Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Some Sort of a Hero 6: Joyous Discovery By Mannheim Knot

   >>>>>

   MC, mf, supers, non-sexual violence

   >>>>>

   Three years have passed, and with help from little Hannah, our heroes
find evidence that Damage's gang is still out there, and up to no good. 
Clay meets a teenage superstar with many secrets.  She makes a request that
leads to Clay finding a joy he never expected.  The saga concludes.

   >>>>>

   OCTOBER 2004 Sixteen-year-old Becky James sat in the back of most of her
classes at Saint Joan's High School these days.  She usually faked taking
notes as she worked on another sketch.  She was getting nibbles from some
clothing companies on her designs.  They loved them, but were hesitant
about taking on a high school girl as a designer.  Still, she thought that
Lake City Limited might finally be ready to just go ahead and hire her.  If
they did, that would be fantastic.  If they didn't, she could live with
that, too.  She would be a designer someday.  She just didn't have any
doubt about that.

   Becky scanned the room filled with her Saint Joan's classmates.  These
kids were mainly from wealthy families, mainly good students, mainly
attractive, mainly headed for big success in the world.  But even with all
that going for them, Becky wondered if any of them could possibly be as
happy as she'd been lately.  She seemed to have so many good things going
on.  In addition to her design work, her other attempts to build a life
beyond Clayton had been going extremely well.  She'd had a couple
boyfriends since then, and she'd found that "just plain old sex" like the
rest of the kids had was still pretty freaking awesome.  Also, it turned
out that Becky was apparently a pretty good actress.  She'd spent her first
year being an assistant to the costumer, but the director had finally
managed to talk her into auditioning, and Becky had now risen up to become
the lead in the last two shows.

   Ironically, being successful in a life not built around Clayton Teller
and his world of supers had given Becky the confidence to begin to slide
right back into that life.  She now knew that the others weren't going to
define her.  In between boyfriends, she found herself with Clay, and both
of them had grown comfortable with the idea that they might get back
together someday.  But they also agreed they didn't have to stand in place
while they waited for it to happen.  Meanwhile, Becky enjoyed both school
and her friendship with Clayton's odd little family.  She had even let
Dinah talk her into taking "classes" with Hannah.  The toddler had come
along further and faster than they had imagined possible.  Hannah had
discovered things about minds that Clayton claimed he never would have
stumbled across without her.

   Hannah couldn't push, well not very much anyway.  But she could read
minds more easily than most people could talk.  While still in the womb she
had pulled an immense amount of information from her grandfather's head. 
"Grandpa Damage" as Hannah called him, had been evil as could be, but he
was an incredibly skilled psionic.  Hannah shared everything she could with
her daddy, Clay.  The two of them constantly explored ways to make
themselves and their friends stronger.  And that had led them to an amazing
discovery.  About one in every hundred people had some very limited ability
to either push or read.

   Hannah and Clayton reckoned that only about one in ten thousand of those
people had any idea that they could do anything out of the ordinary at all.
The ones who could push a little bit were just considered "charming" or
"persuasive." The ones with a slight ability to read or sense things were
just considered "intuitive" or even simply "good listeners."

   But Hannah also had discovered that even an ordinary person could be
taught to sense when they were being pushed.  With some training, they
could even block pushes from less powerful psionics.  Hannah taught Dinah
and Becky how to do it.  She even taught Dinah's new husband, Hector, to do
it.

   Once Clay had completely removed the complex set of controls that Damage
had put on Hector Marquez, also known as Angelo Angel, it didn't take very
long for the superhero to fall in love with the only person who had ever
bested him physically.  And it didn't take her long to realize that she was
in love with him as well.  It had all played out very well for everyone
since Hector had no problem going along with the story that Hannah was his
child.  It had been Clay's suggestion actually.  If Hector was Hannah's
acknowledged father, no one ever had to know that Dinah had slept with a
thirteen-year-old boy.  They all figured that if Hannah ever became a
superhero, she would then be explained as Angelo Angel's child with Dynamo.
Mindwalker would just be a family friend.

   When Becky had first heard about the arrangement she had been sad for
Clay.  Hannah picked up on it right away.  "Don't worry, Aunt Becks," the
child had whispered in Becky's brain.  "I still call my real daddy `Daddy.'
I just send it from my brain to his." Over time, Becky saw that Clay spent
a great deal of time with his daughter, and that he and the Marquez family
were all remarkably happy together.  And having the little brown-haired
girl call her "Aunt Becks" was just one more joy in Becky's happy life.

   Becky sat in the back of biology class sketching out a design for a cute
little nightie that she figured most any girl her age would like to wear.
It was sexy in a sweet way.  Then, the classroom door opened and the
principal walked in and handed the teacher a slip of paper.  The teacher
nodded and beckoned toward the door.  A very good-looking new boy walked
into the classroom and headed toward the back row.  Becky moved her things
off the empty seat beside her, and the boy smiled shyly and took the seat.
"Becky," she said with a smile.

   "Teddy," he said and grinned.  He had a very nice smile.  Becky figured
she had one more little joy to add to her life.

   That changed about two minutes later.  She sensed a push coming in her
direction.  She knew that no one in this particular class had even latent
push abilities.  So, the new boy was trying to get into her brain, and it
was no idle fantasy.  He was definitely doing it on purpose.  "You want
me," his voice said in her mind.  "You want me so bad that you are going to
do everything I say.  You're going to be my little bitch, and no matter
what I do to you, you're going to keep coming back to me for more." Along
with the commands came some very disturbing images of the boy hurting
Becky. They weren't rough play things, either.  This boy wanted to fuck
her, but also to torture her, to injure her.  "And when I ask you to, Becky
James, you are going to help me destroy Clayton Teller." So, he was a creep
AND an assassin.  Thankfully, he possessed nothing comparable to Clay's
ability.  Becky was able to keep anything he said from taking hold.  "If
you heard me and understand all this, tap your pencil on your notebook
three times."

   Becky tapped her pencil three times and gave Teddy a shy smile as she
pretended to melt into her seat a bit.  She slid her phone out of her
pocket and quickly texted a message.  She never looked at the phone at all.
Even if Teddy had seen her get the phone out, which she was pretty sure he
hadn't, he wouldn't have thought anything of a girl meeting a boy she now
found irresistible texting a friend about it.  Becky simply played along
with everything.  At the end of class, Becky looked at Teddy.  "Hey, it
would suck for a new kid to have to ride the bus home," she said.  "Could I
give you a lift after school?"

   "How about we ditch the rest of the afternoon and head out right now?"
he pushed into her brain.

   "I would love to ditch the rest of the afternoon and head out right
now," she said aloud.  "If you want to, I mean," she added.

   "Yeah," he said certain that his command was now complete.  "I guess
that would be alright.  Come on, bitch." He took her hand and led her out
of the school, pushing the teacher by the exit into ignoring them.  That
suited Becky just fine.  The fewer people who knew about what was going on,
the better.  Becky led Teddy to the car, opened his door for him and then
walked around to the driver's side.  She got in, leaned toward him as if
she was going to kiss him and then pulled her Taser from her purse and
pressed it against his neck.  Teddy was still twitching and jerking when
Clay arrived and slid his long, ever-more-muscular body into the backseat.
Becky flashed him a smile, started the car and drove away.

   "You know," Clay said, "we ought to have you zap me with that thing one
of these days and see how long it takes me to recover and be able to push
again.  I bet it screws up your brain longer than it does your body."

   "Are you going to push him and put him to sleep?" Becky asked.

   "I already did.  He's been under my control since he left the door of
the school."

   "Oh, so I didn't have to zap him?" she asked.

   "I figured you'd enjoy it," he said.  "You could have taken him out
either way, Becky.  Your blocks are pretty damned good."

   "You got here fast," she said.  Clay didn't go to school anymore.  He
had a toddler at home and many other irons in the fire.

   "I was, um, in the middle school wing already," he said softly.

