Standing, he offered me a gloved hand. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet.
“Why am I always picking you up, Abby?” Talon murmured, his voice low and teasing.
I relished the feel of his hand on mine, even if it was covered by a leather glove. “I suppose because I’m always falling down. Sorry. Being clumsy is a bad habit of mine.”
He flashed me a smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s my job.”
His job. I dropped his hand. He’d given me a hand because it was his job. I wanted him to help me because he liked doing it, liked spending time with me. Not because some stupid superhero code of honor made him put clumsy chicks back on their feet.
“How are you, Abby?” Talon asked, failing to notice my darkening mood. “I came by to check on you.”
“I’m fine, just a little tired. I suppose I should thank you for taking me to Piper’s last night—even if you did knock me out to do it.”
He shrugged, not the least bit sorry about gassing me. “It was a necessary precaution, Abby. Surely, you can understand.”
I did. More than he’d ever realize.
“So what’s going on?” I asked, probing for the real reason behind his visit. He hadn’t come just to see me. I wasn’t that optimistic—or naïve.
“I uncovered some information that might get me closer to Nightingale, to finding out who she really is. Hopefully, that will lead me to the flash drive.”
My heart froze in my chest. “Like what?”
Talon leaned against the edge of the balcony. “I lifted her DNA and a few partial prints off some duct tape she used. I also managed to get my hands on black-and-white surveillance footage of her running away from the Bigtime Convention Center. Unfortunately, the center only has cameras on the front of building, but it should give me a rough idea of what she looks like.”
DNA? Fingerprints? Surveillance footage? Who the hell was he? CSI: Superhero? Hot, sweaty panic gurgled up in my throat, but I forced it down, squashing it with cold, calm reason. I thought back to that night. Okay, so he’d gotten my DNA and prints off the tape, but it wouldn’t help him. I’d never had my DNA tested for anything, and I’d never been fingerprinted.
I’d been wearing a heavy coat, gloves, a toboggan, and a scarf wrapped around my face. More importantly, I didn’t remember looking up when I’d rushed out of the convention center, so he shouldn’t get much from the surveillance camera. Oh, he’d know I had a black coat, but so did thousands of women in Bigtime. He wouldn’t get my hair, eye color, or skin tone. Besides, I had a very average, nondescript sort of face. He wouldn’t know it was me. It would be okay, I told myself. It would have to be.
Still, the fact that he was still looking for me, for Nightingale, touched and unnerved me. You’d think he was Prince Charming and I was some fairy princess he was chasing. The fairest woman in all the land, or some such nonsense, instead of a plain Jane, overworked event planner. The equivalent of an ugly stepsister.
“What about you?” he asked. “Did you find out anything?”
“Well, Bandit ransacked my apartment. Not that that’s particularly helpful, but I thought you should know.”
He nodded. “I don’t want you to go back there until this is over with. You shouldn’t be alone either or work late by yourself.”
“I’ll try to remember all that,” I said with a wry smile. “Tomorrow.”
We stood there, looking at each other.
“Well,” I said, “I hate to be a party pooper, but it’s late, and I’m tired. I’m going to go back to Piper’s and crash for the night. Thanks for dropping by.”
Talon hesitated. Damn that thick visor. I couldn’t tell what emotions swirled behind the blue lenses. “Would you like a lift?”
“What?” I replied, a little confused. “Are you going to call me a taxi or something? Or do you have your own supervan like the Fearless Five do?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Nope. I have something even better.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” I said, staring over the edge of the balcony.
We stood on the ledge. When Talon offered to take me home, he meant getting around the way he did—using his grappling hook to swing from rooftop to rooftop. I stared down at the street again. Thirteen stories looked a lot higher and scarier than it had five minutes ago.
“Do you trust me?” Talon asked, using the same cajoling tone I did with my panicked debutantes.
