“She really shouldn’t be doing things like that,” said Tapestry. “I know you think I’m… old fashioned. But it’s true.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“She’s just a teenager, Tapestry,” he said, feeling a bit weird, given that technically, he was still one himself.
“And the fact that the boy was more than a year younger than her?” asked Tapestry. “She should at least be with someone closer to her own age.”
Tapestry glanced over at him, clearly expecting an answer. Malcolm tried not to scowl, wishing she’d just let it drop.
“I don’t think age gaps are a very big deal,” said Malcolm. “If they love each other, it shouldn’t matter.”
Several seconds passed in silence. Malcolm felt his confidence in his words fading as he considered what he’d said.
“Does it matter to you?” asked Tapestry. “That… I’m old? Is that why it was hard for you to… say it back?”
“Of course it doesn’t matter to me!” said Malcolm. “It’s not about that. I… can’t explain it. I just haven’t felt like myself recently.”
I feel like I’m playing a video game from someone else’s save file.
Tapestry focused on driving, and was quiet for long enough that Malcolm thought the conversation was over. Finally, she cleared her throat.
“I’m here,” she said. “If there’s anything on your mind that you need to air out. I’m here for you, Malcolm.”
She reached her hand over and squeezed his knee. Malcolm suddenly ached to tell her the truth, to put all the deceit and trickery on the table and let her see him, and Second Wind, and what they’d done.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t. There was just no way.
CHAPTER 22
“Can you refresh my memory on… our target?” asked Malcolm. He spoke the words carefully, trying to sound like he mostly knew about what he was talking about.
“It’s the gifted woman I was telling you about the other day, the one that hasn’t aligned herself with the Champion Authority.” said Tapestry. “Reyna Torres. Codename Chaste Widow. Wax had been keeping track of her before he left town, and sent me the info to look into.”
Malcolm nodded slowly.
“Right,” he said. “And our plan is…?”
Tapestry looked at him as though he were stupid.
“We’ve been over this already, Wind Runner,” she said. “We don’t know exactly what Chaste Widow’s power is, but it lets her kill easily and without leaving a trace. Several recent murders have her handiwork all over them.”
“Question: Why the name?”
Tapestry gave him a sour smile as she parked the car on the street of a suburban neighborhood.
“Her husband was killed in front of her,” said Tapestry. “And since then, every man that’s gotten close to her has experienced an untimely death immediately after.”
Malcolm scratched his head.
“Maybe you should handle this one on your own?” he offered.
“I can’t afford to,” said Tapestry. “She has a dangerous, uncontrolled power, Malcolm. Even though she hasn’t turned into a monster yet, we need to take care of her before she does anymore killing.”
“Take care of her?” asked Malcolm. “What exactly do you mean by that, Tapestry?”
Tapestry sighed.
“I don’t like this any more than you do,” she said, slowly. “But we can’t let Vanderbrook fall deeper into chaos. If we can capture her, good. But it’s challenging to hold her for long enough for more champions to arrive and contain her properly, given the current worldwide situation. So…”
“So… what?”
She got out of the car without answering him. Malcolm followed after her, still unconvinced by her reasoning, but unwilling to let her go into a dangerous situation on her own.
Maybe she’s right. If this woman has done as much killing as she says, we can’t just let her keep at it.
Tapestry approached the target house, pulling her pistol out of its holster and moving cautiously, scanning her eyes over the windows and shrubs beside the porch. Malcolm realized that he hadn’t bothered to ask her for a description of the target. It was probably something she’d already told Second Wind.
Tapestry paused outside the door of the house. She reached out and tried the handle. It was unlocked, and the door swung open without resistance. Malcolm followed her inside.
The two of them entered a spacious living room in time to see a tan skinned woman walk out of a bathroom, wearing only a towel. It took Malcolm a second to place where he’d seen her before. She’d been the out of place woman in Terri’s Tavern, the one he’d flirted with a couple of nights in row.
“Freeze!” Tapestry pointed her pistol at the woman. “Get down! On the ground!”
Malcolm felt a headache coming on, and it seemed to have a variety of different causes. For one, the woman also seemed to recognize him, given how her eyes lingered on his. She could, if she wanted to, ruin everything just by mentioning their acquaintance. Tapestry would, if she thought about it for long enough, realize that the only way Malcolm could have been in two places at once was for there to have been two of him alive at once.
The woman looked like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. She swallowed and lifted her hands up. Malcolm crossed his arms, wondering if this was the reaction Tapestry had expected, coming into the situation. Could she justify attacking a woman who offered no resistance in return, regardless of how dangerous her power was?
“What…?” The woman was slowly shaking her head. “Why? Who are you people?”
“The jig is up,” said Tapestry. “We know what you’ve been doing, Reyna. If you surrender, this will all go more smoothly.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the woman. “I’m nobody. I haven’t done anything to anyone.”
“You sound like you already know why we’re here,” said Tapestry. “Is there something you want to come clean about?”
The woman’s eyes flicked over to Malcolm, and there was a curious gleam in them, as though she half expected him to come to her defense. He kept his mouth shut, still too uncertain to come to any definite conclusions.
“Please…” said the woman. “I’m not resisting. I will do whatever you want me to. Just let me change into some clothes first.”
Tapestry gave a slow nod, clearly still suspicious. Malcolm followed them to the edge of a bedroom, knowing better than to try to enter, even though it meant leaving Tapestry by herself.
He waited for about thirty seconds on the other side of the closed door before hearing sounds of a struggle. Malcolm ran into the room in time to see something totally unexpected.
Reyna, Chaste Widow, was kissing Tapestry. It was a full on, passionate kiss, and Tapestry looked as though she was being physically held in place by it. Malcolm could only stare, feeling a strange eroticism emanating from the two women. Tapestry made a noise, and he snapped back to his senses.
“Hey!” he shouted. He ran over and pushed Chaste Widow back. Tapestry crumpled to the ground, her face pale. “Tapestry!”
She wasn’t breathing. Malcolm checked for a pulse and didn’t find one, at least at first. It kicked back in after a second or two, and Tapestry let out a gasp.
“Go… after her…” Tapestry said, weakly. “Don’t… let her kiss you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Just go!”
Malcolm nodded and rushed back out into the living room. He’d expected Chaste Widow to have disappeared out the front door, but it looked as though she’d gone downstairs into the basement of the house, instead. He stepped through the open door, closing it behind him and locking it to make it harder to escape, if she tried to run again.
The basement was lit only by a single bulb hanging from a loose cord in the rafters. It was sparsely furnished, and all of the corners were shadowed, making it almost impossible for Malcolm to tell where Chaste Widow was.