Dreams of the Golden Age (13 page)

“Just go to Seventy-second and Pine,” Teddy muttered.

On the drive, he showed her the pictures he’d shot. They were good. They’d nail the guy.

They stopped a few blocks from Teddy’s house. That would have been stupid, going straight home. After dropping him off, Anna had the cab take her to a hotel a couple of blocks from West Plaza. She had to hope that was good enough to throw people off. Her calculations were good and she’d collected enough of her allowance to pay the driver. Twenty minutes later, she was at West Plaza taking the secret elevator up.

Finally, she could breathe. She hadn’t realized she’d spent all night feeling like she was strangling until she got home, and the air seemed clearer.

But they’d done it. They’d really, really done it. They’d show everyone. And Dad wasn’t even waiting up for her. Victory.

*   *   *

Nothing in any of the superhero biographies or memoirs talked about how you were supposed to get any sleep, fighting crime at night and pretending that everything was normal during the day. This was even worse than the nights they all went out to practice. She hadn’t burned herself out on adrenaline those nights. She hadn’t spent those nights with her heart beating in her throat.

Getting out of bed and getting ready for school the next morning was a complete nightmare. Especially since the work from the night before wasn’t over.

Her parents were distracted when she asked them if Tom could take her to school early today. She had a test to study for, she lied and didn’t care if her father knew. But he didn’t even blink. Bethy howled over having to leave early, but Mom and Dad didn’t seem bothered by the change in routine. They told Bethy she’d just have to study in the library an extra few minutes before school started. Bethy stared bullets at Anna. If anyone was going to guess what was going on and blow the whole thing open, it would be Bethy.

She wondered if Bethy had learned to read minds and had sense enough not to tell anyone. That gave Anna a chill, which she had no choice but to ignore.

At school, she waited for the town car to pull out of sight. Then she ran. There was an Internet café a few blocks away. A lot of the kids went there for caffeine jolts before school, so Anna wasn’t out of place. This was part of the plan, and she had work to do.

Anna had already taken the photos from Teddy’s camera and stripped identifying information off them, except for the location marker. The pictures were great—he had gotten one with Scarzen standing right behind a pile of money and weapons, and another showing a pile of bagged white powder. They ought to work. She mailed them to the “tips” address on the police department’s website, using an anonymous and she hoped untraceable web address with no identifying info.

They’d done this as anonymously as they could. Now all they could do was wait to see if their tip did any good. Unlike fighting fires, they didn’t get the instant gratification of knowing they’d helped someone or seeing news of their exploits in the paper. It was frustrating. But they had to be patient. They just had to.

*   *   *

It happened faster than they thought it would. The very next morning, Teddy called her cell phone, breathless and nearly incomprehensible. She wasn’t even out of bed yet.

“Anna! Anna, have you seen the news? You have to look at the news, I sent you the link, check your messages, right now!”

“Teddy, it’s five in the morning.” She was still catching up on sleep from the night of their raid. Didn’t Teddy sleep at all?

“Anna. Check your messages.” He was suddenly very serious.

She did. Teddy had sent her an e-mail with a link that led to a news story. “Breaking,” the headline announced. She squinted, read on.

Notorious drug dealer Jonathan Scarzen has been arrested on charges based on evidence delivered in an anonymous tip.

Anna clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. “It worked!” she finally managed to squeal.

“Told you you had to look.”

If he’d been there this minute, she would have hugged him.

*   *   *

What she wanted more than anything was to go to school and rub Teia’s face in their success. But Teia still hadn’t returned to school, third day in a row. This became apparent on the car ride over, and Anna grew more anxious, until Bethy asked, “What’s wrong, you have a test today or something?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Anna muttered.

She’d printed out the article about the arrest and the anonymous tip. She wanted to frame it, but she couldn’t, so she kept it folded up in the pocket of her uniform blazer. She kept hoping to sense Teia’s approach, hoping that her mother had changed her mind about pulling the twins from Elmwood.

But no, Teia was at home. Again. Anna ducked behind the corner of the building and called her.

