Wind Runner: The Complete Collection (1-5)

Malcolm shook his head.

“I disagree,” he said. “Odds are, they’ve taken precautions since I escaped, but they wouldn’t just abandon this place completely.

“You said that this wasn’t their base,” said Melt. “You said it was just a front for recruitment.”

“I didn’t use those words, exactly,” said Malcolm. “It’s a church. And they do have a flock of true believers. To them, this building is sacred.”

“Bah,” muttered Melt. “Waste of time.”

Malcolm watched the church, feeling like something was off about the situation. Between Rain Dancer’s brashness and Shield Maiden’s intelligence, he was almost sure that they would have destroyed the church if they weren’t planning on coming back to it.

I don’t think they’d want to leave any clues, even if it was just the hair and fingerprints of their followers.

“This is taking too long!” snapped Melt.

“Relax,” said Malcolm. “The plan is solid. We just need to be patient.”

“Fuck patient,” said Melt. “We’re going inside.”

He took a step toward the open doorway of the storefront. Malcolm grabbed Melt by the arm. Melt scowled, dissolving his shoulder and reforming it as soon as he was loose again.

“Melt!” hissed Malcolm.

Melt was already sprinting across the street. He didn’t stop at the church’s door, immediately transforming into dark red goo and sliding under the crack.

Malcolm followed him, swearing under his breath every step of the way. Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden would have been stupid to not leave someone watching the church, and by heading inside first, Malcolm and Melt had given their opponents exactly what they wanted.

He reached the church’s door and, deciding to forgo stealth, knocked it open with a wind assisted kick. Light streamed into an otherwise pitch black room, perfectly illuminating the center aisle between the pews.

Malcolm walked forward slowly, frowning as he noticed that tarps had been hung in front of all the windows, not just the one he’d broken. Melt reformed a short distance away from him. The hairs on the back of Malcolm’s neck stood up as he connected the dots.

“No…” he muttered.

Shadow tendrils appeared from underneath benches and within dark corners, seizing both Malcolm and Melt. Melt immediately slid free using his power. Malcolm was paralyzed, not by the bonds, but his own despair.

“Monster!” shouted Melt. “Die!”

Rose appeared from behind a bench, a dark expression on her face. Melt charged toward her, slamming his foot forward into a front kick. Rose used her shadow tendrils to deflect the attack, spinning past him and attacking his face with claws made of darkness. Melt dissolved as the blow landed.

Malcolm just stared, paralyzed by indecision. He couldn’t help Rose without attacking Melt. He couldn’t fight Rose without… fighting Rose. His heart pounded with concern and the weight of impending loss. There was no good ending to the encounter, not this time.

You knew this would happen, eventually. From the first moment you brought her back to your apartment.

“Wind Runner!” shouted Melt. “Don’t just stand there, you fool!”

Malcolm twisted free of the shadow tendrils, noticing that they were loose and weak. It was as though Rose hadn’t intended to hold him for more than just show. Did she expect him to come to her defense? To save her in her time of need, a gallant knight fighting for the sake of a dark, sultry princess?

“”Don’t…” said Malcolm, forcing the words out. “We can’t win, Melt.”

Already, the fight looked like a computer generated scene in an action movie. Rose was attacked by Melt from a dozen different angles, and each time, the champion dissolved his way past each strike, reforming his body with surreal ease.

It was an over the top display of their powers, and Malcolm knew that it couldn’t go on forever. The body load of using a super ability at this intensity would make it hard for at least one of them, if not both, to keep focus. Malcolm could already see the signs of it in Rose. The frenzied darkness wrapped tighter around her body, and her eyes had turned into spheres of onyx in their sockets.

“Fight her, you coward!” screamed Melt. He twisted, dodging a shadow tendril in the shape of grappling hook and reached into his coat. His hand came out holding a gun.

Malcolm was there in an instant, throwing himself between Melt and Rose with the wind. A single shot rang out, the bullet going wide into the ceiling. The sound of it brought the fight to a pause for a moment, with both Melt and Rose staring at Malcolm in disbelief.

“No,” said Malcolm. “Fight’s over…”

“Malcolm…” whispered Rose.

“What is wrong with you?” screamed Melt. “Kill her!”

“No!” said Malcolm. “She… isn’t evil. It’s not right, Melt.”

Malcolm knew that he’d said too much. Melt stared at him as though he’d just admitted to murder. The gun came back up in Melt’s hand. Malcolm rushed to push Rose out of the way, but Melt pulled the trigger faster than he could.

Rose let out a high-pitched scream as the bullet struck her. She grasped her shoulder, falling down onto one knee. Malcolm took a step toward her and was slapped back by a massive shadow tendril. When Rose looked back up at him, her eyes were jet black, and black lines were spreading across the skin of her face like a spider web.

“Monster!” Melt took aim a third time, but a shadow tendril seized his arm before he could fire. He let out a scream of pain as the tendril twisted, breaking his arm before he could dissolve.

Rose seized him with more bonds of darkness and cracked him hard against the floor. Melt lay there, unmoving, either unconscious or dead. Malcolm slowly pulled himself to his feet, aware that the shadow spryte’s attention was now fully on him.

She’s having an episode. She isn’t herself…

“Rose…” he said. “Enough…”

If she recognized him in her current state, she gave no sign of it. Rose surged toward him, bringing her tendrils down in an overhead attack, like the stinger of a scorpion. Malcolm threw himself to the side with the wind, and then leapt into the air, pushing himself into a brief burst of flight.

He landed behind Rose, but she was already moving, grabbing him with her shadows and preparing to tear him limb from limb. Malcolm did something that he doubted she’d been expecting. Using he wind, he pushed himself closer to her, until their bodies were in direct contact. Rose’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t pull back.

“It’s okay,” he said, cupping her cheek. “It’s me.”

He leaned in and kissed her. Rose let out a surprisingly squeal, her entire body humming with the power of her shadows. She kissed him back, and Malcolm felt her regaining control, slowly reeling the darkness in.

And then, pain exploded through Malcolm’s entire body. He looked down, and saw a hole in his stomach.

CHAPTER 31

“Traitor!” screamed Melt. “You’ll both die!”

Malcolm looked at him as he fell to the ground. Melt held his favorite knife in his hand, with both the long blade and the brass knuckle hilt dripping with Malcolm’s blood. He’d stabbed Malcolm through the back, punching all the way through his abdomen on the other side. It was more painful than anything Malcolm had ever experienced.

He hit the ground hard, his vision wavering from the intensity of the wound. He was glad Tapestry had given him her power, but if past experiences were anything to go on, it would take him at least a few moments to begin healing.

Rose was back in the throes of darkness. She let out a demonic screech and hurled herself at Melt, who swung his knife in a desperate attempt to ward her off. Shadows moved on all sides of him, slapping and punching like a ring of aggressors around a single opponent.

“You betrayed us!” screamed Melt. “You’ve killed us both!”

Melt used his powers liberally, his body dissolving and reforming so rapidly that he seemed to have no clear shape at all. He was shouting and growling, as much animal as man. He was angry, but it was more than just that.

He’s got to be feeling the body load, at this point. Damn it… why did he have to stab me?

“This is how destruction and death goes unchecked in the world!” screamed Melt. “Wind Runner, I’m going to torture you once I’m done with this cunt! I’m going to make you fucking suffer you fucking bastard.”

Malcolm coughed, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Hope you don’t… kiss your mother with that…”

He coughed again, unable to get the last word out.

Rose had forced Melt into the corner. Her tendrils were attacking like whips now, striking out at him and ripping through clothing and flesh. Melt dodged using his power, but Rose used walls of shadow to keep him from escaping.

“You’re worse than the monsters, you fucking traitor,” said Melt, raving deliriously. “At least I know where I stand with them! Wind Runner, you fucking piece of shit, snake motherfucker!”

Rose lashed out again, and Melt let out a high-pitched scream.

“No!” shouted Melt, desperation entering his tone. “I… won’t… die!”

He charged forward, completely giving himself over to his powers. Melt shifted, still keeping the shape of a man, as his body slowly took on a red, gelatinous color. His flesh vibrated with each movement, like a disturbed plate of gelatin.

“Stop…” coughed Malcolm. “Rose… Melt! This… no!”

He sensed what was about to happen, and could do nothing to stop it. Rose stabbed her shadow tendrils forward into Melt. He expanded outward, his body shifting and creating holes to let them pass through harmlessly. Malcolm could see his eyes flicker and then begin to glow bright white.

Melt let out a roar. The glow of his eyes intensified, and suddenly his entire body compacted into a sphere of red goo the size of a basketball. He gave off bright, white light and quivered with power for a moment, and then exploded outward into a spray of red ooze.

Rose fell backward, making a surprised noise as she landed on her butt. Malcolm pulled himself up to a sitting position, trying to keep his hands over the still bleeding wound in his stomach and back.

Melt was slowly reforming in the aisle that cut through the center of the pews. Except, he was no longer the Melt that Malcolm had known. Melt’s face and head appeared first, and it only took a single look at the shape of Melt’s skull, and the color of his eyes, to see the difference.

He just turned. Melt… has become a demon.

“Rose,” said Malcolm, his voice weak.

Rose was barely in control, and she staggered over to Malcolm with odd motions, like she was fighting to keep from doing something else. She bent down on one knee next to him. Malcolm quickly leaned in and kissed her again, hoping the blood on his lips wasn’t too much of a turnoff.

She breathed a sigh of relief, and the spider web of shadows on her face rescinded.

“Thanks,” she said. “Your friend… I think he’s changed.”

Melt was still in the process of rebuilding his body, going slower than he usually took to reform. Malcolm had no desire to wait around and see what happened when he finished.

“We have to go,” he said. “Rose… will you come with me?”

She frowned.

“Malcolm…”

“Back to my apartment, not to the other champions,” He coughed again. “We don’t have time. Rose, come on!”

Malcolm groaned as he staggered to his feet. Rose was there with an arm underneath him in an instant. The two of them hurried out of the church. Behind them, Melt began to let out a wet, sucking laugh.

“That’s his truck,” Malcolm said, nodding to their ride. “He left the keys… under the seat.”

The two of them got inside. Rose found the keys, started it up, and took off speeding down the street away from the church. It was a tense, silent drive back to Malcolm’s apartment. He was worried that if he said anything, he’d scare Rose away, like a bird perched next to him on a park bench.

They parked Melt’s truck on the street and Rose helped into his apartment. Malcolm collapsed on the couch and breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled his shirt open, examining the rapidly forming scab closing the hole in his stomach.

“I see you borrowed the blonde champion’s power again,” said Rose.

Malcolm smiled at her.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to get weird about Tapestry just because we’re mortal enemies now?”

Rose laughed.

“No, I’m still not the jealous type,” said Rose. “Even under duress. Your champion friend might be, though.”

“Jealousy… wouldn’t be the half of it,” said Malcolm. “You saw how Melt reacted to the idea of me betraying the Champion Authority…”

Melt is a demon now. I don’t even know how to react to that.

“She’s going to find out eventually,” said Rose.

“I know,” he said. “…I’ve been trying to push Tapestry away. Keep her at a distance so that it doesn’t completely destroy her ability to trust other people. But it’s like, the more I try, the better she gets at sneaking through my emotional defenses.”

“She is a woman,” says Rose, taking a seat next to him. “It makes sense.”

Malcolm smiled at her. He reached over and set a hand on her shoulder.

“What happens now?” he asked.

Rose frowned, shaking her head slightly.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You’ve taken an injured champion captive,” said Malcolm.

“An injured champion that I let escape in the first place,” said Rose. “I might have chosen to align myself with Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden, but I’m not a surrogate for them.”

“You were waiting at the church,” said Malcolm. “What would have happened if I hadn’t been there? If it had just been Melt, and another champion?”

Rose looked away from him. Her face was flushed slightly, a darker purple than its usual tone.

“There is a very good chance that I would have killed them,” said Rose. “That’s what I was there to do, Malcolm. I’m not going to lie to you… even if it would make things easier.”

“I guess you didn’t plan on Melt having a, well, you know… meltdown.”

“You are such a dork,” said Rose. She sighed, and leaned so that her shoulder was against his.

“I still don’t get it,” said Malcolm. “You don’t believe in the religious nonsense. You’re not totally onboard with their methods. And you claim that you don’t care about your sister…”

“I do care about her,” said Rose. “Just not in the way you care about your family. And she’s safe now. I convinced Rain Dancer to move all of the Awakened Children outside of Vanderbrook and Halter City, for a time.”

“Why, though?” asked Malcolm.

Rose let her hand slide through his hair affectionately.

“Because I didn’t get to pick the side that I’m on,” said Rose.

Malcolm frowned and shook his head.

“The Champion Authority is going to crush Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden eventually, Rose,” he said. “You know it as well as I do. They aren’t strong enough to stand on their own.”

“Rain Dancer is stronger than he looks, Malcolm,” said Rose. “So much stronger. You would have to see it, to believe it.”

“I’m going to beat him the next time I see him,” said Malcolm. “Maybe even kill him.”

Rose didn’t say anything. She kept sliding her hand, letting it massage and caress his shoulders.

“Leah told me more about who I used to be,” said Rose. “Bits and pieces from my past.”

“Seriously?” asked Malcolm. “That’s awesome.”

“It hasn’t really triggered much,” said Rose. “It’s not like… someone else can explain to you who you are, when it comes down to it.”

“I’m still interested,” said Malcolm.

Rose smiled, suddenly looking a bit sheepish.

“My name was Rosalina,” she said. “I was, I guess, kind of nerdy? I liked to read a lot, and worked as a biologist.”

“Huh,” said Malcolm.

“What?” Rose raised an eyebrow at him. “What would you have guessed my previous career to be?”

Malcolm grinned.

“Stripper,” he said. “Or maybe a lingerie model.”

Rose punched him on the arm, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know whether to be insulted, or flattered,” she said.

“Why not both?” asked Malcolm. “What else did she tell you?”

Rose’s expression took on a pensive quality.

“She talked about our parents a little,” said Rose. “They’ve both passed on. I tried to get her to tell me more about my personal life, friends, relationships, that kind of thing, but didn’t get much from her.”

“She wouldn’t tell you?” Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

“She was evasive about it,” said Rose. “She wouldn’t even tell me my last name. It was strange. But beggars can’t exactly be choosers. I feel as though I’ve learned enough, at least for…”

She tensed up suddenly, and Malcolm saw her lose control for an instant, darkness clouding her face.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you okay? How long has it been since you, well, you know…”

Sex. Her focus activity.

“Since the last time between me and you,” whispered Rose. “I can’t just go to anybody… past a certain point.”

“Past what point?”

Malcolm stared into her eyes, seeing a sudden mixture of vulnerability and longing. He reached his hand out, letting it caress her cheek. Rose drew in closer to him, her gaze darting down to his lips. Malcolm kissed her, and felt her wrapping him in a familiar embrace, both with her arms and her powers.

CHAPTER 32

Malcolm let his kisses travel along Rose’s neck. She was wearing a loose grey t-shirt and black leggings, the same clothes that most of the members of the Awakened Children wore. He peeled them away from her legs roughly, along with her panties underneath, and planted a kiss on her inner thigh.

“Malcolm…” breathed Rose.

He rubbed her thigh with his hand and grinned up on her.

“Consider this your reward for letting me go last night.”

He brought his tongue in and gave her a slow lick, followed by a soft, gentle kiss. Rose squirmed. He pinned her thighs to keep her in place and kissed again, and again, each one building with intensity until high pitched moans of pleasure began to escape her lips.

“Oh god,” she whispered. “Malcolm!”

He let his tongue dart out, unsure of whether he was pleasuring her or punishing her. Rose shook, but he stopped just before she reached her bursting point. He stripped off his own pants and slid his hardness into her.

His onslaught had gotten her hot and ready, and almost immediately, Malcolm began thrusting at a fast pace. He forced himself to slow down, letting his eyes drink in the sight of her. She was watching him, and there was so much emotion in her expression, so much said with a simple look.

Will I ever be able to fight against her? Is that even I question I need to ask myself?

“Rose,” he said. He kissed her, moving slow within her, savoring the moment. It was what his heart demanded, but he could tell it was torture for her. Rose bucked her hips against him, grinding and shifting, desperate for the release he’d already brought her to the precipice of.

She caressed him, both with her hands and her shadow tendrils. She nuzzled her face in the nape of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin there, and gently nibbling with her teeth. Malcolm pulled her shirt up, taking her breasts in his hands as he continued his deliberately slow pace.

“Are you… doing this on purpose?” Rose whispered, her voice clearly frustrated.

“No.” Malcolm smiled. “If I was, I’d do something more like this.”

He slid out of her and held himself above her. Rose flashed a mock glare at him and took hold of his hardness with a shadow tendril, forcing him back into her.

“It’s mine, right now,” she said.

“Maybe you are the jealous type?” said Malcolm, with a wink.

She was about to reply when he started thrusting, this time hard and fast. Rose let out a surprised squeal of pleasure, and then dug her hands back into the couch, overwhelmed by sensation.

Malcolm kept it up until she quivered and cried out, burying her face against his chest. He kept going, shifting and handling her body to get the best angle, until he found his own release. He let out a soft sigh, feeling the warmth of her body and enjoying the feel of finishing inside of her.

“I might… need to see you again,” said Rose. “In a couple of days. If that’s okay?”

It’s the only thing keeping her stable. Not that I’d say no, even if it was just sex.

“Of course,” said Malcolm. “We might have to work out a system. A secret way of leaving each other messages. Maybe meet up at a hotel instead of my apartment.”

Rose made an offended noise.

“You’re making it sound like I’m your mistress!” she said.

Malcolm chuckled, and then grew serious.

“We do have to be careful, though,” he said. “Not just for my sake. Rose, if Rain Dancer finds out that you’re still seeing me…”

“I know,” she said. “He’s volatile. And he’s not used to having subordinates with minds of their own.”

Malcolm gave Rose a squeeze. He wished that they had more time together.

“You should probably go soon,” he said.

“Right.” Rose kissed him on the cheek. “Be careful, Malcolm.”

“You too,” he said. “Rosalina.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You aren’t going to start calling me that all the time, are you?” she asked.

“Of course not,” said Malcolm. “Only when I feel like annoying you.”

She gave him an exaggerated glare. They stared at each other for another minute, until the idea of being enemies became too painful for either of them to bear. Malcolm stood up and walked into his bedroom, and Rose disappeared into the shadows of the hallway outside the apartment.

Malcolm had three missed calls on his phone, one from Multi and two from Tapestry. He called Multi back first, not looking forward to having to explain how the assignment at the church had gone.

“Wind Runner,” said Multi, skipping hello. “Report.”

“A monster was waiting for us at the church,” said Malcolm. “Melt and I tried to take it down but… something happened.”

“What?” Multi’s voice sounded tired, with a gruffness to it common to heavy smokers.

“Melt… pushed it too far with his powers,” said Malcolm. “He turned. I saw him transform into a demon, and barely escaped before he attacked me.”

Multi released a torrent of curses into the phone. He exhaled, and then the line went silent for a good ten seconds.

“Multi?” asked Malcolm. “You still there?”

Multi sighed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Melt was a damn good field champion. This is the worst possible outcome. With his power, he can slip right out of his stabilizer.”

I hadn’t even considered that…

“How did things go at the junkyard?” asked Malcolm.

