The apple doesn’t fall far from the… previous apple, that it was cloned from.
“No!” shouted Tapestry. “We aren’t letting him go! He either surrenders or he dies!”
She fired again, this time aiming at the window that Malcolm was about to dive out of. He was tempted to use his wind manipulation to try to knock her gun loose, but there were a number of issues with that idea.
For one, it would go against the supposed powers of his new persona. If Tapestry knew that he could use wind manipulation and heat manipulation, it wasn’t that much of a leap of logic for her to connect the rest of the dots.
And more importantly, Malcolm wasn’t sure that he could get the gun out of her hand. She would shoot to kill next time. He was sure of it. Tapestry had no real qualms about doing what had to be done. Again, he felt a sharp, painful sense of sadness over having to face off against her.
Malcolm looked to Second Wind and saw his copy give a nearly imperceptible shrug. There was something darkly humorous about the situation, but not in the kind of way that would elicit a smile, especially not with the barrel of a gun pointed at him.
“Vanderbrook is hanging on by a thread,” said Malcolm. “Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, you know that I’m part of the solution. Not the problem.”
Tapestry shook her head. Her finger tensed over the gun’s trigger.
“Then prove it,” she said. “Take off your mask. If you want me to trust you, that’s where we can start.”
Malcolm let out a sad, tired sigh. He started to take another step toward the window. Tapestry rushed forward, throwing a punch at his face. He grabbed her wrist and tried to twist out of the path of the gun. Tapestry pushed herself onto him, trying to use her grappling skills to pull him to the ground.
Her body felt nice against his, despite the circumstances. Malcolm tried to shake off the heavy emotions in his chest as he fought. He really did care about her, and it felt like betrayal of a sort to keep her in the dark when it came to what was really going on.
“Looks like I arrived just in time,” said a new voice.
From the edges of the auto shop, long strands of shadow formed and extended outward to restrain Tapestry. If Malcolm hadn’t been familiar with Rose and her shadow manipulation, he would have thought it something out of a horror movie, arms of darkness materializing to seize their prey.
Rose walked through the open garage door, moving with slow, catlike steps. She wore black leggings and a black halter top, a tight outfit that showed off her fit body and luscious curves. A small smile adorned her lips, and the hue of her pale purple skin was visible in the light of the full moon.
“You!” Tapestry growled and tried to pull her hand and the gun in it free from Rose’s tendrils.
“Me,” said Rose. “You’re harassing a friend of mine. I’d appreciate it if you let him go.”
A tense moment passed without anyone saying anything. Malcolm had no idea what was going to happen next. Second Wind had a pensive look on his face, and looking at him made Malcolm feel odd and disassociated. Tapestry was glaring at Rose, but she shot an expectant glance at Second Wind after a second or two.
“Tapestry…” said Second Wind. “This isn’t a fight that we can win.”
“And just why is that?” snapped Tapestry. “This is what we do, Wind Runner! He might not be a monster, but she is! And we have a chance to take them both!”
“You overestimate yourself,” said Rose.
She sounded almost bored, and Malcolm understood exactly why. Her powers were a step up from both Tapestry and Second Wind’s. Only since absorbing Danny’s heat manipulation had Malcolm approached anywhere near the level her powers were at, when it came to raw strength. If it did come to a fight, he and Rose would win easily.
“This isn’t over!” shouted Tapestry. “Wind Runner! Attack them!”
Second Wind looked deeply uncomfortable with the situation. He scratched his head and waved a hand through the air.
“Tapestry, let’s call it a night,” he said.
Rose nodded to Malcolm, and the two of them slowly backed out of the auto garage, watching Tapestry carefully. Second Wind gave them both a knowing look, one that told Malcolm that he’d only be able to hold Tapestry back for a minute, at most, before she’d charge after them.
“I’ll find out who you are!” shouted Tapestry. “Your stupid mask won’t protect you forever!”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” said Malcolm.
Tapestry responded with several angry gunshots in his general direction.
CHAPTER 4
Malcolm ducked his head low as he ran alongside Rose through the auto garage’s lot. His shoulder flared with pain, as though it had been holding off on feeling like a proper injury until he was out of danger.
“How’d you find me?” he asked.
Rose flashed a smile at him.
“The news,” she said. “The coverage… isn’t very flattering. One of the anchors was expressing his suspicions about you being involved with the criminals.”
“Well, that’s just great,” sighed Malcolm.
He tried to get his mind off the encounter as he ran alongside Rose, but found it almost impossible. It was ridiculous, but it stung his pride to have Tapestry, someone he cared deeply about, as an enemy.
I’m her enemy. She isn’t mine.
She had no way of knowing who he was, behind the disguise. She didn’t know what his intentions were, or the full extent of what he’d done for the city. But Malcolm’s heart didn’t take any of that into account, only caring about the anger and determination he’d seen on her face, and in the way she’d pointed the gun at him.
“Are you okay?” asked Rose. “I know this must be tough for you.”
They’d slowed their pace, though Malcolm knew that they needed to keep moving.
“I’m fine,” he said. “It’s just… hard. I wish there was a way for me to sort things out with Tapestry.”
“You could always tell her that you made a copy of yourself,” said Rose. “She’d be mad, I’m sure, but it might be better than her thinking that you’re a dangerous vigilante.”
“She would never be okay with it,” said Malcolm. “No. That’s not an option.”
“You’ve always kept secrets from Tapestry,” observed Rose. “Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, between you and her?”
She glanced over at Malcolm, both of them still walking at a fast pace through side alleys and behind buildings. The look on his face must have been worse than he’d thought, because Rose’s expression immediately turned remorseful.
“I’m sorry,” said Rose. “I just meant… you have to accept everything you gave up for the sake of creating a new identity.”
“I guess that’s true.”
Rose beckoned to him as they passed by another small alley. She slipped into it, appearing a moment later wheeling a Japanese motorcycle, a black helmet pulled securely into place over her head. Malcolm grinned.
She’d somehow acquired it the previous week, and was evasive as to exactly how it had come into her possession. Malcolm had only cared if it was stolen, and after she assured him that it wasn’t, all he’d wanted was to take it for spin.
“Let me be up front, this time,” he said.
“Absolutely not,” said Rose. “You’re holding on to me.”
She sounded deeply amused by that, and it was a little infectious. Malcolm smiled into her tinted helmet even as he continued to push.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll use the wind to balance it if it starts to fall.”
Rose climbed onto the motorcycle. It was hard for Malcolm to think of a more exotic or alluring sight. She straddled it in a way that emphasized her long legs, perfect thighs, and of course, her butt. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was smiling at him.