm, and wore green khakis and a tan sweater. He reached out his free hand to Malcolm and smiled.
“Greenthumb,” he said.
“Uh… Wind Runner,” said Malcolm.
“Don’t shake his fucking hand,” said the second, still coalescing champion. “He attacked me!”
“Relax, Melt,” said Greenthumb. “He’s been a champion for a day. You should be more aware of how others react to what you can do.”
Melt glared at Malcolm. He looked exactly as he had before he’d transformed into goo, down to the leather jacket and scruffy beard. He was shorter than Greenthumb, but had a peevish intensity about him.
“Now,” said Greenthumb. “May we come in? It would certainly go a long way toward alleviating the tension of this misunderstanding.”
Malcolm nodded.
“Of course,” he said. “Again, sorry. I’ve just been a little on edge, these past few days.”
“I understand completely,” said Greenthumb. “I spent half a week in the forest after I gained my powers. I was convinced that I had been chosen by nature to take the world back from the evils of human civilization. Needless to say, it took a little while for me to achieve productive communication with the Champion Authority.”
Malcolm stepped back, allowing them into the apartment. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his mouth felt dry. Rose had closed the door to his room, but that almost made it more suspicious, rather than less. Malcolm offered the two men the couch, not really having anywhere else to seat them. They chose to remain standing.
“I don’t have much to drink here,” said Malcolm. “Water? I guess?”
He fidgeted nervously.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Melt. “This isn’t a social visit, kid. We’re here for answers.”
“Wind Runner…” said Greenthumb. “We received a report from some of our non-champion informants in the area that someone matching your description foiled a spryte capture last night. Specifically, someone with your powers.”
Malcolm furrowed his brow.
“A spryte capture?” he asked. “I didn’t encounter any champions going after sprytes last night.”
“This wouldn’t have involved champions,” said Greenthumb. “The Champion Authority is understaffed in most regions of the world. Occasionally, we offer bounties to any interested parties in the area for bringing in the less dangerous sprytes. Ones that can be captured without regular people needing to put their lives at risk.”
A chill ran down Malcolm’s spine. He looked back and forth between Greenthumb and Melt. They were both watching and waiting for his answer, but with vastly different expressions. Melt’s eyes were hard and suspicious, while Greenthumb seemed genuinely sympathetic and a little apologetic.
Those men were working for the Champion Authority? That’s… not possible.
“I fought off a gang last night,” said Malcolm. “It didn’t seem like they were involved with anything relating to the Champion Authority, or hunting sprytes. They were getting ready to rape a woman in an abandoned warehouse when I found them.”
A small smile spread across Greenthumb’s lips. Melt stepped forward, jabbing a finger in Malcolm’s face.
“She was a spryte!” he said, almost spitting the words. “You expect us to believe that you didn’t know? That you didn’t see any of the signs?”
Malcolm blinked a couple of times, doing his best to seem like he’d only just then figured out why the field agents were there to speak to him.
“I didn’t get a look at her,” said Malcolm. “It took me a minute to scare the men off. She wasn’t in the warehouse when the fight was over.”
Melt shook his head slowly.
“If that’s the case, then why didn’t you open the door when we first knocked, Wind Runner? Why did you try to keep us from talking to you? We’re here to do our fucking jobs!”
“Melt,” said Greenthumb. “You were the one who went in under his door. I’ve warned you about this before. Most people don’t react cordially to invading red puddles of sentient ooze.”
Malcolm ran a hand through his hair, subtly glancing out the window. The sun was taking its sweet time dropping down over the horizon. He had another ten minutes, at least, before he could count on Rose being able to easily escape.
“Besides,” continued Greenthumb. “We both read through his file on the way here. After what happened to him, and his family… I doubt he has any more sympathy for the monsters than we do.”
Malcolm nodded slowly, for once feeling glad that someone had brought up the explosion and his family’s deaths in conversation. Melt still looked wary, but more open to the possibility of Malcolm being innocent than he had been before.
“Where did you encounter the spryte last?” asked Melt. “The men who brought us the tip were vague about the details.”
“In one of the abandoned warehouses,” said Malcolm. “South of here. There’s four of them in an industrial park. The fight happened in the southwest most one.”
The two field champions nodded.
“Why don’t I head over and check it out?” asked Greenthumb. “Melt, you can stay here with him for the moment. Given his history, I get the sense that he might make a capable field champion, one day.”
Malcolm winced, wishing that both of them would leave to follow up on his tip, or alternatively, that Greenthumb would stay while Melt left. Greenthumb was already heading out the door, however, stopping to whisper something in his partner’s ear as he passed him by.
I can’t let my guard down. Not until after dark.
CHAPTER 18
The door shut, and Malcolm stood facing Melt awkwardly. The other champion was staring at him, unconcerned by how rude it came off.
“You should hold onto that,” said Melt.
Malcolm frowned.
“Hold onto… what?” he asked.
Melt walked by him into the apartment, glancing around at the kitchen, the door leading to the bathroom, and the closed door leading to Malcolm’s bedroom and Rose.