   "You know, Clay, I'm the only girl our age you ever mess around with
anymore.  What's with the young ones?"

   He shrugged.  "I just like `em, I guess."

   "Well, you take good care of your girls.  None of us are concerned about
it.  This guy I am concerned about," she said, looking at Teddy.  "He knew
my full name and he wanted me to set you up so that he could destroy you."

   "He has to have some outside help," Clay said.  "No way some random kid
with push ability could figure all that out.  There are still some remnants
of my dad's old organization out there."

   "And they want revenge?" Becky asked.

   "Maybe.  Don't forget, though.  They could also be after money.  I was
sole heir to all my dad's assets.  Mr.  Cartwell's attorneys and
accountants found an awful lot of it for me."

   "Yeah, I know," she said as she turned down a private road at the edge
of town.  "I believe I overheard Mr.  C mention the word `billion.'" She
looked in the rearview mirror and watched Clay turn red.  The money had
proven very useful, but he was still ashamed of the fact that it was
ill-gotten gain.

   One very useful thing he'd done with the money was build a
home/crimefighting fortress for his little family.  Even at this distance,
Becky could see the huge mansion built atop the hill at the end of the
road. The name on the mailbox at the end of the drive read Marquez, but the
real owner of the massive house and lush grounds was a trust that Cartwell
had set up for one Clayton Teller.  Hector had dug a series of tunnels
branching out from the old Lake City sewer system and into the nearby
woods. From there, a second series of tunnels connected to the sub-basement
of the mansion.  No one ever saw Angelo Angel, Dynamo or Mindwalker coming
and going from the Marquez home.  But as Becky drove up to the front door,
she did see Hector walking out in his street clothes.  The big handsome man
strode up to the car, grabbed the unconscious Teddy in one big hand and
held him like a briefcase as he waited for Becky to circle around the car
and give him a hug.

   "Becky James!" Hector cried as he wrapped a big arm around her.  "You
okay, beautiful?"

   "Fine, Hector.  How are you?"

   "I feel as good as I look," he said with a grin, "and that ain't easy,
you know."

   "What has you in such a good mood?" Becky asked.

   "Tell her, big man," Clay said.  "Or you know Hannah will."

   "Mamacita and Papi are having another baby!" Hector declared.

   "That's wonderful!" Becky said and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his
cheek.

   "This time it's actually his," Clay needled him.

   "First one was, too," Hector whispered to Becky.  "Dinah was just being
nice to the boy."

   "I heard that," Clay said.

   "Worse than my wife," Hector said as he strode into the house with Teddy
dangling like a rag doll in his grip.  "And he doesn't have any of the
wonderful ways she has of making up for it."

   Becky laughed.  There was no tension beneath all the ribbing.  This was
just the odd way boys became friends.  With Clay and Hector it was almost a
big brother, little brother relationship.  But in many ways Clay was the
big brother.  Freed from the controls Damage had put on him, Hector was so
innocent and sweet he was almost childlike.  Clay hadn't taken away the
dark memories of what his father had done to the hero, but he had taught
Hector how to close them off until they were useful in understanding a bad
situation or recognizing the signs of peril.  Given his freedom and the
love of a beautiful woman, Hector had quite possibly become even happier
than Becky, and that took some doing.

   Hector dropped the unconscious boy on the couch.  Dinah and Hannah were
already there.  Becky ran up and hugged Dinah.  "Congratulations!" Becky
squealed.

   "Aw, Papi told Aunt Becks," the three-year-old Hannah groaned.  "I
wanted to!" Becky kissed the child on top of the head.  When Hannah spoke
aloud, her language was simple and childlike.  She really was only three,
after all.  It was only when she kicked in her special abilities that she
took on the traits of an older girl.  In the beginning, she had been unable
to ever turn off the power, but now she could do it.  Everyone, including
Hannah herself, loved the times she could just be a fairly normal preschool
girl.

   That thought must have been going through Hector's mind at the moment,
because he suddenly turned to Becky and asked, "Can you take Hannah to
story time at the children's museum on Saturday?  All three of us are
supposed to costume up and be at the Special Olympics that morning."

   "Sure, Hector," Becky said with a smile.  "I love spending time with
Hannah."

   "Yippeeeeee!" Hannah cried.

   "Down to business, then?" Dinah asked.

   "Ready to read him, Sweet Pea?" Clay asked his daughter.

   "Uh-huh," she said.

   "Want me to wake him up?"

   "Nuh-uh," she said.  Everyone was quiet for a moment or two.  Then
Hannah turned to her daddy.  Her voice was different now, older in many
ways.  "He wanted Becky to lead you to a spot by the Tiffin Bridge.  He has
a friend with a high-powered rifle who is in room 616 at the Coronet Hotel.
That's who was going to try and kill you, Daddy."

   "Okay.  Angelo Angel will have to go to Room 616," Hector said.  "Who
sent these guys, Hannah?"

   "Nobody," she said.  "They were trying to impress someone named Dean
Hartman.  He used to work for Grandpa Damage and then formed his own gang
in Cleveland afterwards.  Hartman had turned these guys down when they
asked for a job.  For some reason, this boy couldn't put a push on him. 
But he was able to get information on you from one of the other guys.  So,
Teddy was going to get you in order to prove that he was strong.  I don't
know why Hartman could block Teddy, though.  Maybe Grandpa taught him how
to defend against blocks."

   "Why would he do that?" Becky asked.  "Why would he want people who
could block his power?"

   "He didn't worry about that.  Even if they could block most psi's, they
couldn't block him," Clay said.  "My dad didn't think even I could stand up
to him.  He was right in a way.  He just forgot I have friends and family.
That's the only reason I survived."

   "You want me to go get Hartman?" Hector asked.

   "Not alone," Clay said.  "He might actually have some power, or have
other people who do."

   "I don't recall any of Damage's lesser psi's being named Hartman,"
Hector said, thinking hard.  "Actually, I don't remember anyone working for
him named Hartman."

   "Probably using a different name," Dinah said.  "Clay, we can't just
give this kid to the cops.  He'd use pushes to escape."

   "Hannah?  Are you pretty sure what we talked about will work?" Clay
asked.

   "Grandpa Damage did it to about five or six people with the ability. 
None of them had it anymore after that."

   "Okay, then.  Jump in my mind and guide me as I go, Sweet Pea."

   Teddy woke up on the couch about two minutes later.  Clay had actually
finished the job in a few seconds, but then he and Hannah went over it
again and again to make sure they'd done it right.  When they were as
certain as they could be, Clay roused him.  Hector stood over Teddy, his
big hand raised as if he was going to punch the boy out.  Teddy panicked
and tried to push into Hector's mind to stop the blow from landing. 
"Nothing," Hector said as he lowered his hand.  "And I didn't have any of
my blocks up."

   Clay relaxed.  He had been poised to put Hector to sleep if Teddy had
been able to push him.

   "What the fuck did you do to me?" Teddy shrieked.

   "Language!" Hector roared.  "My little girl is right here."

   "Hannah?  Do you have what we need from this boy to find Hartman?"

   "Yes, Mommy."

   "Okay," Dinah said.  "Clay, could you please wipe his mind of all our
names and faces, and of Hannah's existence?"

   "Sure," Clay said.  "You should be able to turn him into the cops.  Just
tell them that Mindwalker had to take him down and the memory loss and loss
of abilities was a side-effect of that.  Actually, getting the word out
that I can take their abilities away might discourage a lot of psi's from
even trying to mess with me."

   After that, everyone went their own separate ways as they did their
jobs. Becky decided she should go back to school.  As she headed out the
door, Clay caught up with her.  "You did it again," he said to her.

   "What?"

   "Saved my life."

   "Not really," Becky said, mimicking the phrase Clay still used
annoyingly often.  "It was Hannah who made it so that I could resist this
guy."

   "Yeah, she saved my ass again, didn't she?" he said with a smile.  "She
pulled an awful lot of useful info out of my dad's head.  But don't think
for a minute that you weren't brave and perfect today either."

