Karma Girl Part 18

17.

Of the four superheroes I could have run into while snooping, Fiona aka Fiera Fine was last on my list.

Sparks shot out of her clenched fists, fists that looked like they wanted to pummel me into oblivion.

"Um, well, I was just-"

"How did you get past the security doors? And the codes?" Fiona's eyes narrowed. They glowed with a red-hot intensity.

"Well, you see-"

"Are you spying on us?" Flames licked at her fingertips. "Secretly working for Malefica?"

"Of course not!"

My eyes darted around, looking for some means of escape. I took another step back and b.u.mped into the table. I scooted around it, putting it between myself and the fiery superhero. Not that it would do any good, since it was made of solid wood.

Fiona stepped forward. "I'll get to the truth-one way or another."

"Carmen! There you are!" Henry said, entering the library. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

I had never been so grateful to see him and his polka-dot bow tie.

"I found her roaming around in here like she owned the place." Fiona crossed her arms over her chest.

Smoke rose from her body. "Evidently, she managed to get past the security doors and codes upstairs."

Henry blinked. "You did? How?"

I shrugged. "I figured it out. You know, 555 isn't the safest thing to use."

"I've been telling Sam that for years," Henry replied. "But no. The code has sentimental value, he says.

It's the only thing we can all remember, he says-"

Fiona shot him a heated look.

"So, er, what are you doing in here?" Henry asked, changing the subject.

I pointed to my boxes. "I brought my things down. I was going to start working on Malefica's ident.i.ty. I thought you guys might have some high-powered gizmos or information that might help me."

"So you thought you'd sneak down here and snoop around while no one was watching?" Fiona said, her eyes suspicious slits in her face.

I put my hands on my hips. "I tried using the intercom. n.o.body answered. I called out. n.o.body answered. I ate breakfast, and n.o.body showed up. I did everything but dial 911 to try to get somebody to answer me."

Fiona glared at me. I returned her hot stare, even though sweat dripped down the back of my neck. I wasn't going to give the other woman the satisfaction of looking away first. Not unless my eyeb.a.l.l.s started to melt.

Henry looked back and forth between the two of us. "We might have some things that you can use, Carmen. I'm not sure exactly how you go about doing what, er, you do."

"It's really pretty simple."

"Well, you two have fun," Fiona said. "Some of us have to go to work today."

She flounced out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her. The wood shuddered but remained in its frame. I winced at the big bang.

"I bet you guys go through a lot of doors around here."

"You have no idea," Henry replied. "Don't mind Fiona. She's just had a rough time of it since-"

"Since Tornado committed suicide." I finished his sentence.

KarmaGirl.

"They were engaged. They were really crazy about each other. She took his death a bit harder than the rest of us."

No wonder Fiona hated me. Even though I didn't think it was humanly possible, I felt even guiltier than before. Driving somebody's fiance to commit suicide was definitely not good for one's karma. My own turned a little darker. Soon, it would be as black as Malefica's surely was.

"So, where are Sam and Mr. Sage? I mean Striker and Chief Newman?" I shook my head. "What do I even call you guys? Henry or Hermit? I'm not familiar with superhero etiquette." I'd never had to worry about such niceties before. No superhero in his or her right mind had ever wanted to talk to me.

"Generally, when we're out on a mission or when we have our uniforms on, we call each other by our superhero names. The rest of the time, we use our real names."

"Okay, got it. So where are the others?"

"The chief is at work. He said he'd try to drop by after his s.h.i.+ft. Sam had some big business deal to tend to. He'll be holed up in his office upstairs the rest of the day."

"Oh." A wave of disappointment washed over me. I'd been looking forward to seeing him, to just being near him. I bit my lip. His absence was for the best, though. Hadn't I made a solemn vow last night to keep my distance from Sam Sloane? Here I was longing for his presence, for a mere glimpse of him.

Geez. I was a mess.

"Well, we should get started. I have some files to go through. I'm trying to track down the Triad through their Internet accounts." Henry booted up one computer after another. "So far, I'm not having much luck."