“Your anger,” said Melt. “I saw it in your eyes before, when Ben mentioned your family. Hold onto that as tightly as you fucking can.”
Melt sat down on Malcolm’s couch. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask, opening it and moving to take a sip. He hesitated, and then offered Malcolm the first taste.
Well, might as well try to make friends.
Malcolm accepted the flask and took a small sip. It was gin, and it burned going down. He managed not to cough and passed it back to Melt, who took a long swig and kept it in his hand.
“It’s not always going to be easy,” said Melt. “You’ll see the truth of it, eventually. When you start to encounter more of those things… “
Malcolm nodded slowly.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“Exactly what I said,” snapped Melt. “It’s not always easy. Sometimes it’s hard as fuck. They’re monsters, all of the sprytes and demons… And you always have to keep that in mind.”
Melt took another sip from the flask. Malcolm felt himself getting curious about what the man had to say. He knew that keeping Melt talking was the best way to keep his apartment from getting searched, and if Melt got drunk in the meantime, even better.
“The champions that gave me my orientation here in Vanderbrook spoke about sprytes and demons like they were corrupted,” said Malcolm. “Diseased, even. They made it sound like there wasn’t any real choice for us in the matter.”
“There isn’t,” said Melt. “There’s no choice at all, unless you’re alright with watching a monster murder people.”
He took a slow breath and passed the flask back over to Malcolm, who accepted and took another small sip.
“I had a case once…” said Melt. “A stone spryte. One of the neighbors called it in, explained it to us in vague terms without really saying much. Just said that the girl was staying in a house nearby, and that she was dangerous and needed to be stopped.”
Malcolm didn’t say anything. He listened, waiting for the other man to continue.
“It was way out in the middle of Nebraska,” said Melt. “Small suburban neighborhood. We got to the house, and a guy, a normal person, came out and tried to hold us back, stop us from going in.”
Melt let out a sad laugh and took another sip of gin.
“It was his daughter, the guy says. She’s not evil, just confused and scared, he says. He said he wouldn’t let us take her.”
“What did you do?” asked Malcolm.
“Knocked him out,” said Melt. “Greenthumb grew the grass on the lawn to hold him down in case he woke up. And then, we headed inside.”
Melt paused, taking a long breath. He coughed and patted his chest, fishing a cigarette out of the pack in his front pocket. Under any other circumstances, Malcolm would have stopped him from lighting it, but it was as good a distraction as the gin or their conversation.
“The girl’s mother and sister were sitting at the kitchen table,” said Melt. “Forever. They weren’t going anywhere.”
“Forever?” asked Malcolm.
“She turned them to stone,” said Melt, flashing a sardonic smile. “She turned the food to stone! They were still sitting there. They looked scared, the most perfect statues you’ve ever seen, this poor woman and this little thirteen or fourteen year old girl. Just fucking statues, stuck eating their breakfast for the rest of eternity.”
Melt took a few puffs from the cigarette.
“We went upstairs,” said Melt. “The girl was hiding in her closet. She was little, really little. Too little. She covered her eyes. Wouldn’t look at us. We couldn’t touch her. We couldn’t do anything, other than what we were there to do.”
Melt reached down to his waist. Malcolm tensed up as the other man pulled a gun out of its holster and set it on the couch next to him.
“It took all of the ammo we had,” he said, quietly. “Her skin was made of stone. We had to shoot through it, shoot until there was just a bunch of little pieces left. Rocks and dust. Probably breathed some of it in on the way out.”
“I’m… sorry,” said Malcolm.
“I don’t regret it for a second,” said Melt. “It’s what we had to do.”
Melt stood up suddenly. Malcolm tensed up, searching for something he could say to buy the last few minutes he needed for Rose to escape. Melt started walking toward his bedroom door. Malcolm got to his feet, preparing to physically throw himself in front of the doorway, if need be.
Melt walked right passed the door. He snuffed his cigarette out in the kitchen sink, turned on the faucet, and washed his face. He took a deep breath before turning around to face Malcolm again.
“Hold onto that anger, Wind Runner,” said Melt. “Never forget what that monster did to your family. You got have something to hold onto. Greenthumb’s got his hippie girlfriend and their little organic farm, maybe kids someday. Everybody’s got something for motivation.”
Malcolm resisted the urge to ask Melt what he had for motivation, suspecting that he wouldn’t get a straightforward answer. Instead, he just stayed silent. A minute or so passed by before footsteps sounded from the other side of the front door. Greenthumb came back into the apartment.
“The grass didn’t tell me much,” he said. “We’ll need to look for another lead. Did you find anything here, Melt?”
“No,” said Melt.
Greenthumb sniffed the air.
“Seriously?” he asked. “Smoking and drinking while on duty? We’ve been over this before, Melt.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Melt left the apartment. Greenthumb turned his attention back toward Malcolm, looking him over with appraising eyes.
“Here,” said Greenthumb, handing him a card. “Call me if you hear anything. You can report to your superiors at the local Champion Authority base as well, of course, but I’d like to be informed of any leads as soon as possible.”