“They didn’t fall for it,” said Multi. “Never showed. We’re back at headquarters now. Stay where you are currently, Wind Runner. I’ll send Tapestry out to bring you in.”

“Sure,” he said.

Multi hung up. Malcolm stared at the phone for a couple of seconds, considering Melt and his descent into darkness. Just how much of it was his fault for trying to stop the fight, instead of backing up his fellow champion?

What could I have done? Kill Rose? No… Not now, not ever.

CHAPTER 33

Malcolm’s apartment felt stuffy and confining. Despite Multi’s order to stay where he was, he found himself heading toward the door. He went outside and climbed into Melt’s truck, starting it up and heading down the street.

It started out on as an aimless drive, and ended with Malcolm parked outside a vacant lot in an old, abandoned residential neighborhood. It was where his family’s house had been, back before the Phenomenon had started and he’d lost his mother and Danny.

The rubble had been cleared away, leaving just an empty, pointless patch of dirt. Malcolm stood at the edge of it, thinking about his family. Both his mother and brother had graves at the local cemetery, but given that their bodies had never been found, coming home had more meaning for him.

Malcolm let his thoughts wander. He wondered what his mother would think of his mixed allegiances. She’d probably just be annoyed that he wasn’t already giving her grandkids. Malcolm smiled.

He thought of Danny, as the brother he’d known, and as the demon he’d fought against. Strangely, as Malcolm tried to picture Danny’s face in his head, he instead conjured up the face of the bank robber he’d let go.

Is it all tied together? Did I help Rose find her sister because it was the right thing to do, or because of my own family issues?

He considered for a minute whether it had been worth it, and decided that it had. Even if he’d lost Rose to the enemy, she’d always been free to make her own choices. And at least now, she had a sister, albeit one that was still a stranger to her.

A car rolled to a stop in the street next to Malcolm. He recognized Tapestry’s BMW immediately, but didn’t turn around. She got out and walked over to him, standing by his side.

“Stalker,” said Malcolm.

“Hey, I’m following orders,” said Tapestry. “And I don’t think this is what Multi meant when he told you to stay in one place.”

Malcolm sighed.

“How’d you find me?” he asked.

“Your stabilizer,” said Tapestry. “I had Anna give me your updated coordinates.”

Malcolm nodded.

“Is this… where your family’s old house was?” asked Tapestry.

“…Yeah,” he said.

He waited, expecting Tapestry to bring up Danny as an excuse to raise her suspicions from before. His brother had been a demon. It only made sense that she’d think his judgment might be clouded, and maybe it was.

“I’m sorry,” she said, after a few seconds. “Do you want some time alone?”

Malcolm shook his head. He turned to look at her. She had on her leather jacket, along with jeans and a pair of sunglasses.

“Did Multi already tell you about Melt?” he asked.

Tapestry shrugged.

“He told me a little,” said Tapestry.

Malcolm waited, sensing that she had more questions.

“Well,” he said. “Are you going to interrogate me for more information?”

Tapestry folded her arms, frowning at him slightly.

“No,” she said. “I’m not. I had a… long conversation with Melanie last night.”

“Ah,” said Malcolm. “The wise sage Melanie has given you advice.”

“She likes you,” said Tapestry. “And made it very clear that she thinks I’m being unfair to you and overly suspicious. She said I should give you space, and be a better friend.”

Malcolm grinned.

“And your way of giving me space is apparently stalking me,” he said. “Wow, you really took that advice to heart.”

Tapestry punched him in the shoulder hard enough to hurt. Malcolm laughed through the pain. Their eyes met, and they shared a moment.

I wish I could tell her everything. Maybe someday… but not now.

“Anyway,” said Tapestry. “Multi sent me to pick you up and bring you back.”

“I have Melt’s truck with me,” said Malcolm. “How about I follow you back to HQ?”

Tapestry lifted an eyebrow at that.

“You? Driving a truck?” She smiled. “That’s hard for me to picture…”

“Hey,” said Malcolm “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just, back in my day, the type of men who drove trucks were…”

She trailed off.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He had more time to think in the truck’s cab on the way back, and he wasn’t sure if he really needed it. Luckily, Melt had an aux cable hooked up to the stereo system, and Malcolm took advantage of it, blaring Everclear and Third Eye Blind out of the speakers.

He parked the truck on the grass, wondering if it would default to him, now that Melt was out of commission. He followed Tapestry in through the main entrance, and the two of them almost ran directly into Greenthumb.

“Hello, Aubrey,” said Greenthumb. “Might I have a moment alone with Malcolm?”

Tapestry nodded, sensing something serious in his tone.

“Of course,” she said. “Malcolm, report straight to Multi after.”

“Right,” he said.

Tapestry headed down the hallway toward the training rooms. Malcolm waited, sensing what the conversation was going to be about.

“Multi tells me that Melt… turned into a demon, during your encounter at the church.”

Malcolm nodded. Greenthumb’s expression was blank, without a trace of emotion. It made the thin man appear robotic, as though he felt no emotion over having just lost his partner.

“I’m sorry,” said Malcolm. “He… was so angry. We were fighting a monster that he just couldn’t find a way to beat. It was nothing that he, or I, did wrong.”

And so I start with the lies. It was my fault that Melt turned.

“Oh, of course not,” said Greenthumb. “I’ve known for a while now that Melt was at risk.”

“You have?” asked Malcolm.

Greenthumb smiled, but it was more a movement of muscle than something genuine.

“Melt has always been a rather volatile man,” said Greenthumb. “He… has a good heart. He truly does, but when combined with his emotions and personality… he was always getting in his own way.”

“He fought bravely, in the end,” said Malcolm.

Another lie. Melt quite literally stabbed me in the back.

“I’m sure he did,” said Greenthumb. “And he will fight bravely to the very end. When I find him.”

Greenthumb, as he often did, was carrying a small potted plant. He reached his fingers out and caressed one of the leaves.

“You’re going after him?” asked Malcolm. “You were his partner, though.”

“Yes,” said Greenthumb. “And that’s all the reason for me to be the one to put him down. It’s a shame, it truly is. But with Melt’s powers… well, let’s just say he can kill very effectively when he wants to.”

“What if…” Malcolm hesitated, thinking about his phrasing. “What if there’s some way to bring him back to reality? What if we trapped him, somehow, and tried to see if we could… I don’t know? Domesticate him?”

Greenthumb gave him a curious look.

“That’s a very odd thing to say,” said Greenthumb. “You should speak to Multi about your concerns.”

“I just think that it would be a better alternative,” said Malcolm. “Better than you having to kill your old partner.”

“It’s like I said before, Malcolm,” said Greenthumb. “I’ve had a strong suspicion that Melt would break eventually, for a while now. I have good sense of the kind of people that turn into monsters.”

He locked eyes with Malcolm, holding his gaze, dead silent. Malcolm felt a chill run down the length of his spine. He didn’t move.

“Anyway,” said Greenthumb, conversationally. “You should report in to Multi. Thanks for being open about what happened.”

“…Right,” said Malcolm.

He turned to head down the hallway toward the command center, and managed to take a single step before the entire building shook with the force of a massive impact.

CHAPTER 34

“We’re under attack!” shouted Greenthumb.

Malcolm took off down the hallway alongside his fellow champion. An alarm blared through the intercom overhead. Another explosion made the floor shake, and Malcolm had to call the wind to steady himself.

They burst through the doors into the command center and came to an immediate halt. Malcolm almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Rain Dancer stood off to one side in the room, head held high, electricity crackling across his body. His eyes had an intense white-blue gleam to them, and his dreadlocks danced through the air as if he was underwater.

Multi was still in his command seat, which he’d swiveled around to face the demon, instead of looking at his screens. Tapestry and Morph had come in through another door, but both quickly circled around to form a united front with Malcom and Greenthumb.

The ceiling had a massive hole in it, and the effect of it made the curved roof look like the retractable dome of a sports stadium. Malcolm glared at Rain Dancer, who seemed to be waiting until he had the full attention of the room before proceeding.

“Champions,” called the demon. “I am known as Rain Dancer. I am one of the star touched. I come here not to bring violence, but opportunity.”

Opportunity? Just like he gave to that defenseless boy, locked in his cell?

“Stand down,” said Rain Dancer. “Bring no violence against me, or any other of the chosen people you refer to as monsters. Accept your seeds, and inherit the hidden power within your gifts. Stop with all the pretending.”

Malcolm was watching Multi, waiting to see how he would react to the demon’s demands. The leader of Vanderbrook’s champions looked comfortable. Even without his copies to back him up, Multi’s expression was confident, and perhaps even a little bored. Rain Dancer was waiting, and seemed to decide after a few seconds to continue with his dramatic oration.

“Together, we will overthrow the hidden rulers of this world,” said Rain Dancer. “The shadow government! The illuminati! The deceitful scum of the world! They will all be brought into the light and removed from power. It’s only a matter of time, you know.”

Now there’s the unhinged conspiracy theorist I’ve come to know and love.

Multi finally reacted. He started a slow clap, drawing it out for effect, and even rising out of his chair as though giving a standing ovation.

“Really, Multi?” muttered Malcolm. Tapestry glanced over at him.

“It is a little over the top,” she whispered.

Multi finished clapping and furrowed his brow, staring Rain Dancer down.

“That was quite the speech,” he said. “Did you practice on the way over?”

From a purely visual standpoint, the two men could not have been more different. Multi was a short, chubby, balding redhead. Rain Dancer was a massive, muscular black man with long dreadlocks. But as far as Malcolm could tell, the intensity brewing in the air between them did not discriminate based on appearance.

“You should take my words seriously, ya?” said Rain Dancer. “I offer you an olive branch. A chance to keep your lives, and join me as brothers and sisters in the new world order.”

“I thought the NWO was another conspiracy theory?” asked Multi. “Hmm, no matter.”

Multi took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a few puffs.

“This is your last chance!” shouted Rain Dancer. “You hesitate because you sense my strength! You should trust the fear you’re feeling, and-”

“Do you know why it is that this base is so large?” asked Multi, cutting the demon off. “There are only a half dozen champions in Vanderbrook at any given time, and yet we have this massive base… Why do you think that is?”

“It does not matter why!” shouted Rain Dancer.

“The correct answer is, the same reason why I’ve been stalling you for the past minute.” Multi grinned. Next to Malcolm and the other champions, the floor shifted, sliding metal panels pulling back suddenly to reveal a hidden staircase.

Rain Dancer crackled with electricity. He shot a burst of lightning at Multi. Multi ducked behind his chair in time to avoid it. He stood halfway, gesturing for Malcolm and the others to stay where they were.

“They’ve been kept in cryo stasis, so they’ll be a little groggy,” said Multi. “But they’re fully equipped, fully trained, and fully aware that the only time I’d pull them out of storage is if and when our base came under attack.”

As if on cue, a company of Multis began charging up the stairs, fanning out as they came into the command center. Each of them wore body armor and a helmet, and carried an assault rifle. They ran in formation, all of them keeping their guns trained on Rain Dancer from the moment he came into their view.

Malcolm had been expecting perhaps a dozen or so Multis. There were easily close to a hundred, separated into three divisions, two of them flanking Rain Dancer, and the third standing to shield Malcolm and the other champions.

“Now,” said the original Multi. “Shall we start this conversation over again?”

Rain Dancer let out a roar and unleashed a blast of lightning at the group of Multis trying to sneak around behind him. The one in the lead took the brunt of the attack, convulsing for several seconds before bursting into flames.

Gunfire echoed through the room as several dozen Multis opened fire. Rain Dancer’s electricity extended out around him in an electromagnetic shield, either deflecting or redirecting the bullets, some of them hitting friendly targets.

Malcolm dropped low to the ground, glancing over at his fellow champions. Anna was nowhere to be seen. Greenthumb had smashed his potted tree on the floor, and powerful roots were tearing through the metal to reach the Earth below. Tapestry met Malcolm’s gaze and nodded.

“We have to hang back for now!” she shouted. “If we try to help, we’ll only just get in-”

A grenade exploded in the space where Rain Dancer had just been standing, destroying part of the wall of the command center, but missing the demon by a few feet. One of the Multis pulled his arm back to launch another. Rain Dancer struck it with electricity before it left the man’s hand, blowing him up and the three Multis clustered nearby.

This isn’t a fight. This is war.

“Fools!” yelled Rain Dancer. “You will all die!”

He deflected a barrage of bullets into another group of Multis. Already, at least half of the copies were no longer in a state to fight against Rain Dancer, and the demon was taking sadistic pleasure in finishing off the wounded, even as he fended off the rest.

“We can’t wait any longer!” Malcom yelled to Tapestry. She’d picked up a rifle from a fallen Multi and was already staring down the sight at Rain Dancer.

Malcolm ran in a crouch, pushing himself forward with the wind and hurrying around to Rain Dancer’s blindside. One of the Multis tried attacking with another grenade. It made it into the air before Rain Dancer hit it with lightning, exploding it overhead and blowing a hole in the wall nearest to Malcolm. He tried not to shake off how close he’d just come to dying as he prepared to attack.

A hawk swooped in, scraping claws across Rain Dancer’s face. It was Anna, in her transformed state. Rain Dancer screamed in annoyance and blasted out his lightning, knocking her across the room and back into human form.

Malcolm launched himself forward, taking advantage of Anna’s distraction. He managed to get in close and slam his fist into Rain Dancer’s stomach. Rain Dancer, however, was strong even disregarding his powers. The demon immediately countered with a hard elbow to Malcolm’s jaw, followed by a burst of lightning.

Malcolm felt pain explode across his body as he tumbled back across the floor. He lifted his head up, watching as the battle continued. The remaining Multis were trying to pull their numbers into a single unit. Tapestry was running up the stairs to the second level, presumably to find a spot to snipe from.

Greenthumb was wearing a tree. Malcolm blinked in disbelief, his eyes focusing on the details and taking a moment to comprehend what they were seeing. Greenthumb had expanded the tiny potted plant he’d been carrying into a massive, intricately twisted, living body of wood.

It looked like the result of a god twisting a tree into the shape of a giant, leaving a small space in the center for a human to fit inside of. Leaves adorned his head in place of hair. Massive, knots composed the hands, with roots for fingers. It moved far faster than Malcolm would have imagined, the branches creaking from the strain.

Greenthumb descended on Rain Dancer, the demon looking like a child up against a giant. He smashed one of his tree trunk arms into Rain Dancer, knocking him across the room. Rain Dancer’s lightning shot out against the metal wall behind him, somehow slowing him and preventing serious injury as he collided with it.

“A tree?” shouted Rain Dancer. “Lightning is made to destroy trees!”

He blasted a single strike of intense lightning at Greenthumb’s tree body, exploding a section of the wood and lighting it on fire. Greenthumb shook himself from side to side, knocking loose a cloud of leaves which flew toward Rain Dancer, creating a distraction.

Tapestry began opening fire with the rifle. Rain Dancer let out a howl of pain as one of the bullets grazed across his shoulder. The remaining Multis joined in with their rifles. Rain Dancer let out a wordless bellow and unleashed a massive, spherical wave of lightning, knocking Malcolm back and breaking Greenthumb’s tree armor into splinters.

Malcolm rose to his knees, his head pounding. Black stars danced across his vision. Rain Dancer was walking slowly across the floor of the command center, electrocuting the wounded Multis with the same casual efficiency a housewife might use to vacuum the floor.

Greenthumb was struggling to stand, leaves and vines wrapping around his arms and legs to prop up his wounded body. Tapestry and Anna were nowhere to be seen, and neither was the original Multi.

If we give up now, we die!

Malcolm stood to his feet. He leapt into the air, flying upward for a moment before letting himself fall toward Rain Dancer feet first, in a drop kick.

“Fool,” said Rain Dancer.

The lightning hit him and ejected him up and out of the hole in the roof of the command center.

CHAPTER 35

Malcolm managed to focus his powers enough to cushion his fall, but only just barely. He landed in the parking lot outside of headquarters and tumbled for a few feet, feeling his skin scraping against the gravel.

He groaned, and sat to find that he wasn’t alone outside the compound. Shield Maiden stood no more than five feet away from him, just as shocked by his sudden appearance as he was.

“Wind Runner…” she said, slowly.

Malcolm was still amped on adrenaline from the battle inside, and moved faster than she did. He leapt toward her with the wind, managing to get his hand on her wrist before she could encapsulate him in a bubble shield.

He felt the tingle that meant that he’d absorbed her power and almost groaned. Tapestry’s regeneration would serve him better in a fight to the death.

Hold on… Wait a second.

He took a step back from Shield Maiden and quickly called on her power, putting a bubble around her before she could do the same to him. Malcolm waited for a couple of seconds, wondering if she’d have control over the shield, given that he’d made it using her power.

“Let me out of here!” came Shield Maiden’s muffled voice. “You idiot! That’s… how did you do that?”

“We all have our secrets,” said Malcolm. “Hang tight for a couple of minutes.”

He turned back toward headquarters, his body aching at the idea of rejoining the fight. He pushed his exhaustion aside and jumped into the air, using the wind in a directed burst to lift him up to the dome’s roof.

Malcolm dropped back in through the same hole he’d been knocked out of. The situation inside was even more dire than it had been before he’d been ejected. The Multis were dead or dying. Greenthumb was lying on his back, unconscious or dead, with a terrified looking Anna crouched over him.

Rain Dancer was torturing Tapestry, shocking her with the full might of his electric power. He laughed as her skin melted from the intensity of the electricity, her regeneration trying to heal and failing against the onslaught.

“Surprise!” shouted Malcolm. He used Shield Maiden’s power, trapping Rain Dancer in a shield bubble before the demon even noticed his return.

“What… is this?” shouted Rain Dancer. “Shield Maiden!”

“No,” said Malcolm. “Just me.”

“How?” screeched Rain Dancer.

“Sometimes it’s handy to keep the full extent of your powers under wraps.”

He glanced around. Anna wasn’t paying attention to anything other than Greenthumb. There wasn’t a single Multi left standing. It was tragic, but it also meant that Malcolm could hopefully go a while longer without having to reveal his power mimicry to his allies.

Which is good… But what happens now?

Rain Dancer was unleashing the full brunt of his lightning power against the inner shell of the shield bubble, and it was having a clear effect. The color of the shield was changing, shifting from an opaque rainbow hue into something clearer and less substantial.

“Oh, come on,” muttered Malcolm.

The shield wasn’t going to hold him. Malcolm had played his final card and come up short. As soon as Rain Dancer was free, he’d mop up any resistance that remained, which at the moment, appeared to be just Malcolm.

“Drop… him…” Tapestry’s voice was frail. She looked terrible, like a burn victim past the point of hope.

“What?” asked Malcolm.

“From… the sky…” managed Tapestry.

Malcolm understood in an instant. He took hold of the shield bubble, surprised by how it seemed to be as light as a feather, even with the weight of Rain Dancer inside of it.

“What are you doing?” screamed Rain Dancer. “I will destroy you!”

“Hate to burst your bubble, but not today,” said Malcolm. He hoisted the shield bubble over his head and leapt into the air, pushing himself into the sky with the wind.

He used the method that Shield Maiden had taught him, slowly launching himself upward with quick, intense bursts of air. It felt a little like performing a double jump in a video game, except he just kept going, rising fifty or so feet each time.

From above, Malcolm could see the extent of the damage that their headquarters had taken. Fire was spreading across one side, and the hole in the roof was allowing smoke and air to flow and feed the flames.

