Evangeline left her house around 7:30 on Monday evening. She told her dad that she had switched shifts in order to have the whole weekend off for the school play. That was true enough, though she didn’t mention that the shift she picked up was on Wednesday night. Instead of turning west toward the Allegheny Grill, she continued south into Squirrel Hill toward her true destination: another Teen Talent Coalition meeting.
She’d first gone to TTC back when they lived in Salt Lake City, though it was never a regular thing. Even though the meetings were boring and, honestly, a little bit of a pity party, it was a welcome release from the pressure cooker of her home life. However awkward and mopey the other kids were, at least they didn’t treat her like a pariah. She’d only begun attending the Squirrel Hill gathering a few weeks ago, but it already seemed to be a step up from the crowd in Deseret. There were even a few moments of excitement, like last week when the backwoods kid with the goggles started arguing about vigilantism. It was too much to hope for a repeat of that, but even if all they talked about was why the creepy telepath should stop eavesdropping on his ex-girlfriend, she preferred it to her dad’s relentless criticism.
Although sunset was the better part of an hour away, the blanket of dark gray storm clouds that swaddled the city admitted little distinction between night and day. The light-sensing street lamps that had switched on Sunday evening had never gone off in the morning. Heavy rain fell throughout the day, and although it had let up, the sidewalks were covered in puddles. The damp air and lack of sunshine made it chilly, but Eva, dressed only in a mid-calf-length skirt, a thin blouse, and a light jacket, wasn’t shivering. Glimpsed from a distance, her outline seemed to shimmer.
She stopped under a streetlight and checked her watch, wondering how late she’d be. Then she heard something. There was a man behind her, obscured in shadow, approaching at a brisk pace. Only a hasty misstep caused him to scrape his foot and alert her of his presence.
Now Eva shivered. There was something about his quick, purposeful movements that made her uneasy. She told herself that this was a public street, that there were bound to be other people on it. She tried to ignore him and continued walking. Just in case, she moved a bit faster.
But the pursuer picked up his pace in response; she heard the rapid splash of his boots in the puddles. She looked back again, her pupils widening in alarm as she realized that he was only a half-block behind her and closing fast. Evangeline looked around for any sign of help, but she didn’t know the neighborhood, and there was no one outside. It was too miserable of a day for anyone to sit out on the porch. Evangeline turned the corner, heading off course for the safety of a more populated, more brightly-lit front street.
‘Silly. It’s just a jogger,’ Eva chastised herself. She held her breath so that she would hear his footsteps trail off as he passed the corner and moved away from her.
When he rounded the corner instead, Eva ran, and he ran after her. It became clear very quickly that he was going to catch up with her long before she got to that well-lit, well-traveled front street. She started to panic, and ghosts of steam rose now, not just from her breath, but from her head and every bit of exposed skin on her body. She tossed her binder away and tried to unsling and unzipper her backpack while she ran, but her toes caught on an uneven slab of sidewalk and she tumbled forward, screaming. Her hand flashed out in an instinctive reaction, grabbing hold of a tree branch. Her momentum and anchor on the tree spun her around, face-to-mask with her pursuer.
“STOP!” she screamed, close enough to his face for flecks of spit to stick to the lenses of his blue goggles. “I have pepper spray!”
He did stop, and he stamped a boot down on some of her loose papers to keep them from blowing away. He stooped to pick up her binder, but kept his eyes trained on her. There was an archness in his voice as he spoke to her.
“You’ve got a lot better than pepper spray, I wager.”
“I-I do! I do! What do you want? Stay away from me!” She was still screaming. The stranger held out his hand in a gesture of calm.
“I’m not going to hurt you, baby. I’m your hero. I’m rescuing you.”
The declaration made her skin crawl. “What? Rescuing me from what?” she squeaked, backing away.
Torrent cleared his throat and slipped into his Kanawha mountain twang. “From another night spent with the spoon-benders at TTC.”
Her eyes bolted open. Now she recognized the voice, the language. “You! You were at the meeting the other night, the kid in the goggles!”
He bowed slightly. “Call me Torrent. And what do I call you?”
“What do you want?”
Torrent shrugged and took a step closer. Evangeline gulped at how much bigger he was. “I told you, I’m rescuing you. I mean, that is where you were going, right? To the TTC meeting?”
“No! I’m going home. I live half a block away, m-my dad is–”
His snickering interrupted her. “Aw, c’mon! I know where you live.”
“Oh God!” Evangeline gasped. It was a call for help, not a blasphemy.