“Sure,” said Malcolm.
“I give thanks on Melt’s behalf for your hospitality,” said Greenthumb. “He can be a volatile man sometimes, especially when his mind wanders from his duty.”
Greenthumb was smiling, but there was no cheer in it. Malcolm made eye contact with him and felt a cold chill run down his spine.
“Its fine,” said Malcolm. “He just seems a little a tired.”
“As we all are,” said Greenthumb. “There aren’t enough of us to stave off the evil we’re up against. Speaking of which, I really do think you’d make a fantastic field champion. You have the right disposition for it. I’ll put in a good word with your superiors to get the ball rolling.”
“Oh, no, that’s not-”
“I insist,” said Greenthumb. He nodded, shook Malcolm’s hand, and then left the apartment without another word.
CHAPTER 19
Malcolm spent several nervous minutes watching the door, unsure of how he’d handled the situation. Regardless of what Greenthumb had said about putting in a good word, he was sure the account given to Tapestry and Multi would include the fact that he’d inadvertently aided a spryte.
Rose was gone, and Malcolm felt conflicted. Having her at his apartment would only put both of them at risk. She wasn’t safe with him now that he was on the radar of the field champions. Still, as he checked over his room a second time, letting the overhead light illuminate the dark corners of his closet, he kind of missed her.
This was the plan. I distracted them until the sun set so that she could escape. I’ll probably never see her again.
He gave up thinking about it after a few minutes. Dinner was a rather meager affair, pasta along with some frozen sausage. He ate in front of the TV, playing video games and pausing whenever he heard the floorboards of the apartment creak, or the wind blowing at his window. He checked each time, part of him hoping that it was Rose.
Malcolm awoke the next morning to a newly familiar ritual. Tapestry was already in his apartment, and this time she pushed all the way into his bedroom, knocking only as a formality before throwing the door open.
“Wake up time,” said Tapestry. “Get dressed. Put on a nice shirt, something with a collar.”
Malcolm groaned and sat up. Tapestry was wearing jeans, a white blouse, and a long, navy button up sweater. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.
“What’s the emergency?” mumbled Malcolm. “Is it really necessary for us to start this early?”
“You have an interview with VCAX in two hours,” she said. “I’ve got to get you their early so the makeup people can do their thing.”
Malcolm groaned louder. He wasn’t interested in having more eyes on him, not after his encounter with the field champions. He was beginning to realize that being part of the Champion Authority was more tedious than he’d originally imagined.
“Fine,” said Malcolm. “Just… give me a minute.”
Tapestry waited in the living room while he changed. He pulled on a dress shirt along with a pair of tan slacks, and headed outside. She’d brought a box of donuts with her, which did wonders at buoying Malcolm’s mood.
He didn’t say much as he rode in the passenger seat of the BMW, and hoped that Tapestry would chalk it up to him still being tired. In reality, his thoughts were still centered on Rose, whether she was safe, and whether she’d risk coming back to his apartment.
It might be better if she doesn’t. It’s too dangerous, for both of us.
“Multi told me about your little night adventure,” said Tapestry. “The next time you’re planning on going crime fighting, or whatever it was that you thought you were doing, please be smarter about it.”
“That’s a little harsh,” said Malcolm.
Tapestry shrugged and smiled at him.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But it’s as much an issue of safety for you, as it is anything. We don’t have a lot of champions in Vanderbrook, as you’ve noticed. We need to keep the ones we do have in one piece.”
Malcolm didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds.
“Have you met Melt and Greenthumb before?” he asked. “They were the field agents that followed up on the, uh, incident that I was involved in.”
“I’m familiar with them,” said Tapestry.
She didn’t elaborate, which Malcolm found curious.
“They talked to me about the monsters,” he said. “The demons and the sprytes. What it’s like to hunt them down, and why they have to do it.”
“That’s what they do,” said Tapestry.
“And… what do you think of that?” asked Malcolm. “I’m still new to this world. It just seems like they see things like they’re black and white. They hunt monsters. They kill monsters. They don’t ask questions.”
“Malcolm…” Tapestry pulled to a stop at a red light and glanced over at him, frowning a little. “People die when demons and sprytes are allowed to run wild. Your family… I hate to bring this up, but don’t you wish someone had dealt with the monster that killed them before it stumbled into your neighborhood?”
Malcolm winced. The wound of their deaths was still raw, even after so much time.
“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
“Speaking of which, how about this?” she asked. “You take this interview seriously, and focus on putting on a good face for the cameras. Then, we skip training for the rest of today. I can take you up to headquarters to look in the database for any demons or sprytes matching the description of the one you’re looking for.”
Malcolm forced a smile.
“Sure,” he said. “That sounds great.”
Tapestry reached over. She put her hand on top of his and gave it a small squeeze in an unusual show of affection. Malcolm felt a familiar tingle, and realized that he’d just absorbed her power again.
God dammit. I really need to remember to start wearing gloves, like Rose said.
