“Because I’m not… accepted in my family line,” I say quietly, looking at the ground instead of at him. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already got a Hall and everything. Nobody will care about the past when I’m running around in tights, saving the day from you,” I say, giving him a little grin.

  “Oh, right, you ARE South, aren’t you?” he says, grinning and holding up a fist. I bump it with a fist of my own. “You and me, we should start practicing first hour!” he says. “We could definitely do some cool stuff.”

  “I’m not that tough—”

  He stares at me. “Stop comparing yourself to the tanks in the school,” he says, poking me in the forehead. “Those are the EXCEPTIONS to the super world, did you know that?”

  “What?”

  “Your brother Kaden, the Liberty boys, even Sandra, they’re that ONE member of each Hall—well, maybe not in Central, but everywhere else in the world. I should know that better than anyone. The majority of supers are D-class. You’d have no problem wiping the floor with most of the B-classes out there. You’ll probably be able to take out several of the A-class ones when you’re older. Look, man, I like your family, but I think you’re… well, you’re being…” he says.

  “Overprotected?” I offer.

  “Yeah,” he says with a sigh, “and underestimated.”

  “I know.”

  He stares at me. “I was expecting you to go off on me,” he admits after a long, awkward silence.

  “They ARE overprotective,” I say. “They have their reasons, but… I can’t yell at them for it, you know? I KNOW why they do it. And… well, I kind of like them caring so much… but I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m a cape. I might not be as tough as most of them are, or as outgoing as Carla is, or… well, you get the picture.”

  “Then…” he says, “will you help me?”

  “What?” I ask. I look around, scanning the empty street we’re walking down. “Help you with what?”

  “Hunting down Badmoon. You might not be related to him, but I bet you can help more than the adults can… at least I hope you can,” he says. “Besides, what better way to show them that you can do anything than by helping catch a super villain?”

  I stare at him. He holds out his arms, in an extravagant way. “I can show you the world, man—”

  “For the love of God, please don’t start singing,” I say. “It’s bad enough when Carla sings My Little Pony songs.” He bursts out laughing.

  “But that’s what makes her cute!” he says, grinning widely.

  “You’re so far gone, it’s scary,” I say. “I mean, sure, she’s cute, but she’s DEFINITELY not the best singer in the school. She’s not QUITE as bad as Morgan, but I still have to fight to keep from howling whenever she starts.”

  “Really?” he asks.

  “Really,” I say. He starts to laugh, leaning against a light pole when it gets too much. “That wasn’t a joke, you know,” I have to point out, making him laugh even harder. I shift, lifting my head and howling at the sky, since it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. He slips off the pole, falling to the ground.

  “That’s—that’s TOO good!” he says, wiping away a tear. He looks at me curiously for a moment, as his laughter calms. “But that’s… what, a coyote?” he asks me. “I thought you were a wolf, for a bit, but that wasn’t a wolf howl. Plus, the nose is too sharp and the ears are too big, right? I mean, I might be wrong--”

  I jerk, shocked. I was planning on becoming a wolf. I look down at my paws, comparing them to my wolf form and inwardly groaning. I shift back to human, quickly. “Forget about that,” I say quickly.

  “Yeah, sure,” he says, shrugging. “But we came out here for a reason, right? Let’s find some animals!”

  I look around, wondering if we’re wasting our time. Not once have I ever controlled or even persuaded an animal. Of course the only animals I’ve been around lately are our new fish and Adanna when she’s in cat form—and I’m pretty sure that neither counts.

  “The park is this way,” he says, heading down a street and into a rather dilapidated looking area. The playground is covered in graffiti and the gravel has more dried up dog poop than rocks in it. I don’t point that fact out to him. I DO avoid stepping on it. “Okay, now… do your thing,” he says, waving a hand around.

  “Do what?”

  “Talk to the animals,” he prompts.

  “Like Doctor Doolittle?” I ask.

  “Yeah, sure, if that works, I just want to see it.”

