I pocket my phone and start walking again, faster now, like I can outrun the hollowed-out feeling in my chest if I just move quickly enough.
I have an article to write. A cover to maintain. A mission to complete.
Everything else—the loneliness, the wanting, the terrifying possibility I might be falling for a man I can never truly have—will have to wait.
It always does.
CHAPTER 23
VANGUARD
I goinvisible before I reach Chelsea.
It’s not a conscious decision. One moment, I’m flying south over the Hudson, the city sprawling beneath me in its grid of light and shadow, shiny thanks to today’s rain, and the next, I’m watching my hands disappear, my body bleeding into the night sky like I was never there at all.
It’s better this way. No one’s wondering why America’s Hero is circling a mid-range hotel instead of patrolling the skyline. No telephoto lenses. No questions.
Just me, alone in the dark, doing something I shouldn’t be doing.
Her window is dark, curtains drawn, balcony empty. I hover there anyway, scanning for movement, the infrared on my watch looking for the warm blur of body heat through the glass.
There’s nothing, which means she’s out somewhere.
But where? Is she talking to other sources? Is she exploring the city? Is she on a date?
The idea of her with someone else tickles that darkness, threatening to smother me with anger. She wouldn’t be on a date, not after we slept together—would she?
I should leave. Fly somewhere else, respond to a call, do the job I was built for. Instead, I circle the building, hoping on each pass, she’ll suddenly materialize.
What the hell is wrong with you?
Nothing, everything. Since Mia came into my life, I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, don’t know what’s normal and what’s not.
The watch buzzes against my wrist. I glance down at the display—Julia, requesting a status update. Third one in the last hour.
I tap back a curt response.All clear. Patrolling lower Manhattan.
The lie comes easy. Too easy. I’ve never lied to them before, not directly, and not about anything that matters. But lately, the truth feels like something I need to protect, something they don’t get to have.
I bank east, putting distance between myself and her hotel, trying to focus on the city beneath me. This is what I’m supposed to do. Watch over them. Keep them safe. Be the symbol they need me to be. Help this country rebuild itself so people can trust in their future again.
The watch buzzes again.
Reminder: Media briefing tomorrow at 0900. Wardrobe has selected navy suit. Please confirm.
With a sigh, I confirm, like always. That’s what good assets do.
Asset.I’ve heard Julia use it in meetings, like I’m not there in front of her, heard Marsh toss it around like I’m a line item on a budget report. I know what I am to them. I’ve always known. But lately, the knowledge has teeth, and they’re starting to bite.
A siren wails somewhere below, a Loss Prevention drone heading toward the Meatpacking District. I track itautomatically, waiting for the dispatch alert that would send me diving toward whatever emergency needs handling.
The alert doesn’t come. It’s someone else’s problem tonight.
I keep flying. Keep circling. Keep ending up back over Chelsea no matter which direction I go.
You’re pathetic. You know that, right?
The voice in my head sounds like Emma. That mix of exasperation and affection she always had when I was being stubborn about something. If she were alive today, I could hear what she’d say:Just go talk to her like a normal person. Oh wait, you’re not a normal person. You’re a genetically engineered superhero who’s apparently forgotten how phones work.