“I can’t imagine how it must have been for you,” she said. “A family… isn’t something that’s easy to lose so early on in life. I want to help you find vengeance, if you can.”
Malcolm nodded. The light turned green, and Tapestry drove through the intersection.
The VCAX studio was downtown, located in a midsized building. The station’s call letters stood, like a piece of modern art, in front of a large plate glass window on the ground floor. Tapestry parked in the back lot, and they went inside.
“They’re going to ask about the Instagram thing,” said Tapestry, as they waited for the receptionist.
“What?” Malcolm frowned at her. “How is that relevant to what happened at the school?”
“It’s not like they’ll limit the interview to a single topic, Wind Runner,” said Tapestry. “You are the real story here, not the school shooter. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if the girl whose home you fell into ended up writing a ‘full detailed’ account for some unscrupulous magazine.”
“Heck?” asked Malcolm. “Seriously?”
Tapestry rolled her eyes.
“I don’t like to swear,” she said.
Malcolm chuckled, and was even more amused by the way she blushed at his reaction. The receptionist finally showed up, and immediately waved for both of them to follow her.
“This is the dressing room,” she said. “Felicity will take care of you. I’m going to have to ask for your companion to wait in the lobby.”
Tapestry frowned slightly, but Malcolm smiled reassuringly.
“It’ll be fine,” he said. “I won’t say anything stupid. I promise.”
“Just… do your best,” said Tapestry, a bit begrudgingly.
Malcolm walked into the dressing room and took a seat in front of a long mirror. A woman with glasses and a ponytail entered after a minute and immediately began applying makeup.
“Oh, wow,” said the girl. “Sorry! I’m kind of nervous! I mean… you’re the Wind Runner.”
Malcolm chuckled.
“You can call me Malcolm,” he said. “Don’t believe the rumors, I’m just a normal guy.”
“Right,” said the girl. “Half the people at the station were combing the internet for any secret gossip they could find about you.”
“The Instagram thing wasn’t enough for them?”
“They want the really juicy secrets.” The girl pushed some type of makeup pad against his cheeks. “Speaking of which, there’s already fanfiction being written about you.”
“Fan… fiction?” Malcolm shook his head slowly.
“Sorry, I’m kind of into that sort of thing,” she said. “Some of it is really out there. You might want to read it. Or maybe not. It’s really out there.”
“Okay…” said Malcolm. The girl made him turn his head from side to side, apparently happy with the job she’d done. She didn’t say anything, instead she just stood there looking at him.
“Do you need anything else?” she asked. “Coffee? Juice?”
“I’m good,” said Malcolm. “Thanks, though.”
The girl sighed, and left the room. Malcolm looked at himself in the mirror, impressed by the job she’d done.
He waited for at least an hour before someone finally came to get him. He was led down a hall and into a dim backstage area.
“Don’t worry, it’s not live,” said one of the techs. “If you get confused by any of the questions, just ask Jennifer to rephrase it for you. We can edit stuff like that out later.”
“Got it,” said Malcolm.
“Alright then,” said the tech. “Head on out and take a seat.”
Malcolm was surprised by how bright the lights were. The set was simple, with two comfortable chairs facing each other in front of a basic backdrop. The space looked smaller from his perspective than it had on TV, and the presence of the cameras and the microphones made it feel less impressive, somehow.
He recognized Jennifer Morgan as she walked out to take the seat across from him. He’d seen her dozens, if not hundreds of times before since she’d been hired by VCAX. She was pretty, but not overly so, with black hair and pale skin. She wore a blue suit jacket with a matching skirt.
“Malcolm Caldwell,” said Jennifer. “It’s great to have you here today.”
“Great to be here, Jennifer.” He smiled, feeling ridiculous at how easy it was to slide into the role of the interviewee.
“Do you prefer that I call you Malcolm, or Mr. Caldwell, or… Wind Runner?”
Malcolm hesitated before answering.
“Wind Runner is fine,” he said.
CHAPTER 20
The first half of the interview was straightforward, even boring, at times. Jennifer asked him about his early life, about growing up in Vanderbrook. Malcolm wondered why anybody would care about who he’d been, and how he’d lived before becoming a champion, but he answered as honestly as he could.
The interview only started to get interesting for him when she finally started asking about the day he’d discovered his powers. He described the scene in the classroom to her in general detail, leaving out any mention of the music he’d been listening to.
It’s probably best if I treat my focus activity a little like I have to treat my weakness.
“And so, you left the school,” said Jennifer. “And you began jumping from roof top to roof top?”
Malcolm fidgeted slightly.
“Uh… that’s correct.” He scratched his head. At the time, he’d only cared about using his powers, and seeing what he could do with them. He hadn’t stopped to consider what the public must have seen as he leapt through town, trespassing on private property, and generally disturbing the peace.
“Mr. Wind Runner, I know this is a sensitive issue to address, but everyone’s talking about it,” said Jennifer. “A woman named Emily Jenkins posted several photos of you on social media on this same morning.”
“Yeah…” said Malcolm. “I sort of… fell through her window.”
