She hated being like this. She felt sixteen years old, all over again.
“Why won’t you let us help you?”
The question wasn’t about this, the rescue from the kidnapping, the arm to get her off the floor. It was the big question.
Celia focused on the wall, which didn’t make her dizzy. “I haven’t taken a cent from you in years; I’m not going to start now.”
“If it’ll keep you from getting assaulted like this—”
“Well, I wouldn’t get assaulted like this if I weren’t your daughter, would I?
”
If she’d said that to her father, he would have lost his temper, broken a chair or punched through the wall with a glance, and stalked out of the room. Her mother, on the other hand … Suzanne’s lips pursed, and her eyes reddened like she was about to cry. Instantly Celia felt guilty, but she couldn’t take it back, and she couldn’t apologize, because it was true.
“Everything all right?” Mentis had returned. He stood, hands in the pockets of his trench coat, and looked between the two of them inquiringly. He was in his thirties, with brown hair grown slightly shaggy and a pale, searching face. The Olympiad had been active for over ten years already when he joined, as a student at the university medical school. Despite his younger age, he carried around with him this maddening, ancient air of wisdom.
Celia and her mother stared at one another. Mentis, the telepath, must have seen a frothing mass of pent-up frustrations and unspoken thoughts. They couldn’t hide from him like they could from each other.
Nevertheless, Celia said, “Fine. I’d just like to go home and sleep off this hangover.”
“Right,” Mentis said. He held out her attaché case, unopened and none the worse for wear. “I think this is yours. We found it in Baxter’s car.”
“Thanks.”
He turned to Suzanne. “We should move on. Captain and the Bullet have cleaned up the bank robberies, but two branches of the gang are still at large.”
Celia paused. “What’s happening?”
“This was more than a simple kidnapping,” Mentis said. “It was a distraction. Baxter’s people launched attacks all over the city. He wanted to see how much he could get away with while we were busy rescuing you.”
If Baxter could have held her indefinitely, moving from place to place, keeping one step ahead of the Olympiad, he might have run them ragged.
They’d taken the time to rescue her.
“Detective? Could you see that Miss West arrives home safely?” Mentis called to a young man in a suit and overcoat standing near the doorway. One of the detectives on the case, he held a notepad and pencil, jotting notes as Baxter’s men were escorted out. The cop looked at Mentis and nodded.
She suppressed a vague feeling of abandonment, that she could have died, and now Mentis and her mother were just leaving her alone. But she remembered: the city was more important. And Celia was always saying she could take care of herself, wasn’t she?
—You’ll be fine. I have faith in you.—Mentis’s smile was wry, and Celia nodded in acknowledgment.
“Thanks,” she said. “For coming after me. Tell Dad I said hi.”
Suzanne crossed her arms. “You could call once in a while.”
He could call me. “Maybe I will.” She managed a smile for her mother and a last wave at Mentis before leaving.
The cop escorted her out of the building. “I’m Detective Paulson. Mark Paulson.” Endearingly, he offered his hand, and she shook it.
“Celia West.”
“Yeah, I know.”
A few awkward, silent minutes brought them to the curb and a swarm of police cars, lights flashing a fireworks display on the street. A half-dozen men were occupied keeping reporters and news cameras behind a line of caution tape. A couple of hero groupies were there as well—the creator of a low-end gossip website dedicated to the city’s heroes, another guy holding up a big poster declaring: CAPTAIN OLYMPUS: OUR ALIEN SAVIOR. There were always a few lurking around every time something like this happened. Instinctively, Celia looked away and hunched her shoulders, trying to duck into her collar.
Paulson brought her to an unmarked sedan. They might actually get away without the reporters noticing. Opening the passenger side door, he helped her in.
While he situated himself and started the car, she said, “Paulson. Any relation to Mayor Paulson?”