But even more than that, I was worried about Kyle. I loved him, and I didn’t want him to get hurt. The Fearless Five might be putting the word out about Frost stealing superpowers, but I wanted to warn Kyle too.
My hand hovered over my phone. It would be easy for me to pick up the phone and call him. I’d long ago memorized the number to Quicke’s, since I dialed it at least once a day to get food delivered for Fiona.
But seeing Kyle last night…him saving me from that falling spotlight…talking to him on the street…and then watching Blue die…knowing that I couldn’t save my friend…
It had all reminded me that life was short—too short not to be with the people you cared about—and it had renewed my determination to win him back. It was silly, the reason we’d broken up, and we’d already been apart for far too long. It was time to convince Kyle that I loved him for him, and not because he was a superhero. It was time for us to get back together—for good.
So I leaned to the side of my desk and looked down at Rascal. “Hey, boy. You want to go for a walk?”
The puppy barked and bounded up off his pillow. I grinned. That was definitely a yes.
* * *
I clipped Rascal’s leash to his collar again, stuck my head in Fiona’s office, and told her that I was heading over to Quicke’s for an early lunch. She waved her hand, distracted by the doodles on her sketch pad. I wondered if she might include some ice-blue in her next collection after all. No doubt she would combine it with some weird combinations that totally worked, like pink feathers, silver sequins, and black crystals.
I grabbed my purse, coat, and gloves and headed outside. I didn’t think it was possible, but the temperature had dropped during the short time I’d been in the office, and it was even colder outside than before. The weather made me think of Frost, which sent another chill racing down my spine.
I fell into the flow of foot traffic on the sidewalks and hurried over to Quicke’s. The sight of the neon-blue sign flashing above the revolving door always brought a smile to my face. I pushed through the door, stopped inside the entrance, and breathed in. I might not have Abby’s supersense of smell, but the delicious aromas of fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and fresh bread permeated the entire restaurant. My stomach growled. Fiona wasn’t the only one who could use some food. I’d skipped breakfast to swing by Bryn’s Bakery, and I hadn’t had the chance to swipe a doughnut or bagel for myself before Fiona had inhaled them all.
Ray, the head waiter, was working the seating station, and he led me over to the best table in the restaurant, one that fronted the windows. I told him to go ahead and deliver my usual order to Fiona’s office. If things went the way I wanted them to with Kyle, then I wouldn’t be going back to work today. Ray moved off to take my order to the kitchen, and I leaned back in my seat and stared out over the restaurant.
Quicke’s was known for its great food, hearty portions, and affordable prices, but it was most famous for being a shrine to all things superhero and ubervillain. The Fearless Five, the Terrible Triad, Johnny Angel, Debonair, the Mintilator, Siren, and Intelligal. Framed posters, photos, and newspaper clippings of heroes and villains covered the restaurant’s brick walls, while toys, miniature cars, action figures, and more decorated the mirrored shelves running behind the long, brass-railed bar.
Even though I came in here several times a week, I never got tired of looking at all the photos and memorabilia. Kyle and I used to spend hours browsing through antique and other shops all over Bigtime, looking for even more knickknacks to add to the restaurant. Those trips and all the fun we’d had on them were yet another thing that I missed about him.
A poster of Talon loomed on the wall above my head, causing Rascal to bark and wag his tail.
“Sorry, boy,” I said. “Talon will be back in a few days.”
Rascal whined his disappointment and put his head down onto his paws. But I rubbed his ears, which made him raise his head right back up in happiness. Even though petting him made my allergies kick into high gear, I sneezed and kept right on rubbing the puppy’s ears.
In addition to the photos and memorabilia, the other thing that Quicke’s had going for it was the fact that it was considered neutral territory, one of the few places in the city where heroes and villains could hang out without fear of reprisals from one another or even the police. Even though it was still a little early for lunch, more than one spandex-clad person was already inside the restaurant. Halitosis Hal and Pistol Pete, the heroes who were best friends, were chowing down on some spaghetti and meatballs at a nearby table, while Gentleman George was perched on a barstool, dabbing at some stain he’d gotten on his peach ascot. A couple of other seats at the bar were empty, although two glasses clinked together in mid-air before slowly tipping back and the liquid inside them disappearing. The Invisible Ingénues were staked out there.
And Wynter was here too, sitting at the far end of the bar, sipping a fizzy blue soda and noshing on a plate of mozzarella sticks. Rascal was snoozing on the floor, so I got up from my chair and walked over to her.
“We meet again,” I said.
Wynter looked at me. “Hey, Pip— Oh, er, you.”
Once again, she was pretending like she didn’t know who I was, but I decided to roll with it.
“I need to talk to you about something.”
“What?”
I drew in a breath and told her everything that had happened with Blue last night, including his warning about wings and snowflakes, and what Fiona had told me about the fabric scrap probably belonging to Frost.
When I finished, Wynter frowned at me the same way Fiona had earlier. “So you think that Frost is back in town and stealing powers from other heroes and villains before he kills them? And that I’m next on his hit list?”
I shrugged. “I know there are a lot of folks who use snowflakes as symbols, but you’re one of the strongest.”
