Super

27 - My First Thought? Throw Soap At It

"I'm going invisible. Just... stay where you are and try not to get killed."

"Great advice from the life guru," I rolled my eyes, but Ciaran was already fading into the inky black sky. For a moment, I panicked. Not being able to see him, all the wolves turned their attention on me. I gulped.

One squealed as Ciaran must have kicked its legs out from under him. The yet-to-be-named wolf collapsed on its hind legs and Bert, Axel, and Dave turned once again to glare at me. They did not seem amused. However, they did seem a little intimidated by an invisible enemy.

Ciaran's clones must have disappeared because every blow to the wolves came one at a time. It must have taken too much energy to clone himself and remain invisible. Given that the cloning was the power with the most limitations, I figured it probably took the most energy. A gust of wind blew over my bare arms and chilled me even further as goosebumps radiated over my skin. I shivered, but stilled when I noticed all four wolves' noses perk up. They all turned in one direction where there were slight indents in the snow.

At the same time, I heard a familiar voice mutter, "shit."

The wind had blown Ciaran's sent to them and now they were able to hunt blind.

"Ciaran!" I screamed as two of the four wolves lunged.

Now timing is a funny thing when it comes to superheroes. They're usually late, and yet they always seem to arrive just in the knick of time. A blur of gold arced across my vision, cutting my scream short and I blinked, trying to figure out just how Gold Thrush could have figured out we were in Iceland. But it wasn't Gold Thrush.

As the boy came to a stop in between Ciaran and the wolves, I noticed two things. The first: like Gold Thrush, he had blonde hair, but it was paler and had a longer, creamier face. His hair was spikier too, like Finn's, and he had icy blue eyes. The second, he wasn't wearing a mask.

The boy growled - actually growled - at the wolves and began shooing them away, whereas Ciaran and I just stared at him dumbfounded. Did he actually think–?

"It's... Working..." Ciaran choked back a laugh. Sure enough, the wolves were retreating.

"You're American," mused the boy in a thick accent, turning to face Ciaran. Clearly he was Icelandic. "What are you doing here?"

"We're on vacation," Ciaran muttered.

"You're a super," the boy noted.

"So are you," Ciaran countered. "Look, thanks for the help, but we were doing fine by ourselves–"

"Clearly not," the boy cocked an eyebrow. I considered naming him too until he introduced himself. "I'm Gabriel, by the way."

"Ciaran," Ciaran muttered, not looking happy, "how did you know I was a super?"

"It's one of my powers," Gabriel chuckled and turned to me, "and you are?"

"Annabelle. Why aren't you wearing a mask?"

"We don't wear masks here," Gabriel explained, "we appreciate our saviours. We don't try to hunt them down like you Americans," he spat in the snow.

"That's only some of us," I muttered.

"My apologies," Gabriel repented, although he didn't look very sorry. "We have a treaty with the wolves. We leave them food and they don't harm our people. Now..." Gabriel looked ruefully at the pile of bones that was once Rufus, "I'm not so sure."

"Hey, they attacked us!" Ciaran defended.

"Yes," Gabriel agreed, "very strange."

"Very strange? So you just watched them-?"