   "Thanks, Clay," she said and kissed him before she left.  "Good luck in
Cleveland," she tossed over her shoulder as she opened the car door.  She
turned on the radio and rocked out to "Hey Ya," by Outkast.  As she got
back into the city she couldn't help but smile.  "Damned superheroes," she
said and shook her head, "couldn't get by without me."



   Clay and Hector had rooms in a nice hotel in Cleveland.  Clay didn't
mind spending a little money now and then.  Okay, he spent a lot of money,
but he had a ridiculous amount of it.  His father's bank accounts had
turned out to be like the economy of a small country; actually they kind of
thought that foreign governments were probably the source of all that cash.
Huge amounts of money sometimes disappeared from sight in little
dictatorships and other crooked governments.  The people Cartwell had hired
were amazed when their searches of Brian Teller's accounts kept yielding
more and more cash.  Clay had never worked a regular job in his life, but
he was a billionaire.  Most of his money had since been set aside for
Hannah, but Clay had kept enough to get himself anything he could ever
want.

   Most of what he wanted was improvements in their crimefighting gear. 
Dynamo and Angelo Angel actually had supercars now.  They had never needed
them before, but now they sometimes had to drag Mindwalker along with them.
But the real gem that he had purchased were the lightweight bulletproof
suits.  When they knew they were headed into battle, Dynamo and the Angel
even had bulletproof cowls.  Mindwalker basically had to wear bulky armor
and a big helmet if he thought bullets might be whizzing around.  A shot to
a cowl like the others wore would actually still crack his skull, and even
a body shot might break his ribs or something.  The others just needed to
slow the bullet a little bit.

   "Hector," Clay said as he stopped by the hero's room after unpacking,
"you're still thinking of hitting them around 6 AM, right?"

   "Yeah, bad guys work late hours.  Probably catch them in bed if we move
in at dawn."

   "Okay, that means that we have fourteen hours, and I've never had a
Cleveland girl.  Mind if I go get me a little somethin'-somethin'?"

   "Have at it, my man.  I've got an old friend who works Security at the
Rock `n Roll Hall of Fame.  I'm going to go get myself an after-hours
tour."

   "Sounds cool.  Wake me up at five?"

   "You got it, little man."

   Clay headed out with no idea where he was going to go.  The hotel was in
a very nice neighborhood close to the financial district, not exactly a
place teenage girls were likely to hang out.  Clay would have to ask the
doorman where a boy could pick up chicks.  Good doormen knew things like
that.

   It never quite came to that.  Clay was headed toward the hotel's main
entrance when he felt the urge to glance in through the in-house
restaurant's big window.  The dining room featured a huge tank filled with
colorful exotic fish, and staring into the tank was a girl that Clayton at
first thought he must be imagining.  She was too perfect.  She wore a short
white dress and cute little white cowboy boots and had long flowing blonde
hair.  Her face was familiar, but he couldn't place it at first.  Then it
came to him.  He gasped.

   "Mackenzie Drake," he whispered.  The fourteen-year-old girl's face had
been everywhere lately.  She had already scored a half-dozen number one
hits on the country charts and was the face of a major department store's
new ad campaign.  Plus, she'd been on pretty much every bigtime talk show
in the last couple months.  Clay had seen her, and he had thought about her
quite a bit.  She was incredibly captivating.  Something about her manner
reminded him of Hannah, but the thoughts Clay had about Mackenzie Drake
were of an entirely different nature than those he had about his daughter.
His thoughts were entirely incongruous with the image Mackenzie projected
in the media.  Clay had lusty thoughts about a girl that one magazine had
dubbed "Queen of the Clean Teen Scene."

   "She's famous.  Somebody'll notice somehow," Clay whispered, trying to
talk himself out of something he knew he wasn't going to talk himself out
of.  He'd never gone for a starlet, but then again he'd never met one
face-to-face.  In the end, he didn't have much of an internal debate over
with whether or not it was a good idea.  He was what he was, and this girl
had an allure beyond sheer beauty.  He guessed it was "star quality."

   Clayton entered the restaurant and immediately sensed a malevolent
presence in the room.  A good-looking blonde woman of about forty looked up
at him with fear and loathing in her eyes.  She crossed from her table and
stood in front of Clay.  Clay had seen her in a few photos of Mackenzie. 
The woman was her stepmom, and the media gave her credit for being the one
who kept her daughter so wholesome.  She had placed herself between Clay
and Mackenzie as if she was going to defend the child, but Clay could sense
that there was something entirely different going on.  "Don't you fucking
dare interfere!" the woman hissed.

   Clay cocked his head for a moment.  "You're not really her mother, are
you?"

   "None of your fucking business.  You can have any cute little piece of
ass in the city.  Just walk away and let this one be."

   She was trying with all her might to push into Clay's mind, but she was
no match for him.  "Tell me the whole scheme," he ordered calmly.

   The woman shook with rage and helplessness.  She stood no chance of
overcoming the compulsion he'd put on her.  She gave in and spilled
everything before the pain in her mind became too great.  "I could see what
she was, so I took her from her parents about four years ago.  Then I took
her to the record companies.  She's been a gold mine."

   "You're stealing all the money she's made?"

   "Yes," the woman spat.

   "Did you hurt her beyond that?"

   "No.  No real reason to.  I was getting what I wanted out of it."

   "Okay.  Don't move, and don't yell or mentally reach out to anyone,"
Clay said as he brushed past the woman.

   "Fucker!" she hissed.

   "Mackenzie, look at me," Clay said softly.  He could feel her mind
pushing back slightly against his.  It wasn't a conscious effort.  She
definitely had some latent psionic abilities, but she seemed completely
unaware of them.  Like many others in her position, she came off as
extremely charming and intuitive.  Combine that with her incredible beauty
and tremendous natural voice and you had the perfect recipe for an
adolescent superstar.  "Just stay right there, sweetheart," he said gently.
Mackenzie smiled and nodded.

   "What the hell are you doing in Cleveland?" Clay asked as he turned back
to the woman.

   "I've been looking to add to my stable of clients," she admitted.  "That
Lebron James is going to be the biggest NBA star of the next decade.  He's
going to be mine."

   "No, he's not," Clay said.  "Have you messed with him at all so far?"

   "No.  I have my first-ever meeting with him set for tomorrow."

   "You won't show up," Clay said definitively.  "Besides Mackenzie, is
there anyone else I need to shake free of you?"

   "No," she said.  "She's been taking up all my time for the last two
years."

   "Good.  Here's the deal, woman.  There's a phone number popping into
your head right now.  You are going to call me at that number once a week.
When we talk, you are going to tell me the truth.  If you're hurting
anyone, enslaving anyone, stealing from anyone, I will come and take your
powers completely away from you.  Go to Mackenzie's parents and tell them
that she'll be back with them in a few weeks.  You can use pushes to get
yourself out of trouble there.  I want this all to just go away neatly and
have her home safe and sound."

   "You're crippling me!" the woman said.

   "No, I'm just telling you that you can't be evil with your powers.  Use
your head a little bit, and you'll find that you can make a nice living and
have lots of attractive lovers without hurting anyone.  Mackenzie's coming
with me now.  Don't bother her again.  I'll expect to hear from you in a
week."

   He walked over to the smiling singer.  "She's not in my head anymore!"
the girl said and wrapped her arms around herself in a show of joy and
comfort.

   "No, you're free from her right now.  I will need to poke around in your
head a bit to make sure everything's alright.  Is that okay, Mackenzie?"

   "I like it when you're in my head," she said.  "Oh, and, yes, I would
totally do that, but you'll have to teach me how."

   "You can see what I'm picturing?" Clay asked.  He was taken aback by how
eager the Queen of Clean seemed to participate in things that were contrary
to her public image.

   "Just parts of it," she said, "but I can tell you want to be my
boyfriend for a while, and I totally think that's awesome.  You are like
the coolest guy ever!"

   "And Mackenzie, you are the most beautiful little singer I have ever
seen!"

