Heroine Complex (32 page)

“Nate will need to do a full medical exam to make sure you're fully recovered,” I said. “And Lucy will have to put you through some basic training. Why don't you
take over at that Small Business Crawl thing Bea mentioned last night? That'll give you a week to prep.”

“Okay.” Her head bobbed eagerly.

Scott stepped forward. “There's also the question of . . .” He hesitated.

“Of what?” Lucy asked.

“The power transfer spell.” He looked from me to Aveda then back again. “With this power level up, I should be able to do it now, no problem.”

No.
The response popped into my head, unbidden.

Before I could say anything, Aveda spoke up.

“Now that my power's awesome, I don't need the fire,” she said. “We can spin the telekinesis as an improvement. Fire can be kind of, I don't know, destructive? Makes people uncomfortable.”

I resisted the urge to disagree with her. The enthusiastic response from the karaoke crowd last night seemed to indicate otherwise.

Then again, why should I disagree with her? Thanks to this new development, I was getting everything I wanted. My days of fake superheroing were about to come to a close, I could finally control my fire, and I had a really hot boyfriend whose fingertips were now trailing suggestively down my back.

And yet, there was no sweet relief flooding through me. No sensation of a weight being lifted from my soul. I felt tense and twitchy and like I had something else to say, but couldn't quite say it.

Maybe I was just reeling from the slew of new developments in the last twenty-four hours. Or hell, from the last two weeks. I'd been through so much: emotionally, physically, supernaturally. I'd fought hard, I'd pushed through my fear. And now I'd finally arrived at my goal. It'd been such a hurricane of events and I was still processing and said goal didn't feel real yet. It'd probably be weird if I
wasn't
experiencing a little twitchiness.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Now why don't we take
this party out of my room and downstairs to Bea's birthday breakfast?”

I smiled at everyone.

But that twitchy feeling stayed with me for the rest of the day.

From the official website of Demon City Tours:

To the Potential Guests of Demon City Tours

We are doing our best to accommodate all requests, but please note that our tours are booked until further notice. To get on the waiting list, fill out the contact form below with your name, email, and the number of guests in your party and someone will get back to you. Thank you for your patience and understanding!

To respond to our newest frequently asked questions:

1. Yes, we have added the Yamato Theater and The Gutter to our list of stops.

2. No, we cannot guarantee a viewing and/or demonstration of Aveda Jupiter's fire power. We also can still not guarantee an appearance by Ms. Jupiter herself.

Most Recent Reviews of Demon City Tours

“This isn't really a review since I couldn't even get a spot on the tour for my upcoming San Francisco vacation. If you ask me, Demon City Tours needs to add more staff and vehicles. Clearly, everyone wants to see the new, improved, and super-fiery Aveda Jupiter in action! Aveda, if you're reading this: I love you! I may be #263 on the waiting list, but I'm definitely your #1 fan!”

—Jenn F., Timberlake, Ohio

“YOU'RE SURE IT'S
not too much?” Aveda twirled in front of me, the sequins accentuating her body sparkling in the morning light. She was debuting a new outfit, a glittery bodysuit thing that made her look like a mermaid going to a rave. Her hair was twisted into an elaborate nest of braids on top of her head and a trail of stars painted on her left cheekbone completed the ensemble. Bea had put together the entire look based on her own algorithm combining social media stats with the latest fashion trends.

“It's not too much.” I squeezed her hand. “You look fantastic.”

And she did. Glowing and gorgeous. San Francisco's perfect daughter.

It had been a week since we'd gotten our power level up, and the real Aveda Jupiter was about to return. Nate and I were with her at the starting point of the Small Business Crawl, which just happened to be Pussy Queen, Shasta's snooty underwear store. I noticed Shasta had invested in a garish new Pussy Queen sign featuring the slogan “a fine lingerie shoppe.” If I were about to go on as Aveda Jupiter, I'd probably accidentally blurt out that adding extra letters to words in order to make them appear classy was really fucking stupid.

But I wasn't about to go on. Aveda was.

The past week had been quiet. No new portals had opened up. I wondered if this was a new status quo; if, in light of the destruction of their princess, the demons of the Otherworld would withdraw from San Francisco altogether. My pessimistic side told me that was way too easy.

Still, I'd allowed myself to relax a little. As my fabulous Aveda Jupiter lifestyle got farther and farther away from me, I wondered what it would be like to settle into a normal routine. Especially now that I didn't have to worry about burning down any more buildings.

I had to admit: when I thought about fully embracing normalcy, I felt a little twinge of discontent. It was that same twinge I'd experienced when Aveda had declared her return to superherodom, and I couldn't quite figure out what it meant. I knew I didn't actually want to
be
her. The sheer pageantry of her existence was definitely not my speed. And I'd always wanted to be normal. So what was wrong with me?