“She was naked at the time,” said Jennifer. “And the two of you… engaged in sexual intercourse?”
Malcolm squirmed.
“Something like that,” he said. “It was very spur of the moment.”
“To be clear, even by her account, it was consensual,” said Jennifer. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. The concern that many people, including myself have, is what it says about your personality.”
Don’t say something stupid… Don’t say something stupid…
“My personality?” asked Malcolm. “I mean, I’d like to think that it means that I’m charming. Funny, laid back, with a winning smile and a nice, big… shoe size.”
Jennifer stared at him in stunned silence. Malcolm tried to smile, his hopes for the interview sinking along with the joke.
“What I meant to say,” he continued. “…was that it was totally a mistake, and I recognize that now.”
“Right,” said Jennifer. “Mr. Wind Runner, Ms. Jenkins claims that after the two of you finished, you became hostile over her wish to document the encounter,” said Jennifer.
“Well, that’s kind of an exaggeration,” said Malcolm. “She was snapping photos like crazy, without my consent. I was just trying to get her to stop, and I think I acted reasonably.”
“The picture she paints of you doesn’t make you sound reasonable, Malcolm,” said Jennifer. “Do you understand how it might concern people for a champion here in a small town like Vanderbrook to be acting erratically?”
Malcolm opened his mouth to answer and then stopped himself.
This isn’t about what’s already happened. This is about what people are afraid could happen, if I turn out to not be a stable, justice minded kind of person.
“I understand,” Malcolm said, carefully. “And I do regret how the incident turned out, in retrospect.”
“I think that will put a lot of people at ease to hear,” said Jennifer.
“Moving forward, I’ll be working with the Champion Authority to keep the local area safe,” said Malcolm. “That’s every champion’s goal, when it comes down to it. A safe world, safer even than the world was before the start of the phenomenon.”
Should I also say that I’ll help cats out of trees? Help old ladies cross the road? Give sermons in church?
Jennifer nodded slowly.
“So you’re talking about the so-called monsters, then? The sprytes and demons.”
Malcolm hesitated.
“…I’m talking about any threat that would jeopardize people’s lives,” he said.
“There’s been a lot of discussion on the internet about sprytes and demons,” said Jennifer. “One vocal camp in particular has been insisting that the Champion Authority’s treatment of them is inhumane. What’s your opinion on that?”
Malcolm closed his eyes. He’d been dreading this question, or any variation of it. It was easy enough for him to tow the company line when it came to admitting his past mistakes and promising to do better. When it came to the morality of killing sprytes and demons, he wasn’t sure what he thought, or if he could lie effectively.
I’ll just tell her a version of the truth, then.
“I’ve only been a champion for a couple of days,” said Malcolm. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but… I lost my family to a monster attack.”
“Of course,” said Jennifer. “The incident on Day One of the Phenomenon that killed your mother and brother. My apologies if this is a sensitive topic to bring up.”
“It’s fine,” said Malcolm. “What I can tell you honestly is that I’ve never stopped looking for the monster that took my mother and brother away from me.”
Jennifer nodded, clearly satisfied by his answer. The rest of the interview was less hard hitting, and Malcolm even joked some more with her about his name and how appropriately it described his somewhat meager powers.
They only know about my wind manipulation. I should probably try to keep it that way.
“Thank you for your time, Malcolm,” said Jennifer, at the end. “The interview will probably air tomorrow night, possibly the next day if it takes our editors-”
Someone burst into the studio, waving to get everyone’s attention.
“There’s a fire, a big one. In the outskirts of town, near the old auto factory. We’ve got to get a news crew there, ASAP.”
The news team immediately began scrambling to gather their equipment. Malcolm spotted Tapestry moving onto the set from backstage. She grabbed his arm and pulled.
“Come on,” she said. “We can help out, too.”
“How?”
Tapestry winked at him.
“Fires are my specialty,” she said.
CHAPTER 21
Malcolm hesitated outside, as they were running toward the BMW.
“Why don’t I go ahead of you?” he said. “I’m pretty sure I can get there faster on foot than you can through traffic.”
Tapestry thought about it for an instant and then nodded.
“Save anyone you can,” said Tapestry. “Please… don’t do anything stupid.”
“Me?” He grinned at her. “Of course not.”
Malcolm reached out, pulling the wind around him. He broke off in a run in the direction of the fire, taking long, loping steps boosted by wind. It felt almost like running down a long trampoline, except with the force of a wind tunnel at his back.
People stopped and stared at him. If it wasn’t for the time constraint of the fire, Malcolm would have waved, or put on a show. As it was, he saw phones out in the hand of almost every onlooker, filming for Facebook and YouTube.
Note to self: Try not to ever do anything really stupid in public.
The smoke from the fire signaled its location. Malcolm closed in on it, seeing the extent of the blaze as he rounded the corner. A couple of buildings that he knew to be abandoned were on fire, along with a rundown apartment complex that was still very much occupied.
The blaze looked strange. There were abandoned buildings on either side of the complex, but they’d almost collapsed from the extent of the fire damage.
