Chapter 26: Respite and Rude Awakenings
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The abandoned warehouse reeked of rust and old motor oil, but Charmcaster barely noticed. She'd warded the place with enough protective spells to keep out anything short of a missile bombardnt, and right now, she needed the solitude.
Purple energy crackled between her fingers as she paced the concrete floor, her heels clicking sharply with each step. The scrying crystal on the makeshift altar showed nothing but static, the magical interference from the failed ritual still clouding her attempts to track the Hulk's energy signature.
"Incompetent fool," she muttered, flicking her wrist to dispel the useless image. The crystal went dark, reflecting only her frustrated expression.
Uncle Hex had ruined everything.
The ritual had been her design, carefully crafted to siphon and store gamma energy without the ssy side effects of physical transformation. But no, her dear uncle had to go and inject his own modifications, trying to absorb the power directly into his body like so kind of magical steroid junkie.
She clicked her tongue in annoyance, rembering how close she'd been to salvaging the situation. If those ddling kids hadn't interfered...
The fast mutant creature. Now that was interesting. Who was that? And what was that? If a mutant, that criminal Magneto should chain him down or sothing. And the girl who had Hex's own stolen charms hanging around her neck like she'd been born to them? She annoyed her. How could she use those charms so easily?
Charmcaster paused mid-step, a slow smile spreading across her lips. They'd saved her life, true. But more importantly, they'd shown her sothing valuable.
Power ca in many forms, and perhaps she'd been too narrow in her focus on gamma radiation.
"The Charms of Bezel," she whispered to the empty warehouse. Those artifacts were rightfully hers by inheritance, stolen from her uncle who'd stolen them from... well, that was ancient history. What mattered was that so teenage girl was walking around with her magical legacy.
And that boy... oh, the possibilities if she could charm him to beco hers.
She wouldn't make Hex's mistakes. No rushing, no brute force. The Tennysons would cross her path again, she knew they would since fate had a funny way of arranging such etings. And when they did, she'd be ready.
Her violet eyes glinted with ambition as she resud her pacing, already formulating plans within plans.
“Let them think they'd won this round,” she giggled. The ga was far from over.
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“Gonna get sticky!”
The outdoor café on 42nd Street served the best smoothies in Manhattan, or at least that's what the Yelp reviews claid. I took another sip of my mango-passion fruit blend, watching the city's most famous wall-crawler swing between buildings overhead.
Classic Spidey, I thought, giving a small whistle of appreciation as he executed a perfect triple flip before disappearing around a corner. Hope he doesn’t break his bones.
"Enjoying the view, Tennyson?"
Ten minutes. It hadn’t been long since I sat down, and yet I saw Spidey swinging by, which was quite spectacular. And yet, just as I heard that voice co from behind, Spider-Man was old news. I turned to find Jessica Jones.
Even in jeans and a simple sweater, she had a way of making the whole chaotic city blur around the edges. That smirk was still a lethal weapon, and damn if I wasn’t glad to be in its line of fire again.
My eyes slid across her form. She wore fitted jeans that hugged her curves perfectly and a white sweater that brought out the blue in her eyes. Her dark hair caught the afternoon sun, and that familiar smirk played on her lips.
"The view just got a whole lot better," I said, standing to pull out her chair.
"Such a gentleman." She sat down with exaggerated grace. "Mr. Intergalactic Man of Mystery finally graces us re mortals with his presence. But I'm wondering where this chivalry was when you ghosted for three days. I was starting to think my texts were ending up in a black hole, or maybe you'd just found a new planet with better reception."
"Ghosted? That's harsh." I clutched my chest in mock pain. "I’d prefer you say I was 'temporarily communication challenged.'"
"Uh-huh." She flagged down a waiter, ordering an iced coffee before fixing with those piercing eyes. "So what's the real story? Alien invasions? Governnt conspiracies? Or did you just lose your phone in another dinsion?"
"Would you believe all of the above?"
"With you? Absolutely."