There would be nothing left in a couple of hours other than a collapsed ruin of metal and cinders. Malcolm knew that the only way Tapestry and the others would get out alive was if he made it back in time to help evacuate.

He rose even higher, watching as the trees and cars surround their base turned into little, insignificant dots. The air was cold, and chilled his hands and face until he could barely feel any sensation left. Malcolm grimaced as he passed through a cloud, his clothes soaking instantly.

He kept pushing himself higher and higher into the sky until it got hard for him to breathe, and he was positive that the fall would kill anything, super powered or not. Rain Dancer had gone silent. Malcolm considered what his last words to the demon should be.

“Well…” he said. “This is goodbye, I guess.”

Rain Dancer didn’t react. Malcolm didn’t have time to wait any longer. He tossed the shield bubble away from him, like a volleyball across a net, and then disintegrated it. Rain Dancer fell like a rock… for the first few feet.

He froze in midair, appearing to shoot up as Malcolm began his own descent. Then, he hurtled toward Malcolm with his arms extended, flying through the air as naturally as a bird, or a plane. Rain Dancer’s hands closed around Malcolm’s neck, and he grinned as he began to choke him.

“What…?” coughed Malcolm. “How?”

“Sometimes it’s handy to keep the full extent of your powers under wraps, you know?” said Rain Dancer.

His hands crackled with electricity. Pain surged through every inch of Malcolm’s nervous system. Rain Dancer threw him into the air, and Malcolm began to drop, picking up speed as gravity did its thing.

He couldn’t call his powers immediately, not after having Rain Dancer short circuit them through Malcolm’s weakness. The first few seconds of Malcolm’s fall were the most terrifying of his life, up to that point. He screamed wordlessly and windmilled his arms, knowing that it would do little good.

By the time he could summon the wind again, the ground was coming up on him fast. He only barely managed to cushion his fall, landing in an undignified heap in a field a half mile from headquarters.

Rain Dancer descended next to him, gracefully touching down on both feet. Malcolm tried to sit up. Lightning danced over his body, forcing a scream out of him and killing any hope he had left.

“I won’t give you another chance to trap me in a shield,” said Rain Dancer. “You can be sure about that, ya?”

He shocked Malcolm again, and then let out a sigh.

“Wind Runner,” he said. “I thought we could be friends. Not right at first, but we brought you down to Underworld. You seemed like a funny guy, you know? Friends with a spryte, even though you were a champion…”

“We could still… be friends,” said Malcolm. His throat was dry and he had to force the words out. “Let’s start with a trust building exercise. Me… trusting you… not to kill me.”

“Funny.” Rain Dancer shocked him again. “Like I said.”

Just… one more step.

“It was worth it being disappointed by you to meet Rose, though,” said Rain Dancer, flashing a dirty grin. “Mmm, mmm, mmm, am I ever going to enjoy getting to know her better! Anything I should know in advance before pushing in? Any little tricks she likes? Kinky turn ons?”

Rain Dancer took another step. Malcolm shot his hand out, slipping it under the demon’s pant leg and holding tight to his ankle. Rain Dancer let out an amused laugh and let the lightning crackle through his hands. Malcolm felt the tingle, and knew that he had exactly what he wanted.

“Her biggest turnoff is people who underestimate their opponents.”

Malcolm pushed both his palms outward, shooting as much lightning as he could muster into Rain Dancer’s chest. It was enough to knock the demon back a few feet, but it didn’t appear to do any actual damage, at least not physically. The expression on Rain Dancer’s face was one of confusion and outrage, and Malcolm savored it.

“I know,” said Malcolm. “You must be so shocked right now? Get it? Do you get the pun, Rain Dancer?”

“You are nothing!” Rain Dancer blasted lightning out at Malcolm, two or three times as much as Malcolm had sent his way. Malcolm caught the blast by meeting it with his own electrical burst, and both of them stood, pushing back and forth, neither of them upsetting the stalemate.

“I’m a champion,” said Malcolm. “I’m Wind Runner, bitch!”

“You can’t beat me with my own power!” shouted Rain Dancer. “It doesn’t work like that, you. Sooner or later, I’ll get close to you again, and we’ll see who wins in a fair fight.”

Malcolm sent a sideways burst of electricity through a nearby tree, causing it to explode into flaming bits of splinter. He caught a few dozen with a gust of wind and hurled them at Rain Dancer while the demon’s attention was still on pushing with his lightning.

“I don’t fight fair,” said Malcolm.

Most of the wood shards only scratched at Rain Dancer’s shoulders. A few he managed to knock away with lightning, but he hadn’t been expecting to have to deal with Malcolm on two fronts at once. A splinter of wood with a pencil like point took him directly in the left eye, and the demon let out a howl of pain and fell to his knees.

“My… eye…” Rain Dancer reached up, not daring to bring his fingers in close to the piece of wood lodged through the surface of his cornea.

Malcolm was already preparing a spear like shaft of broken wood to deliver the finishing blow. He understood the champion’s policy on killing monsters more clearly than he ever had before. It made things simple, even if it was brutal, and often undeservingly applied.

He spun the makeshift spear around so its point was facing Rain Dancer. The demon saw what was coming through his good eye and leapt into the air, taking flight toward the horizon. Malcolm considered going after him, and then remembered the rest of his friends back at the dome.

It’s not worth risking their lives, even if I’ll have to face him again later.

CHAPTER 36

The Champion Authority’s Vanderbrook headquarters was in complete ruin. Flames had completely engulfed the building. Malcolm took a deep breath and risked going in through the hole in the roof, descending into the inferno.

It was hard to see through the smoke and flames but Malcolm spotted his fellow champions in the hall and immediately went to aid them. Anna was dragging Greenthumb across the floor. Tapestry was still unconscious, and Malcolm was surprised to see Wax struggling to lift her up.

“I’ll carry Tapestry!” said Malcolm, yelling to be heard over the sound of the fire.

Wax nodded. He tried to say something, but could only manage a cough in response.

Their escape was a race against time. Malcolm used his wind manipulation to carefully redirect the smoke from their faces. All they needed to do was make it down the hallway and out the front entrance, but the walls, and even the floor in places, were on fire.

They made it to the door after what felt like an odyssey through hell. The electronics that controlled the door opening mechanism weren’t functioning. Anna started screaming as it refused to respond to her inputs.

Malcolm walked over, set his hand against it, and gave it a focused electrical burst. The door opened, and the champions burst out into the open air, coughing up smoke as they tasted the fresh air.

They kept going until they were next to the cars parked on the grass. Tapestry’s BMW was unharmed, as were Anna, Greenthumb, and Multi’s rides. Melt’s truck had taken a metal beam through the windshield at some point, and was in no state to be driven.

Malcolm sat down next to Tapestry, who was still unconscious and in the process of regenerating. Her face was fully healed, but serious burns ran up her arms and chest. It was taking her longer than Malcolm ever remembered it taking her before, and his concern for her was almost overwhelming.

“What do we do now?” asked Anna. She directed the question at Wax, though it took the bald Multi several seconds to realize he was supposed to answer.

“Uh…” Wax shrugged. “That’s a good question.”

“But…” said Anna. “You’re a Multi, aren’t you? You should know the main Multi’s backup plan in case of the base being attacked.”

“I’m Wax,” said Wax. “While technically I am a copy of Multi, I haven’t been him, in a sense, for almost five years. He was the one who gave the orders… And now those monsters have him.”

“Wait, what?” said Malcolm.

“I saw them capture Alpha,” said Wax. “The original Multi.”

Malcolm frowned. He was cradling Tapestry’s head, and she let out a small cough. Several locks of hair had come loose from her pony tail, and he brushed one of them out of her soot stained face.

“What does that mean?” asked Anna. “If they have Multi…”

“Best case scenario is that they interrogate him and learn most of the Champion Authority’s secrets,” said Wax. “Including information about all of your weaknesses and every other champion that Multi knows about.”

“How is that the best case scenario?” asked Malcolm.

Wax’s expression darkened.

“The worst case scenario, Wind Runner, is that they manage to do to Multi what they’ve already done to Melt,” said Wax. “Turn him into a demon. Think about what that would mean, given his power.”

An infinite army, under the command of Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden.

Malcolm exhaled slowly. He shook his head.

“We have to do something,” he said. “We can’t let that happen.”

“All we can do now is bide our time and try to regain our strength,” said Wax. “It’ll be better if we split into groups to avoid drawing too much attention to ourselves.”

“Greenthumb needs a doctor,” said Anna. “I don’t think he’s in danger of… dying, but he needs medical attention.”

“So the two of you should head to the hospital,” said Wax. “And Wind Runner, do you have somewhere to go with Tapestry?”

“Her house?” asked Malcolm. “She has a… family member, who is probably already starting to worry about her.”

“That’ll do,” said Wax.

“What about you?” asked Malcolm.

Wax smiled.

“I’m going to get in touch with Savior,” said Wax. “He needs to know about what’s transpired here.”

Malcolm drove Tapestry home in her BMW. Melanie was waiting at the door and helped him get her inside, her worry manifesting as an overwhelming barrage of words and questions.

“How did this happen?” she asked. “The base was attacked? By what? Tapestry said that your base is impenetrable? What could have done this? Was it a monster? I swear, if it shows up here, I’ll fight too! Nobody hurts Aubrey and gets away with it!”

“Melanie,” said Malcolm. “It’s okay. She’ll recover.”

Malcolm helped get her into her room, and then brought a towel and some warm water to Melanie so that he could get her cleaned up. He headed to the bathroom, noticing for the first time the damage Rain Dancer’s electricity had done to his clothing.

It’s my favorite shirt. Well… given what I did to his eye, I guess we’re kind of even.

He’d left the door open a crack, and a shadow flickered in the periphery of his vision. Malcolm tensed up, feeling a rush of conflicting emotions as he opened the door.

“It’s just me,” said Melanie. “I need a few more towels. Are you okay, Malcolm? You look surprised…”

“Uh, yeah…” he said. “I’m just… tired.”

“You can put on your music in the living room, if you want,” said Melanie. “Are you planning on staying the night? I can’t cook as well as Aubrey, but I can make something for us. We can even open a bottle of wine! Don’t tell Aubrey though, she’s still mad at me for drinking her booze last time.”

“I’ll stay for a while,” said Malcolm. “It’s probably better if I stick around, at least until she wakes up.”

He passed Melanie her towels and closed the door before she could start on another tangent. Malcolm sighed. He was tired, both physically and emotionally.

Rose… What’s going to happen the next time we meet?

CHAPTER 37

“I’ll kill him! He… is a dead man!”

Rain Dancer smashed his fist through a table in the meeting chamber of Underworld. His anger manifested in uncontrolled static sparks through his hair and along his body. He kept one hand over his newly bandaged eye, massaging the area around the socket.

“I won’t let you kill him,” said Rose. She stood off to the side, next to Shield Maiden. They hadn’t told her about the attack on the champion’s base until after it had happened. They still didn’t trust her, and maybe for good reason.

“You would pick a champion over me?” roared Rain Dancer. “A pathetic, sniveling wretch!”

He whirled on Rose. She summoned her shadow tendrils, wrapping one of them around his neck before he could take a step in her direction.

“Does that answer your question?” asked Rose.

Rain Dancer snarled. Shield Maiden slowly moved to position herself in between the two of them.

“There is no point to fighting amongst ourselves,” she said. “Rain… please. Think about all that we’ve gained from this attack.”

“Think about what I’ve lost,” shouted Rain Dancer. “My fucking eye!”

“We captured their leader,” said Shield Maiden. “The one they call Multi. This is not one of the copies, either. He’s wearing the same outfit you said the one giving the orders had on.”

Rain Dancer let out a huff and relaxed slightly.

“And on top of that,” continued Shield Maiden, “We’ve secured another powerful new ally. Why don’t we go check in on him, and see if he’s ready to be sociable?”

She started walking down the hallway toward the containment cells. Rose followed her on one side, and Rain Dancer kept pace a few steps behind them.

“I still think it was foolish of you to bring him here,” said Rose. “He’s too volatile, and that makes him dangerous.”

“He’s like us,” said Shield Maiden. “He’ll settle down in time, and we’ll have a powerful new weapon to use against the champions.”

“You’ll never be able to trust him,” said Rose. “Not with his… past loyalties.”

“Only time will tell.” Shield Maiden stopped outside the door. She looked toward Rain Dancer, as though allowing him the chance to take charge, if he wanted.

“I will speak with him first,” said Rain Dancer.

He walked over to the door, undoing a series of heavy dead bolts before reaching for the handle. It was the most secure cell they had, and even then, Rose had expressed her doubts over whether they’d be able to hold their captive for very long, once he recovered enough strength to use his powers.

Rain Dancer had barely opened the door a fraction of an inch when a fireball struck it on the other side, knocking all three of them back. Rose coughed and managed to sit up in time to see Danny, Malcolm’s brother, striding out of the holding cell.

“About fucking time,” said Danny. “Boring as hell in there. So… you guys got any beer in this place?”

“You…” Shield Maiden shook her head slowly. “How?”

“The lightbulb, sugar tits,” he said. “Those give off more heat than you’d think. Though I don’t understand why you thought you could hold me in the first place!”

Danny laughed like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. He looked at Rain Dancer, wincing as he saw the bandage over the demon’s eye. Then, his gaze settled on Rose.

“No shit,” he said. “You’re the one who tried to fucking kill me. I can’t exactly die from fire, in case you didn’t realize.”

“Apparently not,” muttered Rose.

Danny whistled as he eyed her up and down.

“You’re hot as fuck, and I know a few things about heat,” he said. “Damn, my little brother is a lucky son of a bitch! If I wasn’t such a nice older brother… Well, it’s probably better if I don’t finish that sentence.”

Danny moved past them and started down the hall.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” shouted Rain Dancer, staggering to his feet.

Danny laughed.

“I already told you,” he said. “First I’m going to find some fucking beer. Then… I think I need to go have a nice heart to heart with my little brother.”

He continued down the hallway into the main chamber. Rain Dancer glared at Shield Maiden, who looked completely stunned.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why… wouldn’t he want to join us?”

Rose grinned.

“I think it runs in the family.”

Jade Portal

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

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

CHAPTER 1

Malcolm opened the door to his apartment and stared into the face of his dead brother on the other side. Danny grinned at him, his brow furrowing slightly in anticipation.

“You…” whispered Malcolm.

He stepped back, fear surging through his chest as he considered his situation. He was standing a few feet away from one of the most powerful demons he’d encountered in his time as a champion. One that he, along with his partner and a good natured spryte, had killed, or at least, so he’d thought.

He’s here for revenge. And once he’s done with me… he’ll go after them.

Malcolm balled his hands into fists. He wasn’t going to let Danny kill him without a fight. He was Wind Runner, one of the few remaining heroes in what was left of his small town.

He had his wind manipulation, along with power mimicry, a rare, uncontrolled ability that allowed him to absorb a single power from other champions. At the moment, he had the ability to regenerate meaning that any wounds Danny inflicted would immediately begin to heal.

Malcolm remembered the way that his brother had tortured Tapestry and grimaced at the realization that her borrowed power would only postpone an incredibly painful death at the hands of his older brother.

“You look like you just saw a fucking ghost,” said Danny. “Oh shit! I forgot. You didn’t know.”

“Didn’t… know what?” asked Malcolm. He angled himself slightly in relation to the door, trying to make himself a smaller target. Fighting inside his apartment or the hallway leading to it was a horrible idea, and Malcolm wondered if it would be better to retreat out one of his windows and lead Danny somewhere less destructible.

“You tried to kill me with an explosion,” said Danny. “Doesn’t work when it hits me from outside my body, bro. I can travel into external heat sources. I don’t blame you for not knowing, but you and your friends started celebrating way too fucking early.”

Malcolm nodded slowly, but was barely tuned into the conversation. His partner, Tapestry, had given him a small .22 pistol a couple of days earlier. It was for protection, given that that the current state of Vanderbrook was anything but safe for champions in the public eye. He didn’t have it on him. It was in his room, under his bed, unloaded.

Thwarted by my own attention to safety protocol. Awesome.

“Danny,” Malcolm said, keeping his voice even. “If you’re going to do this, let’s at least take it somewhere else, and keep other people from getting hurt.”

He reached out with the wind, feeling as it responded to the call. There were limits to its offensive capabilities, but it was still a useful tool. Malcolm had learned to move quicker with it and expand his awareness out further, reacting to small vibrations in the air and giving himself an extra edge in combat.

“What?” Danny frowned at him and shook his head. “Shit, bro, you got me all wrong. Look… I came here… you know.”

Danny shifted awkwardly, looking away from the apartment door and down the hallway.

“I’ve been fucked up lately,” said Danny.

Malcolm blinked, slowly shaking his head.

“You murdered people, Danny,” he said. “Dozens. Probably closer to hundreds. You killed mom!”

She’d been his first victim, from what Malcolm was able to piece together. On Day One of the Phenomenon, when people had first begun to discover their superpowers, or “gifts”, Danny had been one of a small percentage immediately unable to control their superpowers properly. He’d blown up their family home, with Laura Caldwell still inside.

“Shit, I know, Malcolm,” said Danny. He sighed and looked away. “Look, can I come in for a bit? So we have a chance to sit down and you know… talk?”

“Why would you think that I’d just… let you into my apartment?” asked Malcolm. “After everything that you’ve done.”

Danny shrugged.

“I don’t know,” said Danny. “I guess cause… you’re my brother. My memory is all fucked up, but I remember things about you. About how you were to people. To me. And how many times you gave me another chance.”

Malcolm started to shake his head no. Danny held up a finger.

“Also, I brought beer,” he said, holding up a cheap six pack he’d been hiding behind his back.

“Oh goody,” said Malcolm, rolling his eyes. “That certainly changes everything.”

He stepped to the side and gestured for Danny to come in, even as most of his instincts screamed out in warning or anger. Trusting his brother again, in any capacity, was somewhere between a bad idea and the worst idea. Danny was a killer, and not just an accidental one, either.

He murdered people in cold blood during our last fight.

Danny held a beer out to him. Malcolm hesitated for a second, and then accepted it.

“I’m sorry,” said Danny, his voice coming out raspy, and whispered. “Malcolm, I am so fucking sorry. I remember the things I’ve done. And…”

Danny closed his eyes. He took his own beer and pressed it against his forehead, as though the cold perspiration of the glass bottle could counteract all the damage he’d done with his powers.

“Danny…” Malcolm shook his head, wanting to scream and yell, but forcing himself to hold back. His brother’s apology changed nothing. But, it was a step up from having him rampage around the city, blowing up houses and torching traffic.

The two of them drank in silence for a minute, Danny finishing his first beer and opening a second. Malcolm hadn’t forgiven his brother, and still felt an enormous amount of rage. Now, it just felt like there was nowhere for it to go. He didn’t hate Danny anymore. He pitied him.

“I saw one of your girlfriends the other day,” said Danny.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“The shadow spryte,” said Danny. “She’s working with other monsters now, Malcolm. They’re led by some dreadlock punk named Rain Dancer.”

Malcolm exhaled through his teeth and sipped his beer. Danny was talking about Rose, the mysterious and beautiful spryte who’d entered his life and left it just as quickly. Malcolm knew she’d formed an alliance with Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden, the two de facto rulers of the monsters in the area, now that the Champion Authority’s base had been destroyed. It wasn’t something he liked to think about.

“When?” asked Malcolm. “And… where?”