Smoke was pouring out of most of the apartment windows, but from what Malcom could see, the flames hadn’t reached the roof yet. Something about it looked intentional, and he considered the possibility that an arsonist might still be nearby.
Malcolm used his wind manipulation to run up the side of a building across the street. It was taller than any building he’d tried scaling before, and he felt a mixture of adrenaline and fear as he neared the top. He pulled himself up over the building’s concrete lip and looked back at the burning apartments.
There was no way anyone still in the building could make it out through the front entrance. The flames on the lower floor were too intense for even fire fighters to make an attempt at suppressing. Malcolm could make out the shapes of people on the roof. He summoned the wind and sent a massive gust toward them, hoping to blow back the smoke and let them get a breath of fresh air.
And if I can keep the smoke clear for long enough, a helicopter can land there!
For an instant, it looked like it was working. Malcolm upped his efforts, waiting for the people lying crouched and prone on the building to spring to their feet. They didn’t. And the fire, fed by the oxygen in his wind blast, surged stronger.
“Damn it!” Malcolm stopped using his powers, gritting his teeth in frustration. He looked around, desperate for another tactic, and saw the water tank.
It was on top of the building he was on, and something he probably should have noticed earlier. It was at least twice his height and three times his circumference, and filled with fresh, cold water. Malcolm considered for a moment, and then carefully used a blast of wind to blow the top off.
Alright. This is going to be some intricate shit.
He stood behind it, blocking his own view of the burning building. Malcolm reached deep into his powers, summoning the full strength of the wind he could command, and hit the open water tank with enough force to make it wobble.
He hit it again, slowly building a shaking rhythm, back and forth, until finally the tank tipped. Malcolm moved as fast as he could, getting a good view of the water as it fell and using the wind to sweep under it. He pulled it back up into the air and pushed it into the burning building.
Enough of the windows had already broken from the heat to make his water attack effective. He saw the fire dim noticeably, but it wasn’t enough to put it out. Malcolm’s frustration boiled over. He looked around, desperate for something else he could do.
A single figure was approaching the building. Malcolm recognized the outfit and blonde hair, and immediately jumped down to the ground, cushioning his fall with the wind. Tapestry was taking off her clothes, throwing them behind her like an off-duty life guard rushing into the water.
“What are you doing?” shouted Malcolm.
“I can help from within,” said Tapestry. “This is what I meant. Fire isn’t enough to stop me, Malcolm.”
“And what happens if the building collapses on top of you?” he asked. “Tapestry! Not even the firefighters are risking their men.”
She turned and met his eye for an instant.
“We have a responsibility, Malcolm.”
She ran forward at full speed, barefoot and clad only in her bra and panties. Malcolm watched in disbelief as she burst through the wall of flames without bothering to slow down. He looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling as though his own power was a very meager thing.
The firefighters were finally set up. A couple had hose streams concentrated on the building. Malcolm used the wind to help direct the water as much as he could, his body tense with concern for Tapestry.
Minutes went by, long enough that he began to doubt whether he’d ever see her again. Finally, Tapestry burst out from the entrance, carrying a small form wrapped in a bundle of blankets.
Her skin was charred in places, and her bra and panties had been completely burned off. She collapsed into a pile, steam and smoke still rising from her body. The building let out a deep groan, and one of the lower floors gave out, starting a domino effect as the rest of it toppled down.
Malcolm helped pull Tapestry and the child she’d saved away from the wreckage. Dust blasted out in a shockwave as the building collapsed, flames continuing to burn what was left.
“Hey!” shouted Malcolm. “Tapestry!”
She blinked ash out of her eyes to look at him and smiled. Malcolm couldn’t help but smile back at her. The child was coughing, and EMTs were already carrying it toward one of the ambulances. Malcolm patted out a small, smoldering flame that still burned in Tapestry’s hair, and then glanced down at the rest of her slightly crispy and very naked body.
He cleared his throat, trying not to notice how pink her nipples were against the rest of her soot covered skin. Malcolm pulled off his windbreaker and set it over her shoulders, and she nodded in thanks.
“Do you want me to get one of the EMTs to look at you?” he asked, quietly.
She shook her head.
“They know me,” she said. “They know I’ll be fine. I just need my clothes and… my phone.”
Malcolm nodded, heading over to where she’d left them piled. He brought them back to her, and turned around to allow her some privacy while she dressed.
“That was amazing,” he said. “Tapestry… I’ve never seen anyone risk their life like that.”
He instantly wished that he’d used a different phrasing.
“There’s no risk in it for me,” she said. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t try to help.”
Malcolm understood what she meant. Her example had given him something, a new perspective on his role as a champion. He wasn’t ever going to be able to lean back from a dangerous situation, ignore danger and assume someone else had it covered.
“This was the work of a demon,” said Tapestry. “I saw it, through the flames.”
“A… demon?” Malcolm frowned at her, turning back to face her just as she was pulling on her sweater.
“It might be the one, Malcolm,” she said, quietly. “The one you’ve been looking for, or at least one like it. I can’t be sure, but it looked as though it was feeding off the heat.”