I bit my lip and nodded. Rascal let out an excited bark from the pocket on my vest. Evidently, the puppy knew exactly what was going on and thought the whole thing was going to be a grand adventure. I hated adventures. I’d always thought adventure was a polite way of saying this is a stupid way to die.
“Then it’ll be okay,” Talon said. “I promise. Now, hold on to me, and don’t let go.”
I wrapped my arms around him as tight as I could, not even caring whether it was appropriate. The G-man superhero’s right arm cinched around my waist like a steel vise. Talon drew his grappling hook gun out of the harness on his leg and pulled the trigger. The silver hook arched out, carrying a long zip line with it, and clanked onto the building across the street. Talon yanked on the solidium cable, ensuring it was firmly anchored. At least, that was what I hoped he was doing. I couldn’t bring myself to look.
“Here we go,” he whispered in my ear.
Talon leapt off the roof, taking me and Rascal with him. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see how very high we were. I wasn’t necessarily scared of heights, just of falling—and being splattered onto the pavement below. But cutting off my vision didn’t help. The rest of my supersenses kicked in, compensating for my blindness. I could feel every part of our descent. The wind pushing against my back. The empty space surrounding us. The sharp tang of terror in my mouth.
We landed on the roof of the building across the street. I didn’t move away from Talon for fear my knees would buckle.
“You know, you might enjoy it a little more if you opened your eyes,” he teased.
“Maybe next time,” I muttered, burying my face against his neck.
Two buildings later, I did manage to open my eyes. We sailed down Talon’s zip line, almost like we were flying. The air was clear up here, clean and fresh and free of the hazy smog that sometimes blanketed Bigtime. I drew a deep breath down into my lungs, enjoying the scent. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
Rascal liked the sensation too. The puppy let out several happy yips, although he seemed to know enough not to squirm around and fall out of my pocket. Still, I sandwiched him between Talon’s body and my own, just in case. We soared from building to building, sailing over the city below. The skyscrapers and office lights twinkled like a carpet of stars beneath us.
Mostly though, I was happy to be with Talon. Even if he was just doing his superhero duty and helping a lost chick get home.
By the time we landed on the roof of Piper’s building, I was sorry to see the evening come to an end.
“Thanks for the lift.” I forced myself to drop my arms from around his neck and step away. “It was really something.”
“Something good or something bad?”
“At first, I would have said something bad, but now I can see why you do it,” I replied. “The feel of the wind in your hair, the sense of flying, the thrill of making the perfect landing. It has its charms.”
Talon smiled. “You’re one of the few people I’ve met who really understands that.”
I gave him a quizzical look. “Why? Don’t you have other superhero friends?”
He shrugged. “Sure. We all help each other out, but I’m a pretty solitary guy. Most of the other heroes in Bigtime have a superpower or two. I don’t, and that sets me apart.”
“So, why do you do it? Why be a superhero if you aren’t like everybody else?”
“I’d like to say I’m doing something noble, like avenging the death of my parents at the hands of an ubervillain or makin
g the world a better place for humanity. Being a symbol for justice. Using my superpowers for the greater good. All the usual motivators.”
“You’re not doing those things?”
“Sorry,” Talon said. “My parents are alive and well. I don’t have a lot of angst or issues, and I don’t consider myself a beacon of hope inspiring others. I just don’t like bullies, and that’s what so many of the ubervillains are. Schoolyard bullies in spandex costumes, and Bigtime is their playground.”
I’d never really thought about it that way before, but I could see his point. “Bullies like Tycoon and Bandit.”
He nodded. “They’re some of the worst ones. Tycoon thinks his money, power, and anonymity make him untouchable. Bandit just enjoys hurting people. If I never accomplish anything else as a superhero, I’m going to find a way to take them down.”
I thought about my shoulder and the way Bandit had hit me. Yeah, the ubervillain liked hurting people.
“It’s not easy not being like the other heroes, not having a power to help me, but what can I say? I like a challenge.” Talon grinned. “Besides, chicks dig superheroes.”
