Luminous (8 page)

Come from a family of heroes, do you Al?

Not just heroes. Good-looking heroes. You could make a pin-up calendar out of his family, even including the women. Stupid for her to be attracted to Al. He obviously could get anyone he wanted.

She set the photo down and limped into the hallway more out of worry than from any real pain. If this was the worst it got, she had been really lucky last night.

She followed the smell, thinking of coffee that she could enjoy without being worried someone would see, well,
not see
, her mouth.

But it was Dr. Fred Leslie who greeted her, not Al.

“Well,” the doctor said.

She stiffened and jutted out her chin, an old habit. “Well, what, Doc? Where’s Al?”

“‘Running down some leads,’ he said. ‘Come look over my patient,’ he said. ‘You owe me, Doc,’ he said.” Leslie removed the bacon from the stove and took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. “Huh. Where’d your glow go, angel?”

“The glow’s hiding in my lantern. How about pouring me some coffee?” She kept her voice light. Inwardly, she was seething. Partners, Al had said last night. So what was she doing here while he was out looking for Jack and Jill?

“Black or milk and sugar?” Leslie said.

“Black.”

He handed her a mug. She walked over to the chair, trying not to limp, and sat down. She let herself really enjoy the coffee. Not the best but not swill. It would do.

She ignored Leslie. She really didn’t want to deal with anyone who looked at her as if she were a curiosity. Though, to Leslie’s credit, he’d looked more surprised than shocked. And he’d called her an angel again. That was way better than freak.

Still, she wanted Al.

Leslie set a plate loaded with bacon and eggs on the coffee table. “Al said to make sure you had something to eat but all he had was bacon and eggs.”

“That’s great.” She picked up the plate and started to eat. Leslie sat down across from her. Halfway through her meal, he grinned.

“Damn, that’s interesting. Al’s descriptions didn’t do you justice.”

“Quit staring, Doc.”

“Oh, hell, no. Doctors live for interesting cases.”

She set the plate down with an audible clink. “Yeah? Well, the doctor who did this to me also thought I was an interesting case.”

Leslie winced. “I’m sorry. After so many years in the ER, I look at everyone as a case.” He sighed. “Hell, I even tried to psychoanalyze Al. It didn’t take.”

“He’s that interesting to you?” Now she was curious, despite her anger.

“I wondered why he did what he did. I never could figure it out beyond that he’s married to the job. I’m not sure it’s any more complicated than that. I need to do the ER. I need the rush of helping. So does Al.”

“Oh.” She thought last night that Al had been attracted to her. Maybe she’d just misinterpreted what was just protectiveness. Maybe he’d called her partner just to make her feel better.

“So, tell me about your invisibility. I see once stuff enters your body it becomes invisible too,” Leslie said.

“No, that’s not it. It’s just hidden once it enters my body.” She had no idea what to make of Leslie but, hell, he was a doctor and he was here. Maybe he would help. “My skin is changed, somehow. It hides anything under it. That’s what’s causing the invisibility.”

“Huh.” He shook his head. “Literally a skin-tight invisibility cloak. That shouldn’t be possible, biologically speaking.”

“Yeah, that’s what the one who did this to me said. It wasn’t what she was going for. I’m a real inconvenience for everyone.”

“You’re the inconvenience who saved my life last night. Keep the self-pity to yourself.” Leslie set down his mug. “Moving on. Let’s see the leg.”

She put her foot straight out on the coffee table and pulled up the pants leg. She didn’t get Leslie at all. But Al trusted him and he’d given them a solid lead last night. Plus, her leg needed to be healed right for her to catch Jill. If putting up with Leslie was the price, so be it.

Leslie grabbed a backpack on the side of the couch and pulled out scissors. “So, you’ve been hanging out with Al long?”

“Just since yesterday.”

“And you’ve already been shot. That must be a new record, even for him.” Leslie snipped open the gauze and peeled off the bandage. Her skin wasn’t visible but the blood that had crusted around the gash was. In the daylight, it somehow looked nastier.

The doctor looked up. “Most people prefer not to watch this part.”

“Right.” She closed her eyes. “So how is it?”

“The Lieutenant would make a good medic,” Leslie said. “If you’d been in my ER, I’d have put in a stitch or two but he did pretty well. And I can see why he’d avoid stitching since it’s hard to see the edges. I can only see them now because they’re slightly crusted with blood.”

“He said he took an EMT course,” she offered.

“Huh. Didn’t know that.” Leslie slathered some more cream on the leg and re-bandaged it. His hands were brisk and businesslike compared to Al’s touch last night. “What else did Al say about me?”

“That you were a drunk once but now you get off on the trauma work.”

“That’s hardly a news flash.” He wrapped the bandage in medical tape to finish off the work. “One thing you need to know about Al. He doesn’t sugarcoat the truth. And when he says he’s going to do something, he does. Half of the police department is on the take. When they need a real cop, though, they come to him.”

“Detective Fixit,” she said.

“Exactly.” Leslie straightened, picked up his backpack and tossed her a pill bottle he’d pulled from it. She caught it easily.

Leslie blinked. “Damn, that’s odd, Noir, seeing something stop midair without seeing what caught it.”

“Yeah, I’m all with the magic tricks.”

Leslie sighed. “Change the bandage every day, use Al’s antibiotic cream and take those twice a day.”

“I don’t want to take any pills.”

“They’re antibiotics, not pain pills.” He flung the backpack over his shoulder. “Okay, then.” He stared at her for a moment. “Look, I’m just a trauma doctor. I pull people back from death. I’m not a specialist in DNA or biology or whatever might help you. But I can ask around and find out who is the best in the field. I’ll set you up with some help.”