“Feeding off the heat?”
“We’ve heard rumors about this demon before,” said Tapestry. “It has explosion powers. Feeds off heat sources, releases the heat in a massive blast. Capable of destroying buildings, people, pretty much anything, but usually it needs to set a bunch of regular fires, first.”
Malcolm was still reeling from what she’d said.
It’s the same one. I don’t know how I know, but I do. It must be.
They spent another few hours at the scene. Tapestry spoke with the police chief, several fire wardens, and Multi, over her cell phone. Malcolm was beginning to understand how much of the job of a champion was public relations, reassuring people in the aftermath of a dangerous event.
He didn’t want to know what the death toll in the building was. The firefighters were still in the process of putting the last of the flames out, but rescue workers were already pulling bodies loose from the rubble, and lining them up side by side on the concrete.
It was late in the afternoon when Tapestry finally finished her diplomacy. Malcolm had spent most of the time on his phone, feeling useless and bored out of his mind. When she finally walked over to him and nodded, he tried not to let his relief show on his face.
“Come on,” said Tapestry. “I have to get home. Melanie is worried about me.”
“Right,” said Malcolm.
Tapestry hesitated for a moment.
“You can have dinner with us, if you want,” she said. “It might be a better way of decompressing than heading back to an empty apartment.”
Malcolm smiled.
“Sure.”
CHAPTER 22
Tapestry drove them to one of the nicer neighborhoods in Vanderbrook, pulling into the driveway of a surprisingly large house. Melanie was already waiting for them at the door, wearing a flower-patterned spring dress and looking extremely worried.
“Aubrey!” shouted Melanie. “You promised! You promised me that you would stop taking stupid risks and relying so much on your powers. This is breaking that promise! Do you understand? You’ve broken your promise!”
Tapestry scratched her head, shooting an awkward glance in Malcolm’s direction.
“It couldn’t be helped.” She set her hand on Melanie’s shoulders. “Look, I’m okay.”
“Okay?” Melanie reached out and snapped off a section of still burned hair. “This only happens when your powers run low. You were close to dying, Aubrey, for real.”
“A lot of people did die today, Mel,” said Tapestry.
Melanie took a deep breath, continuing to glare at Tapestry for a moment. Then, she pulled her into a tight hug.
“I was so worried,” she said. “They showed it on the news, and I just knew you’d stick your nose in. Next time, please… just let the fire fighters do their job. You have your job, and they have theirs. Separation of specialization. Stick to the normal champion stuff.”
Tapestry returned the embrace, softly stroking Melanie’s hair.
“I’ll try,” she said. “Sorry, Mel.”
The three of them stepped into the house, and Melanie only then seemed to notice Malcolm. She nodded, her smile broadening significantly.
“Hi,” said Malcolm. “Nice to see you again, Melanie.”
“Well, at least you did one smart thing, Aubrey,” said Melanie. “I was bugging her for all of yesterday afternoon to get you over here for dinner, Wind Runner. Her other coworkers are nice, but they aren’t like her. Too focused on their jobs. No perspective, none at all.”
Malcolm shrugged, feeling a little overwhelmed.
This girl is too much.
He took his shoes off and looked around the house. It was very clean and nicely decorated, but there was something off about it that took Malcolm a little while to notice. It was the style, the wallpaper, even the carpet. Everything looked as though it came from another era, teleported forward from 1975.
“Melanie, can you keep Malcolm company in the living room while I get started on dinner?” asked Tapestry. “I’ll get the two of you something to drink. Seltzer? Cranberry juice?”
“Water’s fine,” said Malcolm.
He watched as Tapestry disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later wearing a pink apron and carrying two glasses. She smiled broadly as she passed them to Malcolm and Melanie, as though being the busy bee of the house was her favorite thing in the world.
“We’re having steak, but I also need to recharge,” said Tapestry. “Any requests? I make excellent oatmeal cookies.”
“That’s fine,” said Malcolm. “As long as they have chocolate chips, and not raisins.”
Tapestry scrunched up her face at him.
“They taste better with raisins, but fine,” she sighed. “Also, Melanie can help you get the music system set up, so you can listen to your 90s stuff and recharge. I don’t use it as much, so I’m not as familiar with it.”
“Totally!” said Melanie. “Here, let me show you Malcolm. I installed it for Aubrey. Speakers all over the room. It’s Bluetooth, so you can connect using your phone. Just find the device in the list that comes down when you-”
“I got it,” said Malcolm. He connected to the speakers and started playing a vintage Weezer song off one of his playlists. Immediately he felt relaxed, almost like getting a massage after working out all day.
He sat down on the couch with Melanie. She was talking to him, word after word falling out of her mouth like water out of a faucet.
“And she knows that she doesn’t have to! That’s the thing! It’s just that she sees it in terms of keeping the people she loves safe, you know. Which is fine by me, but sometimes I wish she would keep herself safe, for her and for me.”
“The two of you are really close, huh?” asked Malcolm.
