Not Your Villain (Sidekick Squad #2)(22)
In the end, Jess goes by herself. The afternoon passes in an uneventful blur for Bells. He waves goodbye to his dad and the staff when his shift is over and he takes the long way home as the sun sets over the glimmering solar fields outside Andover.
When he arrives home, the house is quiet—a bit too quiet, but that’s easily fixed with some background noise. Bells gets caught up in flicking through reruns of The Gentleman Detective, but eventually he gets to his homework. He’s finishing up his English assignment when the house security programming notifies him two people are at the door: Jess and someone else. Bells goes downstairs immediately. He opens the door and freezes.
Jess is standing there with Abby, who is wearing a mecha-suit. It looks haphazardly made, with metal pieces in different colors, and Bells spots what looks like pieces from a stove. It should look ridiculous, but the design looks very capable, like the armor engineers wear to build new structures in the Unmaintained zones or the mecha-suit Master Mischief used to fly.
“Hey, Bells,” Jess says, way too casually for this situation. “Um… do you have superpowers?”
Ch. 4...
Bells’ mouth falls open, and then he quickly shuts it and reacts on instinct. “Me? Superpowers? No, why would you ask that? I totally don’t.”
He takes a step back, glancing at Jess for an explanation, and then back at Abby. Jess’ hair is sticking out in all directions. Windswept, Bells’ mind supplies, as if they were flying.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Abby says, and then just levitates, right on his porch. She’s lucky the Broussard home is hidden.
Bells is about to pull them both inside when she demonstrates even more powers, completely altering the solartech porch light. The metal and wires and circuits reassemble themselves, folding around the glass and reforming into a flower, and Bells… Bells has never seen anything like this. His brain is still trying to process the sheer power of it.
“I’m a meta-human,” Abby says.
No kidding.
Abby glances at Jess and then back at Bells. “I’m thinking there are three of us here standing here. Am I right?”
“Three?” Bells repeats.
Jess looks at him, fidgeting. “We should talk somewhere private.”
Bells leads them to his bedroom. Abby’s suit clanks with each step, and Bells shakes his head in disbelief. He’s in shock, but a huge part of him is excited to share his secret.
There’s an official Heroes’ League of Heroes Guide holobook still projected over Bells’ desk: a detail he should be scrambling to put away before his friends enter the room, but today is different. Bells watches Jess’ eyes flit to the book and take in all the files Bells left open.
What is she going to think about him being Chameleon all this time?
Bells can feel his hair changing, and a quick glance in the mirror confirms the slight shift from green to turquoise. He hasn’t lost his concentration like this in years. It’s the shock, he tells himself. Just take a deep breath and get that control back.
There isn’t any point in denying his powers now, and Bells doesn’t want to. He takes a deep breath, then exhales. “I’ve been altering myself ever since I learned how. It’s just a part of who I am.”
Jess embraces him without saying anything. Relief floods through Bells; she understands. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off his chest.
At first, talking to Jess and Abby about being Chameleon and his hero work these past few months is fun, and he gets to joke about rescuing the cats. He learns that Abby secretly designs MonRobots for her dad, Phillip Monroe, and Bells is really impressed because he loves those robots. Even learning that Jess’ parents are Smasher and Shockwave is incredibly thrilling, and discovering that Abby’s parents are the Mischiefs is totally surprising, but then the conversation takes a wild turn.
“The League is kidnapping villains,” Abby says slowly, watching for his response. “Captain Orion kidnapped my parents.”
“Wait, what?” Bells frowns.
Something at the back of his mind clicks in place. Tree Frog. Plasmaman. The Mischiefs. But they just were all captured, right? That’s why they haven’t been in the news lately.
“Captain Orion wouldn’t do that. Captain Orion does what’s best for the North American Collective,” Bells says, shaking his head.
Jess syncs a DED to Bells’ desktop projector and files project into the air: dozens of missing people reports; the press focus on the hero-villain drama and not the overseas conflicts; the strange files on the DED itself, only on meta-humans classified as villains.
The longer they talk, the more things fall into place: the film crews, the way the League was so adamant about Bells’ “combat missions.” The more he tries to explain it the way the League did—being more creative and developing his combat skills in battle—the more what Jess and Abby are saying makes sense.
Okay. The battles are staged. The League and the Collective are lying to the public and there’s shady deals happening in Constavia but that doesn’t mean Captain Orion is evil.
“Captain Orion—” Bells starts, still trying to exonerate his hero.
“Held us captive,” Abby says.
And then Jess shows him the scar on her neck. It’s raw and angry-looking against Jess’ brown skin; it’s a network of pink tendrils tracing down her neck and disappearing under her shirt.