CHAPTER 58
JET
Heroes must always have someone to play the villain. Otherwise, the world would have no use for them.
Lester Bradford, statement made during sentencing at his felony trial
On the Academy rooftop, Jet stared into the distance as the sun began its ascent. She’d been there all night, watching the stars attempt to twinkle through the haze of pollution that shrouded New Chicago. But no matter how brightly the pinpricks of light shone, they didn’t make a dent in the darkness.
At night, shadows reigned supreme.
But the dawn was coming, and with it a new day … and with that would come the repercussions for Jet’s actions. It had been her suggestion—her demand—that Iridium be sent to Blackbird instead of Therapy. It had been her weakness that had allowed Iridium to slip away from the Academy, and from justice.
For all Corp knew, Jet had arranged to have Iri escape from the moment she’d slain Paul Collins.
Snarling, Jet let fly a blast of Shadow. It curved into the nighttime sky and obliterated the few stars that had gamely tried to overcome the darkness. A flicker of white, quickly swallowed by black.
Damn her! How could she have done this to Jet? How could she have thumbed her nose at them all and just disappeared? Heroes don’t do that!
But Iridium had proven she was no hero. She was rabid, like her father before her.
Jet sank to the floor, slowly, clenched her fists, and slammed them against her thighs as she knelt before the rising sun as if offering a penance to the Light, or to Jehovah, or any deity that actually cared.
How could Callie have killed that man? Jet couldn’t understand; the very concept of a hero killing anyone was utterly alien. Yes, in battle there were casualties on both sides, but those were justifiable. In battle, in the war against evil and injustice, people got hurt, and sometimes, accidents happened.
But Iridium had killed him in cold blood. She could have stopped herself. Should have stopped herself.
From the darkness of her mind, Jet heard laughter. She frowned, adjusted the white-noise frequency in her earpiece.
How do you even think with that thing in your ear? Iri’s voice was smooth and taunting, like white chocolate.
Callie, how could you murder that man?
Iri laughed. I haven’t felt one thin drop of regret for Paul Collins.
Jet knew. And it broke her heart.
I’m not sorry about this, Iridium whispered. At all.
Jet shrieked her rage and her sorrow to the sky, and in her mind, the voices giggled. Eventually, her voice gave out and she broke off, panting, hearing her cry echo and fade away.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Her back stiffened, and she pointedly refused to turn around to face Night. She heard him approach, then halt just behind her, to her left.
“You should be sleeping. Tomorrow’s a big day. First the tribunal for you, and then, assuming they don’t expel you, you’re off to graduation.” Night snorted. “Little worry about expulsion, though. Not while you’re the apple of Corp’s eye and slated to be the Hero of New Chicago.”
She said nothing as she rose to her feet. She wouldn’t look at him.
Silence stretched between them as the sun rained its brilliance on the city.
“Nevertheless,” Night finally said, “you’re still ass deep in alligators. Both Corp and the Academy are desperate for a scapegoat, just in case their media damage control fails. I’m here to officially read you the riot act.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m fully aware that if Iridium’s escape ever makes the news, my career will be over. Sir.”
“If she’s anything like her father,” Night said dryly, “escaping from lockup will be the least of her crimes. I give her three months before she starts to act outside of the law.”
At that, she turned to face her mentor. “She wouldn’t,” Jet insisted.
“Believe me, I know the Bradford family all too well.” Beneath his cowl, Night’s eyes gleamed, perhaps with amusement. “Luster was already doing the things he was noted for as Arclight, even when he was still in the Squadron. Small things. Starting with disregarding procedure. Going off half-cocked. Bad-mouthing the Academy, the Squadron, even Corp. Sound like anyone you know?”
Jet flinched.
“She’s as arrogant as her father ever was,” Night said, walking to stand next to Jet. He, too, stared at the lightening sky. “Thinks she’s above everyone and everything around her. Can’t be bothered with following the rules when they’re inconvenient.”