The waiter brought her coffee, and she took a long sip before continuing. "Seriously though, Ben. Radio silence for days, then suddenly you're all 'Hey Jess, wanna grab coffee in the city?' What's really going on?"
I laughed. “The week’s just been Hazard. You know how it is, one minute you're planning your week, the next you're wrestling a magically mutated sorcerer in the Virginia wilderness. Reception's terrible out there, and the roaming charges are a killer."
“Crazy,” she gave a small shake of her head, not doubting after the pictures of alien Bounty Hunters I’d sent her before. “But that sounds so fun, though. for example. Things here have been… New York. Had a guy last week convinced his prize-winning poodle was abducted by pigeons. Turns out, the poodle just really liked the hot dog vendor three blocks over."
I chuckled. "Sounds about right. My sumr's been a bit less… dostic. More explosions, fewer poodles."
She giggled at that. “Hey, I won’t complain if I were you, with your set of powers. That aside, why the sudden et-up? Don’t tell , you felt you should make up to for ignoring , and call for a coffee date? Awh, that’s so sweet of you. Or maybe… you have an ulterior motive?” She gave a mischievous look.
I leaned back, matching her energy. "What, a guy can't want to see his favorite superhero without an ulterior motive?"
"Your favorite?" She raised an eyebrow. "What about Spider-Man? You were practically drooling when he swung by."
"Fine, superheroine. Besides, Spider-Man doesn't look nearly as good in jeans."
She laughed, a simple sound that made sothing warm bloom in my chest. I watched her smile at . "Smooth talker. But you're deflecting."
Her laugh was easy, genuine, and for a few precious seconds, I almost forgot why I was really here. Almost forgot the shadow of a green monster looming over the city. Grandpa and Gwen were easing around nearby, but I told Gwen that things might go haywire. She was nice enough not to ask too many questions sotis.
So, I wasn’t worried about them. And Jessica made forget about the rest of my worries, too. It was nice, too nice. The kind of calm that always ca before the mother of all storms.
"? Never." I took another sip of my smoothie. "Maybe I just missed you. Is that so hard to believe?"
"From the guy who fights alien bounty hunters for fun?" She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Yeah, actually. You always have an angle, Tennyson. So spill. Did you call here just to bask in my radiant presence, or did you have sothing more in mind?"
The way she said 'more' sent my mind places it definitely shouldn't go in public. I smiled a little. "Radiance sounds fun. But… can't it be both?"
"Okay, now we're getting sowhere." She sat back, satisfaction written across her face. "So what's the real reason? Need backup for sothing? Information? Or..." Her smile turned wicked. "Did you finally work up the courage to ask to your prom?"
"First of all, prom was months ago. Second, I absolutely would have asked you if interdinsional fate hadn’t yet chosen as its savior back then." I paused, letting my expression grow more serious. "But unfortunately, while seeing you is definitely a major perk, I might also be using this date as a bit of an excuse."
"What kind of excuse?" she asked with a smirk, but when I didn’t smile back, and when she saw the look in my eyes, her deanor shifted instantly, playful Jessica replaced by alert Jewel.
I leaned in conspiratorially. "Look, Jess… as much as I'd love for this to just be about catching up and maybe convincing you that mango smoothies are superior to iced coffee… there's sothing else. Sothing big. And yeah, I was hoping you ca prepared."
"...My suit under," she said calmly, pulling her sweater’s collar a little, where I saw the white and blue costu was hidden. "What's going on? What level of 'big' are we talking?"
"Sothing very big. Green. Angry. Has a tendency to smash things when—"
BOOM!
The explosion rocked the entire block, windows rattling in their fras as car alarms shrieked to life. My smoothie toppled over, purple liquid spreading across the table as the ground shook beneath us.
People scread, running in every direction as smoke billowed up from sowhere deeper in the city. Through the chaos, I could hear the distinctive sound of military helicopters approaching fast.
Jessica was already on her feet, her hand finding mine. "Ben—"
"Yeah," I sighed, watching as a second explosion lit up the skyline. The mood had suddenly gone dark, serious. "And there's my roll call."
The Harlem incident had begun, right on schedule.
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