“They captured me,” said Danny. “Held me somewhere underground. Fucking idiots thought that they could get me to work with them or something. It sounds like they’ve worked out their own crazy philosophy thing. Not my cup of tea!”

“Do you remember where their base was?” asked Malcolm.

“In the sewers, somewhere,” said Danny. “I didn’t pay much attention. Too pissed off about the smell on my way out.”

Malcolm shook his head, unsure of what to make of that. The last couple of days had been hell for him and the rest of the champions in Vanderbrook.

Multi, the leader of the Vanderbrook champions, had been taken prisoner by Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden. To make matters worse, the growing “monster rights” movement that had sprung up on the internet had turned Vanderbrook into a place where sprytes and demons walked freely through the city without concern for repercussion.

The police tended to look the other way, when to do otherwise often meant certain death. It was only a small comfort to know that his brother had refused to work with the enemy, given that it also meant that Rain Dancer was still actively recruiting.

“Danny, why did you come here?” asked Malcolm.

“To apologize,” said Danny.

Malcolm stared at him.

“You’re my brother, Danny,” he said. “I know you. If you just wanted to apologize, you would have done that and then left. Tell me what you want.”

Malcolm felt an edge entering his voice. He was still mad at Danny, and fully aware of just how much blood his brother had on his hands. Malcolm would listen to what he had to say, since he was technically still his brother, and had come in peace. But that was it.

Sure. Just like with Rose, and how I only helped her back on her feet. Right…

“You’re really mad at me, aren’t you?” asked Danny.

Malcolm didn’t feel the need to answer that question.

“Reminds me of the time that I banged Cynthia Wheeler,” said Danny. “Remember that shit? You were in love with her little sister, Maggie?”

“I wasn’t…” Malcolm scowled and rolled his eyes. “I had a crush on her, that’s it.”

“You were obsessed with her,” said Danny, grinning. “And then I went and fucked things up by breaking her older sister’s heart. Their whole family turned against us… not really fair for you.”

“Danny, that was half a decade ago,” said Malcolm.

“I know.” Danny glanced to the side, and then leaned in conspiratorially. “Just so you know… You didn’t miss out on much. Cynthia had really weird nipples. Probably her little sister did, too. That shit runs in the family.”

Malcolm had to fight to keep from smiling. He shook his head.

“Enough,” he said. “Why are you here, Danny? Get to the point.”

Danny shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He picked up another beer and offered it to Malcolm, who refused.

“I… need money,” said Danny.

Malcolm blinked.

Time is a flat circle.

CHAPTER 2

“You have got to be kidding me,” said Malcolm.

“Look, just hear me out,” said Danny. “With the way things are right now… I might have a chance.”

“A chance for what?” Malcolm paced the floor of his living room, feeling his annoyance build. “To fleece your little brother out of a few hundred dollars? You’re like… a caricature of yourself, Danny!”

“It’d be closer to a thousand,” said Danny, quietly. “But hold on, just listen for a second.”

He reached down and lifted the six pack, wiggling it in the air. Malcolm shook his head.

“Am I supposed to guess your meaning from this?” he asked. “Beer? You’re planning on… investing in beer?”

“I have beer,” said Danny. “I was able to go into a store and buy beer. One of the small Korean owned convenience stores on Denlaw Street. My point is, look at the way the city is right now.”

“It’s chaos,” said Malcolm. “People are scared, Danny. Monsters are running around in broad daylight, and nobody can do a thing about it.”

He scowled, sipping on his beer and remembering how easily Rain Dancer had trashed the Champion Authority HQ.

“Fuck, Malcolm,” said Danny. “I don’t disagree with that. But, this is also a chance for me. I could maybe get away from all this. I found someone willing to rent me a cabin, more of a shack, really. Outside of town, away from people.”

Malcolm paused.

Away from people. Where he hopefully wouldn’t hurt anyone if he had an episode.

“Why do you deserve a second chance?” asked Malcolm.

“I don’t.” Danny chuckled like it was a joke. “I don’t know… It’s either this or nothing. Or I guess, if you really don’t think I deserve a second chance, then you could still give me the money and I could just drink myself to death?”

“Or I could not give you the money and not care,” said Malcolm. “I’m leaving all my options on the table.”

Danny nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, which left Malcolm time to consider just how shitty a situation his brother was putting him in. He would feel the weight of so many deaths on his hands if Danny became Hothead again and started killing without restraint.

Then again, if Malcolm gave him the money, he would have to scramble just to make rent that month. He’d been paying for his apartment with a fund he’d set up shortly after his mother’s death, and it was running dangerously low. Malcolm had been counting on his salary as a champion to make ends meet, but with the local headquarters destroyed, he wasn’t sure where his next paycheck would be coming from.

“Fine,” said Malcolm, with a sigh. “But you have to promise me that you will never kill anyone again. I’m not giving this money to you as a kind brother. I’m giving it to you in exchange for services.”

“And the service is not killing people?” asked Danny, voice sober.

“…Yeah.” Malcolm shrugged. “People have spent money on worse things.” He walked into his bedroom. “Is a check okay?” he asked, sarcastically.

“Actually, yeah,” said Danny. “One of the banks is advertising the fact that monsters are welcome through its doors now. Can you fucking believe that? A week with the champions gone and it’s a different world.”

“The champions aren’t gone,” said Malcolm. “Just… biding their time.”

Malcolm found his checkbook, signed a check, and pushed it into Danny’s hand.

“Thanks, little bro,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I’ll pay you back if I can, I swear.”

Malcolm massaged his temples.

“Pay me back by never showing your face around here again.” He locked eyes with Danny, glaring at him slightly.

Danny chuckled as though it were a joke.

“Righto, bucko,” he said. “I guess that’s my signal to fuck off. Mind if I take the rest of the beers?”

“Just… get out,” said Malcolm.

Danny nodded to him. He slipped the check into his pocket, picked up what remained of the six pack, and slipped out into the hallway. Malcolm closed the door as soon as he was out of sight and leaned his back against it.

Why the hell did I just do that?

Malcolm walked over to the couch and sat down on it. He still had a little beer left in the bottle he’d been drinking from. He sipped at it, trying to parse through his interaction with Danny, and whether there was any hope of his brother turning over a new leaf.

A couple of minutes went by. Malcolm turned on his PS4, too annoyed to think about his brother any longer. Another knock came at the door just as he was getting in-game and he swore under his breath as he paused it and stood up.

“I told you,” Malcolm said, swinging the door open. “I never want to see…”

He’d been expecting his brother. Instead, a petite blonde woman stood in the hallway, her emerald eyes sharp and alert. She wore a brown leather jacket over a white blouse and jeans, an outfit that showcased her trim figure and modest curves.

“See what?” asked Tapestry. “Expecting somebody else?”

Malcolm winced.

“I got into an argument with the pizza guy earlier,” he lied. “Over his tip.”

“Really?” Tapestry brushed past him and into his apartment. “Where’s the pizza?”

Malcolm gestured to the box on his kitchen counter, which he’d ordered late last night. There were still a few slices left, if Tapestry insisted on more proof. He frowned and closed the door, considering his fellow champion as she surveyed his apartment.

Tapestry had been suspicious of Malcolm almost since his first day as a champion. She was one of the few people who knew about his secondary ability, which let him absorb the powers of other champions, oftentimes her power.

She’d been there during the fight with Hothead, and knew that the demon was actually Malcolm’s brother, Danny. She also knew that he had other secrets, things that he kept even from her, and it fed her suspicions of him, though they were still on friendly terms.

“Are you expecting to find a dead body in my apartment, Tapestry?” asked Malcolm. “Maybe a couple of kilos of coke lying around?”

She shot him an indecipherable look and continued on, stopping in front of his bedroom door.

“May I?” she asked.

Malcolm grinned.

“Far be it for me to stop a beautiful woman from entering my bedroom,” he said. “Here, I can give you a demonstration of the softness of my bed.”

Tapestry glared at him. She opened his bedroom door for long enough to take stock of what was on the other side, and then closed it firmly.

“You aren’t as funny as you think you are,” she said.

“I think you just have an old-fashioned sense of humor,” said Malcolm.

Tapestry’s mouth dropped open, surprise and offense evident in her expression. Malcolm kept smiling, though he knew he’d just made exactly the wrong kind of joke.

Despite appearing to be in her late teens or early twenties, Tapestry was far older. She was 98, and kept eternally youthful as a side effect of her regeneration power.

“Thanks for proving my point,” she said.

“Oh, come on, Tapestry,” said Malcolm. “Lighten up.”

He sat back down on the couch, briefly turning his attention back to his game while letting Tapestry continue her investigation. There was nothing to find in his apartment, and there hadn’t been for more than a week now, aside from Danny’s brief visit.

I should be happy about that, shouldn’t I?

Rose, Malcolm’s friend and occasional spryte lover, had defected to the other side. He didn’t like to think about what that meant for him personally, given how the conflict between the Vanderbrook champions and Rain Dancer’s faction was intensifying.

It was partially his fault. Malcolm had pushed Rose into seeking out her sister, inadvertently introducing her to the Awakened Children cult, and the two monsters, Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden, at its head. He still wasn’t sure what he would do if put in another situation where he had to fight Rose.

“Satisfied?” asked Malcolm, glancing at Tapestry as she took a seat next to him on the couch.

“For now,” said Tapestry. “But I’ve got my eyes on you.”

Malcolm paused the game and met her gaze.

“Good to know,” he said.

CHAPTER 3

“Anyway, I thought you said you’d be by earlier,” said Malcolm. “It’s past noon.”

“I had to take the bus,” said Tapestry. “The last time I drove my car, someone almost tailed me home. Rain Dancer and the rest of the monsters are getting bolder.”

“That’s brazen,” said Malcolm. “And also fairly creepy.”

Tapestry folded her arms, glaring at the wall.

“What’s creepy is what I’ve been hearing about Shield Maiden’s activity on the world wide web,” said Tapestry.

Malcolm chuckled.

“The world wide web,” he said, trying not to mock her too much with his tone. “Sometimes I forget that the internet is still a new thing to you.”

“Melanie keeps me informed,” said Tapestry. “I don’t see a real need for it.”

Malcolm shrugged. They’d had this conversation before. Either out of stubbornness or an inability to attempt new things, Tapestry remained deeply hesitant to give the internet, including just browsing the web on her phone, much more than the occasional try.

“She showed you the video, though, right?” asked Malcolm. “The one of the… young spryte?”

“She didn’t have to,” said Tapestry. “It was on the news.”

A video filmed by a passerby depicted two champions fighting, and eventually killing, a pretty young spryte with a sonic charged voice. The video had gone viral at the start of the week. Shield Maiden and several other monsters across the country had seized the opportunity on social media, pushing for #monsterrights and denouncing the Champion Authority as a fascist organization.

I can’t honestly say that I blame them, either.

“It’s not just sprytes and demons,” said Malcolm. “A lot of normal people are getting involved now, too. Tapestry, this could get really out of hand.”

“Because it isn’t already?” she asked, her voice slightly miffed. “Rain Dancer destroyed our headquarters. He’s not some dignified, civil rights saint, and neither is Shield Maiden.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” said Malcolm.

He’d seen Rain Dancer murder a young gifted teenager in his underground base. It had been worse than what he’d seen in the video of the spryte, but without footage proving that it had happened, nobody would care if he went public with it.

“Anyway,” he continued. “How’s the rest of the team holding up?”

Tapestry sighed. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she took the ends of it between her fingers and started playing with it.

“Greenthumb is still in the hospital,” she said. “He’s awake now, though, and his breathing has stabilized.”

“Good,” said Malcolm.

“Anna’s staying at a hotel nearby,” said Tapestry. “She’s been visiting Greenthumb regularly, and making sure that it’s still safe for him there.”

“What about Wax?” asked Malcolm. “And Multi?”

Tapestry shrugged.

“No word of Multi,” said Tapestry. “He’s still being held by Rain Dancer, as far as I know.”

“Bad situation for us,” said Malcolm. “Rain Dancer has a penchant for trying to turn champions into demons and sprytes. And Multi would make for a very dangerous enemy.”

He’s our former boss. He knows all our weaknesses, and can make copies of himself.

“We just have to hope that he manages to hold out,” said Tapestry. “And we still have Wax on our side, at least.”

“Where has he been?” asked Malcolm.

“In a homeless shelter.” Tapestry sighed. “I offered to let him stay with me, but he said that it would draw too much attention.”

Malcolm nodded.

“That sounds like him,” he said. “Though I’m sure the food at your place would be a vast improvement. Speaking of which, how’s Melanie doing?”

Tapestry smiled.

“She’s fine,” said Tapestry. “Still going to school, living a normal life. She bought one of those ridiculous game consoles that you have, which I think is a huge waste of money.”

“I’ll have to get her gamer tag.” Malcolm crossed his legs and shifted on the couch, his expression growing serious. “And what about you? It’s been a couple of days since the two of us have really… talked.”

In fact, it had been over a week, since before the attack on their headquarters. Tapestry had been all business since then, rebuffing any of Malcolm’s attempts to close the distance between them.

They were friends, but they’d also been intimate before. Malcolm felt a confusing mixture of emotions whenever he thought about Tapestry and how he felt about her. She seemed better at compartmentalizing their relationship than he was, and he wondered if it was due to the massive age advantage she had over him.

“We talk all the time,” said Tapestry. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” said Malcolm.

Tapestry just looked at him. Her expression told him all he needed to know.

She doesn’t trust me like that. And she never will, unless I tell her the truth.

“I’ll have you over for dinner sometime soon,” said Tapestry, her voice level. “Melanie’s been insisting on it. I’d like for us to be close, Malcolm. But it’s as much on you as it is on me.”

Malcolm shrugged. He glanced at his phone.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Anyway, it looks like it’s almost time. Are you ready?”

Tapestry nodded.

“We should leave soon,” she said. “I’m not sure if he’ll arrive a little early, or a little late…”

“There’s going to be a protest there,” said Malcolm. “The monster rights faction got word of his arrival, and plan on showing up with signs and chants.”

“Savior’s probably the most powerful champion that’s ever existed,” said Tapestry. “I think he’ll be able to handle it.”

The two of them headed out of Malcolm’s apartment and onto the street. They took a bus from Vanderbrook to the Halter City airport, the trip taking close to an hour. It was midafternoon when they arrived, and the sun overhead was hidden by cloud cover.

“Do you think the weather is going to affect his arrival?” asked Malcolm, as they headed into the airport through the main entrance.

Tapestry shrugged.

“You’d know better than I do,” she said. “I’ve never met Savior, and obviously, I can’t fly.”

“What I do is a bit more like jumping with style,” said Malcolm. “But seriously… Why doesn’t he come straight to Vanderbrook? It’s not like a superhero with flight powers is limited to taking off and landing in airports.”

“Because it’s the law?” said Tapestry. “He’s actually the one that introduced the bill. All superhuman air travel over a distance greater than ten miles is limited to official flight paths. And it requires that you check in with air traffic on departure and destination.”

“Huh,” said Malcolm. “I did not know that.”

Seems like unnecessary regulation on the part of the government. Then again, Savior is the executive director of the Champion Authority and a Senator, so maybe he’s the bureaucratic type.

The two of them slipped into the airport and walked along a wide hallway, toward the arrivals gate. As Malcolm had expected, there were already a few dozen people congregated in front of the airport. They held signs that said things like “#monsterrights” and “Savior is no Savior”. He frowned, noticing a few police officers who’d been assigned to keep the protesters in check.

“What do you think the odds are of Rain Dancer or a member of his faction making an appearance?” he asked.

Tapestry shrugged.

“It doesn’t really matter,” she said. “None of them are strong enough to stand against Savior. The fact that he’s come to our area in the first place really says volumes about how bad the situation has gotten.”

“You don’t even think Rain Dancer could take him on?” asked Malcolm.

Tapestry furrowed her brow, as though the question was almost too stupid for her to answer.

“Savior is invulnerable,” she said. “He can fly. He can launch directed energy blasts out of the palms of his hands. He’s super strong. And he can create offensive illusions. No, Malcolm, I don’t think Rain Dancer could take him on.”

“Hey, you don’t have to be grumpy about it,” said Malcolm. “I was just asking.”

CHAPTER 4

Savior’s arrival was a little anticlimactic. A small contrail slowly cut through the clouds overhead before trailing off. A few minutes later the tiny dot slowly became discernable as a man. As he descended the last few hundred feet toward the airport’s runway, the crowd exploded into chants.

“Savior, not a saint!” they shouted. “Murderer, full of hate!”

Malcolm glanced at Tapestry, feeling a little awkward standing so close to the protesters. She waved a hand at him dismissively.

“We should wait here for now,” she said. “For their sake, more than Savior’s. We don’t want anyone trying to rush him as soon as he comes in.”

Savior took his time walking through the gate. He was wearing a dress shirt tucked into jeans, with a navy blazer that looked rumpled from the wind. His hair was a salt and pepper black and grey, and he had a handsome face with a strong jaw. He looked about fifty, but still very well put together.

“Savior, not a saint!” roared the crowd. “Murderer, full of hate!”

Savior grinned and appeared to let out a genuine laugh. He gestured to Malcolm and Tapestry, apparently recognizing them on sight.

“Local champions?” asked Savior, as they drew in close. His voice was resonant, with a hint of smoky scratchiness to it.

“That’s right,” said Tapestry. “I’m-”

“Tapestry, right?” said Savior. “My assistant said you were pretty when he set up the meeting, but wow! And this, here, must be the infamous Wind Cutter I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Uh…” Malcolm frowned. “It’s Wind Runner.”

“Right, right,” said Savior. “Cutter, you’re in charge of security. I should say something to the crowd. It seems a shame for so many of them to come out to see me and not get a speech.”

Savior plastered a phony grin on his face and turned toward the angry, chanting crowd. He waved at the protesters and then held his hands out wide, as though he was the one welcoming them.

“Greetings!” called Savior. The crowd went silent.

Protesters stopping to hear what their target has to say? I am thoroughly amazed.

“If you’re interested in getting a selfie or an autograph with me, please return at the time of my departure,” said Savior. “I’ll inform the local news ahead of time, so it can be announced. I usually try to get to the airport about an hour early, and will be open to your requests then.”

The protesters glanced at each other. One of them started chanting again. Savior laughed and gestured for him to stop.

“Holy smokes,” he said. “You folks are impatient. I just thought I’d leave you with a few parting words of inspiration.”

He cleared his throat.

“It doesn’t matter the color of your skin,” said Savior. “Or whether you have superpowers, or where you live, how much money you make, who your parents were, what school you went to, whether you’re alive, uh, or dead. None of it… really matters. Hmm. Think about that one, that’s pretty deep.”

Savior lowered his arms and nodded to Malcolm and Tapestry. The two of them hurried over, falling into step next to him.

A gunshot cut through the moment, loud and tasteless. Malcolm lowered his head out of reflex. He glanced over at Tapestry, and then at Savior.

The head of the Champion Authority had a bullet stuck to the center of his forehead. He almost seemed not to notice, squinting around just like Malcolm was to discern where the damage had been done. Finally, he reached up, plucking the mostly flattened chunk of metal loose from his head. There was no mark underneath it.

“Hmm… a bullet,” said Savior. “One of the many things of which I’m invulnerable to. How ironic.”

Uh… That’s barely a coincidence.

