Part 35 (1/2)

That night, I was once again on Good Intentions Lane, despite my own best intentions. Or rather because of them. I s.h.i.+fted. Something squeaked in the trashcan next to me, and I inched away from it. I didn't want to see the foot-long rat staring at me from the piles of rotting garbage. I could see the waves of energy radiating off its body. That was more than enough.

At the stroke of midnight, the Westsiders appeared, just as Lulu had said they would. The Westsiders were men in their early twenties and thirties dressed in baggy pants and expensive sneakers. They climbed out of black SUVs and low-riders that blared rap music. The men slapped hands and did those complicated handshakes I could never follow.

Suddenly, a silver sword sailed through the air, just as it had so many weeks ago, and planted itself into one of the tires on a particularly large SUV. Striker leapt out onto the hood of a car and launched himself into the crowd. Momentslater, Fiera and Mr. Sage appeared. I even spotted Hermit in the mix. The superheroes waded through the gangsters like a chain saw cutting through b.u.t.ter. In less than a minute, half the gangsters were down. In another minute, the ones who could still move were running and crawling away.

My eyes focused on Striker. He punched a Westsider and lashed out at another one with his booted foot.

He moved with deadly grace, just like always. He looked even better than I remembered. Even better than in my most vivid dream. My heart leapt at the sight of him. There was just something about that tight, black leather suit that drove me crazy.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone sneaking up behind Striker. The superhero was busy battling two other Westsiders. A ball of lightning glimmered in the hidden man's hand. I reached for the gray waves of energy around him. The ball fizzed out, and I used the ambient energy to throw the man into a nearby wall. He didn't get up.

Striker finished pummeling his foes. He whirled around, not quite sure what had happened. I stepped out from the shadows. He spotted me immediately.

”Carmen.” His eyes brightened, burning into me.

Striker opened his mouth to say something, when Hermit came over.

”Carmen! It's good to see you!” He clapped me on the back.

”You too Hermit.”

Fiera and Mr. Sage joined us. Westsiders groaned and moaned on the ground.

”So what brings you down here? Other than helping us out again,” Hermit asked. His goggles gleamed in the dark night.

I took a deep breath. ”I want to join the team. If you guys will still have me.”

”Of course we will. We'd be honored,” Striker said in a low, hesitant voice. ”If you're sure this is what you really want. We don't want to pressure you into anything.”

”I'm sure. This is where I need to be. I can feel it.” I gave him a tentative smile, which Striker returned.

My heart pounded.

”Excellent. Most excellent,” Mr. Sage said, pumping my hand. ”Welcome aboard, Carmen.”

”Thanks.”

Hermit smiled and clapped me on the shoulder. I looked at Fiera.

She stared at me. Finally, she nodded her head. ”Welcome to the team.”

I let out a breath. ”Thanks. I won't let you down. I promise.”

KarmaGirl.

”We'll see about that.” Fiera stalked around me, her blue eyes hot and thoughtful.

I s.h.i.+fted under her probing gaze. ”Why are you looking at me like that?”

”I'm just sizing you up,” Fiera said.

”Why?”

She put her hands on her hips. ”So I can make your costume, silly.”

I rode back to Sublime in the van with the Fearless Five. Once everyone had showered and changed into their regular clothes, we went upstairs to the kitchen. We ate junk food and talked and laughed and joked late into the night. Finally, though, the conversation turned to me and my new job as a superhero.

”There are several things we need to take care of,” Chief Newman said. ”First of all, we've got to work on your power. You've got a good grasp on it, but I think you could do more with it.”

”I need to plug her into all the computer systems, not to mention get her set up on all the communication equipment,” Henry added.

”She needs a costume and a mask,” Fiona said. ”I've got that covered.”

”Carmen needs her own room downstairs too,” Sam finished.

The four of them exchanged awkward glances. I knew what they were thinking.

”No,” I said. ”Tornado will always be with you guys. I can't take his place, and I don't want to. I'll use another room.”

Fiona squeezed my hand so hard I thought she was going to break my fingers. Somehow, I managed not to wince at her firm grip. Too much.

Finally, we said good night. I went up to my old suite and sat on the bed, waiting. A knock sounded a few moments later. My inner voice whispered. This was it. The big moment. The one I'd been waiting for all night.

I opened the door. Sam stood outside. For once, the superhero wore a pair of loose jeans and a black Ts.h.i.+rt. Maybe my bad habits were rubbing off on him. He looked as yummy in them as he did everything else, and my hormones kicked into overdrive.

”Hey,” I said in what I hoped was a cool, collected voice.

”Hey yourself.”

He stood there in front of me. So close. So far away.

I stepped back. ”Come in, if you want.”