“What? Honestly, I’m not going to hurt you,” Torrent insisted. He held out his gloved hand to her. “Come with me, and I promise you’ll like it a lot better than Teen Talent Coalition.”
Evangeline slapped his hand away and jumped back. Wisps of steam coiled up from her shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you sick fucking stalker creep!”
“Wow. You’re starting to hurt my feelings, Evangeline.”
“Oh God! H-how did you… Get AWAY from me!”
“Take it easy! I’m not coming any closer, am I?”
“What do you want?”
Torrent sighed. “I told you, I’m rescuing… Look, you’re ‘TheUnprisonedFlame’ on Metafriends. You’re a pyro. Judging by that gorgeous red hair, the hot temper, and the way you’re fogging up my goggles, I’m guessing you’re a pretty strong one, too. Am I right?”
“Oh God!”
“Stop saying that.”
Evangeline stiffened, bared her teeth a little as she glared at him. “That’s right. I am a pyro, a dangerous one. You think I’m intimidated by a stalker? Well, I’m not!”
“Cripes, I wasn’t trying to intimidate you! You’re supposed to be impressed by my detective skills.”
“I’m not impressed by anything about you, Torrent!”
Torrent winced. “One or both of us is going to feel really awkward when this is all over. I wanted to invite you to my own group for talents. The best kind, in fact—”
“I don’t give a damn about your group! I would never join any group that would let you in, you freak! Leave me alone and never come near me or my house again!” She had emptied her lungs in that outburst, and she sucked them full of air again before she darted off in the other direction.
Torrent didn’t run after her, but just stood there, shouting at her back. “Wait! Don’t you want your binder?” His voice had changed. He didn’t sound cocky now. He sounded humiliated.
Maybe that change was what made Evangeline stop running. Against her better judgment, she half-turned and looked at him. She bit her lip in indecision. She wanted her property back, but saw no way of getting it without getting close to him.
As if he’d read her mind, he crouched and laid the binder on the grassy mound beneath the tree. “I’ll leave it here and walk away,” he said. “But, por favor, Evangeline, don’t keep walking that way. It’s a rough neighborhood.”
Torrent stood up and left just as he promised. When he got about half a block away, Evangeline cautiously made her way toward the binder. The successful standoff filled her with new courage and determination and, as she tucked the binder into her pack, she called out to him. “Hold on. How did you find out my name? And where I live?”
Torrent stopped and slowly turned around. “You told me.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. I didn’t even speak to you at the meeting!”
“Nah, it was a couple of weeks before that,” he said.
Evangeline straightened. “Who are you?”
Torrent pointed to his mask. “I can’t tell you that, now can I? Not if you don’t want to join our group.” Then he started walking away again.
“You… you’re from CYO. Or… the Allegheny Grill, or…” Her voice trailed off, becoming softer as the realization crept up on her. “Sebastian!” she shouted before immediately clamping both hands over her mouth. “Wait! I didn’t know! Wait!” She started running after him, and eventually he stopped and turned around to face her, his arms folded across his chest.
“Lower your voice please,” he hissed.
Evangeline whipped her backpack against his shoulder. “You scared the crap out of me! Why would you do that? Why?”
“I don’t know, I thought it would be romantic. I didn’t expect you to flip out.”
“How could I not? Look at the way you’re dressed! I didn’t know if you were going to try to–”
“To?”
“To… take liberties with me!”
He let out a cocky laugh. “I’ve already done that.”
“You’re such a jerk! I can’t believe you would do this to me!”
“Come on, Eva! You overreacted. I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me!”
She blew her long hair in a mixture of exasperation and relief. Her words came calmer and more slowly now. “I don’t know why. I was too scared to think straight. I thought you were a mugger or a rapist.”
“See?” he interrupted. “I told you. Awkward.”
“What are you thinking? What is this all about?” she asked, pinching his sweatshirt.
“It’s my superhero outfit. My name is Torrent, Eva. I fight crime, and I thought we might fight crime together.”
Evangeline felt like she was going to swoon. “Oh God! The black eyes, the fights… this is what you were doing! You’re crazy!”
“You didn’t think it was crazy at the TTC meeting,” he said, poking her in the chest. “You stuck up for me.”
“I didn’t know you were you!”
“You think I can’t hack it? Well I’ve been doing it, Eva.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s just… I don’t know what to say. Wait, wait, wait… Torrent?” Her eyes widened in startled recognition. “You were on the news! The stolen car ring in Oakland! That was you?”
A decidedly smug expression crossed his face. “So, you did hear about that.”
“Are you a talent?”
“Twice over. Psychometry and hydrokinesis.”
“You never said anything!”
“Neither did you.”