   "Hold my hand?" she asked as she offered it to him.

   "Absolutely!" he said, picking up on the girl's enthusiasm.  Clay walked
her back up to his room.

   Hector emerged from his room just as Clay was opening the door for the
girl.  "Mackenzie Drake?" he asked as he saw her.  "Damn, Clay."

   "Who's the really handsome guy?" Mackenzie asked.

   "This is my friend, Hector."

   "He looks like an angel or something," Mackenzie sighed, but she didn't
linger.  She just happily walked into the room.

   "Clay, isn't she like...?"

   "The epitome of teen wholesomeness?" Clay asked and waited for Hector's
objections.

   "Did she just kind of push into my brain when she was talking to me?"
Hector asked instead.

   "She's got some latent abilities.  She can kind of charm people, but she
doesn't know that she's doing it."

   "Charmed the hell out of me.  Why didn't my blocks kick in?"

   "Because you didn't want them to.  You liked feeling the things she made
you feel."

   "Hmmm," Hector grunted.  "I sure as hell did, didn't I?"

   "Our little Hannah kind of does the same thing to all of us, Hector.  We
just let her because we love her."

   "Well, I can tell what's gonna happen with you and this one, Clay.  Just
be nice to her, okay?"

   "I will, Hector.  I am definitely letting her charm get through to me
tonight." Clay entered the room and closed the door.

   Mackenzie was sitting in the chair by the window, waiting for him. 
"That was a really nice man," she said.

   "He really is, and he was totally charmed by you."

   "I guess I do that to a lot of men," she said with a shrug.  "I don't
really try to do it, but men have always been really nice to me.  So I kind
of really like them, too.  It all just kind of spins around and we're sweet
to each other.  Cynthia gets all the men to do what she wants, too, but she
isn't nice about it."

   "Mackenzie--"

   "Mac," she said.  "My friends all used to call me Mac."

   "Mac, how much of what Cynthia has done do you understand?"

   "Some of it.  She gets in my brain and makes me do things her way.  And
I'm pretty sure she steals all the money I make from singing and doing
shows and stuff.  I know she made my parents sign things that said I was
her daughter, but we all know she's not.  Still, until you came along I
couldn't tell anyone."

   "I made it so that she can't do any of those things to you or your
parents anymore."

   "I know.  I can tell.  Are you going to send me back to my parents?"

   "Pretty soon, I hope."

   "Good, I think I might like being a singer someday, but not until I grow
up first.  And I really miss my mom," she said, and a tear trickled down
her face.

   "I miss my mom, too," Clay said.

   "There's a really sad story there," Mackenzie said, but she didn't ask
to hear it.  She just crossed to where he was sitting on the edge of the
bed and took his hand.  She seemed to know hearing the actual story would
break her heart, but she still wanted to show him that she cared that he
was sad.  "When you send me back, then I won't see you anymore, right?"

   "Yes, that's probably true, Mac."

   "So, can you be my boyfriend for a little while first?"

   "I would love that," he said.  She climbed into his lap and then kissed
him sweetly on the lips.  "That was a really nice kiss," he told her.

   "My first one," she answered and put her head on his shoulder.  "Can I
be in love with you?"

   "If you promise you won't let it break your heart when you have to go
home," he said.

   "Okay, I promise.  Are you going to be in love with me?"

   "I don't think I can make you the same promise about my heart not
breaking when I send you home."

   She scrunched her nose for a moment.  "Took me a second to figure that
out, but that was a really sweet thing to say," she said.  "So, can you fix
my brain so we can start kissing again?"

   "You're in a hurry," he said.

   "You mean you aren't making me feel this way, the wanting to kiss you
and be your girlfriend?"

   "No, honey, I'm not.  I'll admit I was going to, but I haven't had to do
anything so far."

   "Neat!" she said and smiled.  "Fix my brain!"

   Clay sifted through her mind.  There were a lot of little blocks, mostly
about not telling anyone what was going on, or about not calling home. 
There was an interesting block about not flirting with or kissing any of
the men Cynthia brought home.  Clay thought maybe Cynthia had been a bit
protective of Mac, but in the end he just figured that Cynthia had seen one
too many of her boyfriends driven to distraction by the beautiful starlet.
In all, Cynthia had shown quite a bit of restraint in the way she'd dealt
with the girl.  She'd pushed and changed as little as possible in the hopes
of Mackenzie keeping her charming and vivacious personality intact.  It
really only took Clay a couple minutes to declare Mac completely free. 
That had never been his larger concern anyway.  The girl's powers were the
more interesting and potentially problematic topic.

   "Mac, did you know that you have a little of the kind of power that
Cynthia and I have?"

   "I really do?" It seemed like it had occurred to her but she had
dismissed it.

   "Actually, I think with time and guidance you could probably get up to
about Cynthia's level."

   "I don't want to be like her!" Mac sniffed.

   "You don't have to be.  Look, you know a lot of singers, right?"

   "Tons!" she said with an odd mix of enthusiasm and exasperation. 
"They're an interesting group of people," she added with the same
ambivalence.

   "They all have talent and ability, but some are very sweet and some are
kind of mean, right?"

   "I get what you're saying.  Just because I have the same kind of ability
as Cynthia doesn't mean I have to act the same way."

   "Exactly!" he said.

   "Will you teach me?"

   "Oh, sugar, that would take time," he said.  "Lots of time.  And you'd
have to come stay with me."

   She smiled at first, but then she frowned.  "No, thank you," she said at
last and she slumped into her seat like someone had let the air out of her.
"I want to go see my mom pretty soon."

   "I understand," he said.  "Um, my house has twenty-some rooms, you know.
Your mom and dad could come stay there, too."

   "Clay, true and truly they could?" she said in her interesting manner of
speaking.  Sometimes she seemed like she was the girl in a movie from the
1950's.  But she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again.  "I
really DO love you!"

   "Mac, it is totally silly for me to say this to you so soon, but I think
I love you, too." He knew what was happening.  He'd intentionally let his
guard down so that he could bask in the warmth of her charm.  A boy
couldn't help but fall in love with her when she was cranking out the
oodles of it she was now.  Even without her abilities, a girl this
beautiful and sweet declaring her love would sweep a boy off his feet. 
With the charm at full power she was irresistible, not that Clay had had
any intention of resisting her anyway.

   Mac pushed into him with her slender arms and he playfully flopped onto
the bed.  "You are like huge!" she declared.  "You're taller than my daddy
from what I can remember."

   "I'm six-three," he said.

   "But I got you," she replied and pinned his arms to the bed as she
straddled his chest.  "Say Mac is the queen, or I'll dig my spurs into your
sides!" She didn't actually have spurs on her boots, but Clay surrendered
anyway.

   "Mackenzie Drake is queen of the world," he said with a smile.

   "I'm not Mackenzie Drake anymore," she said as she wagged a scolding
finger.  "My real last name is Mokowski.  Drake was Cynthia's stage name
for me."

   "Mac Mokowski is queen of the whole universe," he said, "but she can't
escape my dreadful counterattack."

   "Yes, I can," she said confidently.

   "No one escapes the tickle technique!" he cried and found her ribs
beneath the white fabric of her dress.

   She squealed and rolled off of him, but she clung to his arm and pulled
him over on top of her as she rolled to her back.  He settled in on top of
her, and she tried to spread her legs to embrace his hips, but she got a
little caught in her dress.  She groaned and tried to roll.  Clay let her
up.  Mac showed no hesitation as she pulled the dress off over her head and
stood before him in just a slip and cowgirl boots.  She slid out of the
boots and stood quietly for a moment.  Clay just waited to see what she had
in mind.  "Am I sexy?" she asked.  "I mean I've been kind of trained not to
think of myself that way, but deep inside I'm a normal high school freshman
girl.  I think most girls that age want people to see them as sexy.  Am I?"

   "Yes, Mac, way sexier than maybe a girl ever ought to be.  Part of it is
the charm ability you have, but most of it is just the way you act and look
and sound."

