After the Golden Age (Golden Age 1)

“It wasn’t babysitting. You were bait. We were hoping they’d try for you again, and we could catch them. If you knew, you’d have acted differently. Word might have gotten out, and they might not have tried.”

The four in the pool looked caught, to say the least. There was her hidden talent. Celia West: Bait Girl. Hostage Lass. The Captive Wonder.

The police arrived then, right on schedule, a dozen of them stomping out of the locker rooms, guns out and pointed at the would-be kidnappers.

Of course, Mark was with them. How could he not be? She didn’t want him here. She didn’t want him to see her angry.

Before any well-meaning officers could try to help her, she got to her feet. Her towel was gone—probably a sodden mess washed up in a corner somewhere. Never mind. She’d stand under the wall dryer if she had to.

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sp; “Celia!” Mark called and ran to her. She took a deep breath and was calm by the time her counting reached seven. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice flat. “Just a little shaken up.”

He held her arms, studied her, then kissed her forehead. She let him, but her skin crawled. She just wanted to get out of here.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Really. I’m sorry, I’m not thinking straight.” She tried a brave smile. He was trying to be nice. Being very gentlemanly, really.

The surface of the water had settled; the kidnappers dog-paddled awkwardly to the ladder, and the cops fished them out. Typhoon gave Mark a haphazard salute.

“I’m out of here, boys. ’Til next time.” She ducked out through the locker room. She’d be out of the building and out of her costume in minutes.

“She sure got here quick,” Mark said.

“They’ve been following me. My parents, the other supers—they thought this would happen again.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I’m … never mind.”

“Give me ten minutes. I’ll drive you home.”

Then he’d want to stay with her. She had to think of a way to tell him no without hurting his feelings.

She found a dry towel, dried off, and changed while Mark arrested the kidnappers. She finished before him, and went to wait in the front lobby of the rec center.

Meeting Arthur Mentis on the way in was almost the last straw. Presumably he was here to scan the kidnappers before they could get their thoughts in order. He saw her; she couldn’t hide. Not that he had to see her to see her.

She turned her back to him, as if that would make him disappear, or hide her thoughts from him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave you alone,” he said, continuing through the lobby to the pool area.

Almost, she called out to him. Almost, she begged him to wait. She could tell him how she was feeling; he’d understand.

But he kept walking, and she kept her mouth shut.

Mark brought her dinner to her place. It took three hours to convince him to leave. He couldn’t understand that what she most wanted—the best way to handle days like these—was to get back to normal as quickly as possible. No coddling, no special treatment. Just normal. Was it so hard?

TWELVE

CELIA was back at work the next day. She started in on the first thing in her in-box that didn’t involve the Sito case.

The receptionist buzzed her at noon. “Celia, you have a visitor.”

She wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe it was Mark, still showering her with concern. But he always called first. She braced herself for a surprise.