“Yeah,” she said, a little guiltily. “How did you know who I was on Metafriends?”
“We bumped mobis the first day we met, when I walked you home. Remember? You shared the profile.”
Evangeline staggered backwards. She felt like she might fall over. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to!”
He nodded. “I figured it was a slipup.”
“I hope I didn’t make that mistake with anyone else,” she muttered.
“So Debbie doesn’t know? Or C.J.?”
“What? Of course not! Why would I ever tell them?”
“Haven’t you ever seen Debbie at TTC?” he asked. “As far as I knew, she was a regular. That’s why I went last week, to find out what she was up to. I never guessed you’d be there.”
“No, never! I haven’t been going very long, but…” Her eyes darted at him in earnest. “Please don’t tell anyone. You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone, Sebastian!”
He put his hands on her shoulders to reassure her. “I would never do that, Eva. Uh, well… I told one person, accidentally. But we’re not going to tell anyone else.”
“Who? Who did you tell?”
“The other member of our group.”
“Who is it?” She grabbed onto his collar, hung from it. “You have to tell me.”
“I can’t do that. We have secret identities for a reason.”
“It’s Alex!” she exclaimed. “Is it Alex?”
Torrent made a sour face. “Good guess.”
“Oh, wow! He’s a talent vigilante, too?”
“He's a vigilante, at any rate. Look, you know what this means? Now that you know both of our secret identities, you must join the team.”
Evangeline laughed. “Come on, Sebastian, I can’t do…” She waved her hand at him. “This.”
Torrent flashed his crooked smile. “Nonsense. You’d look smashing in a set of tights.”
“Be serious.”
“I am serious, Eva. You’ll join because being a superhero is awesome, because you know that throwing on a cape and tackling bank robbers really is a positive contribution to the world.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” she protested. “The average lifespan of a talent vigilante is five months–”
He shot her a wry look. “Did you forget that we were at the same meeting?”
“But it is dangerous!”
“Then you should join to keep me from getting killed,” he said.
She slapped his arm. “You can’t ask me this right now! I barely know whether I’m coming or going.”
Torrent smiled and gently brushed her cheek. “Of course. It takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”
Evangeline tossed her head back and spun in a circle. Her fear had fled, but it left behind a buildup of nervous energy, which was keyed even more by Sebastian’s revelation. “You’re not kidding. Wow. This is…” she trailed off, then shook her head disbelievingly. “I can’t go to TTC now, that’s for sure!”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Torrent took her fingers in his gloved hand and pulled her closer. She fell against his chest, her free hand pressed against the hard, straight line of his abdomen. She felt his other arm wind around the small of her back and saw her own face—lips parted, eyes wide and round— staring back at her in reflection from his goggles. She felt small and weak pressed up against him, and once again found herself thinking about how much bigger he was, only now the sensation that aroused was much more pleasant. He leaned down, tilting his head, pressing toward her lips with surreal slowness. Evangeline trembled. She closed her eyes and waited for the first brush of his lips against hers.
Instead, Torrent jerked back, hissing through his clenched teeth. The odor of singed cotton wafted in the air.
“You burned me,” he hissed, patting his stomach where her hand had been.
“Oh no! I’m so…” Evangeline hid her face in her hands before she could finish, cringing in embarrassment. She bit her knuckle, looked up at him sheepishly. “I’m sorry! My head is swimming.” Her tense laugh came out like a whimper.
Torrent grabbed her again, clamping his hands tightly around her forearms, and kissed her roughly. The whole time her body flared with heat, until her skin beaded with sweat. She kept flexing her numb fingers, trying to radiate it out into the cold air.
“Someone’s going to ask whose palm print is burned into my stomach,” Sebastian whispered. He was almost panting, and his hot breath on her ear made her squirm. “What am I going to tell them?”
Evangeline threw her arms around his neck and stood on the tips of her toes, planting little kisses all over his lips and chin and cheeks. “Oh,” she moaned, “tell them it was your hot, hot girlfriend.”
Sebastian laughed. “I would be only too happy.”
“You have to tell me everything. About what you’ve been doing, when you discovered your talents, everything. And you have to show me.”
“Show you?”
“Your powers!” Evangeline smiled almost drunkenly. There was a gleam in her eye. “I want to see you use them.”
He smirked. “Yeah?”
“Totally.”
“Let’s go, then.”
The pair walked south through Squirrel Hill for about half an hour, wending along side streets toward Schenley Park, whose tree-shrouded lanes hid the nearest body of water on which Sebastian could demonstrate his talent without attracting unwanted attention or causing needless property damage. Since his identity was no longer a secret, he stowed the goggles and gloves and pulled back the hood with the stitched-on mask; now he was just a teenager.