   "So, you kind of want me to finish taking off my clothes," she said.  It
wasn't a question.  She was just putting things together at her own pace.

   "Yeah, sweetheart, I really do."

   "But you still have all yours on.  Catch up to me," she said with a
smile.

   Clay stood up on the other side of the bed and kicked off his shoes and
pulled his socks off of his feet.  He then removed his shirt and his slacks
and stood in just a t-shirt and his boxer-briefs.  He held his hands out to
the side to show her he reckoned he was caught up.

   "You kind of have some muscles," she said as her eyes traced over him.
"I couldn't really tell that before.  You really are huge."

   "Not really."

   "Okay," she said, biting her lip, "turn around and undress the rest of
the way while I do the same thing."

   Clay knew what was coming.  He didn't need any psi abilities for that.
He went along with it anyway.  He turned around and shucked the rest of his
clothes off just as she'd asked.  "Ready?" he asked.

   "Yep," she said a little too easily.  When Clay turned to face her, she
was still wearing the slip.  "Gotcha!" she cried and giggled.

   "You got me the second I laid eyes on you," he said.

   It took a second for that one to register with her.  She smiled.  "You
say really sweet things," she said.  Then her eyes were drawn to Clay's
midsection.  "Holy cow," she whispered.  "I never saw a boy's wiener."

   "What do you think?" he asked.

   "It's gonna hurt some," she said softly.  "But I could kind of see in
your mind what it was gonna be like after that.  You know, from those
flashes in my head.  Will it really feel that good when we do it?"

   "I can make sure that it does, honey.  Most guys can't, but that's one
of the special things I can do for you."

   "Okay," she whispered.  She pulled off the slip and the little pink
panties she'd been wearing beneath it.  "I don't have much for boobies,"
she said as she blushed at his gaze.  She was long and thin, though.

   "You have a beautiful body, Mac.  Absolutely gorgeous."

   She thought for a second and then asked, "Can you see what I want to
have happen next?"

   "I can't really read people very well," he said.

   She concentrated for a bit.  "How about now?"

   "That I saw, Mac.  You can send images pretty well." She really was
packing quite a bit of power, more than he'd first realized.  He made the
sweet image she'd sent him become a reality.  He put one knee on the bed
and leaned forward as she did the same from the other side.  Their lips met
in the middle and she kissed him.

   "I like the kissing, Clay."

   "Me too."

   She kissed him again and then brought her other knee up onto the bed. 
Clay did the same.  They scooted together and both knelt upright.  Clay
bent down to keep kissing her warm, soft lips.  When he touched his tongue
to them she hesitated for a second and then brought hers out to give his
lips a little touch.  Soon enough, the tongues met and she darted hers into
his mouth.  Something in that really must have felt good to the girl,
because she threw her arms around his chest and pulled him in close.  She
rested her head on his shoulder.  Clay had risen up to take her in his
arms, and when he did so, his erection pressed against her belly.  "Oh,
wow," she whispered as his shaft slid into an upright position between
their tummies.  "Clay, can we just do it right now?" she asked.  "The more
we wait, the scared-er I'm gonna get."

   "Well, in a minute.  I want to make sure you're ready for it." He
slipped a hand down and dipped into her tight folds a little bit, but found
that he could barely slide his finger into her at all before hitting her
hymen.  It was very close to the surface.  She moaned softly.  "Like it?"
he asked softly.

   "Oh god, Clay.  I could always feel that lots of men and boys wanted to
touch me down there, but I never let them until I met you.  It feels so
good when you do it.  I know I really love you, now."

   Clay knew that love was more complicated than somebody making you feel
good, but he also figured that Mac's feelings for him actually were more
complicated.  That made him feel protective of her.  So did her abilities.
He knew he'd have to teach her how to contain her charm a little bit.  She
could drive good men to insanity with it, and she could drive bad men to
want to hurt her.  He'd be willing to bet that Cynthia had been forced to
intervene in one way or another fairly often.  She wouldn't have done it to
protect the girl, but she would have done it to protect the investment.

   "You still have your cherry intact, Mac.  This is all completely new to
you, isn't it?"

   "Yeah," she said softly.  "It's gonna hurt at first, isn't it?"

   "Yes, baby girl, it still will hurt a little bit," he said and stroked
her blonde hair.  "But something tells me that a girl with the kind of
power you have is probably pretty well-equipped to handle what it's going
to make happen.  I don't think nature made any mistakes with you."

   She thought about what he'd said for a moment.  She sometimes had
trouble following the way he phrased things.  Cynthia must have kept men
and boys from flirting with her.  Or maybe she'd made it so Mac was a bit
oblivious to it.  Now, she was thinking about what Clay had said about her
body being suited to the desire her charm was going to create in men. 
"There was a man once," she said cautiously, "he was trying to corner me,
but Cynthia caught him and stopped him.  He kept telling me that I was
`made for fucking.' Is that what you mean?  I was made for fucking?"

   "Maybe, Mac."

   "And that's not a bad thing?"

   "No, honey.  I don't think so.  I think it might turn out to be a
wonderful thing for you once we get your powers all lined up."

   "Good," she said, "because I want to do it, Clay.  I want to do it real
bad." She looked down for a minute, her face had started to turn red.  "I'm
not a tramp, Clay.  I just...  I kind of have a few years of being old
enough to want to have a boyfriend all bottled up in me, and it's coming
out like a bullet from a barrel.  It's like my body and my heart want to
catch up on everything they've been missing."

   "Okay then," he said with a little smile.  "Let's do it then.  Put your
arms around my neck and wrap your legs around my waist." He was kneeling
upright in the middle of the king-sized bed, and Mackenzie did as he asked.
He grabbed his erection and steadied it.  "Lower yourself down," he told
her.

   Mac let her weight begin to drop.  She was light as a feather to Clay.
He felt the very tip of him slip past her moistened folds, and then she
stopped moving.  "I'm kind of stuck," she whispered and seemed embarrassed.
Clay just smiled and took her by the hips.  He pushed her down as he rose
up slightly.  He felt her little cherry spread out before him as he pushed
through and settled a couple inches inside of her.  "Ow-a!" she cried
softly, but did not scream.  She shed a few small tears.  "Is that the
worst part?" she asked.

   "Yes, baby."

   "It wasn't so bad," she said as she squeezed her arms around his neck.
"What do I do now?"

   "When you're ready, just lower your weight some more, and then bring it
back up and slide up and down until it feels like we can go faster." She
followed his instructions.  She would gasp in surprise or even the
beginnings of delight as she found the way to take him ever deeper inside
of her.  Her tight pussy grabbed and clutched at his cock the same way her
arms maintained a fierce grip around his neck.  Clay didn't push at all,
either physically or mentally.  He was letting this supremely talented girl
find her own path to pleasure.  He did not have to seek pleasure for
himself.  As wonderful as her tight sheath felt around his shaft, her lanky
body clinging to him and the ease with which his hands could wrap around
her hips and bottom felt just as good.  Mac was a thing of wonder, just
holding her was more of a thrill than Clay had felt with most girls.

   But something about her drove him to want to keep exploring her body. 
Without even really thinking about it, he slipped one of his fingers to the
tiny opening in her bottom and slowly began to work it in.  Her reaction
was merely to moan with a slight yummy sound.  Clay began to realize that
either her body didn't experience much pain at sexual probing or her mind
interpreted slight pain as pleasure.  Within a moment, he was rather
vigorously pumping the finger into her past the first knuckle.  That drew a
stronger response.  "That's really dirty," she whispered, "but I don't
care."

   Clay pulled his head back so that he could see her face.  He looked into
her eyes and saw more than just the childlike adoration he had seen there
before.  He saw hunger and lust.  "Oh, Mac, you sexy little thing," he
said.