  I look around, feeling really stupid right now. “Um… hey birds! Here, birds! Do something… interesting?” Nothing happens. I can almost feel them staring at me, laughing. “Tweet tweet?” I offer. “Rocco, I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to work. Just because I can turn into one doesn’t mean I can suddenly tell them what to do.”

  “Maybe you just need to do a stupid finding dance,” he says.

  “What?”

  “The first time I tried using my finding ability, Skye told me that I needed to do the ‘traditional dance of finding.’ It was ridiculous, and it’s never done the same way, twice, but it actually helped. It gets my head into the game. Maybe something like that will help you, too?”

  “Why do you think I can do it?” I ask.

  “Because Badmoon can, and he only has one form… that we know of,” he says. “Come on, I’ll teach you the dance.”

  “You just said that it’s never the same twice,” I point out.

  “Which makes it REALLY easy to learn!” he says. “Now strike a pose—arms out, legs crossed—put that right arm in the air, good,” he says, walking around me and adjusting my arms for me. When he’s got me contorted to his liking, he moves beside me, copying the move. “Okay, now bring back the left arm like this, step, turn—” I almost fall over.

  “I didn’t think this would come with a dance class,” I complain, getting my balance back.

  “Maybe we need music!” Rocco says.

  “You do your stupid dance without music, all the time,” I say.

  “But I have rhythm,” he points out. “You SHOULD have some. We just need to… bring it out!” He taps on his com-bracelet and a fast paced song about love starts blaring. “Now let’s start over.”

  “You’re scaring away all the animals,” I say as I gamely take on his weird pose again. “And I think you’re wrong about the rhythm thing, too.”

  “But you’re—”

  “I’m what?” I ask him, pausing.

  “You’re Native American, right?” he says. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious—well, other than the hair—and they’ve got music in their BLOOD or something--”

  “So just because I’m HALF Native American, I should have rhythm?” I ask. “I’m… not sure if that’s stereotyping or a compliment,” I admit a second later. “Just because I like you, I guess I’ll take it as a compliment, Mister ‘Lover of Dubstep.’”

  “I’m never going to live that name down, am I?”

  “When Max is the one that named you?” I ask with a grin. “You’ll be over a hundred and STILL carrying it.”

  “Most of the music I played wasn’t even dubstep!” he complains, only to laugh. “But anyway, maybe the dance thing isn’t working for you…”

  “You think?” I say, dryly. I head for the creaky looking swings and sit down, staring into the distance before tugging my bag off my back and digging in. “Well, since that doesn’t work…” I pull out my Frisbee, looking at him a bit shyly. “Can we play?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he says. I throw him the Frisbee and jump to my feet, shifting into my favorite dog form. “I was sort of wondering about the teeth marks,” he says, looking at the Frisbee again before throwing it. I jump in the air, catching it and racing away. “HEY! Aren’t you supposed to bring that back?” he demands, chasing after me. It feels amazing, racing through the grass, my paws pounding on the ground. I grunt as he tackles me, grabbing the Frisbee from me with a laugh. I squirm out of his grasp and turn, dancing as I bark, my tail wagging wildly. He sends the Frisbee flying again and I give chase. This time the Frisbee is flying across the sky, straight for the woods.

  I change forms, turning into a cheetah. Before I know it, I’m to the woods. I almost run into a tree, barely managing to skid to a halt. The Frisbee is nowhere in sight, and this form isn’t the one I would choose for dense, stick-like trees, so I shift back to human. I can hear the birds flying away. There’s an eerie feeling in the air, I realize as I look around. Now that the birds are gone, it’s like the trees are looking at me. I know they’re not. I’m not Sunny. I don’t have any connection with plants. I start walking, looking for the missing Frisbee and trying to ignore the strange sensation.

  Each step on crackling leaves seems to echo. I try to step as lightly as I can, muffling the noise. I stop, though, as I see a deer peeking out at me. I expect her to run, but still I find myself holding out a hand to her. Why? I don’t know. She’s beautiful. I see her take a step—but it isn’t to run away. She walks so silently that I’m jealous, stopping in front of me and lowering her head.

