Tapestry. I was a fool to get so close to her. But I guess, from her point of view, she’ll still have “me”.
“You expect me to just walk away?” asked Malcolm. “To leave Vanderbrook, and pretend like the people here aren’t in danger?”
“If you have to,” said Second Wind. “How did you… How did WE think this was going to end? This has just been a long series of careless decisions. From when we took in Rose, to chasing after Rain Dancer. And then making… me.”
He smiled. Malcolm felt another sudden stab of guilt and resignation. He had made dumb decisions. He thought of Tapestry, and how things had been before Second Wind. She would have discovered Rose and the betrayal Malcolm juggled behind her back.
And even with Rose, he’d made mistakes. Perhaps getting involved with her initially was just the biggest one of them all. She had no memories, and hid in Malcolm’s apartment out of fear and vulnerability. And he’d let her offer herself to him, never stopping to consider that she might have loved ones, a history, a meaning in life beyond being a spryte.
And now I’m keeping secrets from her, too. Secrets that I don’t own.
He’d made a mess of things. And now Second Wind was asking him to step back from it and let someone else take responsibility for cleaning it up.
“I can’t,” said Malcolm. “No. I won’t. I’m going after Multi, as the Gifted Vigilante, at the same time you and Tapestry do.”
“I’m not going to warn you again,” said Second Wind. “Stay out of my life.”
He turned and walked away, lifting off into the sky as soon as he could. Malcolm let out a long sigh and fought the urge to punch something. It was a losing battle. His knuckles ached afterward, and the cement pillar he’d chosen was no worse for wear.
CHAPTER 26
Malcom couldn’t just go back to his hole in the ground hideout that night. It felt cold and empty, and reinforced how alone he was. He wanted to call Rose, but guilt over Brenden’s death and the secrets he held weighed too heavily on him.
Instead, he went to Terri’s Tavern for a beer. The place was nearly empty, and Scribe had few words for him as he sat down and accepted a beer. Malcolm drank it slowly. His knuckles ached, and he found himself wishing he’d taken Tapestry’s power instead of holding onto…
“Hi.” Chaste Widow flashed a smile at him as she took the bar stool to his left. Malcolm sighed and took a long sip of his beer, realizing that he actually preferred his loneliness to having to participate in a real conversation.
She didn’t say much at first. She ordered a drink and seemed to pay it all of her attention, leaving Malcolm to stew in his own thoughts for as long as he wanted. It was a tactic that he simultaneously hated and appreciated.
“Do you ever feel guilty?” he asked.
Chaste Widow gave the question consideration.
“In general?” She shrugged. “No.”
Malcolm finished his beer. Scribe seemed to sense that he’d want it refilled before he’d even started to ask.
“You know what I mean,” said Malcolm. “You make choices. Often ones with lasting consequences. Choices that get you labeled as one of the bad guys. Uh, bad girls, I mean.”
He winced. She was very attractive, and between that, the setting, and her close proximity to him made it hard for him to focus.
“A bad girl,” said Chaste Widow. “Yes. That’s exactly what I am.”
There was a hint of dry sarcasm in her voice. Malcolm watched her, drinking his new beer faster than intended.
“You seemed like you had a reason,” said Malcolm. “The men that you… kiss. You don’t pick them at random.”
Chaste Widow slowly shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I don’t. So, to answer your question a second time, the reason I don’t feel guilty, even though I do bad things, is because there are people out there who do worse things.”
“That reasoning seems a little flimsy,” said Malcolm.
Chaste Widow smiled and leaned in closer to him.
“Maybe to you,” she whispered. Her face was way too close his. “But I’ve seen the expressions on their faces. The men I killed… they were truly evil. Rapists, sadists, kidnappers. And you know what their faces told me when I killed them?”
Her hand slid up his thigh. She came in even closer. Her lips brushed against Malcolm’s, not a kiss, but incidental contact.
“They looked at me like I was the evil one.” Chaste Widow gave Malcolm’s inner thigh a squeeze and was suddenly back over on her stool. “So that is how I keep the faith, and banish the guilt. Bit of a double negative, I guess you could say.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow at her.
“That simple, huh?”
She nodded.
Four drinks and two hours later, Malcolm walked alongside a drunk and flirtatious Chaste Widow. He still didn’t want to head back to his hideout, even though he knew he’d need to wake up early the next morning.
“So,” said Chaste Widow. “Do you see yourself as evil?”
Malcolm shrugged.
“I’m not as good at answering those sorts of questions as you are,” he said.
“You could let me be the judge,” she said. “Of just how bad you really are.”
She stepped in closer to him, kissing his neck, and then his lips. Malcolm turned his head away from hers, feeling suddenly tired. Not of her, but of bad decisions.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He just shook his head. Chaste Widow was silent for a little while, the two of them still walking with their arms linked.
“I haven’t kissed anyone since…” she trailed. “Well, it’s been a while. At least since I’ve kissed anyone without them dying afterward.”
She reached her free hand over and traced Malcolm’s lips with it.
“Let me kiss you,” she said. “And I’ll kiss you back. Wherever you want.”
Malcolm’s hormones surged, fueled by alcohol and emotional fatigue. He took a deep breath and forced himself to shake his head.
“Not tonight,” he said.
“What?” Chaste Widow looked shocked, as though she’d never been rejected before. “But... you know I’m not just teasing you, right?”
She moved in closer to him and made to slide her hand down his pants. Malcolm caught it and gave it a reproachful, but soft squeeze.
“Not tonight,” he repeated again.
Chaste Widow was pouting, but she gave him an accepting nod, her face showing her respect for him.
“Good,” said Malcolm. “Well… It’s late.”
“It’s very late.” Chaste Widow cleared her throat. “And I should be going. Thanks for being such a tease tonight, you big meanie.”
“And thanks for the company,” said Malcolm.
CHAPTER 27
Malcolm’s sleep was uneasy that night. It was dreamless, but he woke often, each time feeling anxious. He was up far earlier than he needed to be and didn’t waste any time getting dressed. He ate a quick breakfast, donned his black clothing and mask, and left his underground lair.
He wasn’t about to let Tapestry and Second Wind face Multi on their own. It was just too dangerous. Despite everything Second Wind had said and the threats he’d made, Malcolm’s fear of what would happen if he let the two of them go in alone was even greater.
It would be suicide. Multi is too smart, and too powerful.
Dawn hadn’t yet broken over Vanderbrook’s skyline when he stole away from the warehouse. He made his way to the park across the street from Second Wind’s apartment just as rays of light began to peek above the horizon. He found a bench hidden from direct view line of Second Wind’s windows and sat down, concentrating on listening using the wind.