   "I was built for fucking," she said without reservation.  With that came
a push into Clay's mind.  He let it slip in.  She was asking to be taken
with passion.  She began to rise and fall on his cock with far greater
speed than before.  She was far more lithe and nimble than Clay had
realized.  She could use the way her body was draped around him to propel
herself in any direction and with more speed and force than he'd imagined
she ever could.  And, despite the fact that he had grown bigger than most
adult males, she was working her way ever closer to bottoming out and
taking his whole cock inside of her.  She was working his shaft over like
only one girl ever had before, but she had been a twenty-year-old
superheroine, not a fourteen-year-old starlet.  Mackenzie couldn't quite
match Dinah physically, but she had a spirit that embraced fucking like
none Clay had ever encountered.  He abandoned any attempts to drive into
her.  He didn't want to disrupt her perfect timing and almost frighteningly
passionate efforts.  He focused instead on working a second finger into her
tight asshole.  This was definitely heading in the direction where she
would need to be loosened up a bit.

   "God, you're so hot!" he exclaimed as she rode him with a tireless
ferocity.  "Absolutely amazing!"

   Mac leaned back and smiled for a second, and then she gazed directly
into his eyes.  She was pushing, this time on purpose.  Clay felt a sudden
warmth in his shaft, and he felt her walls clamp ever tighter around it. 
He started to swell inside her, and he felt as if he might burst in
ecstasy. After all this time, someone was pushing Clay's button the way he
had pushed so many girls'.  Mackenzie probably didn't quite know what would
happen, but her instincts had told her to do it, and she was learning to
trust her instincts.  Clay felt tremendous pressure build up at the base of
his shaft, and for a few seconds the pleasure was so intense that he
thought he might pass out.  Then, suddenly he felt everything open up.  He
wasn't sure of what exactly happened in the next few seconds, but he was
pretty sure that he actually heard a splat as the first burst from the end
of his cock fired deep into the starlet's sex.  Never had he cum so
furiously and with so much volume.  His mind reeled as he couldn't seem to
control anything in his body.  His fingers slipped from Mackenzie's bottom
as he clutched her hips and tipped over to his side.  She clung to him,
keeping her sex pressed all the way to his hips, taking him as deep as he
could go.

   Whether it was a reflex or a choice Clay was never certain, but he
returned Mackenzie's push with one of his own.  She didn't thrash about or
scream.  She just wrapped her arms and legs ever more tightly around him
and squeezed as she emitted a high-pitched wordless squeak followed by a
dozen or so hard pants.  Then, she suddenly relaxed and went limp, draping
her lithe body across him as he remained motionless.  They both took a long
time to recover their breath.  "Is it always...?" she asked at last.

   "Not really," he said.  "We're kind of both special, and we just
rebounded off one another so much that it turned into that."

   "Wowie," she said and managed a giggle.  "I could totally do that
again!"

   "Right now?" he asked, uncertain of whether he was quite ready to go
just yet.

   "In a minute, I meant," she replied.  "But pretty soon."

   "Pretty soon I can handle," he said as he began to feel reinvigorated by
her presence in his arms.  They held one another until she began to kiss
his neck and he began to trail a finger up and down her back.  Soon, the
kisses became more urgent and the strokes became massages.  Then, the
kisses became playful nips and the massages began to center on the most
sensitive places on their bodies.

   Not long after Clay began sucking on her little breasts, Mac's breaths
became short and she began furiously pumping his cock and pulling it toward
her.  He began to line up to take her in missionary position, but she
rolled to her belly and reached over to the nightstand, opened the drawer
and grabbed the lube he had left there.  "I saw what you wanted to do," she
said as she handed him the tube.  Clay took it and began to work the clear
gel into her backside.  It was still just a little bit open from his finger
probing her before.  With any other girl this size, Clay wouldn't have
tried this on her very first time.  With Mac, he had no doubt that she
could not only take it but would derive great pleasure from it.  He'd given
way to the notion that she was indeed built for fucking.

   When he had her ready, he pinned her hips down to the mattress and she
reached back to line him up with her opening.  His fingers had loosened
her, and unlike most of the anal virgins Clay had taken, he didn't need to
urge her to relax.  She instinctively did what she needed to do to take him
inside of her.  Still, it was slow work.  She groaned slightly as he
carefully worked his way into her.  This was the tightest fit Clay had ever
experienced, but he simply had no fear of hurting her as long as he did it
right, took his time.  And he made sure she took hers, too.  He'd had a
girl or two get anxious and thrust herself onto him just to get it over
with.  That was why he now chose to pin girls' hips down as he did this to
them for the first time.  He wouldn't hurt them, and he wouldn't let them
hurt themselves.

   "Oh, I like it," she moaned.  "You're pressing on something inside my
cunny from behind.  It feels good."

   "I'm going to roll us over," he said.  In a moment she was on top of
him, and his hand slid over her hip and gently massaged her clit.

   "Oh wow!" she said in a dreamy voice.  She began to wiggle and work her
way further onto him.  "Push it in, Clay.  I'm okay."

   Clay began to slowly fuck her ass.  Mac's slender fingers reached down
and she dug her nails into the side of his hip.  He thought she was in pain
for a second, but then he realized she was putting the spurs to him.  He
picked up the pace.  "You sexy little thing," he repeated.

   Mackenzie started to moan a little louder.  "Clay," she said after a few
moments.  "I wanna holler."

   "Go ahead, baby."

   She began to moan loudly and made a little half-grunt half-scream sound.
She'd throw in an occasional word or two.  "Good!" "Like it!" "So big!" She
pushed his hand out of the way and began to work her own sex far more
savagely than he would have done it.  He slid the hand up to her chest and
massaged what little breast he could find there.  She dropped her mouth
down and bit him lightly on the arm.  It didn't really hurt, but it was
sexy as hell to see her so worked up by their efforts.  The girl did
everything just right, and the physical pleasure of her impossibly tight
ass squeezing his cock as he moved in and out of its warmth was incredible.

   Clay began to feel that she was going to cum without any special help
from him, and he decided that he was just going to let it happen.  But as
she got close to her climax, she pushed into Clay's brain again, and again
he instinctively pushed back.  This time she was wild and loud when she
went over.  She sat upright and bounced on him until she curled up into a
ball and then released herself, crashing her slim body back down onto him.
A grown woman or even most of the middle school girls might have knocked
the wind out of him with a move like that, but with Mac being so light it
only brought joy.  Seeing her in pleasure made Clay feel proud of himself.
He was giving joy to a girl whose very existence brought him joy.  As his
pride swelled, so did his cock.  Once again, he felt the pressure build up
until he nearly passed out and then felt the ecstasy of releasing his seed
into her incredibly warm body.  He went black for a second, unable to feel
anything but the intense pleasure of loving this girl, and then Clay
actually did what Melanie had done so many times upon receiving one of his
hard pushes.  He passed out.

   He knew he could have only been out for a few seconds, but when he
awoke, Mac wasn't in his arms.  He opened his eyes to search for her, but
he didn't have to look very long.  She was sidling in next to him on the
bed, a bottle of water from the fridge in her hand.  She handed it to him
with a smile.  Clay thought for a moment that she was too good to be true.
He took a sip of the icy water.  It felt good on his tongue and back of his
mouth.  Then the bottle slipped from his hands and everything went white
for a second.  He thought he heard a sob, but then he heard nothing and saw
nothing.  He was out cold.

   Clay had no concept of time when he awoke.  He wasn't sure if he'd been
out for minutes or hours.  He saw Mackenzie, still naked, sitting at the
table of the hotel room and holding the phone in her hand.  He wasn't sure
what was going on, but he was damned sure going to find out.  He pushed
hard at her mind, telling her to explain everything.  "It won't work," she
said with a bit of a sob.  "I can't push very much, except for making
people love me and want to touch me, but I can block like crazy."

   "You pushed hard enough to make me black out for a couple seconds," he
said.

   "That was you," she said.  "I pushed some of your push back into you
along with a second push of my own.  I wasn't trying to knock you out then,
just wanted to make you feel as incredible as you made me feel."