“Where are you?” she said when Teia answered.

“You know exactly where I am,” she shot back.

“I thought your mom would change her mind and let you come back.”

“Not a chance. She’s definitely taking us out of Elmwood. We’re home until she can get us enrolled somewhere else.”

“She can’t do that, can she? Not in the middle of the school year.”

“I keep trying to talk to her and she just tells me I don’t know what I’m talking about. Elmwood is suddenly evil. I mean, we all know it’s evil, but not like that, you know?”

“I’m really sorry, Teia. Maybe my mom could talk to her.”

“I don’t think anyone should talk to her, the mood she’s in.”

This proves I’m right about publicity being a bad thing …
She didn’t say that because that would just twist the knife, and she wasn’t
that
petty. Only sort of petty.

Anna continued, casual-like, “I don’t suppose you checked out the news this morning? Look up the
Eye,
on the front page.”

A few minutes passed while Teia found the website. Anna waited, smug, sure Teia would be impressed.

“Wow,” she said finally, as amazed as Anna could hope for. “Pretty cool.”

“See?” Anna pointed out. “No publicity, no exposure. Fight crime and stay secret, no problem.”

“That was you and Teddy who sent in that anonymous tip? Really?” Teia said.

“Yeah,” Anna said, trying to keep the grin off her face.

“Prove it.”

The breath went out of her, just for a moment. Anna didn’t cough, sputter, tear up, or shout, even though she could have done all of those things. She had never wanted to punch anyone before, but she did, right then. Not because Teia was being mean, even though she was. But because Teia was right.

Anna hung up on her.

NINE

W
HEN
Anna came home and told Celia that Teia and Lew hadn’t been at school the last couple of days and were likely withdrawing from Elmwood, Celia wasn’t surprised. It was what she’d have done, finding out her children had this shadow life that her best friend had been manipulating behind the scenes.

What she had to do now was figure out a way to change Analise’s mind. To recruit her to the cause.

She called Mark. He’d left her three messages about the latest vigilante news story. She hadn’t gotten back to him because she’d been distracted with Analise, the doctor’s appointment, a burgeoning hypochondria spurred by the doctor’s appointment, and so on. The vacation was sounding better and better. Surely the city wouldn’t crumble to pieces if she left it alone for a week.
After
the development plan was settled.

“Finally. I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day,” he said, flustered, and she worried about his heart.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ve had a lot on my plate.”

“Well, I’ve got another one for you. We arrested Jonathan Scarzen based on an anonymous tip. Good information, the DA thinks she’s got a case, we’re moving forward.”

She had to remind herself who that was, what it meant. Crime lord who’d kept himself very underground. Right. “That’s great, isn’t it?”

“I’m pretty sure the tip came from a team of vigilantes. A
different
team of vigilantes than the kids at the fire.”

Oh. Oh, dear. “How do you know?”

“We got a call from a cabby about some suspicious activity in the area. He picked up a fare, a couple of kids dressed in black. He thought they might have been cat burglars or something. The timing puts them a few blocks away from where we arrested Scarzen. Frankly, I don’t know whether to be amused that they’re taking cabs around town because they can’t fly or pissed off that they’re putting themselves in so much danger.”

Teddy Donaldson was one of them, she’d bet. He hadn’t been part of the first group, Teia and company. “What are their descriptions?” Celia asked.

“I don’t think I’m going to tell you,” Mark said, sounding entirely too gleeful. “You’ve been holding out on me, now I’m holding out on you.”

She did not have time for this. “I’m just trying to keep you from pulling up to these kids’ houses and arresting them on some trumped-up curfew charge or whatever the hell you’re planning.”

“Celia, it’s for their own good. They’re running around Hell’s Alley in the middle of the night, they’re going to get hurt.”

He was right, of course. It was the same reason Analise was so angry about it. He kept on, “I’ve got two brand-new superhero teams hitting the streets now, and neither of them knows what the hell they’re doing. They’re kids playing with dynamite, and it has to stop before one of them gets killed. You know who they are, you have to stop them.”