  I reach up, tentatively touching, and then petting her when she doesn’t bolt.

  “Did you get the Frisbee?” Rocco calls from the edge of the woods. The deer turns, racing away.

  “No,” I say, almost too quietly. My hand falls to my side as I sigh. “I haven’t found it yet,” I say, turning as he steps into sight. “What does Badmoon do with the animals he controls, Rocco?” I ask, the image of the deer embedded in my mind.

  “He lets them out of zoos,” he says. “And from what the Halls have said, he sometimes turns pets on their owners.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. All I know is that there was a gorilla that climbed a building and threw stuff at the capes until they managed to get him down.”

  I smile a little, because I’ve got several ideas on what a gorilla could throw, but the smile fades quickly. “And it’s not just wolves?”

  “No, it’s all animals,” he says, looking at me curiously. “So you’re finally interested?”

  “Why would that send him to the Cape Cells?” I ask curiously.

  “Because zoo animals aren’t supposed to be wandering the streets of Missouri? I bet they caused a lot of damage,” he says. “Also, packs of animals that aren’t afraid of humans wandering the streets, hating humans… it’s a form of terrorism. I mean, dogs can be…”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I know.” Dogs can be far more brutal than wolves, given the right circumstances. “What will you do when you find Badmoon?” I ask.

  “I’ve got a power blocker gun if I need it, but more likely I would leave it to the local Hall to take care of him. I just need to get him to stay still long enough for either to actually happen. But lately…” he goes silent, looking away from me, “he’s disappeared off of the map, entirely.”

  “What?”

  “There are two explanations that I could come up with,” Rocco says, looking grim. “One is that somehow over the past month he’s managed to get himself killed.”

  “That seems sort of unlikely…” I admit.

  “Yeah, but the second one is a lot worse,” he says.

  “What is it?”

  “He’s found a cape strong enough to mask his presence, and talked them into letting him stay. There are only a handful of capes that strong in the world. Most of them live here, up at the North Pole, or are leaders of a Hall.”

  “But?” I offer.

  “But there are a few… others,” he says, looking me in the eye. “They’re retired, for the most part, ancient S-class capes that have grown stronger with age. You can count them on one hand and still have a few fingers to spare. I went looking for one, once.”

  “What were they like?” I ask curiously.

  “She knew I was there. She reached into my shadow and pulled me out… and then offered me cake,” he says, grinning. I almost fall over.

  “I was expecting something terrifying from the build-up!” I complain. “Not cake!”

  “Well, it gets lonely being a cape that strong,” he says. “I mean, that’s why there’s an entire little retirement community up in the Arctic Circle. We aren’t like norms. But… I’m pretty sure not all of those RED-C guys are going to be that nice.”

  “RED-C?” I repeat.

  “Retired, Extremely Dangerous Capes,” he says. “Like the movies, but with powers.”

  “So… you were going to tell me this part, when?” I ask.

  “After you agreed?” he offers. “See, if you can control animals, you can have them sneak in close enough to see if Badmoon is with the RED-C, and then we could go from there!”

  “But I can’t control them,” I say.

  “Yeah… that is sort of a problem, isn’t it?”

  “Why don’t you ask Nico for a drone, or something?”

  “It’s possible to hear the drone,” he says, “even if you can’t see it. Think of it like trying to sneak in on Superior or Tatiana. The more inconspicuous we are the better.”

  I frown, seeing his point. “Well, I might not be able to control them as a group… but… I can turn into a mouse, myself.”

  “That’s still sort of risky, though…”

  “Why don’t we try it?” I say. “We’ll use that one lady that offered you cake. If she catches me, she probably won’t kill me, right? Maybe SHE’S the one that’s harboring Badmoon, and we can get this over with really quickly.”

  He hesitates for all of a second before tapping on his com-bracelet. “Nico?”

  “I don’t like it,” our principal says, not even giving him time to explain. “But if you’re intent on bugging the… what did you call them, RED-C? Well, you need back-up. Which one is she?”

