"'Who are you?' he asked.
'I am the future queen of this world, at the very least. You may refer to me as Mistress Koboi for the next five minutes. After that you may refer to me as Aaaaarrrrgh, hold your throat, die screaming, and so on.'"
– Eoin Colfer, Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox
Gold's P.O.V.
"Does anyone else feel that?"
"I don't feel anything, I'm going back to sleep."
"B.S. dude, we're heroes, we don't get sleep.... Hello?"
"Guys I'm sure it's nothing, go back to sleep."
"What about you Gold? Hey bud, you there?"
I blinked up at the ceiling. I wanted to help, really I did, but I just... needed... sleep. Ever since the press conference last week, I'd been swept up in a whirlwind of public appearances, interviews, and saving even more supers who continued to flake out on us. My head swam from the chaos of everything: in the past two years I had gone from a nobody to the city's favourite teenager and now the target of all the blame.
Where Annie spent the last week relaxing from the stress of the Invisible Hand's betrayal, I spent the last week desperately trying to persuade everyone that there had been no way to know of IH's true nature; that he genuinely seemed good! Some small part of me felt resentment churning inside about Annie's worries. All she had to stress about was heartbreak. I was facing possible prosecution for obstruction of justice! To think, a month ago people loved me and now, they called me a vigilante. Their spiteful comments about us supers taking the law into our own hands stung more than any rejection.
But now all I felt was guilt bubbling up the back of my throat. I knew how much a broken heart hurt. I couldn't blame Annie for feeling weak from it. After all, it wasn't a simple rejection... The guy who she was crazy about – the one who had broken his wrist just to make her laugh and taken her to Iceland to see the Northern lights – had tried to kill her.
That had to be worse than facing charges for my own obliviousness.
Right?
Four hours ago, I'd fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, my whole body throbbing from exhaustion. It was the most sleep I'd gotten at any one time all week, but of course, it was short-lived.
"Gold? You awake?"
I let out a dramatic sigh. "Who could get any sleep with you in my ear all night, Bat Boy?" I asked, my tone clipped.
"Eyy, there's my favourite sleep-deprived superhero."
"Thanks," I muttered, rolling out of bed and trading sweatpants for spandex. I glanced down distastefully at the tight gold fabric, snapping it against my thigh before crossing to the window. I shared a small studio apartment with my older sister who was conveniently never home, always out with her dead beat of a boyfriend, so it made hiding my double life much easier. She still paid the rent and that's all that mattered.
Heaving open the window was a feat. Even with my super strength, nothing can beat New York City windows. Eventually though, I got it open, letting in a cool blast of air. Rubbing my stomach a little, I zeroed in on the source of the anxiety. It was a bar in Queens: not the best part of the city, I'll admit, but in my domain nonetheless. Letting out an exhausted sigh, I rubbed my eyes, and took off into the night.
***
I arrived at the bar a few minutes later with Annie and Lila squabbling in my ear.
"Lila's being dramatic again. She says Finn has "absinthe" eyes. Only she would turn liquor into a description of eye colour and make it sound romantic."
[unintelligible]
"She's getting weirdly poetic. Now she said they have an aeviternal love. I'm serious. Only Lila's vocabulary would expand when she's tired."
Resisting the urge to scream, I yanked out the ear chip and stuffed it deep into one of the many hidden pockets of my spandex. It was two o'clock in the fucking morning. The last thing I wanted at the moment was to listen to Annie's whining.
I raked a hand through my tangled hair and stepped into the bar. Looking around distastefully at the stained walls and peeling plywood, I spotted a very familiar face... And of course he was the cause for all of this.
After plugging my ear chip back in I let out a relieved hiss when I wasn't met by either of the girls' voices. Clearing my throat, I whispered as subtly as I could so as not to draw attention to myself. "Um guys, I might need some back up..."
"Sorry bro, everyone's asleep except you and me," Bat Boy whispered back.
"And when are you getting here?" I tried to sound calm as I massaged my temples. Keeping my eyes open long enough not to fall asleep was proving an unconquerable task.
"Honey! Where did you put my favourite scrubby brush?"