“You know how I can tell you don’t have teenage kids?” Celia asked.

“I get teen delinquents in here every damn day. Don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said, sharp as a razor.

She’d cut too close. Mark didn’t have kids of his own, not because he didn’t want them but because he’d made a responsible choice not to inflict his genes on the next generation. Guy ought to get a medal, not her sarcasm. Backing up, she tried again. “It’s not a matter of making them stop. You’ve been dealing with supers as long as I have. It’s a compulsion with them.”

Mark understood the compulsion, because along with the powers came a need—a need to protect, to act, to control. It was why he’d become a cop when he could have been anything he wanted. Sometimes the Leyden descendants were born without powers, but still they felt the compulsion.

When she was younger, people used to ask Celia why she didn’t just leave Commerce City if she wanted to get away from her parents’ shadow. She could never adequately explain why she had to stay. It was
her
city, she always said, vaguely, earnestly. She couldn’t leave.

Maybe Arthur was right. She was trying to do too much. Maybe it was time to delegate. Mark was already half on her side. He might be able to help her get Analise on their side, too.

“Mark, I want you to meet someone. Can you pick me up and go on an errand with me?”

She was grateful when he agreed.

*   *   *

Celia was even more grateful that Analise didn’t slam the door in her face when she and Mark showed up. It was early evening, when Analise was home from work at her job managing the downtown rec center.

“I’ll tell you everything, I swear,” Celia said, before hello even, and Analise paused. She and Mark must have looked very serious, standing there together, both of them still in their business suits from their workday.

Analise glanced over her shoulder to the staircase and, by extension, the kids’ bedrooms above them. “All right, but let’s go somewhere the kids can’t eavesdrop.”

A block from the town house, a small park occupied an empty lot between cross streets. After dark, the place was empty, and they gathered on a secluded bench.

Celia started, “Analise, I don’t know if you remember Mark Paulson—”

“We met briefly,” Mark said. “I don’t know if you remember, that stint Celia pulled in the hospital after the bus crash.”

Celia had forgotten that they’d both been in her room when everyone came to visit at once. Not that she’d been thinking too straight then, drugged up and suffering from a concussion.

“How can I forget the cute detective you ditched for the freaky telepath? I remember,” Analise said.

They both blushed at that one, how could they not? Didn’t help that Mark was still awfully cute. But with his serious calm and salt-and-pepper hair he also resembled his father, onetime mayor and Commerce City’s last serious supervillain. Kind of weird.

“Um. Yeah. Mark, Lady Snow and Stormbringer are her kids. I thought she should be in on the conversation about what to do about them.”

Analise’s gaze burned fierce. “You are
not
going to arrest them—”

“No, not at all,” Mark said. “This is entirely off the record. This … this all has to be off the record.” He looked to Celia to explain. She gathered herself and did so, carefully.

“There’s a genetic component to superhuman powers. It has to do with an accident that happened at a laboratory run by Simon Sito, the Destructor, that was funded by my grandfather and where your father worked. They were both there during the accident, along with a dozen workers. The powers originate there, and they’re passed down from parent to child. Not always.” She and Mark exchanged a glance there, because they’d never been entirely sure how much of their makeup came from that accident—they didn’t have powers, but they both had a love for and loyalty to the city that was almost superhuman. Was that part of the Leyden Labs inheritance, or a coincidence? “But sometimes, yes. I found this out by accident, but I’ve been tracking the lineages ever since. With our kids hitting puberty, along with about a dozen others, I wanted to get the potential inheritors into one place, so they’d be safer. So we could watch them.”

Analise glared at Celia. Wondering how much she’d told Mark, no doubt—or if Mark had guessed. It wasn’t hard, once you put all the pieces down on the same surface.

Mark made a peace offering. “Since we’re sharing secrets, I’ll tell you mine: Simon Sito, the Destructor, was my grandfather. I didn’t inherit anything, but I could have. That’s why I’m working with Celia, to try to prevent another Destructor from happening to the city.”