‘Even so, he looks heroic,’ Evangeline thought as she stole a glance at him. Memories of their first meeting stirred up butterflies in her stomach.
Neither of them said much during the journey, their mutual quiet heightening the air of expectation. Sometimes the excitement would flash over and Sebastian would glance at her, that cocky, ever-confident smirk slanting across his jaw. Mostly it was Evangeline, bouncing along beside him, who would giggle and look bashfully at the ground, shaking her head as she muttered how unbelievable this was.
Unbelievable, except that the revelation seemed so appropriate and perfectly inevitable. ‘Of course he would do this,’ she thought. ‘Who else?’
“Only you would spring this on me,” she said softly, almost unconsciously giving voice to her thoughts. She hastened to clarify: “I’m not complaining! I mean, it’s exciting and romantic, but following me like that was a little scary, too.”
“That’s why it’s exciting.”
“I guess,” she said.
“I was going to tell you last Monday, when we had dinner,” he said. “But then you ruined it by asking if I was a man-whore.”
Evangeline clucked her tongue. “Oh, come on! I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
She pursed her lips. It was hard to tell if he was really upset or just arguing for the sake of arguing. She noticed that he did that sometimes. Evangeline decided to go the diplomatic route, just in case. “Sorry. I see you’re still upset. I really shouldn’t have accused you like that. I was just—”
“Jealous.” Sebastian couldn’t keep from smirking.
‘So he’s just arguing,’ she thought. “Some guys would have taken it as a compliment, you know.”
He tilted his head at her, hiked an eyebrow. “Oh? And what does that mean?”
Evangeline rolled her eyes. She was not going to risk stoking that ego, nor giving him the wrong idea. “Nothing at all.”
Soon they arrived at a little cul-de-sac in the woods. Within it was a garden of granite pedestals and bronze statues circling a wide pool. Beneath the water gleamed nine concentric rings of light encircling a central fountain, which sprayed a plume of water half as high as the surrounding trees. Close to them, at the rim of the pool, stood a sculpture of a woman dressed in the style of a century ago. Her eyes were downcast and her cheeks were streaked with tears, sometimes of bronze and sometimes of spray from the fountain. It was dark beneath the young leaves, and even the electric lights on the pathways were muffled by the florid spring vegetation, so Evangeline had to squint to read the plaque:
In memory of all who perished in the Wars between the Worlds
With hope for a future of Everlasting Peace amongst the Heavens
Dedicated this 23rd Day of June, 1930
Re-dedicated this 9th Day of May, 1980
“It’s the Universal Peace Fountain,” Sebastian said. “The Weeping Mother was modeled on Marguerite Westinghouse. They used to live right around here.”
“She lost her son in the war,” Evangeline recalled.
Sebastian nodded. “Her husband, too. Supposedly on some secret mission in Arizona.”
He pointed to two barren pedestals further along the rim of the fountain. “If you can believe it, there used to be sculpture of a Martian and a Selenite down there, too. They removed them because they got tired of repairing the vandalism. Sons of Terra types, I guess.”
The thought saddened Evangeline, even though she had no desire to ever see either of those creatures. “So much for universal peace,” she sighed.
“Quaint,” he agreed. “So, you wanted to see me use my powers.”
Evangeline stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked back toward him. “Show me what you got.”
He shook out his arms a little and tilted his head side to side in preparation — a bit of theatrics, she imagined — and frowned at the fountain. The geyser weakened and shrunk, and finally turned off completely.
Evangeline was giddy again, and hopped around. “Nice! What else?”
Sebastian let out his breath and the fountain rocketed back up, big globs of frothy water crashing down into the pool. The central stream thinned out and a couple of smaller streams bent back like blooming flower petals. He briefly managed to make a few of the streams curve and spiral before they exploded.
“Watch,” he said, “I’m going to hit that statue over there.”
The strength of the fountain faltered again, frothing at the surface of the pool just like someone had stuck their thumb over the mouth of a garden hose. Then, with a resounding whoosh, it flared out again to an enormous height, arched downward and struck the earth — a good five feet away from the statue.
“Crap. Let me try that again.” Sebastian turned sideways, shook himself out, and stared at the fountain. Again the water surged and, under enormous pressure, sailed clear over the head of the statue, snapping off tree branches before it landed in the woods.
Evangeline tried to hide her amusement at his furious scowl. His cheeks were reddening; she wondered whether it was from effort or embarrassment.