Melanie hesitated. For the first time that evening, she looked as though she didn’t know exactly what to say.
“It’s okay,” said Malcolm. “I get it. You both didn’t exactly jump to confirm my conclusion when I implied that you were sisters yesterday. I know what’s going on.”
“You… do?” said Melanie.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s fine, Melanie. I’m not weird and judgmental. I just think it’s great that you’re both in love.”
Melanie’s jaw dropped open. She stared at Malcolm in disbelief, and then started laughing.
“Wow,” she said. “Just… wow.”
“Uh, sorry,” said Malcolm. “Did I… assume too much?”
Melanie sighed and shook her head.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Look, this is going to come out sooner or later, if you and Aubrey stay friends. I wish she would just come out and tell you, but she can be a little shy and guarded, sometimes.”
“Just tell me,” said Malcolm. “Whatever it is.”
Melanie glanced back at the kitchen door, making sure that Tapestry was still out of the room.
“You can’t tell her that I told you,” she said.
Malcolm nodded.
“We are related,” said Melanie. “It’s just a… far off connection.”
“How far off, exactly?”
“About… three generations,” said Melanie. “Aubrey is my great grandmother.”
Grandmother? Wait… great grandmother…?
“How…?” Malcolm was shaking his head. “That’s not… possible.”
“Her powers heal her body completely,” said Melanie. “Including the effects of aging. She’s always going to be a young adult, a woman around nineteen or twenty. At least in a physical sense.”
Malcolm brought a hand to his mouth. He blinked, still struggling to believe it.
“She was 98 when she discovered her gift,” said Melanie. “It was just after, well… My parents, and my brother… they all died in a demon attack. My grandparents have been dead for a couple of years now. Aubrey was the only family I had left, and I was the one taking care of her. Until…”
Malcolm listened, for once deeply interested in each and every word coming out of Melanie’s mouth.
“It’d been years since she’d been fully lucid, but one day, I was helping her with her baking, which she is totally crazy about, by the way, and… all the sudden it was like she was there again, asking me important questions. Telling me that it was going to be okay. I was a mess during that time, and it meant so much to me.”
“I can only imagine,” he said.
“It took… about three months,” said Melanie. “She aged backward like, probably a year per day. All the way back to the age she looks now. I’d already been living here, taking care of her, and we both just… went on with our lives.”
Melanie let out a breath, as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Malcolm leaned back against the couch and took a sip of his water.
“This isn’t going to make things weird for you, is it?” Melanie asked.
Malcolm thought about it for a second.
It doesn’t change who Tapestry is. She always seemed more mature, more like a real adult, than me. Now I know why.
“No,” he said. “Of course it won’t.”
“Dinner’s ready!” called Tapestry. “Why don’t the two of you go and wash up?”
CHAPTER 23
“Bless us, oh lord and these, thy gifts for which we are about to receive from your bounty,” said Tapestry. “Through Christ our lord, Amen.”
“Amen,” muttered Malcolm.
He opened his eyes and smiled. Tapestry was sitting directly across the table from him. She was pretty, and he felt like he was noticing that fact again for the first time. Her skin was smooth and flawless, and she had an adorable mouth, full of expression. Along with glossy blonde hair, and a fantastic body.
“Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “Why are you staring at me?”
“You just…” Malcolm floundered. “You look so good. I mean… uh…”
Tapestry sighed and glanced over at Melanie.
“You told him,” she said.
“He…” Melanie shook her head defensively. “He… thought we were lesbians! The truth is better than him thinking something like that.”
A smile spread across Tapestry’s face. She leaned back in her chair, pulling the tip of her ponytail around to play with in her fingers.
“Yes, it’s true,” said Tapestry, looking at Malcolm. “I was born in the 1920s. I married my husband, Marty, just after the end of World War II. We had three children together. I watched them grow up, and their kids grow up, and so forth. I’m very old.”
Malcolm found that he was shaking his head, disagreeing. Or rather, he saw her point, but also saw the young woman sitting across the table from him. It was easy to reconcile her with a century of life experience, and at the same time, nearly impossible.
“You don’t… look old,” he said, lamely. “I mean… look, I’m not going to treat you any different. I’m still going to look at you the same way.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Tapestry.
“Uh…” Malcolm felt his face heat. He scratched his head.
What do I mean by that?
“Aubrey, this steak is delicious!” said Melanie, in a loud, conversational voice. “Did you use the new seasoning? I think it really helps pull out the flavor. Mmm, and so spicy!”
“Malcolm…” Tapestry frowned. “Maybe we should talk about this later?”
He nodded, afraid that if he said anything else he’d only prolong the awkwardness. The timer went off on the oven, and Tapestry stood, pulling her apron back on along with a pair of thick oven mitts. She pulled out a pan of perfect oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and set them on the cooling rack.
The rest of dinner was a slightly tense and mostly silent affair. Malcolm felt as though it was somehow his fault for knowing the truth. The food was delicious, however, and he was still able to appreciate the first home cooked meal he’d had in a very long time.
“That was excellent,” he said. “But I can’t eat another bite.”
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