The shooter was already retreating, crouching low as he ran past a luggage carousel. Savior lifted up one of his hands, as if considering whether to blast the man with energy. He sighed, and then stepped into the air, effortlessly taking flight.

Savior sped across the floor, only a few feet above the ground, and seized the man by the back of the shirt. He knocked loose the gun, an expensive looking rifle, and carried the offender back into range of the crowd.

“It gives me pause to think that a man’s heart can be so full of hate,” said Savior. “You should take up a hobby. Perhaps clay sculpting.”

“Fuck you!” shouted the man. “Fascist.”

Savior chuckled. He took the man by the face and locked eyes with him. The man blinked a couple of times in quick succession, and then let out a horrible, panicked scream. Savior stepped back from him. Malcolm watched as the man rolled and patted at his clothes.

“It’s whatever his worst fear is,” whispered Savior.

“That seems a little… intense,” said Malcolm.

The man was clawing at his clothing, ripping both the fabric and the skin underneath.

“It’ll wear off in a couple of hours,” said Savior. “Now. Shall we make our grand departure?”

The police were already hurrying over to take the assassin into custody. Malcolm wasn’t sure whether what Savior had done to the man was merciful, or cruel and unusual. He had to force himself to take his attention off the screaming and fall back into step with his fellow champions.

“Weren’t you on security detail, Cutter?” asked Savior.

“Should I bother correcting you, or is that my new nickname?” asked Malcolm.

Tapestry glared at him.

“He’s right, you know,” she said. “You completely missed the shooter. If it wasn’t for Savior’s invulnerability, how would that situation have played out?”

Malcolm grimaced, feeling his cheeks flush slightly. She had a point. Tapestry had shown him what to do in a situation like this in training. He’d been distracted, both by the crowd and by his own thoughts.

“I guess you could say that… he had his head stuck in the clouds?” said Savior. Tapestry laughed. Malcolm didn’t.

“Get it, Cutter?” Savior elbowed him in the ribs. “Like, you have wind powers? Wind powers… that you could fly with? Head stuck up in the–”

“I get it,” said Malcolm. “Funny.”

CHAPTER 5

Malcolm trailed behind Tapestry and Savior as they walked. They seemed to be getting along quite well, with Savior regaling Tapestry with stories of battles he’d been in, and famous people he’d met.

“He didn’t correct me,” said Savior. “I spent almost an hour treating him like he was Prime Minister of Australia! New Zealand, though, totally different place.”

“Oh, that’s an easy mistake,” said Tapestry. “Anyone could have made it.”

“Yeah,” said Malcolm. “I’m sure you’re not the only US Senator to completely confuse two sovereign nations, thousands of miles apart.”

“Right?” said Savior. Tapestry glared at Malcolm.

The protesters followed them, at least to the entrance of the airport. Two police officers were on duty there, apparently assigned to be Savior’s official escort on behalf of Halter City. He sent them off with a smile and a wave, and then set a hand on Malcolm and Tapestry’s shoulders.

“Now listen,” said Savior. “It’s probably better if I don’t travel with you directly to our destination. I’m a little bit too famous for that.”

“Of course,” said Tapestry. “Here, I already wrote down my address.”

She pulled out a slip of paper and passed it to Savior.

“My number’s also on the back,” she quickly added. Malcolm struggled to keep his reaction controlled.

“I’ll meet you there in a lickety split,” said Savior. “Fear not, fellow champions. Your Savior has arrived, and soon the situation will be handled!”

He lowered himself into a squat, and then took off into the air. Malcolm watched him disappear into the distance, and then glanced over at Tapestry.

“You gave him your number?” he asked.

Tapestry blushed.

“He might need to call for something,” she said.

“Something… like a date?”

Her cheeks reddened further.

“Why does it matter to you, anyway?” asked Tapestry.

“What do you mean, why does it matter to me?” asked Malcolm. “We…”

“Are not a couple,” she said, finishing his sentence.

I can’t argue with that. We’re just friends… who occasionally hook up.

“Beyond that,” he said, still unwilling to give up the argument. “He’s like, crazy old.”

Tapestry made an offended noise and glared at Malcolm.

“I cannot believe you just said that,” she said. “Are you forgetting my real age? Compared to me, Savior is still a young man.”

“Oh, come on.” Malcolm rolled his eyes. “That’s a technicality, and you know it.”

“Do you think he’d like chicken for dinner?” asked Tapestry. “I also have some breaded fish, but it’s frozen.”

Malcolm sighed and massaged his temples.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get moving.”

He listened to his music on the bus ride back, letting the guitar solos and easy lyrics of 90s alt rock massage his powers into a better state of efficiency. Malcolm found himself wondering what Savior’s focus activity was, and then about his weakness.

I’d be surprised if anyone knows that. I can’t imagine the most powerful man alive lets it slip very often.

There was a bus stop close to their destination, and it only took them a couple of minutes from there. Tapestry’s house was clean and cozy, with a coordinated color scheme from another era.

“I’m going to get started on dinner,” said Tapestry. “Do you mind entertaining Savior when he gets here? I want to concentrate on dinner.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes, taking off his shoes off as he came inside.

“Sure,” he said. “But I think all the fuss is a little unwarranted.”

“It’s not a fuss,” said Tapestry. “I just… like to cook.”

Malcolm shrugged, walking through the foyer and into the living room. He grinned when he saw Melanie, Tapestry’s great granddaughter, sitting on the couch across from the TV with a controller in her hand.

“So you did get a PS4,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Melanie.

“I didn’t realize you played video games,” said Malcolm.

“Yeah,” said Melanie.

Malcolm blinked. Melanie was one of the chattiest people he’d ever met. All of her attention, currently, was focused on the game, her pale, freckled face and brown hair illuminated by the glow of the TV.

“Will you be my slave for a month?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Melanie.

Is this what I’m like when I’m gaming?

Malcolm found a second controller, nestled in the entertainment center near the console. He plugged it in, sat down on the couch next to her, and snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go. One on one, something we both can play.”

Melanie frowned, as though coming out of a trance.

“Uh, right,” she said. “Sorry. I never played video games much when I was younger. I always thought they were for boys, but I tried out one of the kiosks at the mall and just got sucked in. It cost me almost all my savings, but I think it was worth it. I’m not a big competitive player though. I prefer games with a good story.”

“Well then,” said Malcolm. “Why don’t we ease into something simple?”

They played a couple of matches in a fighting game. Malcolm went easy on her, but Melanie learned the controls quickly enough to give him a run for his money. He actually started to get a little irritated, and in the deciding round of their second match, had to resort to the ancient technique of pressing random buttons on Melanie’s controller to mess her up.

“Hey!” she cried, pushing him away. “No fair.”

“The first rule of video games is that anything goes,” said Malcolm.

“What about this, then?” Melanie reached her hand down and set it on his thigh. Malcolm dropped his controller in surprise.

“You’re playing dirty!” he said.

“You started it.”

“Children, please,” called Tapestry, from the kitchen. “Savior just called, asking which house it was. Can one of you go outside and wait on the lawn for him.”

“Children?” asked Malcolm, incredulous. “Really, Tapestry? Do you really want to go there?”

CHAPTER 6

Malcolm paused the game and headed outside onto the lawn. Melanie followed him. It was still cloudy overhead, but the rain seemed content to hold off, at least until the sun had finished setting.

“So what’s Savior like in person, anyway?” asked Melanie. “Aubrey seemed really thrilled to have him coming to our area. I think it goes beyond just the help he can offer.”

Unfortunately, so do I.

“He’s… a character,” said Malcolm.

A pedestrian was approaching from down the street. It took Malcolm a minute to recognize the man as Wax, one of the other local champions. He was dressed in dirty clothes, with his head shaved and a slightly ragged red beard. He was a short man, a little pudgy, but very intelligent.

Wax was a clone of Malcolm’s former boss, Multi. During the attack on their headquarters, Multi had been kidnapped, and most of his copies had been killed. Wax was the only one to make it out alive. He had helped keep tabs on the pulse of the area during the time afterward by disguising himself as a homeless person.

It’s a dirty job, but someone has got to do it.

“Wax,” said Malcolm. “Good timing. Savior just got into town.”

“I know,” said Wax. “He called me already. He said he was already inside the house, though.”

“No, we’re still waiting for him,” said Malcolm. He frowned, and a second later, a high pitched female scream came from the house across the street.

Malcolm watched in disbelief as a woman with wet hair, wearing nothing but a towel, ran out onto the street. She was followed shortly after by a very apologetic looking Savior.

“Sincerely, sorry, madam,” said Savior. “The window was open, and I was trying to make a stealthy entrance. Mistakes were made, clearly. The Champion Authority will send you a formal apology.”

Melanie frowned and crossed her arms.

“He should be more careful,” she said.

“Hey,” said Malcolm, chuckling. “It happens to the best of us.”

The woman seemed to relax a little after Savior’s explanation, and unsurprisingly, insisted on getting a photo with him before heading back inside. Savior grinned when he saw Wax, walking over and clapping him solidly on the back.

“Waxie!” said Savior, voice booming. “I’ve missed you so! Good to see that you’re still in fine form.”

“I’m not sure I would describe it with those words, exactly,” said Wax. “I’ve got a lot to fill you in on.”

“In due time,” said Savior, leading the group back inside. “But first, I need a shower.”

Tapestry had finished with the food and was waiting in the living room. She immediately headed to the linen closet, returning with a towel and offering it to Savior. He shook his head, gesturing to Wax.

“Wax will hold onto that for me,” said Savior. “We’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“Uh…” Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “Is he taking a shower… with you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” said Savior. “He’s my attendant. He’ll stand directly outside the shower and pass me what I need.”

Wax looked like an employee about to do his least favorite job.

“He insists,” said Wax. “He claims that his most brilliant ideas come to him in the bath. It’s my responsibility… to record them.”

“Exactly!” said Savior. “Tapestry, might you have any mouthwash? I took a couple of bugs to the teeth on the flight over.”

Tapestry blinked, looking a little bewildered.

“Sure…” she said. “It’s… in the bathroom.”

Savior nodded to her and headed off in the direction she’d indicated, Wax following close behind. The door to the bathroom shut, and Malcolm burst out laughing.

“He’s just eccentric,” said Tapestry.

“Of course,” said Malcolm. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. He can shower however, or with whomever, he wants.”

Malcolm heard the shower turn on, followed by the sound of Savior singing as he bathed. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he sat down on the couch next to Melanie for another round of video games.

An hour later, all five of them were gathered around the kitchen table. Tapestry had decided on grilled chicken for dinner, with mashed potatoes, green beans, and salad. She served everyone and said grace, settling down in her seat and watching the guest of honor intently.

“It’s delicious!” announced Savior. “You are an excellent cook, Tapestry.”

She beamed at the praise.

“Thank you,” she said. “It’s really just what I had on hand. Next time, I’ll buy special ingredients.”

Malcolm cleared his throat.

“As much fun as it is to talk about cooking, and food, I think we have bigger problems on our hands,” he said. “We should talk strategy, and figure out how we’re going to reorganize the local Champion Authority.”

“But of course!” Savior took a bite of chicken, making pleased noises as he chewed, and then continued speaking with his mouth full. “As soon as… I inspect the damage of your destroyed headquarters… I can send the information to Architect, our resident head of construction at the Champion Authority.”

“That’s helpful,” said Malcolm. “But it’s really only part of the problem.”

“He’s right, Savior,” said Wax. “I’ve had my ear to the ground for the past week. We aren’t just under threat from the demons and sprytes in the city. Public opinion is shifting fast, especially online.”

“The monster rights movement,” said Melanie. “People are even talking about it at my school. There’s a new student union set up that’s organizing a relief effort for at risk monsters in the area.”

“Monster rights…” said Savior. “Or monster wrongs? Think on that one, it’s deep.”

Far too deep for me, man.

“I’m not sure that attacking Rain Dancer and his allies directly would be the best idea,” said Malcolm. “Killing them would only embolden the monster rights movement. It would turn him into a martyr.”

Savior frowned.

“What do you think, Tapestry?” he asked. “Do you agree with your sister on how widespread this movement is?”

“My… sister?” Tapestry stumbled. “Uh… Actually, yeah, I do!”

She smiled at Savior, her eyes fluttering. Malcolm briefly considered revealing the truth, and then decided against it. It would only infuriate Tapestry, and it wasn’t his place to disclose her secrets, anyway.

“The one thing I’ve learned in my time as a champion is how to be tactical and clean,” said Savior. “Like a quiet fart in a crowded elevator. We shall take a… silent, but deadly approach.”

He was totally serious. Malcolm coughed into his hand, trying to contain himself.

“What do you suggest, then?” asked Wax.

“I’m familiar with one of the local monster watering holes,” said Savior. “A little establishment called Terri’s Tavern.”

Malcolm furrowed his brow. He glanced around the table, but if anyone else recognized the place, they didn’t let it show in their expression.

I went there with Rose, right after I first met her. I wonder if she ever goes there on her own?

“You don’t think they’ll mind you, the leader of the Champion Authority, just dropping for a visit?” asked Tapestry.

Savior laughed.

“I have an understanding with the owner,” said Savior. “It shan’t be a problem. So… who is coming with me? Obviously, you and your sister are too young, Tapestry.”

Tapestry let out a small, guilty cough.

“And Wax…” Savior frowned as he considered his balding attendant. “You’re a stick in the mud, when you drink.”

“That’s because I don’t like to drink the way you do,” said Wax. “Your idea of fun is straight vodka shots.”

“A holdover from my college days,” mused Savior. “Cutter, you’re also a bit on the young side, aren’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” said Malcolm. “If you help me get in, I’ll go shot for shot with you.”

“Deal!” Savior laughed triumphantly and turned his attention to his food.

Malcolm slowly cut into the chicken. He thought about Terri’s Tavern, and heading back there. He wasn’t sure whether he was hoping she’d be there, or hoping that she wouldn’t.

CHAPTER 7

It was dark when they left Tapestry’s. Savior didn’t seem to mind walking, which Malcolm appreciated. He wasn’t confident enough with his own flight ability to have any hope of keeping up with Savior.

“Have you been a champion for long, Cutter?”

Malcolm had already corrected him twice more that evening. The nickname was permanent, as far as he could tell.

“Only a couple of weeks,” said Malcolm. “It’s been… eventful, to say the least. What about you?”

“Since Day One of the Phenomenon,” said Savior. “It was really quite something. I was already a United States Senator, popular, moderately well known. They were speculating about me making a run for the White House, some day.”

“Is that still something you’re considering?” asked Malcolm. “I’d think you’d already be busy enough running the Champion Authority and passing laws.”

“Oh, I have assistants for all that,” said Savior. “In reality, this is my job.”

He gestured to himself, to Malcolm, and to the surrounding town.

“Hunting down monsters?” asked Malcolm.

“Problem solving!” said Savior. “Helping people! Living by my ideals and being thanked by the world for doing it!”

This guy is too much.

“Well, it’s good to know that you’re staying grounded,” said Malcolm.

Savior laughed.

“Ha! Because I spend so much time flying!” He slapped Malcolm on the back. “Cutter, you are a card!”

Malcolm recognized the bouncer outside Terri’s Tavern. It was a muscular black man, relatively unassuming in appearance. If it wasn’t for the fact that he knew what to look for, Malcolm might have missed the fact that he was a demon.

The dark sunglasses hiding his discolored eyes gave him away as a monster, along with the telltale skull lumps along the crown of the man’s head. Malcolm made a mental note to avoid calling anyone inside a “monster”, as the word was considered to be a somewhat derogatory manner of addressing sprytes and demons.

“Greetings, good sir,” said Savior, addressing the bouncer. “We’re headed down into the tavern. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

“Uh…” The bouncer frowned, pulling his sunglasses down to get a better look. His eyes went wide as soon as he recognized Savior. “Jesus… Look, we don’t want any trouble! I’ll send Scribe out, she’ll give you whatever you need.”

“That shan’t be necessary,” said Savior. “We’re just here as patrons. To drink, converse, contribute witty anecdotes, and so forth. Say… isn’t it ironic that you’re wearing sunglasses at night?”

Savior does not know what irony is. Ah, the irony.

The bouncer just stared at him.

“He wants to get a beer,” said Malcolm. “We won’t make trouble, and we’ll leave if asked.”

The bouncer slowly nodded.

“Let me just… let Scribe know that you’re coming.”

The bouncer disappeared down the stairs, returning a minute later and waving the two by. Malcolm went first, feeling an odd thrill of anticipation as he stepped into the rustic, dimly lit cellar.

Terri’s Tavern had a very traditional feel to it. Imitation lanterns hung from walls and the ceiling. The tables were all old polished wood, as was the bar and all the stools. It wasn’t especially crowded, with only a half dozen or so monsters present.

Malcolm scanned the room, searching for Rose and not finding her. He told himself that it was a good thing that she wasn’t there. If Savior got wind of how Malcolm had become friendly with a spryte, there would be consequences.

The fact that there were other monsters in the room, however, and Savior seemed absolutely casual about it, was something Malcolm did not understand. He walked next to the leader of the Champion Authority, the two of them taking seats at the bar.

“Beer us, Scribe,” said Savior. “And then we’ll talk. You remember me this time, right?”

The bartender and owner of Terri’s Tavern was a spryte by the name of Scribe. The last time Malcolm had spoken with her, she’d explained that her power was related to language, and as such, she kept a detailed journal to keep herself from losing too much of her memory whenever she had an episode. Considering that detail made Malcolm feel uneasy, though he didn’t like to think about why.

Maybe Rose has had an episode since I last saw her. Maybe she doesn’t remember me anymore.

“Savior,” said Scribe. She was a short spryte with thick hair and thick glasses. “I… didn’t expect that you’d come in person.”

“I’m sure you heard what happened to the local Champion Authority headquarters,” said Savior. “Total bummer, you know? So I’m going to have to pick up the slack in town while the rebuilding takes place.”

Malcolm pulled his attention back into the moment, glancing back and forth between Scribe and Savior. The leader of the Champion Authority, an institution dedicated to policing demons and sprytes across the world, was casually conversing with one. It still made no sense to him. Savior noticed the expression on his face and clapped him on his back.

“You looked confused,” said Savior.

“I’m just not quite sure what to make of this,” said Malcolm. “I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but… it seems like you’re just flaunting the fact that you don’t have to abide by the very rules that you set.”

Savior exhaled through his nostrils. He closed his eyes for a moment, and suddenly looked a decade older.

“I didn’t set the rules,” he said. “No… Unfortunately not. But perhaps there is an element of flaunting involved, here. I want you to understand, Cutter.”

Savior took a contemplative sip of his beer and then nodded to himself.

“It’s been my method of operation to pardon certain monsters and certain places,” he said. “While the Champion Authority’s official policy is to handle all monsters as though they are dangerous and volatile, it’s… convenient, to turn a blind eye here and there.”

“Speaking of which,” interrupted Scribe. “I already paid Multi for this month. It was right before the attack on your base.”

“No you didn’t!” Savior grinned at the spryte. “Nice try though.”

His enthusiasm and good humor seemed to snap back into first gear. Savior drummed his hands on the bar counter and started whistling. Malcolm was barely even aware of it. He turned the implication of Savior’s words over in his head.

Savior can give out pardons. That means I could save Rose… and maybe even Danny.

Malcolm grimaced. Rose was one thing, but Danny had killed so many people. He wasn’t sure that Danny deserved a real second chance, even as his brother.

Then why did I give him that money?