"I didn't touch it, Sarah!" Bat Boy screamed back, before whispering, "working on it!" to me.
"I NEED it, Noah!" It's a good thing nobody else was on the line lest someone overheard Bat Boy's girlfriend call him by name.
I sighed, "whatever man, just help Sarah and get here when you can." Noah's girlfriend may have been a little bossy, but the two of them really did make a cute couple. They had been living together for just over a year now and the biggest argument they'd had to date was over various missing household items.
"Thanks Gold," Bat Boy gushed before the line went quiet. Shaking my head I sauntered over to the bar and tried my best to look inconspicuous. It didn't exactly work; spandex wasn't the subtlest apparel one could wear in a bar. Eyes followed me wherever I went and I got a terrible feeling that a repeat of Staten Island was going to happen sometime soon.
The bar was a mess. There were overturned bar stools and shattered glass shards everywhere. A few customers hung back to watch the show or were busy placing bets on what was about to happen. Most, however, paid the teenager little to no attention as he ranted on. I had a bad feeling about that...
Eventually I made my way over so I was standing behind the catalyst of it all. He had traded in his usual spandex for jeans and a navy blue tee shirt that hugged his body obnoxiously. Typical. And despite whatever drunk frenzy he was in, his black hair still looked perfect. If it wasn't for all of his slurring and stumbling about, I wouldn't have known he was drunk. I was just about to ask the bartender what he was doing serving alcohol to a minor when I was interrupted by:
"So I told her to get over it and she nearly blew up at me! Would you believe it?" He slurred, throwing his head back and letting out a hoot of bawdy laughter. Meanwhile, the man pinned underneath him was chortling nervously, clearly trying to figure out an escape route. Using my super speed, I ducked between the super's legs, grabbed the man, whisked him away, and was back in my position behind the super before he had time to process what was going on.
He looked down, confused as to how his victim had gotten away before shrugging it off and turning to his now-empty glass. "I like this..." he said pensively before letting it smash on the ground and demanding, "another!"
"Okay, Thor, I think you've had enough," I said quietly, arms outstretched like I was talking to a wild animal. And then he turned... The confusion in his rich blue eyes fading to recognition as he looked at me and his face broke out into a broad smile.
"Oh hey there Gold," Ciaran grinned innocently, "your eyes are a lot like hers, you know."
"Whose?"
"Annie's."
"Ah..."
"Same watercolour blue..."
I stayed silent.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," Ciaran mused, cradling his hand. So he was hurt... Good.
"Come on Ciaran, let me take you home," I pleaded, "I'm tired. I don't want a bar fight."
Ciaran's eyebrows furrowed, "who said anything about a fight?" He frowned. "You want to fight me? What the hell, Gold? I just wanted to have a little fun!" Ciaran's fists balled by his sides and he was starting to tremble with anger, his face turning red as he shook. "Are you here to kill me, Gold?" He sneered, "go on then. Try. I dare you."
I shook my head, "why would I kill you?"
"I tried to kill Annie."
"I'm the good guy, Ciaran. I don't kill people to get even." By now, we had drawn quite a bit of attention to ourselves.
"Not even to avenge the girl you love?"
I stared at him, blinking for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Actual. Laughter. "You think–" I wheezed "–that I love–" wheeze "–Annie?"
Ciaran just stared at me, so I took it as my cue to continue.
"First of all, I'm not in love with anyone!" I sniggered. "Second of all, I got over Annie months ago!"
"So... The Claw then?"
"Nobody, Ciaran," I laughed, wiping an eye and praying I was selling it, "I don't like anybody right now. I'm a superhero. I don't have time for a girlfriend!" More like I can't get one... Getting rejected by not one but two girls in the past few months had seriously wounded my ego...
Right as I was saying this, however, I made eye contact with one of the baristas who was watching me curiously with pursed lips and for a second, I almost took back my previous statement. The girl was gorgeous, the likes of which I'd never seen before! It was all natural beauty. Sure she wore a little eye liner, but who doesn't nowadays? With pale, creamy skin, flaming red hair, and lavender-gray eyes, she reminded me of an older, taller, and skinnier version of Athena.