   "What the hell is going on, Mac?"

   "I'm not making a phone call I'm supposed to make," she said.  "They
were making me do it, but now I can't.  I can't let them hurt you, even for
the nice lady."

   "The nice lady?" Clay asked.

   "They can't really push me," she said as she wiped a tear from her eye,
"but they can hurt people I love."

   "Your parents?"

   "I don't even remember them.  They died when I was little.  I was with
my nasty aunt until one of the bad ladies passed me on the street and then
`adopted' me from her.  Cynthia got put in charge of making me into a star.
They wanted me to be able to get close to rich and powerful people and
charm them so that then they could get close to them and control them. 
Clay, I'm supposed to perform at the White House next month."

   "How the hell did Cynthia fool me?  She's not that strong!"

   "The other ladies worked on her.  Cynthia honestly believed everything
she said.  It's one of the best ways to fool a really strong psi."

   "Damn," Clay said.  "I never even thought of that." He scooted down to
the edge of the bed.  He was feeling in much better control of his limbs.
"Why didn't you call them?" he asked and took her hand.

   "Because I like you, maybe I even love you.  I wasn't lying about any of
those things, Clay." She noticed his skeptical look.  "You're gonna just
have to believe me," she said.

   "I believe you, but you're only telling me part of it."

   "Because I'm afraid you're going to not believe the next part," she
said. She looked terrified.  Either she was in deep trouble or she was an
incredible actress.  Clay couldn't push her to tell him the truth, but he
definitely did have her charm blocked out.  The only powers she held over
him were the powers any vulnerable and weeping girl would have over a kind
soul.  Of course, those powers were considerable.

   "Just tell me," he said.

   "I need your help.  I only lied to you because they threatened to hurt
the nice lady.  But you could rescue her.  You could get her out of there.
You could make them stop hurting people, and you could set me free."

   "That's a lot to swallow," he said.

   "Does that mean it's hard to believe?"

   "Yes."

   "That's what I thought you meant," she said miserably.

   "Who's the nice lady?" Clay asked.

   "I don't know," she said.  "They call her Veronica, but she knows that
isn't her real name.  She just can't remember who she really is.  They
won't let her.  They've had her almost as long as they've had me.  She
takes care of me when I'm not out on the road with Cynthia."

   "And you did all this to me in order to protect her?"

   "If you'd ever met her you'd understand, Clay.  She's the nicest lady I
ever met.  When I talk about missing my mommy I'm really talking about
missing her."

   "How's she tied up in this then?" he asked.

   "They call her the `secret weapon', but she doesn't know why."

   "Probably has some really nasty psi ability that they're blocking her
from using," he said with a shrug.  "I guess I'll find out."

   "Don't you dare hurt her!" Mac yelled and rose up to stand face-to-face
with him.  "I'm trusting you, dammit!" She froze for a second after that.
"Sorry, I cussed at you," she said quietly.

   "You used the F-word before," he said.

   "Yeah, but that wasn't AT you.  There's a difference, you know."

   Something in that did it for Clay.  Maybe she was fooling him again. 
Maybe she truly was the best little actress in the world.  But Clay just
didn't buy that.  Her story was too hard to believe.  There were so many
lies that would have been more effective, simpler.  But there was something
that didn't make sense.  "How did they know I was here?" he asked.  "How
did they know I was coming?"

   "They talk about you all the time.  You scare them.  They figured you'd
come after them sooner or later.  They watch your house all the time, and I
think they have something on your cars."

   "So, they not only knew I was in town, but exactly which hotel I was
staying at," he said.  "They put you right out in front of me, and I took
the bait."

   "But now they won't get you," she said, taking his hand.  "Now their
plan fell apart."

   "No it didn't," he said decisively.  "Make the call.  I have one of my
own to make." He went to his pants and got out his cell phone.  He made his
call and Mac listened in.  When he hung up, she smiled and made her call.
The hunters had just become the hunted.



   Dean Hartman had known that his little starlet wouldn't poison Clayton
Teller no matter what threat was made against the woman she loved like a
mother.  So, he'd merely asked her to knock him out so that he could be
captured.  But that would never actually happen.  What the hell could
Hartman do where Damage had failed?  Capturing someone with Clay's power
was sheer folly.  Hartman had four men coming to the room.  One would take
the girl back to the car.  She was dangerous, but his very best men had
been trained to block psi's with minimal pushing ability.  Mackenzie Drake
could make any other man into a little puddle of drool, but Hartman's top
boys could keep her out.  Her power only worked on those unable to block at
all or those willing to let her in.  He would gamble that Clayton Teller
would let her in.

   Once the girl was gone, there would be no capture, just a quick and
efficient kill.  Clayton Teller was the one thing that had worried Dean
Hartman for the last three years.  Sooner or later that boy was going to
connect him to Damage.  In the end, it was that idiot Teddy who had done
it. He'd gotten some info from one of Hartman's lesser henchmen, a man who
never should have known the info in the first place, but little leaks
happen.  The henchman was gone, now.  "Ain't gonna see him no more." Some
of Hartman's friends in prison would have to pay that idiot Teddy a visit
and make sure he never fouled up another plan.

   But Teddy had done what he did and led Clayton Teller to Hartman.  Now
the gangster had every reason to believe that Teller was going to seek him
out for bloody revenge.  Hartman had been part of the organization that had
arranged the "accident" that took Teller's mother from him.  Even with all
his surveillance and preparation, Hartman knew he was damned lucky to get a
chance to eliminate the boy.  He'd thought about it before, but any kind of
foul-up would have led to a visit from the most powerful psi Hartman had
ever heard of, and the visit wasn't likely to be a social call.  But now,
it was all over.  The drugged psi was just meat now, a hog to be butchered
by the type of men who did that thing.

   Four men walked into the room as Mackenzie let them in.  They didn't
make eye contact with her.  Her big blue eyes were pretty damned powerful
weapons on their own.  One of the men grabbed her by the arm and whisked
her toward the car.  The other three approached the figure sleeping
face-down on the bed.  They raised their pistols in unison.  They never
really quite saw what hit them next.  There was a flash of white,
excruciating pain and then blackness.  A huge figure towered over them and
then pulled his white cowl up over his face.  He was on the fourth man
before the elevator doors had even opened.  The hired gun wouldn't be
taking Mac down to the parking garage.

   "Thanks, Hec--um Mr.  Angel," she said and kissed him on the cheek.

   "My pleasure, sweetheart," he said as he fished the keys out of the
man's pocket.  "You have the key to my room, right?" he asked.

   "Yessir."

   "Good.  These guys will be asleep in Clay's room.  My wife taught me
some very effective ways to tie them up and gag them.  Even if they come to
before we're back, they can't move or get to you, okay?"

   "Neat," she said with a smile.

   "Dinah's on her way.  She should be here in about an hour.  Don't open
the door for anyone but her." He turned to go, but then he turned back one
more time.  He just had to look at her again.  He was blocking her charm,
but damn!

   Mac blushed and then got a very serious look on her face.  "Be careful,"
she said.  "You can handle the guys with guns, but there's four psi ladies
you'll have to block out."

   "Clay can handle them," Hector assured her.

   "Then go save the nice lady," she said.  She kissed him on the cheek
again.  She loved Clay, but when she looked at Hector, well, damn!

   The two parted ways.  Hector took the sixteen flights of steps down to
the parking garage.  Elevators were so damned slow.  Clay was hiding in the
shadows of the parking garage in his full Mindwalker body armor.  Hector
stopped when Clay whispered his name.  "Did you see which car it was?"
Hector asked.

   "Yeah.  I should have just taken them out down here," he said.

   "No.  Getting them to the room made it easier to stash them until we
decide what we're doing to them, I mean doing with them."

   "Let's go take these fuckers out," Clay said.

   "And save the nice lady," Hector added.

   "Sure, if she really turns out to be nice at all.  Mac might have just
been fooled by her.  These are pretty clever people.  They might have just
programmed the lady to be nice to her."