I walked to the table where I'd put my boxes. I tugged the top off one and pulled out a stack of papers.

"You could work over here at the table with me," Henry suggested. "There's plenty of room."

I stared at the empty, dust-covered chair. My stomach twisted. "No, I'm fine where I am."

A few minutes later, I was ready to throttle Sam and Chief Newman. They had made a complete mess of my carefully compiled and filed papers. Evidently, the two men had just shoved everything into the boxes without trying to keep it organized. As a result, all the papers were mixed together and out of place. I finally just dumped the contents of the two boxes on the floor, sat down in the middle of the snowy pile, and began sorting through it all. Again. Henry's staccato, gunshot-loud typing accompanied my work.

After about an hour, silence intruded on my thoughts. No more rat-a-tats sounded. Henry had quit typing. I looked up. He stared blankly at the screen. His fingers rested on top of the keyboard. He seemed totally absorbed in whatever he was looking at.

Curious, I walked across the room and peeked over Henry's shoulder. Rows and rows of numbers and letters flashed on the screen. In an instant, they were gone, replaced by even more numbers and letters.

A strange, bluish-white glow connected his hands to the keyboard. Even though the light crackled and sparked like electricity, it didn't seem to bother Henry. He didn't move a muscle, not even to blink. I stared at his chest to make sure he was still breathing. How strange. I reached out my hand- "Don't touch me," Henry said. "Or you'll get the shock of your life."

I froze.

Henry's hands lost their glow. His dark eyes cleared. He blinked several times.

"What were you doing?" I asked.

"Mind-melding with the computer. It's my power."

"Your power? I thought Hermit didn't have a power, that you just-" I bit off my words.

KarmaGirl.

Henry pushed his gla.s.ses up his nose. "That I just provided technical support to the group? That I'm just some computer geek who spends his time hiding in a black van while the others go out and fight? A lot of people think that. But I do, in fact, have a power. I can open my mind up to computers and other electronic devices and use them. It's called mind-melding. It's actually a pretty useful skill. The human brain is far more complex than any computer and operates several times faster. I can view hundreds of characters in mere seconds. I also have a photographic memory, which comes in handy when you're sorting through billions of bytes of information."

"I see." I fell silent for a moment. "How did you get it? Your power? Were you born with it? Or did something happen to you to cause it?"

"No." Henry stared at his flickering computer screen. The light made the white dots on his bow tie gleam. "When I was a kid, I spent most of my time in my room, playing fantasy games on my computer, trying to hack into the FBI directory, your usual crazy kids' stuff."

I blinked. I'd done my share of stupid stuff as a kid, but I couldn't ever remember trying to hack into the FBI mainframe. Drink a few wine coolers, sure. Break into a secure government network, not so much.

Henry continued with his story. "I didn't have many friends, except for a few people I'd met online, and those didn't really count. Anyway, one night when I was sixteen, there was this huge electrical storm.

The rain was coming down so hard you couldn't see two feet in front of your face. It was one of the worst storms we'd ever had, before or since. It flooded most of the city and knocked out the power for days. Despite all this, I was on my computer in the middle of the storm, since we still had electricity. My mom told me to turn it off, but I wanted to finish this game.

"Lightning hit the power line outside. Thousands and thousands of volts of electricity surged inside the house right into my computer. But it didn't stop there. The body is a wonderful conductor of electricity, you know. The current ran up my fingers and throughout the rest of my body."

"Did it hurt?" I could see it in my head. Henry typing away, when suddenly . . . BAM!

"Not really. I blacked out after the first few seconds. When I came to, it was almost like something had snapped open inside my head, like a light had been turned on. I could see things I hadn't been able to before. I could reach out to the computer and make it do anything I wanted."

"How did you get involved with the Fearless Five?"

"Mr. Sage sensed me. He's always on the lookout for spikes in psychic energy. He felt my . . .

transformation. At first, I didn't understand what had happened, and I got terrible headaches. Mr. Sage found me. He taught me how to control my power, how to use it to benefit others. Mr. Sage and the rest of the group needed somebody who understood computers and could do what I could. So, I joined the group, and the rest is history."

