Robbie’s arms uncrossed, his gaze narrowed. “I wouldn’t make that bet if I were you.”
“I mean it! I’ll drop her!”
Mouth clenched closed, she stared up at a stark, washed-out sky. Please, please, please—
The Bullet disappeared.
Another wind came out of nowhere and smacked into her gut, knocking the breath from her. It heaved her in another direction, snatching her from the stranger’s grip and dragging her back to the roof.
When she opened her eyes, she was standing on solid roof and leaning against Robbie, whose arm held her around her middle. The Bullet had run so fast, he’d dashed into the air itself, using his own special talent to fly, grabbed her, and carried her to safety. Her lungs heaved, trying to catch a breath.
“You okay, kid?” he whispered.
She could only nod. When he let her go, she managed to stay standing, for which she was grateful.
He turned to the stranger, who backed away a couple of steps. “You want to talk about this now? What made you think that dangling his daughter off the roof would convince the Captain to trust you enough to bring you onto the team?”
The Bullet was being far nicer than Celia would have been.
The stranger shook his head, still backing away, glancing over his shoulder to judge his distance from the edge, which didn’t add anything to his impressiveness. “I had to make them—you—listen!”
Robbie stepped toward him, hastening the other’s retreat. “I’m listening now. So, you have any other talents besides summoning winds and kidnapping girls? Come on, I’m listening.”
He sputtered for a moment, like he wanted to say something. Then, he jumped. He’d reached the edge, and rather than stay put, he threw himself over it. A wind picked him up and carried him off. He flew away, his body stretched out flat and streamlined.
“We’re going to have to keep track of that one,” Robbie said, hands on hips. He looked at Celia. “You really okay?”
She’d found her breath and voice by then. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for the save.”
“No problem. You should come inside, get warmed up. You look like you could use a drink.”
“Only if it’s bourbon.”
“I was thinking hot cocoa.”
“I think I just want to go home.”
He hesitated, and she braced, because it probably meant an argument. When she said home, he was probably thinking of something different than she was.
“You haven’t been back here in months.” Actually, it was years. “Your folks should be getting back any minute now, and I’ll never hear the end of it if I let you leave without seeing them.”
“I’d prefer it if they didn’t know I was here at all.”
He gestured with a thumb over his shoulders. “Security cameras. I can’t hide the footage.” Uncle Robbie, always siding with her parents.
“Robbie, please. I need to get back to campus.” She started toward the roof door.
“How are you going to get back at this hour?”
“The late bus.”
“Celia!” That pleading tone in the voice always stopped her, even now. “I guess I don’t understand it. You were born with all this.” He gestured to encompass the West Plaza building. “You could have had the best of everything. How many people would kill to have all this? And you just throw it all away?”
Robbie had come from the east side, the not-so-great part of town, the son of a machinist and a hairdresser. He hadn’t gone to the Elmwood Academy like Warren and Suzanne had. Instead, he’d graduated from P.S. 12. He’d have gone to college on a track scholarship—if he hadn’t been kicked out of the sport for cheating because of his powers. Then he’d met Captain Olympus and Spark, and found another outlet.
“You ever get tired of it?” she asked. “Being on Dad’s payroll for doing stuff like this? Keeping up the vigilante gig? You ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t joined the Olympiad? Just gone on, gotten a normal job, had a normal life?”
“Normal isn’t an option for folks like me. We are what we are.”