I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not your sweetheart. I'm not your -anything-. And this conversation is over. Feel free to join one of the board games in progress or go fuck yourself. Whatever you want."
Leaving the table, I felt him reach out for me but by the time I'd turned around Kharmia was already between him and me. Her back was to me and his wrist was clenched in one of her hands. Whatever she said was in a language, probably some spoken cipher, that I didn't understand. I wandered back toward my people, the superheroes of Yarborough. And Edwin.
Nishelle drew me down into the group, who had decided to huddle in a corner while I was making new friends. I tucked my head against her and enjoyed it as my men slowly cocooned me from view.
"Guy seems like an asshole up close," Edwin muttered. "Too bad, really. He's always got amazing PR on television."
Izzy sniffed. "Yes, well. Some people are just better spoken when it's all planned out rather than on the spot. I'm sure he didn't do anything particularly offensive."
"Threatened me, very briefly. Remembered I could throw him out a window," I said, then chuckled. "Guess it doesn't matter so much for a Flyer, but still. Adam could've grounded his ass."
Adam kissed the top of my head and ran his big bear paws over my back. "Adam doesn't intend to do anything of the sort. It'll just be really sad for him if he decides to put a hand on you."
"Be really sad for him if he decides to put a hand on any of us. I don't need protecting any much more than the rest of you. But I damn sure ain't about to lay down for Starboy over there," I grumbled.
I buried my head against Adam a moment later and sighed. It wasn't worth fighting about, but I didn't like being treated like I was a weakling. Without his ability to fly, Chris wouldn't even be one of us. And I could still throw his stupid ass through a wall if I wanted to.
The night dragged on, our groups never really mixing. Isabella went over to talk with them twice, but they'd settled at the kitchen table around a chessboard and seemed to be enjoying themselves. Maybe we weren't the best group in any Alliance building, but we had heart. And we had each other.
Eventually, Kharmia came over and sat down next to us. "I'm sorry about Starseer. He's been having trouble with his boyfriend and their girlfriend. It's been a mess and he's been biting everyone around him for the past few weeks. We're about sick of it. I'm trying to talk him into a better mood."
It was Edwin who spoke up first. "He's in a multi-person relationship?"
"Something like that. I don't know if they're all actually involved with each other or what's really going on. It's not like I interview my co-workers about their personal lives."
I stared at her. I couldn't imagine a time when I wasn't bothering other superheroes about themselves. It was common knowledge that anything said to another superhero would probably reach the ears of every single one of us by the end of the day. Which, of course, is why all this secrecy was hitting us at such a strange angle. It had been very few times that I'd seen real secrets kept back in Yarborough for more than a week, much less years.
Maybe no one had known about Scribe and Allison, but they should have. Someone should have seen them coming and going. Or maybe a medical report should have popped up, made it public knowledge that she was pregnant. Sure, we were in incredible physical shape, but a bulging uterus can only be hidden for so long from everyone's view.
That had been bothering me, but I hadn't been able to put it to words. As the others spoke with Kharmia, I let my mind wander on the subject. A secret pregnancy. A leader in disgrace. And, last but not least, a superhero who had been one of the frontliners against the first Kipas to land on our planet.
Had something happened to her in the field? Maybe she'd delivered incredibly early, but I'd sworn that Emma wasn't a premature kid. Maybe she'd been wearing lose clothing? But I'd been there, too. I'd been right there beside her, fighting for truth, justice, and the Yarborough way of life. All of us had.
And then I remembered something.
It was something I wasn't supposed to remember, I was pretty certain of that, because there was a sudden shrieking agony through my skull. The Kipas had hit us with something, some kind of blast that had blown up the street around us. It'd been bright enough that I was certain the sun had been put out; but it hadn't ended there.
I rubbed a hand over the back of my head. There was nothing there, but hadn't I cut my head wide open that day? Hadn't they had to shave it to stitch up the wound, leaving a bump and a scar?
Where was the scar?
I grabbed Nishelle and pulled her close, looking at the back of her neck. She blinked at me and frowned over her shoulder. "Strikes?"
"Hang on a second."
I parted her hair, what wasn't tied to her braids, and looked. There was no scar there, either. In the midst of the fight, Ember had gotten thrown into a car. She'd been impaled on a windshield wiper and nearly died on the way to the hospital. Of course, she'd made it or she wouldn't be sitting in front of me.
Was she?
My mind began to slide down a dark, deep tunnel that promised horrors at the end. I pulled away from her and gently held my head between my hands, trying to sort it all out.
