The two of them shared the couch for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other’s company without needing to say anything. Rose was looking closely at his face, and she reached out to gently touch the cut on his cheek.
“What happened there?” she asked, keeping her hand against his face.
“Bullet scratch,” said Malcolm. “Tapestry and I had to stop a shooting at a high school earlier today. We managed to keep anyone from getting killed, but-”
“That’s not what I mean,” said Rose. “It looks like it’s healed already. That doesn’t make sense if it happened earlier today.”
Malcolm shrugged, not really knowing what to say. Rose’s dark eyes were considering him carefully.
“Do you think it’s related to my powers?” he asked.
Rose gave a small shrug.
“It might be,” she said. “Champions sometimes develop multiple powers. It’s rare, but not uncommon. Though, if you were a regenerator, I think you would have noticed signs of it earlier.”
“Tapestry is a regenerator,” said Malcolm.
“Hmm…” Rose licked her lips, frowning slightly. “Did you touch her while she was using her powers?”
A chill ran up the hairs on the back of Malcolm’s neck.
“I think so,” he said. “Yeah, right after I knocked out the shooter.”
It tingled, almost like a static shock, but… weirder. And that was when I first noticed my cheek healing up.
“Here.” Rose stood up from the couch and walked back into Malcolm’s room, where the curtains kept it mostly dark. “Let’s try something.”
She held out her hand to him. She was still only wearing his t-shirt, and there was something strangely intimate about setting his palm on top of hers. Rose wiggled the fingers of her other hand, summoning several shadow tendrils around her. Malcolm felt a tingling sensation a bit like touching a live electrical current. At the same time, his cheek started hurting again.
“Huh,” he said. “Did you just… give me your power?”
“It’s called power mimicry,” said Rose. “Apparently, you have it as a secondary ability. You can copy the power of someone else and use it for yourself. Probably not at the full strength of the original user, but it’s still an incredibly useful ability to have.”
“Cool,” said Malcolm.
“You should try to keep that secret from the Champion Authority,” said Rose. “Power mimicry is what they call an uncontrolled power.”
“Uncontrolled power?” asked Malcolm. “What does that mean?”
“It’s kind of an arbitrary label,” said Rose. “What it really means is that if they find out you have it, they’ll… take action. Possibly imprison you in one of their quarantine zones. You should probably start wearing gloves.”
Malcolm stared at her in surprise. He was about to ask her for details when another question came to mind that he was even more curious about.
“How do you know all this stuff, while not being able to remember who you were and how you became a spryte?”
It was the wrong question to ask. Rose blinked a couple of times. She opened her mouth, and then shut it. A sad smile spread across her lips.
“I think it’s just part of being a spryte,” she said, quietly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” said Malcolm.
“No, it’s okay,” said Rose. “It’s a good question. It really is.”
Malcolm walked over to her. He wanted to pull her into a hug, but something about it seemed to presumptive. They could fool around, have sex, and enjoy each other’s company, but there was another level of intimacy that still seemed off limits. He took her hands instead, holding them in his and squeezing.
“I’m fine,” she said. “And you’ve helped me, Malcolm. I don’t know if you realize how much. The more time I spend on my focus activity, the more I can remember, and the more control I have.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow.
“What’s your focus activity?” he asked.
Rose blushed, which looked ridiculously cute, given her skin tone.
“Sex,” she said. “I thought you’d figured that out?”
Oh. Right. That makes sense.
Again, he found himself not knowing quite what to say.
“What’s yours?” asked Rose.
Malcolm grinned at her.
“Listening to 90s rock music,” he said.
Rose made a valiant attempt at holding her laughter in before it became too much for her. She pulled away from him, almost doubling over in laughter.
“Hey!” said Malcolm. “There are plenty of great hits from that era! Some of the best music ever made!”
CHAPTER 17
Rose was still laughing when the knock came at the door. It was a heavy, deliberate knock, and it reminded Malcolm of some of the high school parties he’d been to that had been raided by the police. He frowned, noticing how it immediately put Rose on edge.
Malcolm slowly moved over to the door, staying totally silent as he looked through the peephole. Two men stood outside, both carrying themselves with deliberate, confident posture. They waited for a couple of seconds, and then one of them knocked again, calling out as he did.
“Malcolm Caldwell. Wind Runner. We’re field agents with the Champion Authority. We need to speak with you.”
Malcolm resisted the urge to swear under his breath. He glanced over his shoulder at Rose. She was slowly shaking her head, her eyes wide with fear. It was infectious, and Malcolm felt his palms go clammy.
“Please…” mouthed Rose. “No…”
The sun hadn’t yet fully set over the horizon. Malcolm doubted that Rose could hide from them in his bedroom for very long, especially if one or both had flashlights to search with. Her powers couldn’t save her.
“What can I do?” whispered Malcolm.
“Just stall them, if you can. If we can make it until dark, I can escape.”
Malcolm nodded slowly. He turned to look back out the peephole, wondering if he could just hide behind the locked door and take the most obvious approach forward. He blinked, surprised to see that there was only one man on the other side of it now.
Something wet slid over Malcolm’s socked foot. He jumped back. The sensation almost reminded him of one of Rose’s shadow tendrils, but she was already through the door and in his bedroom.
He stared down, watching in disbelief as a pool of gelatinous, red goop entered his apartment through the doorway. Malcolm acted, rather than thinking. He pulled the door open, hopped back a few feet, and then let loose with the full brunt of his wind manipulation.
The goop seemed to try to hold where it was for a moment before pulling loose from the floor and splattering across the chest and face of the remaining agent. Malcolm waited until the last few globs were in the hallway before reaching for the door and slamming it closed.
Or at least, that was what he had intended to do. A tree branch was blocking the way, holding it open in the same manner someone might use their foot.
“Don’t,” said one of the champions. “He’ll just slip under your doorway again. And again. We’re just here to talk, Malcolm.”
Damn it. I need to think of something else, and fast.
Malcolm reluctantly shrugged his shoulders and opened the door wide enough for the champions to pass through.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was just a little… unnerved by your friend.”
Behind the first champion, the pool of red jello was condensing into the shape of a man, making weird sucking noises as body parts and limbs formed.
“I told him not to,” said the first champion. “Melt’s powers are like something out of a horror movie.”
He was carrying a potted tree under one arm, and wore green khakis and a tan sweater. He reached out his free hand to Malcolm and smiled.