She patted her blond hair, preening a little at my compliment.
“Anyway, I wanted to come over and warn you,” I said. “Just in case you were out at Oodles o’ Stuff, working late tonight.”
Wynter gave me a suspicious look. “Oodles o’ Stuff, huh?”
Instead of saying that it was where Sabrina St. John, her real self, worked, I just shrugged again.
She polished off her last mozzarella stick and the rest of her soda. “Thanks, Pip— Oh, er, you. I’ll take it under advisement.”
Wynter gave me one more suspicious look, then paid her bill and left the restaurant.
I stepped into the bathroom, washed my hands, and made it back over to my table just in time for Ray to set my food down in front of me. Given the cold, dreary day, I’d wanted some warm, hearty comfort food, and Quicke’s always delivered on that. I leaned over my plate, breathing in the succulent smells rising up from the chili I’d ordered, along with cornbread and a large baked potato stuffed with sharp cheddar cheese, sour cream, crispy bacon, and sliced green onions.
I dug into my food, which tasted even better than it smelled. The chili was a terrific mix of spicy meat, hearty beans, and rich broth, while the cornbread was crusty on the outside and light and fluffy on the inside. And the melting cheese and other fixings were the perfect toppers for the baked potato.
I washed it all down with a glass of sweet iced tea while I scanned the restaurant, looking for Kyle. But he wasn’t working the seating station like usual, and I didn’t spot him at the bar or moving through the restaurant, taking orders and waiting on tables. I finished my food, and when Ray came back with my check, I asked him where Kyle was.
Ray jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s been in the kitchen, cooking, all morning long.”
I frowned. Kyle enjoyed cooking, but what he loved most was being out front, right in the middle of the action, and interacting with all the folks who came to Quicke’s in search of a good meal. He only stayed in the kitchen and threw himself into cooking if he was upset about something. And I was willing to bet that something was
me, given how we’d left things last night.
Ray had long ago memorized the numbers on my Fiona Fine Fashions corporate credit card, so I signed the slip he gave me and added a generous tip for him. Then I grabbed Rascal’s leash, crossed the storefront, pushed through the swinging double doors, and stepped into the back of the restaurant.
In many ways, Quicke’s kitchen was just like the front of the restaurant, in that hero and villain posters and photos were plastered all over the walls. Stickers shaped like various hero and villain logos covered many of the stainless-steel appliances, and still more logos and symbols could be found on everything from the dish towels to the staff’s aprons to the chefs’ hats.
Kyle was standing in front of a series of stoves set in the middle of the kitchen, cooking, stirring, and flipping food from one hot pan and plate to another. There were plenty of other folks back here, including three other cooks and several waiters, but Kyle was the one doing the majority of the work, moving from one station to the other and back again almost too fast to follow. Everyone else was focused on what they were doing, or they would have noticed their boss’s quick movements. Or maybe they were just so used to seeing him move so fast that it simply didn’t register with them anymore how swift he actually was.
For a moment, I stood by the double doors and just watched him, admiring his smooth, efficient movements as he grilled a burger, then heaped lasagna onto a plate, then topped off a chocolate pie with whipped cream and dark chocolate sauce. Memories of him doing all those things and more flashed through my mind, and my lips curved into a soft smile. I had spent many a late night back here, sipping a glass of wine while Kyle cooked us both dinner and we told each other about our days. That companionship, that closeness, was something else that I missed about him, and something else that I was determined to get back.
Kyle must have sensed my gaze because he looked up and froze, a metal pan dangling from his hand at a sharp angle and the chocolate pie inside threatening to slide right out of the dish and plop onto the floor. But Kyle realized that he was in danger of losing the pie. From one blink to the next, he straightened the pan in his hand, drizzled a bit more chocolate sauce over the pie, and handed the whole thing off to one of his waiters.
Kyle wiped his hands on a towel, then left the stoves behind and came over to me.
“Piper?” he asked. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
Even though we’d been apart these past few months, he still knew me better than almost anyone else.
“We need to talk.” I lowered my voice. “About your other job.”
Kyle grimaced at my not-so-subtle words, but whatever he saw in my face must have convinced him that it was important.
“Okay,” he said. “I have an appointment that I need to get to anyway. Let’s take a walk. Guys, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
The cooks and waiters all nodded at him. Kyle nodded back, then walked through the kitchen, grabbed a black duffel bag out of a locker along the wall, and went out the back of the restaurant.
I tightened my grip on Rascal’s leash and followed him, wondering if this would be the most important conversation of our entire relationship.
Chapter Seven
Kyle stepped out into the alley. I followed him, with Rascal trotting along beside me, and he shut the door behind us.
The cold blasted over my face, feeling especially brutal after the intense heat of the kitchen. I shivered and turned up the collar of my coat, but Kyle stuck his hands in his pants pockets, despite the fact that he was only wearing sneakers, jeans, and a T-shirt patterned with Swifte’s wings logo that I’d given him for his birthday, back before we’d broken up. The weather never seemed to bother him. Sometimes, I thought that he could simply outrun the cold if he really wanted to.