Meanwhile Ciaran was rambling about something so I tore my gaze from the pretty barista to stare back at him. "–villains who don't get the girls. The superhero always gets the girl, dumbass, it's how these things work."
"Ciaran, you've had too much to drink. Let me take you home."
"No thanks."
"It wasn't a question."
"Look," Ciaran gave me a pointed look and crossed the room, only to jab a finger in my chest, "It was sweet of you to come down here and play hero, Gold, but I. Don't. Need. You."
I grumbled something unintelligible before puffing out my chest. "I did not waste a whole flight out here just to listen to you mope and whine about how your girlfriend doesn't love you anymore because you turned evil. Again."
Ciaran blinked, "she loved me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Come on," I said, making a grab for his wrist. He lunged drunkenly away, screaming bloody murder.
"YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME, GOLD! I'LL BURN YOUR GOD DAMN BRAIN! MY CLONES WILL SLASH YOU TO PIECES! I–" His whims cut short when I latched on to his wrist. He struggled against me, but when my blood remained unboiled and when there were no clones trying to pry me off of him, I took it as my cue to continue dragging him out of the bar. Maybe he was too drunk to teleport. Guess we'd–
"Hey! You!"
I turned around just in time to see a green bottle come crashing down on my head. I crumpled, letting go of Ciaran's wrist as I lay slack against the dirty wood floor.
"What was that?" Bat Boy's voice crackled in my ear. Oh now the bastard pays attention!
"'Bout time," I tried to say, but my voice came out thick and gurgled so it sounded more like 'bow-hhyme'... I frowned. My head was throbbing and Bat Boy's voice came in murmured intervals through the ear piece. Actually, the whole room seemed to be pulsing along to the beat of my brain; everything was muted and indistinct; colours turned to acrylic blurs and as my eyes turned droopy, I could feel myself getting groggier with each breath. Each time I blinked, my eyelids struggled to open again.
I was just so tired...
Meanwhile the guy who hit me was yelling something along the lines of "–we don't like your kind around here, got that?"
What kind? What was happening? I couldn't think. I needed sleep. I opened my mouth to ask him what he was talking about, but all that came out of my mouth was a trickle of drool... My vision was growing increasingly blurrier, impaired only further when a trickle of blood dribbled into my eye, filling my vision with red. I snorted deliriously, never fully understanding the expression "seeing red" until now. Some distant part of me was vaguely aware of Ciaran snoring next to me on the ground and I somehow managed to roll my eyes. Big help he would be.
The last thing I saw before I passed out was a flash of red.
But... It wasn't blood.
***
I woke up to a sharp pain in my forehead.
"Ow!" I winced, scrunching up my nose in pain.
"Sorry," a woman chuckled, "bit of a baby, aren't you?"
"Who are you calling a baby?" I grumbled, belatedly realising that I could speak clearly again. Even though my mouth felt like it was full of cotton, at least my words were clear and crisp. The sharpness in my head had been reduced to a dull throbbing and I found it was due to the ice pack pressed against the bump on my forehead. The ice pack was connected to a pale hand which was connected to a body which belonged to... I gasped. It was the barista from earlier!
"I'm Karla," she shook my limp hand.
"Gold Thrush," I mumbled back, trying to sit up.
"Oh no you don't," she pushed me down gently by the shoulder.
"How long was I out?"
"Just ten minutes," she laughed again, "you call yourself a superhero and yet you've never been hit on the head by a beer bottle?"
"First time for everything," I shrugged. Finally the fuzzy wall that seemed to be blocking my mind from reality receded and I could think semi-clearly again. I realised that the ear chip had gone silent and Bat Boy was probably on his way down here. Then I remembered why I was here...
"Ciaran!"
"Relax, your friend's passed out in the back room, sleeping it all off. He racked up a pretty big tab, you know. Hope you can pay for it."
"Uhh..." I muttered unintelligibly.
Karla laughed again, "it's fine. You can work it off."
"Me?" I narrowed my eyes.
"He's your friend."