“Perfect!” laughed Savior, accepting the wad of money Scribe passed to him. “You’re all set for the next month.”

“I appreciate that,” said Scribe, dryly. “Now, is that it?”

“Of course not,” said Savior. “Vodka shots, on the double.”

Malcolm excused himself to the bathroom, standing up slowly and making his way across the bar. A couple sprytes and demons looked in his direction, but most of them kept their eyes averted. He was about to push through the door into the men’s room when a heavy hand clapped on his shoulder and spun him around.

“Hey,” said a deep voice. “Remember me?”

Malcolm was staring into the face of a demon by the name of Bicep. He’d encountered him on his first visit to Terri’s Tavern with Rose, and the two of them had almost come to blows. Strangely, the demon was smiling this time around.

“That depends,” said Malcolm. “Is there a right answer to that question, or will both lead to a fight?”

Bicep’s smile widened.

“Relax,” he said. “I ain’t gonna punch you.”

Bicep was a muscle demon, and every inch of his body was covered with exaggerated, rippling muscle. He wore a thin sleeveless shirt and gym shorts, and had arms as thick around as tree trunks.

“Right…” said Malcolm. “That’s good to know. Well, I was on my way to the bathroom, so if you don’t mind…”

“Talk to me for a second,” said Bicep. “I got a few questions.”

His brow was furrowed, and the tone of his voice seemed sincere. Malcolm sighed, and then gave a small shrug.

“Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

The two of them sat down at a table in the corner of the room. Malcolm steepled his fingers, letting his eyes run across the bar out of habit. It was nearly empty.

“No Fantasy, tonight?” he asked. Fantasy was an attractive, female spryte, and one of Bicep’s friends. Bicep shook his head.

“She’s been… busy, lately,” said Bicep.

“Nothing to read into there,” said Malcolm.

Bicep laughed and waved his hand, as though dismissing the question.

“She’s been busy, okay,” said Bicep. “It doesn’t matter. Look, I’m more interested in why the two of you are here, given the state of Vanderbrook right now.”

“I can’t speak for Savior, but I’m here because it’s my job,” said Malcolm. “He’s in town. I’m a champion, and that means I’ve been drafted as his bodyguard.”

It was close enough to the truth that it didn’t really feel like a lie. Savior had come to Terri’s tavern to gather information, but Malcolm doubted he’d manage to overhear anything interesting. He was there as Savior’s companion, and as backup, not that the invulnerable leader of the champions needed it.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you about,” said Bicep. He leaned in closer. “Is this… a crackdown?”

“You mean, Savior coming to Vanderbrook?” he asked. “No. At least, I don’t think so. He’s just here to help me and my fellow champions get back on our feet.”

Bicep let out a sigh of relief. Malcolm frowned, feeling a bit odd about the conversation.

“What happened to make you so friendly?” he asked. “The last time we encountered each other, you seemed… a little territorial.”

“That’s cause I thought you were a typical champion,” said Bicep. “After chatting with Rose, it’s pretty clear that you’re something else. She’s in deep for you, ya know. Won’t let anyone drag the name of her precious ‘Wind Runner’ through the mud.”

“She’s… been by here?” asked Malcolm. “Like, since last time, when I was here with her?”

Bicep frowned.

“Of course,” he said. “I thought that’s why you came tonight, at first. She just had to use the restroom… Though it has been a couple of minutes.”

Malcolm stood up from his chair sharply enough to knock it over. He glanced over at Savior, making sure that the champion was still distracted, and then hurried toward the restrooms.

CHAPTER 8

Malcolm rounded the corner toward the women’s bathroom in time to see a flash of jet black shadow head down the hallway, toward the emergency exit. He sprinted after it, his heart pounding in his chest.

The emergency exit door opened and started to close. Malcolm managed to get a foot in between it and the doorframe, wincing as it crushed against his foot. He threw it the rest of the way open and stumbled up the stairs into the street.

“Rose!” He kept his voice low, trying to shout and whisper at the same time. “I know you’re here!”

There was no response in words, but the street took on an unusual stillness. No pedestrians were nearby. Malcolm let his eyes scan over the shadows in alleyways and behind parked cars. He couldn’t even guess at where she’d be hiding.

“I just…” He spoke in a quiet voice, not really sure what he had to say. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to run away from me.”

“Then don’t show up with the king of the champions as your wingman next time,” came a whisper.

Malcolm grinned. He tried to pinpoint where her voice had come from, but it was impossible with the ambient noise of the bar behind him.

“Stay safe,” he said. “Please.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” whispered Rose.

“Point taken.” Malcolm took a breath and slowly exhaled.

I miss her. But would it matter if I told her that?

“Cutter!” came Savior’s booming voice from inside. “Where’d you run off to?”

Malcolm frowned, taking one last look at the darkness outside.

“I’m not your enemy,” he said. “I’m your friend. Don’t forget that, okay?”

There was no response, but somehow, Malcolm knew that she’d heard him. He reminded himself that she was strong and capable. She knew where to find him, if she wanted to continue the conversation. And she was smart enough to pick a good time.

He headed back inside the tavern. Savior had two shots set in front of him at the bar and was grinning like a madman. He pushed one toward Malcolm and slapped a hand on the counter.

“Vodka,” said Savior. “It’s good for the soul. Cleanses pesky thoughts from the mind with just a sip.”

“I’m pretty sure it does exactly the opposite of that, more often than not,” said Malcolm.

“You’re a card, Cutter!” said Savior. “Ready? One, two, and down!”

Malcolm drank the shot, the taste of it burning his throat as it went down. As much as he hated to admit it, the slight buzz it gave him was preferable to the mood he’d been in prior.

Savior ordered them another round of beers, and then more shots. Somewhere in between really drunk and absolutely sloshing, Malcolm found himself recalling the man’s words from earlier.

“Do you ever… give out pardons?” mumbled Malcolm. “On behalf of other people?”

“Huh…?” Savior let out a burp and banged his shot glass on the bar counter, signaling for Scribe to bring him another. “Pardons…? You know a monster that deserves one?”

Malcolm didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure of how much he was willing to disclose. Savior seemed to be relatively good natured, but he was still the leader of an organization designed to hunt and kill sprytes and demons. For Malcolm to disclose his relationship with one to him, of all people, would be foolhardy.

“Let me tell you what,” said Savior, slurring his words. “You do good work for me here while I’m in town, and we’ll talk about it. I like monsters, you know? They aren’t all bad… well, sometimes they are. But…”

Savior sighed. Scribe had set a new shot in front of him, and he poured it down his throat.

“Cutter, killing doesn’t get easier the more you do it,” said Savior. “That’s just a myth. First few times, maybe. But then… there’s a smell to it. It just gets more unpleasant as time passes. It’s like a smell sealed into your memories, and it never goes away. And so you do what you must.”

He laughed and waved to Scribe again, who was starting to look a little annoyed.

“No,” said Savior, as she went to refill his shot glass. “Just… give me the bottle.”

Malcolm had one arm under Savior’s shoulder as they left Terri’s Tavern. He headed toward his apartment, fearing what Tapestry’s reaction would be if the two of them showed up on her doorstep after midnight, completely plastered.

“Let’s just… fly there!” mumbled Savior.

“You are tanked,” said Malcolm. “Drinking and flying sounds like…”

Savior took a bounding step and leapt in the air.

Well, I was about to say it sounds like a bad idea. But I guess we’re doing it.

Steadying his senses and balance, Malcolm reached out, feeling for the wind. His power was a constant, always there, always waiting for him. Using it was less like magic and more like flexing a muscle.

He coaxed the wind into a powerful gust behind him, taking a few long strides before springing upward. Malcolm used more force than he needed to, fearing that the alcohol might suppress the strength of his abilities. In fact, it was the opposite.

“Whoa!” he shouted.

He flew down the street and over the buildings at the end of it. He could just barely make out Savior’s figure ahead of him. The moon was peeking out through the night’s dark cloud cover, and every couple of seconds, the silhouette of a super powered champion would appear in front of it.

“Let’s fly to the moon!” shouted Savior. “The ground cannot hold us!”

I honestly think he’d try to, after a few more shots.

“We should take it easy, for tonight,” shouted Malcolm. “You’re a little bit wild, right now.”

“Onward, Cutter!” screamed Savior. “We’re champions!”

Savior flew higher into the air. Malcolm had his own method, slightly less elegant than the champion leader’s effortless, physics defying gliding. He used the wind in bursts, boosting himself upward as though he was bouncing off the air.

Malcolm was all too aware of the danger of the seductive, confusing euphoria, part of the body load that came with abusing superpowers. The metal stabilizer around his wrist would help keep his mood significantly more mediated than otherwise, but he could still feel that familiar excited rush, even on top of being drunk.

“Savior!” shouted Malcolm. “Hold on!”

They were several hundred feet in the air already, high enough up for the wind to take on a harsh chill. Malcolm lost sight of Savior for a moment and hesitated in between upward bursts, spinning in a slow circle to try to catch sight of him.

“Surprise!” Savior slammed into him from above, both of them spinning as they hurtled toward the ground.

Malcolm screamed, both out of terror and exhilaration. He was twisted around and unable to see the ground beneath them, though he could feel their descent. Savior’s hand was clutching his wrist. Malcolm suddenly felt the strange, tingling sensation that he recognized as the signal that he’d absorbed a superpower using his power mimicry ability.

Wait… I just copied Savior’s powers?

The two of them landed in the middle of a grassy park. Savior stumbled and let go of Malcolm on impact, who tumbled head over heels and eventually came to a rest in front of a sleeping homeless man on a park bench. The homeless man blinked open his eyes, grumbled something, and then went back to sleep.

Malcolm slowly pulled himself up, standing on drunken feet. He flexed his hand, considering what had just happened, and what it meant. He looked at Savior. The leader of the Champion Authority was huddled next to a bush, vomiting onto the grass behind it.

“Time to call it a night,” said Malcolm.

CHAPTER 9

Malcolm woke up with the worst hangover of his life. He sat up in bed, groaning as his body announced its aches.

Savior was already awake, sitting on the couch, playing PS4 and muttering at the screen. Malcolm poured himself a glass of water and took stock of the ingredients in his meager kitchen.

Probably better if we just head to Tapestry’s and beg her to make us breakfast.

“It keeps telling me to press R1,” said Savior. “Is that the bottom button, or the top?”

“Top,” said Malcolm. “How are you feeling?”

Savior paused the game and looked over his shoulder at Malcolm, smiling and looking far less ragged than Malcolm felt.

“Fresh,” said Savior. “My powers keep me from suffering too much from the effects of alcohol.”

Malcolm frowned. His memories of the previous night were a blur, but he distinctly remembered having absorbed Savior’s abilities at some point. He flexed his hand, trying to feel for them. He could sense his wind manipulation, but there wasn’t anything new beyond that in his awareness.

“Alright,” said Malcolm. “Tapestry is going to be expecting us. She already called my phone last night, and again this morning. I can’t imagine she’ll be thrilled if we don’t show up soon.”

“Indeed,” said Savior. “Lead on, then.”

“Do you need a shower?” asked Malcolm. “Change of clothes? I’d like to get myself washed up, at least.”

“They’ll be time for that once I’ve explained what your mission is going to be,” said Savior.

Malcolm nodded, though he felt a little irritated by Savior’s dismissive tone.

“Sure,” he said. “Because what I want to do most after a night of insane drinking is to head into work without a shower or a change of clothes.”

“That’s the attitude!” said Savior, enthusiastically. “Come on, let’s get going.”

The two of them took the bus to Tapestry’s house. More than a few of the fellow passengers recognized Savior, and Malcolm was a little put off by all the attention they paid them. Savior took it in stride, speaking conversationally to the people closest to him and waving to people as they got on and off.

The scene inside Tapestry’s house was like the day before, with Melanie again glued to the PS4, Wax reading a book on the couch, and Tapestry in the kitchen, working on breakfast. She came out into the living room wearing an apron, smiling at Savior, and frowning at an obviously hungover Malcolm.

“What exactly did your night involve?” asked Tapestry. “I’m assuming you managed to get something out of it?”

A throbbing headache and mixed emotions.

“Of course!” said Savior. He looked at Malcolm and shrugged. “I had plenty of time to speak with the bartender while you were, well… doing whatever you were doing.”

“Is this relevant to the city’s current crisis, Savior?” asked Wax.

The leader of the champions grinned, flashing two rows of perfect white teeth.

“Very much so,” said Savior. “Unfortunately, none of it relates to… finding Multi.”

Savior’s expression soured and he closed his eyes. Malcolm sensed that the two had been friends. Wax looked uncomfortable, but his expression didn’t reveal how he felt about the champion that was the original version of himself.

That’s weird to think about. Does Wax care about Multi, or vice versa, or do they just see each other as extensions of the same self?

“But, I did discover a few useful things,” continued Savior. “According to Scribe, the owner of the…ah… local monster neutrality zone, Rain Dancer has been recruiting.”

Malcolm frowned.

“That’s seriously bad news,” he said. “Rain Dancer means business. He hides behind the #monsterrights campaign like he’s all politically correct, but he’s really in it for power.”

“Indeed,” said Savior. “He’s set his eyes on a certain individual that the Champion Authority has been aware of for quite some time. A man by the name of Golden Joab.”

“I bet there’s a story behind that name,” said Malcolm.

“He’s a magician,” said Wax. “Performs in high class venues all around the world. But we know practically nothing about him, beyond the fact that he’s supposedly gifted. He rebuffs all of the Champion Authority’s attempts to make contact.”

“He’s not a demon or spryte?” asked Tapestry. “Then what would Rain Dancer want with him?”

Malcolm thought back to his time in Rain Dancer’s captivity, specifically how he and another younger champion had been tortured because they refused to join forces with Rain Dancer. The other champion had been tortured to death, murdered as Malcolm helplessly watched on.

“Rain Dancer likes to force people with gifts to turn into sprytes and demons,” said Malcolm. “That’s what his plan is here. I’m sure of it.”

“And that, my fellow champions, is where we come in,” said Savior. “Golden Joab is going to be performing at the Hawktail Casino this weekend. Malcolm, Tapestry, I’d like the two of you to infiltrate it ahead of time and force contact.”

“Force contact?” asked Malcolm. “That sounds kind of… rapey.”

Everyone in the room turned to stare at him, including Melanie, who had paused her game to turn and raise an eyebrow.

“What?” asked Malcolm. “It’s just an observation. Say it out loud again and tell me I’m wrong.”

“Moving on,” said Savior. “Your cover story will be two newlyweds enjoying their honeymoon.”

Tapestry let out an audible gasp.

“That seems unnecessary,” she said. “We can just be interested gamblers, stopping by to watch his show.”

“There’s a reason why we’ve been unable to contact Golden Joab in the past,” said Wax. “He’s paranoid. The two of you need a good cover, and it needs to be convincing. You could pass as newlyweds, but nobody is going to believe that you’re just there to gamble.”

“It could be fun…” said Malcolm. He smiled at Tapestry, and was surprised by the irritation in the expression she offered back.

“I don’t like it,” she said. “It makes me feel icky.”

“Tapestry,” said Savior. “You’re young, and I know this must be a confusing role to be placed into, but you must set your hormones and emotions aside. Be mature about this.”

Tapestry’s mouth fell open. She stared at Savior in shock, looking as though she was offended in several different ways. Malcolm couldn’t resist.

“Yeah, Tapestry,” he said. “Be mature about this.”

She stood up and let out a huff.

“Fine,” she said. “If anybody needs me, I’ll be in the kitchen, finishing breakfast.”

She stomped off, and Savior gave a shrug.

“Cutter, you will be taking on a big responsibility with this mission,” said Savior. “Do it well, and I’ll owe you a favor.”

He set a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder and looked at him seriously. The events of the previous night were still a little hazy, but Malcolm remembered at least one important conversation that they’d had.

I could ask him to pardon Rose. She’d be able to live safely, and we could be together.

“I’ll handle it,” said Malcolm. “So, after we’ve contacted Golden Joab…?”

“Bring him to me,” said Savior. “If he’s willing to go with you, that’s perfect. If he isn’t, well, find a way to do it that doesn’t cause too much harm to him.”

Malcolm nodded.

“Got it,” he said.

Conversation shifted to lighter topics for a couple of minutes, with Savior and Wax discussing the merits of smoking cigars vs cigarettes. Malcolm watched Melanie play PS4, teasing her a little each time her character died.

Tapestry brought out plates of pancakes and passed them around. They were light, fluffy, and delicious.

“Wax,” said Savior. “They’re going to need nicer clothes to pull this mission of.”

“I’m on it,” said Wax. “Tapestry, Malcolm, I’ll need to take your measurements.”

He pulled a small measuring tape out of his pocket casually, as though everyone carried one around, and began moving around Tapestry with the speed of a practiced tailor.

“And grab me some nylon briefs while you’re at it,” said Savior. “I wore cotton ones by mistake today, and you know how badly the area around my loins chafes.”

“Sure thing,” said Wax.

CHAPTER 10

Wax took all of Tapestry and Malcolm’s measurements, and then immediately left to do the necessary shopping, with Savior’s credit card in tow. Malcolm finished his breakfast, feeling slightly excited about the mission ahead.

“Before the two of you leave,” said Savior. “I’d like you both to check in with the other champions in the area.”

“Greenthumb and Morph?” asked Tapestry. “They’ve been lying low, just like we have. Morph was considering coming out to greet you along with us, but she’s been worried about the monsters finding Greenthumb in the hospital.”

“Let them both know that if they’re feeling up to it, I could use their help,” said Savior. “And send them my best wishes.”

“That seems like the kind of thing that would best be done in person,” said Malcolm.

Savior frowned at him.

“I’m not going to be around for longer than necessary,” he said. “I want the two of you, and Wax, as well, to get used to operating on your own. Build ties with your fellow champions, and you’ll stand strong. Like a Jenga tower!”

Like a… Jenga tower?

“We will,” said Tapestry. “It’s no problem.”

“What will you be doing in the mean time?” asked Malcolm.

Savior smiled.

“Arranging for you to have a new base built,” he said. “It will be in the exact same place as the old one! Sends a strong message to those who would think to attack and destroy the property of the Champion Authority.”

“It also means that our enemies will never have trouble finding us,” muttered Malcolm.

Tapestry elbowed him in the ribs.

“We appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Savior,” she said. “Thank you. We’ll check in with Morph and Greenthumb, and then meet up with Wax.”

“How long do you think you’ll be gone for?” asked Melanie. “The whole weekend, or just the first half? I’m only asking because, uh, I’ll miss you so much. But definitely for Friday night and Saturday morning at the least, right? That’s a definite?”

“Melanie,” said Tapestry, in a quiet voice. “If I come home and find evidence of there having been a party thrown in my house…”

Melanie paused the game and shot a look at her great-grandmother that was actually rather convincing.

“I’ll just be… playing video games all weekend,” she said. “Relax.”

Malcolm grinned at her. He almost wished he could be around for it.

They drove Tapestry’s BMW, unable to avoid the risk of exposing themselves with it any longer, now that they had places to go outside of the bus’s routes. There was an odd tension in the car, and Malcolm could only take a minute of it or so before the silence grew to be unbearable.

“What do you think of all this?” he asked. “The plan, Savior, the fact that we’re heading to a casino to, uh, possibly kidnap a magician?”

Tapestry shrugged.

“I’m not a fan of this plan,” she said. “But Savior knows what he’s doing, even if he is a bit daft sometimes.”