I laughed. “Yeah, they do.”
We fell silent. I thought about Talon’s words, about how he was a loner. And I thought of the events I’d planned, of all the nights I’d stood along the wall and hovered in a dark corner watching everyone else have fun.
“I know what you mean. It’s not easy being different, being an outsider.”
Talon nodded. “No, it’s not.”
“Still, sometimes, it’s nice to be alone.”
He stared at me. “But sometimes it’s even nicer to have someone to share it with.”
My brows pulled together in confusion. Was he—did he mean—could he possibly have enjoyed himself tonight? With me? Abby Appleby, not the mysterious Nightingale?
For the first time since this whole thing started, a bit of hope flared up in my chest, a single match sputtering in a cavern of darkness. But before I could open my mouth to ask him what he meant, Talon raised his gun high and shot his cable up into the sky.
He bowed his head, hit a button on the gun, and soared into the darkness. All I could do was stare at the spot where he’d been.
Rascal let out a plaintive whine, wondering where his new friend Talon had gone and desperately wanting him to come back.
“Me too, boy,” I whispered. “Me too.”
*
I used my key to let myself into Piper’s apartment. She sat at her kitchen table, which was embossed with the Fearless Five logo. Her finger hovered over the buttons on her Hermit phone, as though I’d caught her in mid-dial.
“There you are!” Piper said, getting up and pulling me into a tight hug. “I was getting worried about you. I called your office and your cell, but you didn’t answer. I thought something might have happened.”
“I’m fine,” I said, returning her hug. “I turned the phones off so I could get some work done. I should have told you I would be late. Sorry. But something did happen—Talon showed up at my office.”
Piper wanted all the juicy details right away, but I made her order a Pizzazz pizza first. Over slices topped with ham, pineapple, and extra mozzarella, I told her about Talon appearing on my balcony—and taking me on a moonlight ride across the city.
“How romantic! I wish I had a superhero for a boyfriend.” Her eyes drifted to the Swifte clock on the wall.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I insisted. “He doesn’t even like me. He’s just letting me help him find the flash drive, humoring me because Bandit tried to put a bullet in my head.”
Piper gave me a knowing smirk. “Oh, he’s your boyfriend—he just doesn’t know it yet.”
Pizza forgotten, Piper started talking about how much time we’d been spending together, how he kept showing up wherever I was, and of course, the kicker—the fact that we’d slept together. Piper was so wrapped up in her speech she didn’t even notice when Rascal hopped up in a chair, snatched her half-eaten slice, and downed it in two gulps before either one of us could stop him. She sneezed, absently patted him, and prattled on some more about destiny, karma, and true love.
I let her words wash over me as I helped myself to another slice of pizza. No matter what Piper said, no matter what she proclaimed or what her Mr. Sage calendar said, I knew the truth. There was only one woman Talon was interested in, and it wasn’t me. At least, it wasn’t the real me—it was Nightingale.
I sighed. Rascal took the sound as a cue that he could have some more pizza. He put his nose on the table, nudging the white cardboard box toward the edge. I grabbed the box just before it slid over the side and took the last two pieces with it. Rascal whined, upset over the loss of his pizza.
“Sorry, boy,” I said, getting another slice. “But I need this a lot more than you do.”
*
I spent the night on Piper’s sofa, tossing, turning, and trying not to think about Talon. Rascal awakened me the next morning with a pizza-flavored tongue bath.
“Ugh. You little mutt,” I groused, rubbing his ears. “What am I going to do with you? Besides buy you some toothpaste?”
“I might have a solution.” Piper sat at the kitchen table drinking apple juice and reading the latest edition of The Exposé. “I’ve been talking to some people about taking him off your hands. Kyle said he’d love to have a dog.”
“He did?”
“Yep.”
She tried to pretend like it was nothing, but I could have heard the slight catch in her voice even if I didn’t have superhearing.