“She’s always had a problem with that,” Jet murmured.
“Too smart for her own good,” Night said, nodding at her. “Just like her father. They get bored. They act out. Iridium will follow in her father’s footsteps. You can count on it.”
Jet said quietly, “And me, sir? Will I follow in my father’s footsteps?”
After a pause, Night said, “Blackout was a fine hero.” He turned to look at the New Chicago skyline, and when he next spoke, his voice was distant, dreamlike. “One of the best. He did things with Shadow that were groundbreaking. He had no fear, and he was ready to sacrifice himself to help others.”
Jet rubbed her arms, thinking about her father and how he’d looked when he’d given her mother one final squeeze. “Until the Shadow started speaking to him.”
“All powers have a weakness, Joan,” Night said. “Ours just happens to be more … noticeable.”
She frowned as she considered his words. It had never occurred to her that other extrahumans had their own shadows to overcome. “What about Lighters? What’s their weakness?”
“Pride.”
Jet thought about that, then slowly nodded.
“You’re in trouble, Jet. Make no mistake about that.” Night’s voice was full of reproach, and Jet bit her lip, hung her head low. He said, “You let your feelings get in the way of following procedure.”
“I know, sir. But it was Iri.”
“Iridium. No nicknames, Joan. No vestiges of friendship. That’s all dead and gone now, like the man she slaughtered.”
“He was a rapist,” Jet said, lifting her head to see the sun reaching higher. “She said he was hurting a woman, had hurt lots of women.”
“And that gave her the right to play Jehovah?” Night snorted. “Pride, Jet. Arrogance. All Light powers stink of it. She’s no different. And now, thanks to her, you may lose everything we’ve worked for.”
Glaring at the sunrise, Jet clenched her fist. An inky stain spread over her fingers. “How do I make this right?”
“You graduate tomorrow. You’ve already interviewed with the Squadron recruiter, so all that’s left is the waiting. Once you get assigned, your first duty will be to this city—your sponsor as well as your protectorate. You’ll do what you’re told. You’ll save lives. You’ll keep Corp happy, and will be the perfect Academy graduate. And when Iridium shows up, you’ll strike.”
“You’re so sure she’s going rabid,” Jet said, nostrils flaring. “She could just go rogue, be a vigilante.”
“And is that any better?”
Although her heart screamed yes, that made all the difference in the world, she said what the Academy had taught her: “No. Not at all.”
Iridium whispered, You proved that you’re a lapdog who parrots the party line no matter what.
She thinks I sold her out. Jet bared her teeth in a silent scream. She really thought all I cared about was getting press. It never occurred to her that I’d helped her.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jet said—maybe to Iridium, maybe to Night. “She’s shown her true colors.”
You’ll never, ever be able to grow a backbone and think for yourself.
And that’s where you’re wrong, Jet vowed. “I’ll do what I have to do.”
“You’ll find her, Jet.”
She stared out into the dawn, the light and color playing in the sky as if in tribute to Iridium. “I will. A hero never quits.”
A hero whose entire time at the Academy was spent by having everyone protect her from the things that went bump in the night. From the boogeyman in the shadows. From the voices.
From life.
She thought of Iri, that day long ago, telling Jet to stand up to Dawnlighter, and that if anyone gave Jet any shit, Iri would punch their faces in.
Jet took a deep breath, felt it fill her, cleanse her. She exhaled, shedding her worries, her fears. Her doubts.
She was done needing protection.
“However long it takes, I promise, I’ll bring Iridium back home.” Her eyes teared as she stared into the sun and refused to look away. “And justice will be served.”
Night put his gauntleted hand on her shoulder. “It will, little Shadow. This I promise you. There will be a day of reckoning. And then, the Light will fall before the Shadow.”
His words made her tremble with anticipation, and for the first time in days, Jet allowed herself to smile.
The sun rose, and a new era had begun.