"Do you ever regret it? Having powers, I mean? Not being . . . ordinary?"

"Sometimes. I like helping people, I really do, but being a superhero is a full-time job. And it's an awesome responsibility. There's always somebody who needs help or wants to rule the world.

Sometimes, I wish I could be just like everybody else. Plus, mind-melding can give you one killer headache, particularly if you run into a virus or some nasty security firewall on the Internet." Henry took off his gla.s.ses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

His story awed and humbled me. I couldn't imagine being a teenager who suddenly developed this fantastical power. I wouldn't have been able to handle it. Yet Henry had become a good, kind man despite having this power thrust upon him. He truly was amazing.

"Well, from everything I've seen and read, you do a great job, Hermit," I said. "I'm sure everyone is KarmaGirl.

grateful that you do what you do. I know I am."

Henry smiled.

I grinned back. "Now, if you feel up to it, why don't we use that power of yours to track down an ubervillain?"

"I'm always up for that." Henry slid his gla.s.ses back on his face. "Let's go get her."

We spent the next two hours going through files and reviewing all the information we'd gathered on Malefica and the rest of the Terrible Triad. The answer to Malefica's real ident.i.ty was hidden somewhere among my papers. I could feel it. I just didn't know where to look. Yet.

Henry left to go to work at The Expose, but I stayed in the library. By the time I finished reorganizing my papers, it was close to six. I stretched my arms up over my head. My bones snapped and popped in a pleasant way. My stomach rumbled. Time for dinner. Malefica would have to wait until tomorrow.

I turned off the light and left the library. I walked back down the hallways, rode the elevator up to the wine cellar, and made my way to the kitchen. It was deserted, just like this morning. This time, I didn't hesitate. After all my hard work, I was in the mood for a little comfort-Southern style. I gathered up the necessary ingredients for a bona fide Southern feast. Soon, chicken sizzled in a hot skillet, while biscuits baked in the oven. Peach tea chilled in the refrigerator.

"Something smells good."

I shrieked at the sound of Sam's deep voice. A spatula slipped from my fingers.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" I clutched a hand over my racing heart.

"It's one of my many talents," he replied.

I glared at him. Or at least I tried to. He leaned against the side of the refrigerator. A navy blue business suit hugged his body to perfection and brought out his brilliant eyes. He looked good. Too good. I turned back to the stove so he wouldn't notice the flush in my cheeks. It was a good thing he couldn't read minds, because mine was once more full of l.u.s.tful thoughts.

Sam walked over and snitched a piece of chicken from the pan.

"Stop that. It's not ready." I swiped at him, but he easily ducked out of the way. Stupid superhuman reflexes.

"Mmmm. Tastes ready to me. Where did you learn to cook like that?"

I sniffed. "I, sir, am a Southerner. And every Southerner, no matter the gender, learns at a very young age to make three essential things-fried chicken, b.u.t.termilk biscuits, and iced tea. All of which I have prepared tonight and will soon be dining on."

"Care if I join you?"

I looked into his eyes. They were the most unusual color, and varied with his mood, from dark, gunmetal gray when he was angry or upset to light silver when he was calm and relaxed, like now. I realized I was alone with Sam aka Striker Sloane, the one person I should be avoiding at all costs, other than Malefica.

I thought back to that night in my apartment and how it had all started in my kitchen.

I dropped my gaze to the crispy chicken. "Um, well, I'm not sure I made enough for two people."

"Don't worry. I don't eat nearly as much as Fiona does."

I laughed. Despite my earlier vow, I wanted to have dinner with Sam. Wanted to know the man behind the mask. So, I did something I shouldn't have.

"I'd love to have some company," I said.

We settled ourselves at the island in the middle of the kitchen. Sam loosened his silk tie, while I filled our plates.

KarmaGirl.

"Mmm-mmm. I think I'm in heaven." Sam rolled his eyes for emphasis and took another bite of his b.u.t.tered biscuit.

I laughed again. "I wouldn't go that far, but it certainly beats flat champagne and moldy cheese."