“Wait a minute. Why were you talking to Kyle? What happened to I hope the rotten bastard gets an STD and can never have sex again? Remember? That was your latest diabolical thought.”
Piper sighed. “Kyle and I might not be together anymore, but I still care about him. I always will, despite what he did to me. Besides, I should get something out of him dumping me.”
I couldn’t argue with that. There wasn’t much you could do with a broken heart, not even when you were as optimistic as Piper.
“There’s a storage room at Quicke’s where Rascal could stay during the day while Kyle works,” she continued. “I think Kyle wants to make Rascal some sort of mascot. Maybe even dress him up in a little cape. Wouldn’t that be cute?”
“Oh yeah. Cute.”
Rascal barked, as though he liked the idea. I hugged the puppy to my chest. Over the past few days, I’d gotten attached to the little guy. I wasn’t sure how I felt about giving him away. He’d grown on me, wormed his way into my heart as easily as he did everyone else’s. Maybe that was his real superpower.
But it would be better for him to be with someone else. Someone who could really be around for him, instead of shuffling him from place to place. Someone who had time to play with him and feed him and love him. Running my own business sucked up most of my time, and it wouldn’t be fair to Rascal to be locked in my office or loft all day long, to always be at the bottom of my to-do list instead of at the top. He deserved better than that. I wanted him to have better than that.
As much as I would miss Rascal, giving him to Kyle would be for the best. Besides, it would give me another excuse to berate the caterer, if he didn’t take good care of my puppy.
Piper left to go to work, and so did I, taking Rascal with me. By ten o’clock, I’d done everything I should have, except for one item—call Wesley and update him on his event. His was the only message I hadn’t returned.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at my phone. I should call him. I shouldn’t put it off any longer. Shouldn’t wait. And I definitely shouldn’t go see him in person.
My hand hovered over the phone. Rascal raised his head off his cushion. Then, he scrambled up, hurtled across the office, and circled around my feet doing the classic, doggie I-have-to-go-outside-right-now-and-pee-pee-pee dance.
I smiled. The puppy had just given me the perfect excuse to get out of the office and visit Wesley. Two birds with one stone, and
all that. I did so love to multitask.
“Come on, Rascal,” I said, grabbing my coat. “We’re going out.”
*
I clipped Rascal on his leash—the cobalt-blue one Talon had left behind—and headed to Paradise Park. Normally, I avoided the park because of the constant noise and flashing lights. But I cut through the back side that bordered Bigtime Cemetery and let Rascal do his business on the icy grass. Once the puppy finished, I scooped him up and carried him, wanting to get to Wesley’s office building before I lost my nerve.
Ten minutes later, I stepped into the lobby and walked over to the security guard. “Abby Appleby. I’m here to see Mr. Weston.”
“Do you have an appointment?” the guard muttered, shooting me a hostile look. It was the same guy I’d faced down before—the one who hadn’t wanted to let me take Rascal up to Wesley’s office.
“No. But I need to see Mr. Weston and give him this.” I held up a folder that contained the final details for the party.
I could have e-mailed the files. Maybe I should have e-mailed them, but I wanted to see Wesley—for reasons I didn’t want to think too much about right now.
“I can take that for you,” the guard replied, holding out his hand.
I pulled the folder back. “I would prefer to personally put it on his desk.”
I never left anything with assistants because they had an annoying habit of misplacing things. I certainly wasn’t going to leave the folder with Mr. Bad Attitude. He’d chunk it in the trash can before I got out of the building.
The guard looked at me, then at Rascal. “Mr. Weston said he didn’t want to be disturbed this morning.”
That old excuse? I’d only heard it a thousand times before. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Fine,” the guard muttered. “Go on up.”
I rode the elevator up to the penthouse. The doors pinged! open, but the sound didn’t bother me. I was too intent on seeing Wesley to care about the migraine gathering in the base of my skull. I stepped inside the office. The waterfall gurgled and fell as usual. I admired the rock wall before turning toward the desk.