  “It’s Cheval,” Rocco says.

  “Well, no wonder she caught you,” Nico says dryly. “You just had to check out the travel type, didn’t you?”

  “Who’s Cheval?” I ask.

  “She’s from before your time,” Nico tells me. “She’s an ex villain that specialized in travel through mirrors. She had a ton of other tricks she could use them for, as well. One of her best tricks was pulling a hero into her mirror-land, where the poor schmuck had to fight his own reflection come to life. It was always almost as strong as they were. She was a big deal back in the sixties—both powerful and sexy as hell.”

  “She’s still a total babe,” Rocco says with a grin.

  “Where is she living, now? She’d make an excellent teacher,” Nico says.

  “She’s in South Branch territory,” Rocco says. “But since we’re both South Branch guys, we shouldn’t have any trouble popping in, right?”

  “Call up Century and have him assign you backup, anyway,” Nico orders. “If she’s gotten as strong as you say, she might not even need the mirror-land to sic your evil reflections on you.”

  “That’s such a cheesy power,” I say, trying not to grin from ear to ear.

  “It was a huge hit back in the sixties,” Nico says, although he sounds amused, as well. “And hey, I wouldn’t want to fight myself, either.”

  “Why was it ‘almost’ as strong as they were?” Rocco asks curiously. “Some of them she could overpower with no trouble, right?”

  “She’s also the perfect example of a textbook villain,” Nico explains. “I figured she was dead, though. She’s not that young, anymore.”

  “Were you even alive in the sixties?” I ask, curiously.

  “Nope, but it doesn’t stop me from knowing our history,” he says. “Especially since Emily found out about Duplicitous before I did.”

  “Okay, then I’ll call Century and we’ll be heading out. Do you need to get anything before we go, Lance?” he asks me.

  “Um… if I carry my clothes with me, they’ll all smell like you, right?” I say.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “Then no, I’ll just burn these when it’s over, thank you.”

  “Is your nose sensitive in this form, too?” he asks.

  “It doesn’t need to be with the way you smell.”

  Rocco shakes his head, shrugging. “Point,” he says before tapping his com-bracelet. “Century?”

  “Speaking,” Century says. I feel awkward, even though I’ve called Century, myself. I just always feel that Hall leaders shouldn’t be bothered. They’re really busy, right? But this is a business call.

  “Lance and I want to see if he can sneak into a RED-C place without getting noticed,” Rocco says a bit too bluntly. “Nico says we can’t do it without backup, so can you send someone not on duty to…” he taps on his bracelet a few times before rattling off an address.

  “A who?” Century asks.

  “A RED-C,” Rocco says cheerfully. “I’ve already met her, but when the boss says to do something, you do it.”

  “Son, I don’t know any cape living in that area,” Century says. “Are you sure you’ve got the right address?”

  “Her name is Cheval,” Rocco says.

  “Cheval lives in my territory?” he asks. “Whoo-wee, I did NOT expect that. I’ll meet you at the coordinates, son. And am I right in thinking that Lance is with you?”

  “We don’t exactly need YOU, so to say—”

  “Lance, are you there, son?” he asks, playing up his good-ole-boy accent.

  “Yes, sir,” I say.

  “And why haven’t you called, lately?” he demands.

  I stare at the com-bracelet in shock. “Um, sorry, sir,” I say, not knowing what else to tell him.

  “I’ll see you both in a few minutes,” he says, hanging up on us. I look at Rocco, wondering what to say to that.

  “He likes keeping tabs on us,” he says, looking around. “This way,” he says, heading out of the woods. I turn, looking for the deer for a moment, just in case she’s hiding. When nothing moves, I follow after him, grabbing the hand he holds out and being pulled through the shadow under the slide.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It stinks. It stinks. I tried to breathe through my mouth for a little bit, but all that managed to do was make me TASTE the stench. I feel like throwing up by the time we step out of the shadows, but to mention it to Rocco would be rude. But it doesn’t help that it’s bringing back a lot of really bad memories, too.

 

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