"No. He's not." I snapped.
"Wow, don't shoot the messenger," she held up her hands in defeat and rocked back on her heels before standing up and brushing herself off. "Sorry about my brother, by the way. He's pretty anti-superhero, if you hadn't noticed."
"Your brother hit me?"
"Yeah, he's gone now though. Dad closed up the bar."
"Dad..."
"My dad owns it."
I couldn't figure out why she was telling me all of this. It reminded me of some annoying dogma Annie had rambled on about a while ago when she was venting about how much she had confided in IH. I had zoned out for most of it since I still liked her at the time, but I remembered the part about how girls spilled everything to the guys they like, but I doubted it was true. Most girls were just really talkative in my experience. Take Annie, for instance. I rolled my eyes, remembering the time where she had talked for six minutes straight about cinnamon buns. That's right: she gave me a whole chronological recount on the history of the cinnamon bun.
I shuddered a little at the thought of this girl – Karla – giving me a chronological account of her family's history of hating superheroes. Or something... "Okay, well thanks for your help, but I gotta get going."
"Not until you work off that tab," Karla crossed her arms.
"Ciaran can do it," I fired back.
"He's asleep."
"So wake him up!"
"Already tried."
I started grumbling unintelligibly about her lack of skill at waking men up before stalking over to the bar, filling a pitcher with water, pausing to ask if the water was free, before proceeding to slam open the door to the back room (knocking it off its hinges in the process, to which Karla promptly reminded me I'd have to pay for that too), and dumping the entire contents of the pitcher all over Ciaran's face.
He shot up, spluttering and glaring at me. His eyes were bloodshot and I had a feeling he was far from sober.
"What the fu–" His head snapped to the right as my knuckles connected with his cheek and for a second, he just stared up at me with a completely dazed expression. My right hook had always been pretty good, but the super strength had definitely helped.
"We have to clean the bar."
"Five more minutes," Ciaran mumbled through an already swollen left cheek and flopped back down on the couch he had been propped up on.
"No," I grabbed a handful of his tee shirt shirt and tugged him to his feet, bringing his face real close to mine as I hissed, "now."
With that, we set about picking up his mess. A couple people had been hurt apparently, but nobody was pressing charges, courtesy of Karla's, erm, persuasive skills. I worried a little at having let them escape before I could get Dresden to work some mind magic on them and make them forget everything (if he even had those sorts of powers), but I doubted they'd have been sober enough to piece together the clues that Ciaran was the Invisible Hand.
After a few minutes, Ciaran managed to prove that he was more of a nuisance than help, so I used my super speed to whiz around the bar and put everything back in its place before zooming to a stop in front of a very frazzled Karla. She put her hands on her hips and fixed me with a calculating look.
"Who are you?" She asked.
"I already told you–"
"I mean behind the mask."
I smirked, "if I told you that, I'd have to–"
"If you say 'kill me'..."
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Well... Good." She crossed her arms.
"Good," I grinned, crossing my own arms back at her. She rolled her eyes and gave me a gentle push out of the bar with Ciaran in tow.
"I'll see you around Mr Superhero," she winked at me.
"I hope so," I flirted back. We watched each other for a couple seconds before Ciaran had to ruin the moment by throwing up all over my boots.
"Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?" I ground through clenched teeth. He looked sheepishly up at me before crawling over to a bush and heaving up the contents of his stomach.
"Leave the boots here," Karla sighed.
"What?"
"I work at a bar. I know how to get puke out of clothing; I'm sorry to say I've had lots of practice." She laughed.
Shrugging, I stepped out of my boots and handed them to her. She pinched them between her thumb and her forefingers, shooting a glare at Ciaran who continued to throw up in the bush.
"Hold his hair," she giggled.
"How about no?"
And with that, I grabbed the back of still-puking Ciaran's shirt collar and flew off into the night, leaving behind a chuckling Karla. Wow. That girl was... Wow.
Spectacular... A little voice nagged. She was spectacular.
***
"OW!" Ciaran protested as I dumped him on the ground. We were in the middle of Central Park and I was determined to sober him up before I brought him anywhere near his apartment – not that I knew where it was. He was too drunk to remember.