Kyle and I stood there for a minute¸ not quite looking at each other. Finally, he raised his gaze to mine and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“I really do have an appointment to get to at Paradise Park,” he said, giving me a crooked smile. “Abby booked me for one of her hero meet-and-greet events. She’ll kill me if I don’t show up on time. So if you don’t mind…”
He gestured at the duffel bag hanging off his shoulder.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Kyle nodded. He looked up and down the alley to make sure we were alone. Then—
WHOOSH!
A gust of wind blasted over me, tangling my hair and fluffing out Rascal’s fur, making the puppy bark in surprise.
One second, Kyle Quicke was standing in front of me in jeans and a T-shirt. I blinked, and Swifte was there, shimmering in his white costume. My gaze traced over his body. Kyle was tall and lean, but he had plenty of muscles in all the right places, and he filled out that spandex very, very well.
Heat rippled through my body as I remembered his kiss, his touch, and all the ways he’d made me melt in the dark when we were together. Something else I’d missed about him. Kyle might be the fastest man in Bigtime, but there were certain instances where he always took his time—
“Piper?” Kyle asked. “Are you getting sick? Your cheeks are really red all of a sudden.”
My hands darted up to my face. “It must be the cold.” I cleared my throat. “Can I walk you over to the park? We can talk on the way. If that’s okay with you?”
He nodded, hid his duffel bag behind one of the trash cans, and headed out to the main street. I fell in step beside him, with Rascal trotting along at my heels. The three of us slowly ambled over to Paradise Park, which was only a few blocks from the restaurant. Many folks eyed Kyle, since he was wearing his superhero suit, but no one stopped to take his picture or ask him for an autograph. They didn’t think he was really Swifte, since he wasn’t racing around town.
I opened and closed my mouth half a dozen times, trying to figure out where to begin. But every time I gathered up my courage to start talking, I mashed my lips together again.
Come on, Piper! I chided myself. Kyle could zoom away at any second, and I needed to tell him what was going on. I owed it to him, and especially to Blue. So I opened my mouth and forced out the words.
“Have you always had your powers? Why did you become a superhero? What do you love about it?”
The questions tumbled from my lips one after another. I winced. That wasn’t what I had intended to say—not at all—but those were some of the many questions that had been running through my mind ever since I’d found out that Kyle was also Swifte. Maybe it was my inner superfan, but I wanted to know absolutely everything about Kyle and Swifte.
Startled, Kyle looked at me, not sure what to make of the sudden deluge.
My cheeks burned again, but there was no taking it back, so I forced myself to keep on talking. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for all that to come out quite that way. I just want to know why you do…the things you do. Please.”
A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “I suppose you deserve that, after everything that’s happened.”
We stopped at the corner and waited for the walk sign to light up. Kyle drew in a deep breath, as if he enjoyed the scent of car exhaust mixed with the jumbo pretzels that the food truck at the curb was selling. Rascal was only interested in the pretzels, his small black nose quivering as he stared at the display case full of the salty treats.
The light changed to walk, but Kyle stood still, as if he were drinking in the ebb and flow of all the people moving around us, along with the honk-honk of car horns and jangle-jangle of bicycles zipping down the sidewalks.
“This,” he finally said, holding his hands out wide. “This city, these people, all the sights and sounds and smells and pure energy. It’s like a bigger version of the restaurant, and I love it. I love being right in the middle of things. I love helping people, talking to them…”
“And posing for photos?” I added in a dry tone.
Kyle laughed, his face lighter and happier than I’d seen in a long time. “Esp
ecially posing for photos. I was always the class clown in school, the guy who loved being the center of attention. Being a superhero seemed like a natural outlet for all that energy.”
“Well, that certainly explains all the opalescent white,” I said, falling into the old familiar rhythm of teasing him. “There’s no missing you in that costume.”
He laughed again, and I found myself smiling in return. I’d missed making him laugh and hearing his warm, hearty chuckles.
I gently led Rascal away from the pretzel cart. The three of us walked over to the next street, and I peppered him with more questions.
“What about your speed power? Have you always had it? What was the one thing that made you decide to be a hero?”
Kyle shrugged. “I’ve always had my power, ever since I can remember. I was just born with it. As for what made me actually decide to suit up and become a hero, it was a villain named Bustling Blue.”
My heart squeezed tight, and I stumbled forward, almost stepping on Rascal, who let out a sharp, reproachful bark. Kyle slid up next to me and took hold of my elbow, his movements almost too fast for me to follow.
“Are you okay?” he asked, helping me to steady myself.
I forced myself to smile and move away from him. “Just a little clumsy. That’s all.”
Kyle looked at me another moment, making sure that I was okay, then we started walking again.
“So have you heard of him?” Kyle asked. “Bustling Blue? He has a speed power, like me. If anyone would know about him, it would be you, Piper.”
“Yeah,” I said in a faint voice. “I’ve heard of him.”
I had met Blue after we had broken up, so Kyle had no idea that I knew the former villain. He must not have seen the news about Blue’s murder yet. Otherwise, his tone would have been much, much different.