“He’s smarter than he seems,” said Malcolm. “He has an… interesting approach to conflict.”

Tapestry glanced at him. Malcolm thought back to the previous night, suddenly remembering something important. He briefly debated if it was something he should share.

Tapestry appreciates it when I’m honest with her.

“I absorbed his power,” said Malcolm. “Using my power mimicry.”

Tapestry stiffened. She looked over at him, her mouth forming a tiny o.

“You… what?”

“It was an accident,” said Malcolm. “He was sloshing drunk, and we were both flying. He slammed into me and I grabbed his wrist, and it just happened.”

“Malcolm.” Tapestry shook her head and tightened her hands on the wheel. “No… That’s not okay. Here, take mine instead.”

Malcolm frowned.

“What? Why?”

“You can’t have Savior’s powers, Malcolm!” she said. “Think about how many different ways this could end horribly. What happens if you accidently use them and… blow up a building with an energy blast, or something?

“Tapestry, I can’t even make his powers work,” he said. “It doesn’t feel like it normally does. Like, there’s nothing new, nothing beyond what I could do before.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, voice firm. “Here, go ahead.”

She reached her hand over to him. Malcolm shook his head.

“You’re worrying over nothing,” he said. “It will be fine.”

Tapestry slowed the car, putting on her blinker and pulling into a spot on the street. She put it in park and turned her full attention onto him.

“Malcolm,” she said. “This isn’t me giving you advice. Take my power instead of Savior’s, right now, or I’m telling him everything.”

“Tapestry, you’re being ridiculous!”

“Maybe so…” she said. “But it’s an issue of trust. The reason I let your power mimicry slide in the first place was because I thought you were going to be a responsible adult with it.”

Malcolm scowled and shook his head.

“Maybe me keeping Savior’s powers is the responsible thing to do,” he suggested.

Tapestry reached her hand out again.

She’s serious. And she isn’t going to change her mind.

“Fine.” Malcolm took her hand into his, and was a bit surprised by how soft it felt. He looked into Tapestry’s eyes, feeling the familiar tingle of absorbing a power after a couple of seconds. He kept staring at her afterward, feeling the tension between them build. Tapestry’s cheeks reddened slightly.

“Well?” she asked. “Did you do it yet?”

“Like thirty seconds ago,” said Malcolm. “You just had a really cute expression on your face.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Let’s keep moving, then,” she said. “Greenthumb and Morph will be glad to see us.”

CHAPTER 11

Vanderbrook General Hospital was a better equipped facility than the town really deserved. Malcolm and Tapestry walked through a clean, white hallway, past nurses and doctors pushing patients and carrying clipboards.

They spotted Anna before they’d made it all the way to Greenthumb’s room. She was sitting in a chair in the hallway outside of it, reading a book with a bare-chested man on the front cover. She didn’t notice them approaching, and Malcolm poked her in the shoulder to say hello.

“Wind Runner,” said Anna. “And Tapestry. About time.”

“Savior’s arrived safe and sound,” said Tapestry.

“I know, I saw on the news,” said Anna. “What’s the plan?”

“He just wants you to report in,” said Tapestry. “I’m not sure if he has anything specific.”

“I bet he does,” said Malcolm. “Even if it’s just to have Anna provide entertainment in bird form.”

“Hey!” snapped Anna.

“The joke is on him, not you,” said Malcolm. “He’s a little eccentric.”

To put it mildly.

“Anyway, how is Greenthumb holding up?” asked Tapestry.

Anna furrowed her brow. She looked worried, but not overly so.

“He’s recovering,” she said. “He suffered a pretty severe concussion, along with a punctured lung and some internal bleeding. And he had a seizure after they checked him into the hospital.”

“Ouch,” said Malcolm. “Not fun. Hey, why are you out here, and not waiting with him in his room?”

Anna cleared her throat, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Ben’s girlfriend isn’t overly fond of me,” she said, in a careful tone. “I usually give them privacy whenever she stops by.”

“You’ve been guarding him nonstop?” asked Tapestry.

“Only during the day,” said Anna. “It’s boring, but necessary. I dip out to fly around the area every hour or so, not that I’d be able to spot monsters approaching unless they were obvious about it.”

“You’re pretty dedicated,” said Malcolm.

Anna blushed.

“I’d… do the same for any injured champion on our team,” she said. “Even though technically Ben worked in the field, and not just in Vanderbrook. Still the same, though.”

“Right,” said Malcolm. “Nothing to read into there.”

Tapestry rolled her eyes at him.

“Morph, you should probably head to my place to report in with Wax and Savior,” she said. “Greenthumb will be alright on his own. If Rain Dancer’s faction was going to make a move against him, they would have already done it.”

“You’re probably right,” said Anna. She hesitated for a second. “Just… tell Ben that I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Sure,” said Malcolm, smiling.

Anna headed down the hallway, toward the elevator. The door to Greenthumb’s hospital room was closed, and the shades were drawn over the windows on either side. Malcolm knocked, and heard a familiar male voice invite them in.

Greenthumb was wearing a hospital gown, and had a clean bandage wrapped around his head. He looked tired and thin, which was a little worrying, given his usually hardy appearance. A woman with brown hair and a baby in her arms sat in a chair next to his bed, frowning.

“Wind Runner…” said Greenthumb. “And Tapestry. Good to see the two of you.”

“Good to see you, too, Ben,” said Tapestry. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” said Greenthumb. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m ready to get back into the field.”

The woman glared at Greenthumb.

“No, you aren’t,” she said, her voice sharp. “Ben, we talked about this.”

“Carol…” Greenthumb sighed. “I’m not retiring. I know you want me to, but it just isn’t happening.”

“You aren’t in your twenties anymore, Ben!” said the woman. “And really… think about what you’re doing? Think about what your job involves. Why would you want to keep doing that?”

“Because I’m good at it,” said Greenthumb. “And because I enjoy it.”

“You enjoy killing innocent people?” asked Carol.

“The monsters aren’t innocent!” snapped Greenthumb.

The baby started crying. Greenthumb’s girlfriend shot him a look, and slowly coaxed the child back to silence.

“Ben…” she said. “There’s a reason why protests are happening, all around the country. You… might be on the wrong side of history.”

She shot Malcolm and Tapestry an apologetic look.

I feel like now would be a good time for us to leave…

“We’ve talked about this before, Carol,” said Greenthumb. “You know I’m not going to change my mind. Let’s just let it drop for now.”

Greenthumb’s girlfriend sighed and focused her attention down on the child in her arms.

“Anyway,” said Greenthumb. “Let Savior know that I’ll check in with him as soon as the doctors clear me for duty. It shouldn’t be more than a few days, if not later this afternoon.”

“I will,” said Tapestry. She nodded to both Greenthumb and his girlfriend, and left the hospital room.

“Wind Runner,” said Greenthumb. “Hold on a sec.”

Malcolm stopped short of the door. Greenthumb looked him in the eyes, his face growing very serious.

“Let me know if you hear anything about Melt,” he said.

Melt had been Greenthumb’s former partner, a champion who’d turned into a demon during a fight with Rose. Malcolm had been there too, and had in a real sense been at least slightly culpable in Melt’s transformation, having fought to break the battle up instead of fighting against his friend.

“I will,” said Malcolm. “I… I’m sorry. For what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Greenthumb. He held Malcolm’s gaze, and there was something vaguely intrusive about the way his eyes bored into him. “Don’t hesitate, if you go up against him. Fight with everything you have. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll kill you or any other champion that tries to show him mercy.”

“Ben!” snapped Carol. “That’s your partner that you’re talking about! How can you say that?”

Greenthumb cleared his throat.

“You should go catch up with Tapestry,” he said, to Malcolm.

“Right,” he said. “Take care.”

He left the hospital room, feeling a bit shaken.

CHAPTER 12

Tapestry was waiting in the parking lot, leaning against her BMW with her phone. She glanced up at Malcolm as he walked toward her, the wind blowing a few strands of blonde hair across her face.

“Wax says we need to drop by the house to pick up the clothes he bought for us,” she said. “We’ll head out to the casino as soon as we do.”

“Sounds good.” Malcolm climbed into the passenger seat. “Know anything about our target? Golden Joab… it’s hard to guess at much from his name.”

“A couple of news reports, here and there,” said Tapestry, sounding a little discouraged. “I’m surprised Savior is sending us after him. The only reason why there’s buzz around him potentially being gifted is because nobody has figured how he does his tricks.”

Malcolm considered it for a moment.

“That would probably be the easiest approach for us to take, you know,” he said. “If we could catch him using his powers in action, in the middle of a show, he wouldn’t be able to ignore the Champion Authority’s attention any longer.”

Tapestry shrugged.

“Maybe,” she said. “It’s funny, the reason why he can still make a living off his magic is because nobody can prove that he’s gifted. People don’t like watching people that have proven superpowers doing that kind of show. It’s as though it ruins the mystery of it.”

“People are weird,” said Malcolm. “News at 11.”

Tapestry smirked at him.

Wax had several bags already packed for them back at Tapestry’s house. Tapestry spoke with Melanie for a couple of minutes, reiterating her message about parties being off limits.

“I’m serious, Melanie,” she said. “It isn’t about me not wanting you to have fun. It would draw too much attention to the house, which is currently serving as our temporary headquarters.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at trusting people?” asked Melanie.

Malcolm chuckled.

“We should get moving,” he said. “Wax, is there anything else we should know?”

Wax ran a hand over his smooth, bald head.

“I suspect that Rain Dancer might also make a move on Golden Joab soon,” said Wax. “Possibly at the same time as the two of you. Be on guard. This could end up being a much more dangerous assignment than it sounds.”

“Sure, sure,” said Malcolm.

We’re staying at a hotel in a casino. Even if it’s dangerous, it’ll still be the most fun I’ve had at work in a very long time.

“Alright,” said Tapestry. She looked at Melanie. “Remember to lock the doors before heading to bed. We’ll be back soon.”

The Hawktail Casino was a couple of hours outside of Vanderbrook, nestled in a small slice of Native American territory in the middle of a wildlife reserve. The area was ill suited for farming, with only scrub grass and weeds growing for miles around.

The drive went quickly, with Malcolm taking a turn for the second half. The casino stood out like a sore thumb on the empty grass plains. It was several buildings, more of a small, urban settlement than a single structure.

The hotel was a ten-story tower with all the expected extras. There were several pools on one side, a large garden with a couple of greenhouses in the back, and several outdoor eating areas. The casino itself was a long rectangular building attached by a slender hallway. Everything was plastered with neon lights and gaudy decorations.

Malcolm drove the car into the main parking area, leaving it to a valet as several bagboys helped them with their luggage. Tapestry looked a little out of her element, which was also exactly how he felt.

“I guess… we check in and head up to the room Savior booked for us?” he suggested.

“Sounds as good of an idea as any,” said Tapestry.

The front entrance doors were automatic, and slid open with a whoosh. The lobby on the other side was playing soft jazz music. A clerk sat behind the counter, smiling and nodding to Malcolm and Tapestry as they approached.

“Hello,” said Malcolm. “We have a reservation. It should be under ‘Adams’, I think.”

It was the fake last name Savior had instructed him to use. Malcolm watched, a little nervous, as the clerk considered them.

“Ah, right,” said the clerk. “The newlyweds. Your father in law was very specific about the two of you getting a romantic room.”

“My… father in law,” said Malcolm. “Sure, of course.”

“It’s already paid for,” said the clerk. “All I need from the two of you is a signature, and you can head right on up to the Erotic Suite.”

“What?” Tapestry frowned and folded her arms.

“That’s what it’s called,” said the clerk. “Complete with a jacuzzi, a vibrating bed, a cabinet full of scented oils, various toys, and edible underwear. I’ve hear nothing but praise for it from the other couples who’ve stayed there. The two of you are quite fortunate that it was available.”

“You hear that, honey?” said Malcolm, grinning. “It sounds like we’ll have lots of stuff to play around with.”

Tapestry’s face turned deep, crimson red. She looked like she was suppressing the urge to glare at Malcolm, and struggling with it.

She needs to work on her acting skills.

“The bag boys will bring your luggage up,” said the clerk. “For the Erotic Suite, the general cleaning format is reversed, so our staff will only come into the room if you place the paper signal on the door knob. Keep that in mind, especially if the two of you have an… intense night.”

“We… we’re just… it’s not…” Tapestry spoke through gritted teeth, trying and failing to find a way to explain the situation without blowing their cover.

“She’s a little reserved when it comes to this kind of thing,” said Malcolm, putting an arm around her. “Come on shnookums, let’s go check out that edible underwear.”

“I… am going… to murder you,” whispered Tapestry.

They followed the bagboy into the elevator, up to the seventh floor, and then into a large, romance themed suite. The bed was in the shape of a massive heart, and there were several strategically placed mirrors on the walls and ceiling.

“Thanks,” Malcolm said to the bagboy. He gave him a small tip before he left, shutting the door and turning to find Tapestry checking for something under the bed.

“There must be… some type of smaller sleeping futon here, or something,” she said.

There wasn’t, and other than a couple of chairs, it was just the bed and the floor for sleeping options.

“We’ll have to share the bed,” said Malcolm. “Will you survive that, or is it too traumatic for you?”

“I’m sure they have something,” said Tapestry. “We could get in touch with the front desk.”

“We have a cover to keep up, remember?” asked Malcolm. “What’s your deal? It’s not like we haven’t, well, you know…”

He and Tapestry had been intimate with each other on a couple of occasions in the past, though it wasn’t a regular thing. Their last encounter had been before their headquarters had been destroyed, and neither of them had spoken of it since.

“What’s my deal?” asked Tapestry. “This is insulting. Marriage isn’t something that you just ‘pretend’ for the sake of a cover story.”

“Well…” Malcolm walked up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. “Maybe we should take our pretending to the next level?”

Tapestry elbowed him in the stomach, hard. Malcolm doubled over, staring at her in surprise.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this before…

“I’m not going to debase the sanctity of real marriage for the sake of a disguise,” she said, bitterly.

“You could have just said that!” said Malcolm. “Jeez, has anyone ever told you that you have really sharp elbows?”

Tapestry’s expression softened a little.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just… I was married once. For many years… before I lost my husband.”

She sat down on the bed, and Malcolm joined her, after determining that she was no longer in a mood for violence.

“My bad,” he said.

“I’m going to take a shower,” said Tapestry.

Malcolm stood up when she did. He held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Relax,” he said. “I just want to check out the jacuzzi.”

And okay… maybe I was possibly hoping to jump in the shower with her.

CHAPTER 13

Malcolm had seen swimming pools with less water volume than the jacuzzi in their bathroom. It was currently empty, but the massive, auto-filling spigot promised that it wouldn’t take long to ready if they so desired.

Tapestry gave him the evil eye until he left the bathroom once she was ready for the shower. Malcolm listened to the sound of her starting the water, suddenly feeling like it had been an eternity since he’d seen her naked.

Tapestry is so mean.

He found the remote for the flat screen against the wall across from the bed and turned it on. Surprisingly, it was tuned in to one of the Vanderbrook local news stations.

“The #nosavior movement has been gaining in popularity online,” said the female anchor. “Many people in Vanderbrook blame the champions for the recent episodes of unrest.”

“It’s easy to understand why, Diane,” said the male anchor. “More often than not, their battles against the demons and sprytes they hunt spill over into the streets, causing property damage and often death.”

“The support is not unanimous, however,” said the female anchor. “The counter movement, #savedme, is also gaining in popularity. Joining us live is Brett Larson, with a local woman who says that she has indeed been saved. Brett?”

The scene cut to the street, where another anchor stood with a finger to his ear.

“Thanks, Diane,” said Brett. “A local bank in Vanderbrook suffered a robbery a week and a half ago. I’m here with Misha Bartwell, who says that a champion showed up and saved the day.”

The camera panned to a woman standing next to Brett. Malcolm recognized her immediately.

“Not just the day,” said the woman. “Wind Runner saved me. The bank robbers were unloading their guns. There was nowhere for us to run, or hide. If he hadn’t been there, I would be dead.”

“You heard it here,” said Brett.

“I’m serious!” said the woman. “It’s easy to blame the champions for their failures, because we’ve grown so used to their successes. It’s not about a movement, or a counter movement. It’s about the fact that I’m still alive, because of him.”

Malcolm turned the TV off. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning, ear to ear.

Tapestry was still in the shower, and Malcolm felt bored and a little antsy. He opened his luggage and looked at the clothes that Wax had prepared for him.

It was all high-end stuff, suit jackets, dress shirts and pants, and several clip-on bow ties. Malcolm also found a pair of nerdy looking glasses with a note attached to them.

“Wear these so nobody recognizes you as Wind Runner?” Malcolm frowned as he read it out loud.

Who would be dumb enough to think that a pair of glasses would disguise someone’s identity?

He kept the glasses nearby, figuring that it was better than nothing, and it was important for him to go unnoticed. He changed into a full suit, surprised by how perfectly it fit him, and then put the glasses on.

“Tapestry,” he called. “I’m heading down to the casino.”

There was no response. Malcolm made sure that he had one of the electric key cards for the door, and then headed down the hall to the elevator.

The casino was down another hallway off the side of the lobby. It was everything Malcolm could have expected, and more. Everyone was dressed in expensive clothing. People were already drinking, even though it was still early in the evening.

Beautiful women stood at the sides of pompous looking men as games of cards, dice, and roulette played out. Cocktail waitresses in revealing dresses swirled through the room with platters of exotic looking drinks.

“Mr. Adams?” One of the floor managers, a tall, professional looking woman, stepped up next to him. “Would you like to put any more money onto your betting account?”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

“Any… more money?” he asked.

“Yes,” said the woman. “You have a current allowance of twenty thousand, but if you were interested, we could leverage that up to twice that amount through the casino’s credit program.”

“Twenty thousand… dollars?” said Malcolm.

“Yes,” said the woman.

He felt his head spinning. That was more money than he could ever imagine gambling with. It made him feel very strange knowing that Savior had put that much onto his account for betting, while Malcolm’s own bank balance was currently in the low double digits.

“I…” Malcolm slowly shook his head. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Perhaps with a drink?” The floor manager nodded to a passing cocktail waitress, and suddenly Malcolm had a tropical looking drink in his hand.

“Sure,” he said.

“If you’re new to gambling in general, I would suggest you give dice poker a try,” said the woman. “It’s a very simple game, easy to get into and unique to the Hawktail. Stakes are low, and most guests just play for fun.”

“Dice poker?” asked Malcolm. “Like Yahtzee?”

The floor manager gave him a queer look, as though she had no idea what he was talking about. She set one of her hands on his shoulder and subtly began leading him over to a small, circular table in the corner. Malcolm adjusted his fake glasses and cleared his throat.

“Mr. Fleschman,” said the floor manager. “I’ve found you a new player.”

A short, fat man stood at one side of the dice poker table, with a bombshell of a brunette on his arm. A uniformed woman who was either a dealer, or a banker was also at the table. Malcolm thanked the floor manager and took his spot across from the fat man.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” said Malcolm. “I’m… John Adams.”

“Like the President,” said the fat man. “Exquisite. My name is Hans Fleischmann, and this is my wife, Olga.”

“It is a pleasure,” said the attractive brunette. She was wearing a sparkling blue dress, low cut enough to reveal the extensive cleavage of her large breasts. She held Malcolm’s gaze for long enough to make him sweat.