"Stop being a baby," I grunted, walking a few steps and collapsing into a patch of grass where, exhausted, I lay back and spread my arms, staring up at the stars. I closed my eyes for a few seconds before a shadow blocked out the dull street lights. I peered up at Ciaran who was watching me adamantly, head positioned directly over mine. I gulped. "You're not going to throw up on me again, are you?"
Ciaran scoffed, "no." He crossed his arms and stepped back. I took a second to look around the empty park. We were in Sheep Meadow – at least from what I could tell in the dark. A wire fence enclosed the field and other than a couple oak trees, Sheep Meadow was aptly named for it was a pretty open space. From here I could see the tops of some of the buildings that skirted the park peaking over the tree tops. There wasn't much moonlight, but the night was abnormally clear and for once, the stars shone through the tree leaves like fireflies lighting up the night.
And then Ciaran had to open his mouth and ruin the peaceful bliss with: "if you're just going to just lie there all night, can I go?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that when I opened them, he'd disappear. My head was pounding from getting hit by a bottle, I desperately needed sleep, and the last person I wanted to be stuck alone in a park with was exactly the person I was stuck alone in a park with. Just like he ruined whatever had been happening with Karla by throwing up on my boots, he was ruining whatever peace of mind I had left. I wriggled my cold, shoeless toes at the thought.
Sitting up, I growled. "Well what the hell's stopping you?"
Ciaran pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and grimaced.
"Ah," I smirked knowingly. "Did you learn your lesson about binge drinking?"
Ciaran shot daggers at me, giving me the silent treatment. I shrugged. Fine by me. I flopped back into the grass. He followed me a few seconds later, lying next to me with his hands folded under his head as he too gazed up at the sky.
"The only thing that would make this better is–"
"I swear to God, if you say if Annie were here, I'll punch you all the way back to Iceland where you were at least a decent human being," I muttered darkly.
Ciaran let out a husky laugh, "wasn't planning on it," he said smugly, "and besides. I went to Iceland. Can't say I was very fond with the results."
"What, nearly getting eaten by wolves didn't do it for you?" I scoffed.
"Precisely," Ciaran drew a check in the air with his finger, "kind of puts a damper on one's day."
I stayed silent.
"You thought I was going to say if Annie were here," he drawled, catching my attention. I turned my head to look at him, eyebrows raised.
"And?"
"And I think you're jealous," he said proudly.
I barked out a laugh, "yeah, you also think it's okay to drop innocent girls from the tops of skyscrapers, so I'd say your perception of reality is a little screwed up."
Ciaran narrowed his eyes. "Then why did you get angry about it?"
"Because you've done nothing but lead that poor girl on ever since you dragged her into this."
It was Ciaran's turn to raise his eyebrows, "I dragged her into this?"
"Yeah," I sat up on my elbows and narrowed my eyes at him, "you did."
"I saved her life."
"Then you continued to stalk her over the next few weeks until she had no choice but to fall for you," I countered.
"That was kind of the plan, dumbass," he rolled his eyes, turning his gaze skywards once again, "earn her trust, and then–"
"Break her heart?"
Ciaran pursed his lips.
"Was that part of your plan, Ciaran? Breaking the poor girl's heart?" When he still didn't reply, I continued taunting him. "What, cat got your tongue?"
He was on top of me in a flash, pinning me to the ground.
"Look," he hissed, "I. Had. My. Reasons. Annie's annoying as fuck, but she doesn't deserve this. You really think I'd willingly do what I did?"
I shrugged underneath him, "yeah."
"You gotta trust me Gold."
That surprised me. "Kinda don't."
Ciaran sat back on his haunches before rolling off of me and resuming his position in the grass. I relaxed a little, now that he didn't have an advantage over me, and asked, "so you still like her then?"
"Who said I liked her in the first place?"
I snapped my mouth shut. True... It could have been an act right from the very beginning. That's what he said, wasn't it?
"Annie's a great kid," I said slowly, "you've proved your point. You don't need to hurt her anymore."
