It must be one of her powers, he decided.
He turned away. But he had to watch her, had to figure out what she was doing, how he could best get her to tell him what he needed to know. So he looked back again, just in time to see her glancing out her bedroom door into the hall, before closing the door and locking it. She was trying to be quiet, acting … sneaky.
Frowning, he watched, riveted.
She climbed up onto a chair and, reaching above her head, pushed one of the ceiling panels upward. Now this was interesting. Reaching into the opening, she tugged out a large file box, one of those cardboard numbers for storing documents and file folders. Edge moved closer to the glass, riveted as she climbed down, set the box on her bed and removed the lid. Her lips pursed, she tugged something out of it: a black three-ring binder, with a white label on its spine.
Squinting until his eyes watered, Edge focused on that spine and eventually managed to read the words on its label.
X-1: Volume A.
“X-1,” he whispered. It was Stiles’s name for her. Then those binders—the box was full of them—had to be his notes. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “She’s got everything he learned about her—all of it, right there.”
And maybe the answers Edge needed. The key to Stiles’s vulnerability.
She skimmed pages for a while, and Edge slipped inside her mind, trying to listen in. Her parents thought these notebooks were still locked in the safe at their home, he heard her thinking. She felt a little guilty about that. Someone called Eric had made copies of everything and taken them to his lab, while the originals had been secured in the house at Irondequoit Bay. Only they weren’t. They were here, hidden in her bedroom. He couldn’t get deep enough to read through her eyes, to see what she was seeing—but he felt her frustration before she slammed the book closed.
Whatever she was looking for, she wasn’t finding it.
She dragged another suitcase from underneath her bed, slung it onto the mattress and opened it. Then she piled the notebooks into it, lining them up carefully, side by side, then adding a second layer, narrow front to wider spine. Finally she laid a few articles of clothing over the top and then zipped the bag. She put the empty cardboard box under her bed, double-checked the ceiling panel to be sure it was in place, and then unlocked and opened her bedroom door.
“I’m about ready,” she called, snagging the two suitcases from the bed and heading into the hallway.
Edge left his post then, jumping to the ground, and creeping around to the front of the apartment again, where she’d left her car. The trunk popped open before she even exited the house. Remote control, he guessed. Then she was hurrying from the apartment, with her friend on her heels. She slung the cases easily into the trunk and slammed it, then went to the driver’s door.
The blonde handed her a sheaf of papers and a grocery bag. “Here are your directions. And a few snacks for the road.”
Amber Lily—God, the name was ill suited to her, Edge thought. She was more vibrant than amber and far tougher than any fragile lily. At any rate, she took the bag and peered inside. Then the other one took it back from her, opened the passenger door and set it on the seat. She laid the sheets of paper on the dashboard and turned to Amber again. “I love you, you know.”
“I know. And I know why you’re not going with me.”
“Do you?”
Amber nodded. “I do. And I’m grateful. You’re right, Alicia. I need to go alone.”
“I’ll come later. Give you a few days to be alone with Will.”
Who the hell was Will? Edge wondered. And he wondered it with a passion that surprised him.
“I don’t know how alone I’ll be. Aunt Rhi’s there. And don’t forget ‘Fina. I’ll be lucky if she lets him out of her sight.”
“She’s not going to handle this well.”
“I can’t imagine her handling it at all,” Amber said. She lowered her head. “God, they’re so in love. I just don’t know how she’ll go on if he dies.”
“I’m afraid.she might decide not to try,” Alicia said softly.
Amber stared into her friend’s eyes. “Let this be a lesson to us both. A girl can’t afford to fall so deeply in love that she can’t live without a guy. It’s too risky.” She shook her head. “God, when I see how desperately my parents need each other it scares the hell out of me. If one of them should lose the other …”
“I know. I know. But that’s not going to happen.”
“It could. But not to me. Never to me.”
“You wouldn’t know it to see how you’re reacting to this news about Will.”
Amber lowered her eyes, sighed. “It’s different with Will, and you know it.” She sighed softly. “Will saved my life. I just can’t help thinking there might be some way I can. return the favor.”
“Oh, Amber, don’t,” Alicia said softly. “Don’t get your hopes up. You may be Superchick, but you’re not a goddess. You don’t have the power to cure cancer.”
“I know that,” she said.
But Edge got the feeling she didn’t really mean it. He felt that stubborn determination, that fight, kicking its heels up somewhere inside her again. She tamped it down and wrapped the other woman, Alicia, in her arms. “But if there were anything I could do, I would. I owe him my life, you know. If I could give it to him, I’d do it in a minute.”
“He wouldn’t take it if you offered.” Alicia kissed Amber’s cheek, then brushed her fingers over it, maybe to wipe away a tear. “Go, and be careful.”
“I will.”
Amber got into the car, put in the key. Alicia pulled something from a pocket and handed it through the window to her.
“A CD?”
“My favorite traveling mix. Stroke-9. Matchbox-20.” She frowned. “Ever notice all our favorite bands have numbers in their names?”
“Sum-41 on there?”
“Actually, they are.” The two of them laughed. Amber took the CD from its case and slid it into the player. Music, smooth and mellow, wafted from the car. Amber put the car in gear, pulled it slowly away from the curb.
Alicia stood there for a long time, watching her, waving.
Edge tore himself away from the emotional goodbye long enough to dash into the apartment—the two women had left the door unlocked, and the one who might sense him there was gone. He moved through the apartment far too fast for human eyes to detect him and found the computer easily—it was in Alicia’s bedroom, and its screen still showed the driving directions the girl had printed out for her friend. He read the screen quickly. She was heading to some place called Harbor Rock, in Salem Harbor, just outside Salem, Massachusetts. He memorized the route, all of ten hours by car. He was slightly surprised that it tended to avoid the Thruway, which would have been faster. Then he ducked into Amber’s bedroom when he heard Alicia coming back inside. He exited through the same window he’d been looking through moments ago, closed it behind him, and then headed away from the apartment, into the darkness.
A few blocks away, he found his Mustang. It had been glossy and black in its youth. Now it was dull and faded, and he owed the little car a paint job in return for its years of loyal service. It would do until he got where he needed to be, though. He planned to be riding in a fancy little Ferrari within a few hours.
Amber Lily was as soft hearted as they came—she’d revealed as much. Going by the neighborhood and what he’d seen of the apartment, not to mention the car, he would say she was fairly well spoiled,