“Got it this time,” he declared. But the column of water barely made it a foot off the surface before it exploded with a tremendous report, soaking them both and covering the memorial in a steamy haze.
“Damn it! One more time—”
Evangeline tugged him away by the arm. “OK, OK! I get the idea, Torrent,” she said, chuckling. “Why don’t you demonstrate your other talent before you blow out a water main?”
“Bah! I’ve done it before.”
“I believe you. So, psychometry? I’m not even 100% sure what that is.”
Sebastian shrugged. “I don’t think anyone else really is, either. It’s a type of ESP; you get impressions from objects. Mine is kind of weak, though. Mostly I have to touch something, but sometimes when there’s something really strange, I just pick up on it, like psychic radar.”
“Like what? What’s something really strange?”
Sebastian opened his mouth and then closed it quickly, as if weighing whether or not to speak. When he finally did, Eva got the impression that it wasn’t what he was originally going to say. “Like when someone is using their powers. When I fought the Werecat of Hazelwood, for example, I felt it coming before I even saw it.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Not a bit! There’s a werecat in Hazelwood. But don’t worry,” he added with a smirk, “it’s not real. It was a telepathic illusion or something like that. What? It’s hard to believe I’ve battled superhuman menaces?”
She nodded. “A little, yes.”
“Baby, you don’t know the half of it. This town is weird. Weirder than I ever imagined.”
Evangeline sat down on a bench and patted the empty spot next to her. “Back up a minute! What’s it like having a whole other sense? I mean… actually, I don’t know what I mean. You see things with your eyes, you know? And you hear sound. What is psychometry like?”
“I get you.” He settled down beside her, thinking about it for a minute. “It’s not really like a different sense. When I pick up on something, it comes across as a feeling or maybe a smell. When it’s stronger, I can see and hear things in my mind’s eye, like whatever the person who left the impression saw or heard. Sometimes I get their thoughts going through my head. Emotions. It’s not like I’m daydreaming, though. I can tell they’re not mine. It can be disorienting, though.”
Evangeline suddenly felt self-conscious about sitting so close to him. She wondered what thoughts and emotions of hers might have ended up in his head from when they held hands. It wasn’t that she was trying to hide anything from him — she’d obviously done a bad job of that — but it was discomfiting nonetheless. The idea of anyone having that level of intimacy with her was not something she’d ever thought about before. Now that she confronted it, it frightened her a little.
Sebastian looked back at her, furrowing his brow curiously. “What?”
She realized that she must have been staring at him, and some of that worry must have come out on her face. 'Unless…'
“So what did you pick up from me?” She tried to sound playful, but didn’t quite manage it.
“Lust. Mostly lust.” He laughed, shook his head. “Nothing, really. I didn’t even pick up that you had powers. I guess you didn’t use them enough? If you’re worried — or maybe hoping? — that I can read your mind, forget it. Even when I get a strong impression, it’s hard to make sense of it. You think people are hard to figure out by just talking to them, but getting little snippets of their thoughts and feelings, fragments of what they’re seeing? It’s a mess. Most times, you don’t have any context at all. Then there are the flashes of what I can only assume is symbolic imagery. I can pick up the raw, primal parts OK, but I’ve never been good at constructing something really detailed. I’m sure other psychometrists can, but as I said, mine just isn’t that sharp.”
“But if you ever found a murder weapon, you’d know it, and who did it?”
“If I ever find one, I’ll let you know.”
“And if you were to go through Vanessa DiPalmo’s purse…”
“Tried that already,” he said. Then, a heartbeat later, he added, “I’m kidding.”
Evangeline snapped her fingers. “Darn. Well, what about this bench? Getting anything interesting from it?”
Sebastian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was quiet for a while and seemed to be concentrating. She felt sure he was just humoring her, but then he shifted uncomfortably and his eyelids fluttered. “I see… a young man stumbling up the hill. A student from Carnegie Mellon. He’s injured. No, he’s drunk. He’s unzipping his pants, and… Oh, God, no! He’s peeing all over the bench! Right where you’re sitting!”
“Alright. I get it. I’ll stop asking.”
Sebastian’s head swung toward her, grinning. “I was going to spray you with water at the end there, you know.”
Evangeline cocked her head and smiled back at him. “Mmm hmm. And what do your psychic powers tell you I would have done to you if you had?”
Their eyes locked, and Sebastian stared at her dreamily until Eva started to blush. “Ah, I really like you,” he said.
“Yeah. You’re pretty awesome,” she sighed. He was so close now that she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“If I kiss you, will you burn me again?”
“Oh, probably.”
“How exciting,” he said as he pressed his lips to hers.
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