"So you do like her," Ciaran fired back. I rolled my eyes.
"Did you not listen to anything I said tonight?"
"I'm drunk," Ciaran smirked, "what can I say?"
"You don't seem so drunk anymore."
"Throwing up all the alcohol in your stomach – and more – can really sober a person up."
"Noted."
We lay there in silence for a few awkward minutes before I cleared my throat and asked, "so what were you doing in Queens?" I turned my head to look at Ciaran, flattening my ear against the grass.
"Isn't it obvious?" He smirked up at the sky, "getting drunk."
I ignored the small flame or irritation flickering in the pit of my stomach. "But why?" I pressed.
Ciaran mimicked my movement, turning to face me so we were staring at each other's faces, our bodies still facing the vast stratosphere above.
"It's the anniversary of my parents' death," he sighed.
"Oh..." I tied to say, but no sound came out. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Oh."
"Yeah," he turned back to the stars so I was left staring at his profile. "It wasn't pretty. The cops asked me to identify their bodies, but I just... I couldn't."
"It was hard, huh?"
"No, not that–" he faltered when he saw my penetrating look. "Okay," he conceded, "obviously it was hard for... for those reasons. But I mean... I literally could not identify them. They had been in the fire so long, all their hair was singed off. Their bodies were all burnt and mangled and it was... It was like the fire at the school all those months ago."
I swallowed, the memory of a hallway littered with dead bodies plastered forever in my mind. I could still smell the putrid odour of cooked flesh, still see the blackened skin like burnt lasagne, still hear the wailing cries of the injured or their friends...
Ciaran, Annie, Lodestone, and the Claw had lost one fourth of their classmates that day, the number of the dead equalling the number of their school's senior class. One fourth of their school – their friends, classmates, teachers – wiped out. After that day, I hadn't been able to sleep right for a week. But maybe I just had a sleeping problem. After all, I haven't been sleeping right now, either... But with a life like mine, you don't get much sleep with the nightmares you see every day.
That day must have been a nightmare for Ciaran, reliving exactly what had happened to his parents so soon after they died. For him to even see that in the first place was horrifying, but for him to have to witness his mom and dad, two people he should never have had to see dead in the first place, let alone burnt and mangled, must have been truly traumatic. If I'm honest, I couldn't blame him for being a little pissed at Arson. I would be too. I may even have murdered Grace Williams had I been in his place. Actually, when I thought about it, I wouldn't have done anything differently than he did. If it had been my mom or dad or sister, I wouldn't put it past myself to go crazy with grief. Just. Like. Him.
"You have a sister?"
It took a few seconds for me to reply. I was a little shocked I had said that part out loud. "Yeah..." I hesitated. "She's great. She's only a year older than me so we get along pretty well. The only thing we fight about is that deadbeat boyfriend of hers."
"Oh?"
"He's as dumb as a stick."
"Don't hate on sticks," Ciaran chided, "some are pretty smart."
"I think that was possibly the worst joke I've ever heard," I laughed.
Ciaran chuckled, "it was possibly the worst joke I've ever told." He let out a huge yawn before rolling over so his back was facing me. "It's nice out here, Gold," he mumbled.
"Yeah," I agreed, "it is."
The stars seemed to wink back at me in agreement, but I didn't say that out loud.
"You're not too bad, you know."
I pursed my lips. Like hell would I say 'you're not too bad yourself'.
Ciaran continued, "too bad we'll go back to trying to kill each other tomorrow."
"I already told you Ciaran," I sighed, "I don't kill people to get even."
"You probably should," Ciaran sighed peacefully and I could tell he was on the verge of sleep. Great. I'd probably have to babysit him all night to make sure he didn't drown in his own vomit. Then again, a voice said in my mind, that would be one less problem to worry about...
I frowned, "what do you mean?" I guess I had meant to direct that question towards myself, but Ciaran mistook it as a question meant for him.
"You're a superhero: a vigilante. You should really start acting like one."
IMPORTANT!!!!!! PLEASE READ!!!!!!
Sadly this book is nearly at its end :(
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P.S. Has Gold found love at last?
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