Noir realized that Leslie was trying to be kind. It didn’t suit him. “And be a research subject again? No thanks.”

“You want to live like this forever?”

“I’d rather stay like this than be locked up in a lab. You can’t guarantee that I won’t become just some curiosity to study.”

“And you can’t guarantee that another doctor would treat you like that,” Leslie snapped.

So much for kind Dr. Leslie. “Would you take that chance if you were me?”

“Depends on how bad I wanted to be normal. In the meantime, I’ll offer a suggestion. Obviously, it’s hard for you to get a job with your condition. But some jobs don’t ask many questions. Some openings are so hard to fill that you could be hired on the spot. Like, just for example, hospital security guard.”

She frowned. “I don’t think anyone who couldn’t see my face would hire me.”

“You could solve that with some well-applied makeup. I know it does wonders for burn patients. And you’re not trying to cover up scars, you’re just trying to outline your skin. Also, spray-on tans. Hell, I’m sure there’s flesh-colored body paint you could use. At least, I assume. Not my area. Anyway, the point is that there are solutions.” He paused. “If that’s what you want.”

“I never thought that far ahead.” She hadn’t thought beyond escaping and shutting down Jill. It was what kept her moving. Last night, Al had offered to find out who she really was. Now Leslie was offering a glimpse at a future.

I’m not ready for that.
She had to keep moving, keep going forward. Stopping to look around was, well, terrifying.

“Noir, or whatever your name is, you have talent. I could see that from your sketch. What you are won’t keep you from being an artist. They’re allowed to be eccentric, you know. Someone with that costume of yours would be accepted. Hell, it’d probably be an asset. It’d cultivate an air of mystery and draw attention to your work. You don’t have to run around with Al and get shot.”

“What I want right now is to help Al catch the bad guys.”

Leslie snorted. “You and Al. Two of a kind.” He walked over, grabbed a Pepsi can from the fridge and headed out. “Good luck, both of you. And try to avoid coming into my ER as a patient.”

Chapter Six

Al ran into Leslie as he was coming up the stairs to his apartment building and Leslie was heading out.

“She okay?”

“Sure,” Leslie said. “You missed your calling, Lieutenant. That was a nice field dressing.”

Al shrugged. “What’s her mood like?”

“Pissed off, I’d say. She didn’t like you running off on her.”

Al nodded. “Sounds about right. Thanks, Doc.”

“Al. I’m interfering. Sue me. But she needs some kind of help for that condition. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Obviously. It’s not like there are supposed to be invisible people.”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all. You said she told you something was done to her skin, right? Some sort of genetic research? That can’t be right. If that was the case, why can’t we see her hair? The skin is covered in very fine body hair. If this was completely related to skin changes, that wouldn’t explain why we can’t see that or the hair on her head.”

“Except that we can’t.” Al gripped the handrail tight. “What’s your point?”

“She trusts you. Reason with her. She needs help from professionals.”

“After we get the people who did this to her.”

Leslie laughed. “Damn, you two
are
alike.”

The doctor walked away, shaking his head. Al grimaced. Leslie laughed at the oddest things. What was wrong with finding murderers?

Still, Al took the stairs two at a time, eager to check in with Noir. She’d love these latest developments. Screw computer records. A trip to city hall and time spent looking at the foreclosure records had supplied a number of possible locations for the lab. He’d spent the day riding around, narrowing down the possibilities for the site. He’d also talked to some of his street contacts. They’d told him that one of the supposedly “abandoned” warehouses had seen a lot of activity lately. It could be drug makers, but his contacts had been freaked out by glimpses they’d seen of a “monster”.

Nope, not drugs.

He opened the door to his place. “Noir?”

“You son of a bitch,” she said.

“So they tell me.” He tossed his keys on the coffee table. “What bug is up your invisible butt?”

“You said we were partners last night.” She walked toward him, dressed in the shirt and sweatpants he’d left for her, a headless figure wearing his clothes. Huh. He was getting used to the headless part.

But Leslie was right. Why wasn’t her hair visible? He’d felt how soft her hair had been last night when she’d laid her head against his shoulder. He’d love to see
something
of her.

He wanted to see her face. How could he lust after someone he couldn’t see? But he did, dammit. He’d been thinking about her all day. Especially the part where she’d kissed his hand and how her skin had felt against his fingertips when he’d caressed her chin. He wondered if body paint would work. Painting her would be fun.

Focus, he told himself.

“We are partners,” he said.

“So you just up and leave without me? You leave me with a doctor who’s watching over me as of I were a child?”

“You were shot, remember? Besides, I couldn’t take you with me to the precinct.” He sat down on the couch and put his feet up on the table.

“No one has to know I’m with you. Invisible, remember?”

“That part is hard to forget.”

She loomed above him. Hmm…she was about five-six, five-seven. He’d had to guess last night and pegged her as taller. It must have been the cape. And the hat.

“You have a white bandage on your leg. Which is not invisible.”

“I could’ve taken it off.”

“Then people would see the blood, like I did last night. Chill, Noir.” He took his feet off the table. “You wouldn’t have been ready to help me hunt down leads tonight if you didn’t rest.”

“Leads?”

He couldn’t see, but he could hear the surprise in her voice. He liked surprising her. That meant she was the one off-balance, not him.

“Yes, leads. Enough to locate the hostage, maybe.” He pointed to the chair, which was rapidly becoming
her
chair. “Sit down. I’ll tell you about it.”

“Fine.”

She flopped into the chair. Interesting. Since he couldn’t see her, he was starting to fill in the little details around her that allowed him to “see” her better. The skintight leather, along with carrying her last night, had given him the shape of her body. But the way the shirt hung on her also helped.

He had to get some body paint. No, he had to focus and think of the job and not Noir covered in body paint.