Aveda squeezed my hand a little too hard, snapping me out of my thoughts. She hopped from foot to foot, her face apprehensive. We were positioned off to the side of the store, Nate standing in front of Aveda to shield her from view while Lucy threaded her way through the crowd, checking for security risks. Shasta stood under her hideous new sign, her red-lipsticked mouth stretched into a grin. She was clad in a blue polka-dot fifties-style dress, the skirt swishing back and forth as she moved. I wondered how she was coping without Maisy. After the Big Maisy Takedown, Rose brought Shasta in for questioning. She'd claimed not to know anything about Maisy's powers, that she'd thought Maisy was only trying to rule the city in a figurative sense. She'd even offered up her DNA, which had tested all human.

Still, she'd lost a best friend who'd given her a sort of coolness by association thing. That had to hurt.

“Welcome, everyone!” she screamed, her smile widening even further.

“Remember,” I said to Aveda, “you don't have to put on any power displays today. Just be yourself.”

We'd decided to hold off on telling the public about the change in Aveda's power until there was an organic opportunity for her to use telekinesis. Then Bea would send out a press release about how the fire had been replaced with something even better.

Well. Something different. Not necessarily
better
.

Aveda lifted a hand to her mouth then quickly lowered it before she could bite her nails. “What if I've forgotten how to talk in front of people?”

“Never. And if you freeze up, just steal a trick from that horrible kiddie beauty pageant show you can't stop watching. It's not too late for you to get a spray tan.”

“Glitz pageants are serious business, Evie,” she sniffed, her voice finally taking on its usual imperious cast. “I will have you know . . . oh. You're making fun of me, aren't you?”

“A little bit.” I gave her a push. “Now get up there. I think this is your cue . . .”

“And here she is!” bellowed Shasta. “Our honored guest and ribbon cutter for the Small Business Crawl: Aveda Jupiter!”

Aveda glided up to the store entrance, waving to the crowd with both hands. They ate it up, camera-phones flashing as they took in the glitter of her costume, the brightness of her smile, the sheer scope of the hair sculpture sitting on top of her head.

Then she tripped over an uneven bit of pavement.

“Oh, shit!” I leapt forward as she stumbled, her palms nearly planting on the ground before she clumsily righted herself.

“She's okay,” Nate murmured.

“Aveda!” Shasta exclaimed, her mouth shaping itself
into a look of worry. She wasn't as good at the whole fake concern thing as Maisy was. “Are you all right?”

“I'm perfect!” Aveda flashed her dazzling smile and brushed aside a strand of hair that had escaped from her nest of braids.

“Jeez,” I said to Nate. “Now that I've actually walked in those shoes, watching her do it is way more stressful.”

“I don't know if you noticed, but I got a new sign for my shop,” Shasta said as Aveda joined her next to the store entrance.

“Lovely!” Aveda said.

“I wanted to have something extra-special for your appearance,” Shasta continued. “And we all know how much you adore borderline tacky displays of glitz.” She gave Aveda's outfit a once-over. “Well. Maybe not so borderline.”

“That I do,” Aveda said without missing a beat. “Though for the record, I would like to note that Aveda Jupiter is not keen on adding extra letters to words just for the heck of it.” She gestured to Shasta's sign. “Proper spelling is very important.”

That got a big laugh and a few “hell, yeahs” from the crowd.

“Wow,” Nate said. “That was actually kind of honest? Unrehearsed? Like something she just blurted out. She may be taking a page from your book.”

“I doubt that,” I said. “Unless she's also planning on doing something horrifically embarrassing.”

“I am fairly certain only you can pull off ‘horrifically embarrassing.'”

“From now on, I'm only going to embarrass myself in private.”

He slipped his arms around my waist from behind, pulling me against him. “I like the sound of that.”

I rolled my eyes. But I was smiling.

“Now,” said Aveda, “where is this ribbon I'm supposed to be cutting?”

“Oh, uh . . .” Shasta's eyes darted back and forth. “There's no physical ribbon.”

Aveda cocked an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“We're trying to reduce waste,” Shasta said. “So the ribbon is a metaphorical one. But before we begin, would you like to say a few words? You've been through so much lately! How are you holding up?” She gave Aveda and the crowd a big grin. I noticed there was lipstick on her teeth.

“Time for Aveda to slip in the ‘protecting San Francisco is my duty, my love, and my life' bit,” I murmured to Nate. “Remind everyone that Aveda Jupiter always holds up just fine.”

Aveda opened her mouth, then hesitated. “You know, Shasta,” she said slowly. “You're right. It has been a rather challenging couple of weeks.”

I blinked in disbelief. Was she actually admitting to something resembling weakness? In public?

Aveda looked out into the crowd, her gaze finally resting on me. “I can honestly say I couldn't have gotten through it without my incredibly patient team. Particularly my best friend, Evie Tanaka. Not to mention Rose Rorick and her hardworking demon cleanup crew. I'm lucky to have such dedicated compatriots in the ongoing fight to keep San Francisco safe.”

