Dreams of the Golden Age (Golden Age 2)

His smile turned pained. “No. I don’t think they’d understand. My mother isn’t around much—she’s a concert pianist and travels a lot. My father—he’s kind of a control freak. If he knew what I could do, he’d find a way to monetize it, never mind how I felt. It’s kind of a cliché, isn’t it? Big wheel corporate tycoon, never had time for his kids who now resent him. I ought to be grateful. If he kept better tabs on me I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

“Oh, you’d find a way.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah.”

“I take it you haven’t told anyone, either. Outside of your friends, I mean.”

It would have been easy to tell him everything—so nice, to be talking to someone who understood. If she revealed enough clues he’d figure it out on his own. She’d have to tread carefully.

“No, I haven’t told my family. I don’t even know why. My mom’s kind of the same, corporate control freak. She’d be way too interested. Same with my dad. But I think … I’m sure they know something’s up. I mean, this is Commerce City, if your kid is sneaking out in the middle of the night, she might just have superpowers. But at this point I don’t know what to tell them, so I just keep quiet.”

Away from campus, the buildings climbed higher, becoming a forest of glass and concrete. The sky above was a hazy patchwork.

She asked, “Did you want to come to Commerce City for college because of its superheroes?”

“Sure. You guys have the tradition. I was hoping to meet some of them. You, I mean. And, well, here we are.”

She wondered what her parents would say if she told them she wanted to go to college in Delta and get away from Commerce City. She wondered if she would still be able to pinpoint their locations from that far away.

“This looks good.” He found an alley leading to a loading dock a block away from their target. It was even legal parking, since the No Parking signs were business hours only. “Ready to suit up?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He had a cover for the car, which would camouflage it. The thing did stand out, but under the dark canvas it seemed more like part of the scenery. He wore the leggings of his skin suit under his jeans, which meant he was pretty hard-core—always ready to leap to the rescue. He had to switch shirts, and she tried not to stare at his muscular chest. The guy did work out, after all. Probably knew all kinds of martial arts. She should have done karate instead of soccer.

She should also maybe think about getting a real uniform, if she was going to keep doing this. The dark coat and ski mask looked silly next to him.

“You come up with a name yet?” Anna asked.

“What do you think of Leapfrog?”

“Kind of lame,” she said.

“Yeah, then no.”

“You have to get your picture in the paper if you want someone to come up with a cool name for you.” Though that didn’t always work out. A few years ago, a vigilante with superspeed showed up busting crime in torn jeans, a T-shirt, and a cloth mask. The papers called him Blue Collar because of the clothes, never mind what his powers were. They’d be likely to call Eliot Greenie, assuming the pictures they got were in color.

Keeping to shadows, they made their way to Horizon Tower, the fifty-story skyscraper housing the law firm. The building was fifteen or so years old, and not one of West Corps’ projects, so Anna didn’t know as much about it as she would have if her mother was keeping tabs on it. The fake-bronze framing around the mirrored glass lining the exterior was already looking dated, part of a style that was hip and cutting edge at one time but had been quickly abandoned for more classic designs. Eliot was right, though—the upper floors were tiered, offering him lots of good landing and launch points. She sighed. Looked like she’d be spending another night hanging out in doorways and stairwells.

The sound of a car engine traveled up the street, and Anna grabbed Eliot’s sleeve and pulled him flat against the concrete wall around the building’s base. A white police sedan slid up the street and kept going. Didn’t see them, and probably wouldn’t see Eliot’s car under the cover.

Eliot looked up, studying the façade. No lights showed through any of the windows, and from the back they couldn’t see if anyone was keeping watch on the lobby. West Plaza had a guard at the front desk twenty-four hours a day. “Can you t

ell if any security guards are wandering around?” he asked.

“No. I can only find specific people, not people in general.”

“Oh. Too bad.”

Whatever.

He walked to the end of the alley, craned his neck back, and pointed. “That one. That ledge will get us to the right floor. If we can’t get in without triggering an alarm, we can leave fast enough.” And the car was a block away, so they’d have time to get away before anyone found it.

“You have a phone? Maybe I can call you and sound some kind of alarm if I see something out here.”

“Don’t you want to come?”