“It’s fine if I join your game?” he asked.

“Of course,” said Hans. “Are you familiar with the rules?”

Not even close.

“I am,” said Malcolm. “But why don’t you… go over them once more, in case I’m mistaken about something.”

“You just roll five dice,” said Hans. “And try to get pairs. If you roll five numbers in numerical order, you get a straight, which beats all hands other than five of a kind. All dice are visible to all players at all times, so it’s really a game of luck, rather than skill.”

“Got it,” said Malcolm. “So it is kind of like Yahtzee.”

Hans gave him an odd look, and then went on explaining as though he hadn’t heard him.

Is that like a dirty word around here, or something?

“You roll once to start,” said Hans. “Pick which dice to hold. Reroll the others. Really quite simple.”

The uniformed woman was already setting out chips, about five thousand dollars’ worth for each of them, onto their respective sides of the table. Malcolm frowned, feeling like he was still in over his head, but also vaguely aware of the fact that it wasn’t his money he’d be losing.

“Well then,” said Hans. “Shall we begin?”

CHAPTER 14

Malcolm lost the first hand in short order, getting a pair on his first roll and nothing additional on the second. The pot was only $400, between the two of them, but it was a weird sensation watching that much money slide across the table, out of his hands.

“The opposite of beginner’s luck,” said Hans. “I hope that does not scare you away?”

“Of course not,” said Malcolm.

“You should be careful,” said Olga, Hans’ wife. “Hans is very good at finding his opponent’s weaknesses.”

She leaned forward slightly, adjusting her brunette braid and pushing her breasts out. Malcolm tried his best to not ogle.

“Where are you from, John?” asked Hans. “International, or here in the states?”

It took Malcolm a second to realize that he was John, and react accordingly.

“Canada,” he said. “I live in, uh, Toronto. Newly married.”

Hans and his wife made a noise of approval.

“You must have quite a fun wife to come to a place like this on your honeymoon,” said Hans.

The two of them rolled the dice for another hand. Malcolm kept three fives, and picked up the two other dice to reroll.

“And yourself?” asked Malcolm.

“Vacation,” said Hans. “I operate an exotic animal hunting operation in Tanzania.”

Malcolm quirked an eyebrow. Hans looked like he barely did much walking, let alone hunting.

“Like… tracking lions and rhinos?” he asked, frowning as he considered how distasteful he personally found that kind of thing.

“We have a reservation,” said Hans. “Most of my clients are more interested in the trophy, than the experience.”

Malcolm took his second roll, ending up with nothing additional to the three of a kind. Hans won the round with a full house, and almost a thousand dollars of Malcolm’s betting money.

I can’t keep losing like this. If this game is really luck based, I shouldn’t be losing this much…

“It sounds like the animals don’t get much of a chance,” said Malcolm.

“It’s not good business to give them a chance,” said Hans, chuckling. Next to him, his wife Olga sighed and rolled her eyes.

They started another round. Malcolm had a terrible first roll, and Hans took advantage of it, betting heavily and forcing him to fold early. He was already down several thousand dollars.

“Would you like another drink, Mr. Adams?” asked a cocktail waitress.

“Uh…”

She passed him another of whatever he’d been drinking before into his hand, accepting his hesitation as a yes.

“So, what do you do, John?” asked Hans. “You must have quite the career to afford to honeymoon in a place like this.”

“I… work for a security firm,” said Malcolm. “I’m an executive there.”

“Sounds exciting,” said Olga.

“It can be, at times,” said Malcolm. “It’s an international operation. The line of work has its perks, but can also be a little stressful.”

If they only knew the half of it…

He played a few more hands, continuing to lose money at an alarming rate. Malcolm didn’t feel any real attachment to the chips or the value behind them. He was resigned to losing it, if he had to, for the sake of keeping his cover, as long as he and Tapestry were successful in their mission.

“This is an exciting weekend at the Hawktail,” said Hans. “It was my wife’s idea to fly out here. Very spur of the moment.”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he asked. “And why’s that?”

“Golden Joab,” said Olga. “He is a magician who performs for the public very rarely. I am… a big fan of his.”

“A big fan?” Malcolm smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I’d love to ask you some questions, if you have the time to talk.”

Both Olga and Hans started laughing. Malcolm took his next roll, not really paying attention and not really caring about whether he won or lost.

“John, that’s a new one,” said Hans. “I’ve grown very used to men propositioning my wife over the years. Usually not men so young, and usually not with that much subtly.”

“I’m serious,” said Malcolm. “I’ve heard a lot about Golden Joab. I’d love to get some more information, if your wife is a fan.”

“You should focus on the game, John!” said Hans. “I feel bad taking all your money.”

It wasn’t far from the truth. Malcolm was down to his last five thousand. He licked his lips, considering his options, and decided to try something stupid.

He bet a thousand at the start of the next round, before either of them had rolled. Hans made a scoffing noise, but called the bet without hesitation. Malcolm took his time shaking the dice, and threw them hard against the inner wall of the rolling space.

Reaching out with the wind, Malcolm gave each of the dice a small directed push as they came to a stop. He kept it from being anything too egregious, giving himself three fours and a six. Hans frowned at the lucky throw, his own leaving him with only a pair.

“Interesting…” said Hans.

It’s cheating, but come on… Nobody is going to know.

Malcolm did the same thing with his next roll, and then continued with it for the following few rounds. In a span of twenty minutes, he went from having five thousand dollars’ worth of chips to almost thirty thousand. Hans was fuming across the table from him.

“Let’s make it a little more interesting,” said Hans, pushing all his remaining chips in. “This next roll decides the game, John.”

Malcolm nodded slowly, keeping his expression cool.

“Sure,” he said. He pushed all his chips in, not even bothering to look at what the other man had after his first roll.

“You are so confident,” said Hans. “You must know the odds of you winning this round. You have nothing.”

“Nothing but luck,” said Malcolm.

And the power to manipulate the dice.

He rerolled all five of his dice, giving himself a straight. Hans had two pairs, and made a noise a little like the sound of a dying car engine. He sank to his knees across from the table, Olga dropping down to comfort him.

Hans cleared his throat and finally stood up. His face was red, and he took a deep breath to steady himself before speaking.

“That… was not technically my money that I just lost,” he said. “It belonged to… my business. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. You mentioned asking my wife some questions before?”

Olga flashed a flirtatious smile at Malcolm from across the table.

“I think we can definitely work something out,” said Malcolm.

CHAPTER 15

Malcolm left the table with Hans and Olga, following them back into the hotel and then up to their room. Hans whispered with his wife for most of the way, and stopped in front of the door to his room, letting her go inside ahead of him and Malcolm.

“Two hours,” said Hans. “All that I ask is that you be safe and careful. She is not on the pill.”

Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up.

“I, uh, meant what I said before,” he said. “I just want to ask her some questions.”

“Sure, whatever,” said Hans. “Well, it’s been a while for the two of us, so I’m sure she’d be more than willing to answer your ‘questions’, John.”

He walked off down the hallway without looking back. Malcolm knocked on the doorframe and then stepped into the couple’s room, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, Olga?” called Malcolm. He didn’t see her in the bedroom. “Where’d you disappear to?”

The bathroom door opened, and Olga walked. She’d taken her hair out of the braid, but Malcolm almost didn’t notice. All of his attention was on her body, and on the fact that she’d changed into lingerie.

Olga’s big breasts were held only by a sheer, white lingerie bra, her pink nipples showing through the thin fabric. The panties were part of a matching set, and she also wore fishnet stockings, held up by a white lace garter belt.

Malcolm’s jaw dropped open. She smiled confidently as she walked up to him, letting her hips sway from side to side with each step.

“My husband is so careless with his wild betting,” said Olga. “I guess I’ll have to be the one to clean up his mess, yes?”

She stepped in close to Malcolm, letting her hand run over his crotch. He already had an erection, and his heart skipped a beat as she began massaging it through his pants.

“I… just needed some information,” he said, feeling stupid.

“Some information?” Olga smiled wickedly. “Perhaps you’d like to know… what my mouth feels like, on various parts of your body?”

“Actually… I, uh… need to know…” Malcolm was finding it suddenly very hard to focus.

Olga spun around, pushing her big, soft butt against his hardness. She took his hands and slid them over her stomach, up to her breasts. They felt incredible against Malcolm’s palms. He tried to keep his head clear. It was impossible.

“These feel better than boring, plastic chips,” whispered Olga. “Don’t they?”

She wiggled her butt against Malcolm’s erection, slowly bending forward to lean against the bed. She looked over her shoulder at him expectantly.

“You wouldn’t leave a woman waiting, would you?” she asked. “Or do you not know how to play this game as well as the ones in the casino?”

Malcolm had his pants off in record time. He nearly tackled Olga onto the bed, his horniness suddenly overwhelming any sense of logic or reason left in him. He lifted her butt up, finding that she was already wet, and slid into her, taking her from behind.

Olga let out a high-pitched squeal as he began to thrust. There was something aggressive and animalistic about the encounter. She was another man’s wife, but for the moment, she was his, to use and play with as he wanted.

This is stupid… but if feels really good.

He ripped Olga’s bra slightly in his haste to get it off her. She didn’t seem to mind. Malcolm groped at her naked breasts as he pumped his shaft into her. Olga put her hands over his, as though trying to lock him into place.

Her butt, though not overly large, felt amazing as padding against his crotch. Malcolm pushed her down against the bed, each of his forward movements sliding them a little further until the only thing between her head and the wall was a single pillow.

“Mr. Adams!” cried Olga. “Oh… is this how you… treat a married woman?”

Malcolm responded by giving her butt a soft slap, which elicited a squeal of delight. Olga shifted, rolling to face him. Malcolm kissed her, sliding back into place and taking her in the missionary position.

He didn’t last long. Olga was a stunning specimen of a woman, and Malcolm was a young, hot blooded male. He kissed her breasts, slamming into her with all the strength his muscles could muster, and found his release… without pulling out.

Whoops…

Malcolm felt pleasure wash over him, followed by a wave of regret. He was an idiot, and had done something to serve no purpose other than those of his hormones. He scowled and reached for his boxers.

“Sorry,” he said. “This is… just a big misunderstanding. I really came up here to ask you questions about the magician. Honestly!”

He pulled his boxers on and turned around to face Olga. She had a small camera in her hand, one of the hidden varieties designed for secret recording.

“Unfortunately,” said Olga. “I have a recording of this misunderstanding. Unless you wish for your newlywed wife to find out about what just happened, you will be paying my husband and I our money back, along with all of yours.”

Malcolm couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He took a few breaths, calming himself down enough to speak as he pulled the rest of his clothing back on.

“Oh no,” he said, mockingly. “Please, don’t tell my wife. Anything but that.”

“We are not bluffing, Mr. Adams,” said Olga.

“Was the thing about you not being on the pill that your husband told me part of it, too?”

Olga smiled and nodded.

“We are not that foolish,” she said.

“Clearly,” said Malcolm. “Well, it’s been fun. I’ll be taking my leave.”

He clipped on his bow tie, donned his fake glasses, and made for the door.

“Hey!” shouted Olga. “We are serious!”

“Of course you are,” said Malcolm. “Tell your husband that I had fun!”

He headed down the hallway and stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for his floor. It was in the middle of closing when two beefy men wearing black sunglasses slipped in. They stepped into position on either side of Malcolm, both of them dwarfing him by several inches and at least a hundred pounds.

“Uh…” He scratched his head, unsure of what to say.

“We work for the casino,” said the man to his right. “Mike Redhawk would like to speak with you about your amazing winning streak, Mr. Adams.”

Ah, man. Just when I thought I’d gotten away with it.

The men pressed the button for the basement, and the three of them began descending. Malcolm considered whether he could take both using his wind manipulation. It seemed like a bad idea. Even if he managed to render them unconscious, there would be footage of it from the elevator’s camera, and it would blow his cover.

He played it cool, waiting until the elevator came to a stop. The door opened and the two men pushed him forward by the shoulder. Malcolm scowled at them, but walked out into a hallway, and then into a dimly lit room that smelled slightly of cigarette smoke.

A Native American man with a pony tail and a nice suit sat behind a desk. He gestured for Malcolm to sit, which his two escorts were all too happy to help him do.

“My name is Mike Redhawk,” said the man. “My tribe owns this casino.”

“Under any other circumstances, it would be nice to meet you,” said Malcolm. “John Adams.”

Mike smiled, and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Well, John,” he said. “Do you know what the odds are of some of the winning rolls you had for dice poker?”

“Never tell me the odds,” said Malcolm.

Mike Redhawk tapped his fingers on his desk. There was a computer monitor on his desk, and he took it and swiveled it around.

“The jig is up, you piece of shit,” said Mike. “We know who you are. My computer guy was able to reverse engineer an image of your face with advanced recognition software, rebuilding with a ninety-nine percent probability of what it would look like… without the glasses.”

“You could have just asked me to take them off,” said Malcolm.

“So, Wind Runner,” said Mike. “You think you can come into my casino and use your damn powers to cheat at the games?”

Malcolm shrugged. One of the guards cuffed him across the head. Malcolm reacted without thinking, pushing out with the wind and slamming the man into a wall across the room.

The other guard pulled a gun. Malcolm knocked it out of his hand before he could take aim, leaping out of chair and punching the man hard in the stomach.

“Enough!” shouted Mike. “Don’t antagonize him. Wind Runner, I brought you here to talk. I’m a man who likes to work out his problems with words, rather than violence.

I wonder what that’s like?

“Alright,” said Malcolm. “If you want to talk… How about you tell me about Golden Joab?”

Mike’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Give me your word that you won’t steal any money from the casino by abusing your powers,” said Mike.

Malcolm sighed. He’d had a lot of fun with the dice poker, and had already started working out a strategy for roulette.

“Fine,” said Malcolm. “Now, tell me what I want to know.”

CHAPTER 16

“Golden Joab is eccentric,” said Mike. “But he is still a man.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Malcolm.

Mike shook his head.

“He’s not gifted,” he said. “And he’s definitely not a spryte or demon. I’m assuming that’s why you’re here, Mr. Wind Runner.”

“Can you be certain?” asked Malcolm.

Mike shrugged.

“Not certain,” he said. “But, he’s never done much, outside of his shows, that seems superhuman.”

“What’s the best way of getting a private meeting with him?” asked Malcolm.

“He’ll be at the masquerade ball tomorrow night, and his show is on Saturday,” said Mike. “As far as a private meeting goes, I have no idea. The man is very secretive.”

Malcolm considered the information for a moment, and then nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “That’s helpful.”

One of the guards had recovered and was back on his feet. Mike nodded to him, and the guard led Malcolm out of the room and back down the hallway. The two of them shared one of the most uncomfortable elevator rides ever, and then Malcolm stepped out onto his floor.

“Sorry about the punch to the ribs,” said Malcolm. “Don’t know my own strength sometimes. You know how it is.”

The guard said nothing.

Tapestry was still awake when Malcolm got back to the room. She was wearing a nightgown, and tucked most of the way into bed, reading a novel. She frowned at Malcolm as he came through the door.

“Where did you go?” she asked.

“Down to the casino.” Malcolm kicked off his shoes, sighing as he sat own on the bed.

“You smell like perfume,” said Tapestry.

Malcolm turned and looked at her, feeling caught between annoyance and amusement.

“What happened to the whole us not being married thing?” he asked. “You seemed pretty dead set on forcing some space in between us earlier tonight.”

“I’m just pointing it out,” said Tapestry. “It’s a statement of fact. You smell like something, and that something is perfume.”

It’s like I’m getting the nagging part of a marriage without any perks.

“I was just doing my job, Tapestry,” said Malcolm. “And I happen to have some new information on Golden Joab.”

Tapestry set the book aside, her interest piqued.

“Anything we can act on?” she asked.

Malcolm nodded.

“There’s a masquerade ball tomorrow night,” he said. “Joab’s going to be there. We can use it as a chance to get close to him, or at least get a sense of what he’s like as a person.”

“That’s perfect!” she said. “Good work, Wind Runner.”

“Good enough work for me to get a spot in the bed tonight?” asked Malcolm. “I’m not really looking forward to sleeping on the floor.”

Tapestry considered his request for a moment before slowly nodding. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, and it made her look relaxed compared to the pony tail she usually sported for work.

“Cool,” said Malcolm. He started pulling off his suit jacket and dress clothes.

“You’re… undressing?” asked Tapestry.

“I usually sleep in my boxers,” he said. “That’s okay, right?”

She hesitated, her mouth turning down into a small frown.

“I guess,” she said.

Malcolm turned off the room’s overhead lights and joined Tapestry in bed, leaving ample room between them. Tapestry still had on her reading light, but she turned that off, too, and the two settled into bed in a silent, dark room.

A couple of minutes went by. Malcolm found it unusually hard to sleep. He could feel the motion of Tapestry’s breathing through the blanket, and smell the scent of whatever shampoo she’d used earlier in the shower.

Tapestry rolled over, either accidentally or intentionally putting herself into contact with him. Malcolm couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. He stayed where he was for a couple of seconds, and then shifted, putting an arm around her.

He expected Tapestry to stop him, or at least say something, but she didn’t. It felt natural to spoon with her, and shockingly intimate. It felt as though, for once, Tapestry had her guard down, and Malcolm had managed to respond in the correct way.

She’s really soft. And she has a great body. Uh-oh…

It only took another minute for Malcolm to realize the hard predicament he’d put himself into. He considered disengaging from Tapestry and giving himself the space needed to cool down, but it felt too nice cuddling with her to make himself do it. He closed his eyes, and forced himself to sleep.

Malcolm woke at some point during the night to Tapestry nuzzling his neck. She’d shifted, turning so that she was facing Malcolm directly. He couldn’t tell if she was awake or not, but he could feel her against him, her thin night gown doing practically nothing to disguise the fact that she was naked underneath it.

He was still hard. Tapestry let out a soft sigh and shifted her head against his neck. Malcolm’s lips found hers, and as he kissed her, he felt her respond in kind. Malcolm ran a hand down her back, finding the bottom hem of her nightgown and sliding it up until he could grope her soft, naked butt.

Tapestry sighed again, and her hand went to Malcolm’s face. She let her crotch push forward against his and Malcolm kissed her neck.

“Allen…” she whispered, dreamily. “It’s been… so long.”

Allen… That’s her late husband’s name.

Malcolm stopped himself. He disengaged, though it took all the willpower he had. Knowing that Tapestry was still mostly asleep, thinking he was someone else, made him feel a little dirty.

He rolled over in bed. Tapestry cuddled against his back, and he tried to ignore the sensation of her nipples softly pressing in between his shoulder blades.

He didn’t get much sleep.

CHAPTER 17

A free breakfast was delivered to their room the next morning. Malcolm shared waffles and bacon with Tapestry, not daring to bring up their sleeping arrangement from the night before. Tapestry had found an activity brochure, and was slowly flipping through it.

“Here’s the masquerade ball you mentioned,” she said. “It looks like we need to call ahead to reserve ourselves masks, given that we didn’t bring any. I’ll take care of that.”

Malcolm nodded, his thoughts elsewhere.

“It also says that there’s a mediation retreat happening this afternoon in the Hawktail Spa,” said Tapestry. “Interested?”

Malcolm shrugged.

“Sure,” he said.

“I figured you would have rather stayed at the casino and done some more gambling,” said Tapestry. “Surprising…”