“So we’ll take one.”

Easier said than done. As soon as the development plan went through the committee. She kept saying that, didn’t she?

“Celia—”

Her cell phone rang. Her personal phone, with Analise’s name on the caller ID. Too early to be facing this call. She hadn’t worked out what she was going to say. Arthur merely gazed innocently at the ceiling; he wasn’t going to be any help.

Carefully, like handling dynamite, she answered the call.

“Celia?”

She tried to judge Analise’s mood by her voice—stressed, certainly. Sharp, edged with anger. And panic. Celia could guess her emotional state because she’d been living in that state herself the last week or so.

“Hi, Analise,” she said, sighing.

“Have you seen the Eye this morning? Are those my kids? Tell me those are not my kids.”

She spoke slowly, trying to give so very little away. “Yes, I’ve seen the Eye. I don’t know if they’re your kids, they’re wearing masks.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, the masks don’t mean anything to you.”

Celia first met Analise precisely because she’d recognized the woman in her civilian guise, without Typhoon’s mask. “Really, you’d know better than I would—have they been sneaking out at odd hours?” Like my kid has …

“I don’t know, they’re being … sneaky!”

“Analise, do you want to go get lunch? We should have lunch.”

“No, I don’t think we should, because I need to yell, and I’m not going to yell at you in a restaurant.”

I should have told her sooner, Celia realized. Right from the start, I should have told her. We should have been doing this together. “Have you asked them? Show them the paper and see what they say—”

“I did, and you know what they said? ‘Mom, that’s crazy.’ In stereo, like they’d been practicing. But I’m not asking them right now, I’m asking you.”

“Analise—

“Back in my day I was the only black superhero in Commerce City, and now two black kids show up in costumes fighting crime and you’re going to tell me they’re not mine?”

“Fine. You’re right. It’s Teia and Lew.”

A long pause. Analise probably hadn’t expected her to admit it. Celia wanted to crawl under the desk. Arthur stood by, being very quiet, looking sympathetic.

“You knew,” Analise said finally. During the pause, she’d obviously figured it out. “You knew they had powers, that they were planning something like this, this whole time.”

“I didn’t know they were planning something, honest, I only thought … I guess I hoped that if any of them did have powers, they’d be there for each other. Help each other.”

“They—this isn’t just about my kids, is it? My kids, your kids—that other kid in the picture. And who else? And they were only ever going to help each other if … The scholarships. That was you, wasn’t it? So you could put them right where you wanted them. Putting together your own little Olympiad.”

“No, that isn’t—”

“And you couldn’t tell me? Why couldn’t you tell me?”

Keeping it secret seemed like a good idea at the time was a very lame excuse. “Analise, I’m—”

“I can’t talk to you right now,” she said, flustered, and the phone clicked off.

Celia tossed the gadget onto the desk and glared. The gnawing hole in her stomach seemed to be getting bigger. She probably could have handled that better. Starting about five

years ago, when she put together this crazy scheme.

Tags: Carrie Vaughn Golden Age Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net