I couldn't help but grin back at Aveda, warmth surging through me.

“Well. That's different,” I said.

I leaned back against Nate, studying Aveda. There was definitely a surreal quality to watching her in public after embodying her. Like I was watching the sparkly glitz pageant version of myself.

But the real me was in the crowd, drinking in the warmth of the sun and Nate's arms around me.

I thought again about the whole being normal thing.

Here I was, spending a nice day with my boyfriend. I'd just given my friend a decent pep talk. And my little
sister was at home making nerdy spreadsheets instead of trying to drunkenly take over a karaoke bar.

These were all normal things. Nice, normal things.

And, you know, I could be normal without being mundane. I'd finally accepted my own supernaturalness; had embraced it, even. I could still use my fire, but for everyday-type stuff. Like lighting candles. Going camping. Heating up Hot Pockets when the microwave was broken. The possibilities were endless! The
normal
possibilities! The—

My giddy train of thought was interrupted when I caught a flash of something familiar out of the corner of my eye. I craned my neck, scanning the crowd. It was probably nothing.

But just for a moment, I was sure I'd seen Stu Singh's signature fedora.

Eh. Well. Lots of people wore fedoras. Especially in San Francisco.

“Everything okay?” Nate asked.

“Yup.” I allowed my head to drop back against his chest. “I think I'm just tired—whoa.”

My head swiveled to the other side and I broke away from him, standing on my toes, trying to see through the crowd.

This time I'd seen a flash of gold. A daisy. Just like the one Maisy had worn during our mall confrontation.

Nate frowned. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yes. Sorry. I'm going to get some water.”

I darted off before he could protest, pushing my way through the crowd, trying to spot the elusive bit of gold. That Maisy gold.

I was so intent on zoning in on any flash of yellow I could find, I nearly ran into Lucy.

“Hey!” She grabbed my shoulders, steadying me. “What's wrong?”

“I thought I saw Maisy. I know that sounds nuts,” I continued, as her eyes widened.

“Let's not discount that theory,” Lucy said. “Who knows what evil demon princesses are capable of?”

We started elbowing our way through the swarm of people. I kept almost pouncing on people with random hair adornments, some of which were not even in the flower family. After I nearly tackled a woman wearing a very un-daisy-like beret, I stopped moving and turned to Lucy.

“I think I imagined—”

“You're looking for me.”

A watery voice echoed in my ear.

I turned and my heart leapt into my throat.

It was Maisy. Cowering at the edge of the crowd, her back turned to all the Small Business Crawl attendees, so they couldn't see how . . . different she looked. Her skin was gray and flaky and her eyes were sunken and underlined with bruise-like smudges. Her mouth sat at a crooked angle, as if it had been pasted onto her face. And her arms were rotting and desiccated and topped off with evil-looking claws. A wilted daisy drooped over her ear.

“Maisy,” I whispered. I reached toward her and she winced.

“Don't do that,”
she said in her awful, inhuman voice.
“Don't say my name—”

BOOM!

Suddenly the world went black and I was falling into an endless pit of nothingness and I couldn't see anything, I couldn't see, I—

SMACK.

The world came back into focus as I landed on concrete, jarring my entire bone structure. I blinked once, twice.

I was still in front of Pussy Queen. But now I was surrounded by a bubble-like dome similar to the one that had blocked me off while the disembodied hand tried to strangle me at the mall.

A force field,
I realized.
It's another fucking force field.

Outside the bubble dome, people were milling about as if nothing had changed, as if they couldn't see us.

I looked around frantically. Nate was lying a few feet away from me, shocked but conscious. Aveda was sprawled next to him, her eyes blinking. Lucy was passed out behind me, but still breathing. Maisy—or whatever thing Maisy was now—stood in front of us, wringing her dead-looking hands.

“You shouldn't have
 
. . .”
she started.

But then there was a blinding burst of light.

And there was Shasta. She appeared next to Maisy and loomed over us. Her eyes sparked with a malevolence so pure, it knocked the wind out of me. Maisy moved to stand just behind her.

“Maisy?” I choked out, as if maybe she could explain.

“Dammit,” Shasta growled. “It's always about Maisy, isn't it? Even when it's my event. Even when I did all the work. Even when that bitch is
fucking dead
.” She shook her head in frustration and started pacing back and forth, her high heels clicking against the ground. Maisy, still silent, watched her nervously.

“God, you people are idiots,” Shasta snarled. “Especially you.”

I thought she was talking to me, but then I realized her eyes were focused on a spot to my left.

“You don't recognize me, do you?” she said, her mouth twisting into a cruel mockery of a smile. “I looked so different all those years ago. But I always knew it was you, Nathaniel.”

My stomach turned.

Nate's harsh features tensed up in shock and then slackened into a dull sort of realization.

And then he said, “Hello, Mother.”