   Both heroes walked to the driver's side of the car.  "I have the keys,"
Hector said.

   "You hardly ever drive anywhere.  I'm a way better driver."

   "In that get-up?"

   "Point taken." Clay clumsily lowered his armored body into the
passenger's seat.

   They arrived at the house on a hillside in the Cleveland suburbs about
forty minutes later.  The gate guards let them in after a little push from
Clay.  As Hector pulled up the drive, Clay put the guards to sleep.  The
presence of the bad guys' car almost certainly hadn't really fooled anyone,
but the heroes weren't sure where the tracking device was on their own
vehicle.  Things might have been uglier if Hartman had been watching them
and preparing for their approach for the last half hour.  Hector sprang
into action the second he pushed the door open.  Five armed men had been
rushing toward the door already.  The invaders had probably been on video
since entering the gate.  Hector eliminated them all before a shot was
fired.  Clay liked watching him work, as much as he could follow it.  Clay
had eliminated the man with a rifle who had taken a position on the second
story foyer.

   "It's gonna be messy in there," Clay said as he looked up toward the
second-floor study where he could sense his enemies waiting for him.  "Keep
your blocks up."

   "This ain't my first rodeo with psi's, little man."

   "Let's rock," Clay said.

   "Lame catch phrase attempt," Hector responded and then bounded up
through the doors with a loud and very impressive crash.  Clay hurried up
the steps as quickly as he could go.

   Hector was standing still in the middle of the room.  Hartman stood with
four women behind him, and he held a gun to the head of a fifth woman.  She
had a bag over her face.

   "So, you're Dean Hartman now, Carl?" Hector said.  "I should have known
it was you, ya vicious little bastard."

   "I know you're fast, Diablo," the man said to the hero who hadn't
answered to that name for over three years.  "But are you that fast?"

   When Clay entered the room, he saw the situation and stopped.  "He's
that fast," Hector said and jerked a thumb toward the boy.

   "Ah, Mindwalker!" Hartman said with a smile.  "You could take me out
before I squeezed the trigger, but can you do it with four psi's blocking
you?"

   "I reckon I can," he said.

   "Sounds like a sliver of doubt, Clayton Teller," Hartman said.  "But
still probably a risk worth taking.  Let's see what the stakes are."
Hartman pulled the hood back from the trembling woman.  Brown hair tumbled
down, obscuring the pretty face for a moment, but when she whipped her head
back, Clay nearly fell to his knees in shock.  "My secret weapon," Hartman
said with a vicious grin.

   "Clay?  Is that?"

   "My mom," Clay said softly.  "How?"

   "The ladies here blocked your perception at the hospital, and they
forced the medical staff and your friends to believe she was dead.  Damage
wanted to keep her around as a means of controlling you if you got too
powerful.  So, we sedated her and put her in the car after the teacher had
already crashed it."

   "You're my son?" Rae asked.  "I-I can't remember anything before I got
here."

   "And you never will, Veronica," Hartman said.  "Let us make our escape
right now, Mindwalker, or she takes a bullet to the brain.  Even you and
Diablo can't fix that."

   Clay stared at his mother for a second.  She didn't dare nod, but she
blinked.  Clay knew she would trust him.

   Hector tried to keep the situation from escalating before Clay did
whatever he would do.  "Carl, it doesn't have to be like this," Hector
said. "We can make a deal.  Give us Clay's mom and we'll let you go."

   "That doesn't even make sense!" Hartman snapped.  "Are you stal--"
Hartman never finished the sentence.  Rae gasped slightly, and then the gun
slipped from Hartman's hand and he crashed to the floor.  He landed on his
knees but his upper body flopped backwards, one arm trapped beneath him and
the other flung out to the side.  The gangster's glassy eyes were open, and
his face was frozen in a twisted grimace.

   "How did you do that?" one of the women cried in alarm.  "We had him
shielded from you!"

   "But not from Mom," Clay said.  "And I know her brain.  When she lets me
I can walk through her mind like it's my own."

   "Is he dead?" another of the women asked in horror.

   "I didn't have time to be subtle.  He made that happen," Clay said as if
he really didn't care.  He did.  He'd never killed before, but the man's
blocks and the route Clay had to take to smash them before Hartman could
pull the trigger had made delicate work impossible.  Plus, he'd been
holding a gun to Rae's head.  He didn't get any breaks.

   "They're pushing me, Clay," Hector groaned, "hard!"

   Clay grimaced with effort, but only for a few seconds.  They weren't a
match for him.  Had he been as skilled three years ago, they would have
failed to fool him in the hospital.  One of the women turned toward Rae
with a look of furious effort on her face.  Rae didn't even blink.  "You
have no power at all, ladies," Clay said.  "It's completely gone. 
Actually, I'm surprised you're not all vegetables.  You people keep making
me rush things."

   Hector grabbed two of the women under each arm.  He used one of the
tricks Dinah had taught him.  He squeezed until all four passed out.  He
tied them up and gagged them before they came back around.  He stooped over
one of the women.  "Sorry about the cracked rib," he said.  "But you were
messing with my family."

   Rae Teller stood in the middle of the room, weeping.  "Mac?  Did you
boys hurt my little sweetheart?"

   "Mac helped us, Mom."

   "I'm sorry," she said and sobbed.  "I can't remember you.  Take that
awful helmet off.  You look like an alien or something.  Let me see your
face."

   Clay took the helmet and the mask off as Hector moved to the door to
keep a lookout and listen for more henchmen.  "The ones that are left are
running away.  I'd better go get them," he said and was gone in a blur of
white.  Rae gasped.

   Clay fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his mother's waist.
"I'm Clayton Teller, Mom.  I'm your son, and you're name is Rae."

   "I knew it wasn't Veronica!" she said.  She picked up Clay's face so
that she could look into his eyes.  "Clay, you are a handsome boy, but I
don't remember you."

   "These people have special powers, Mom.  So do Hector and I and Mac, and
a couple other people you'll meet soon.  The people here blocked your
memories, but I think I can fix that.  Come on away from this room."

   They sat on the top step of the grand staircase.  Rae Teller turned so
that she was face-to-face with the boy she couldn't remember.  He gently
placed his hands on her temples and sniffed back a few tears.  Then he went
to work.  The blocks were very complex, and they had many different
fingerprints on them.  Clay tried to keep her in sort of a trance until he
was finished.  If he brought it back in pieces, she might get excited or
confused and make his job far more difficult.  He should have been able to
finish the job in thirty seconds, but he was so careful and delicate it
probably took him five full minutes.

   His trance left her with a serene look on her face.  He'd given her an
image of Mackenzie singing on which to focus.  Finally satisfied that he
had done everything right, he lifted the last set of the memory blocks in
quick succession.  Rae's serene expression changed to one of confusion, as
if she was having five people trying to tell her different things all at
once.  She squeezed her eyes closed against the flood of images, but after
about twenty seconds her eyelids began to flutter.  Then, she regained
focus and took in her surroundings.  At last, she focused on the hopeful
face in front of her.  "Oh, Clay," she sobbed, "Oh my baby boy!" She
wrapped her arms around him and clung to him nearly as tightly as he clung
to her.

   "I missed you so much, Mommy," he said feeling every bit the little boy
he sounded.  "I missed you so much."

   "Oh my god, Clay!" she exclaimed.  "You got so huge!"

   "Not really," he said.

   "It's so good to hear those two annoying words again!" she said and they
broke into a fit of laughing and crying at the same time.  Suddenly, Rae
sat upright.  She swallowed hard.  "I remember seeing your father, and
then...  Brent's dead isn't he?"

   "Dad murdered him, Mom.  He turned evil.  When these people talked about
Damage, Dad was the one they were talking about."

   "Brian was Damage?  God, Clay, he got mean near the end, but I never
dreamt he could become that.  Did he hurt anyone else we love?  Becky? 
Dinah?"

   "They're beautiful, fine and happy.  You just met Dinah's husband."

   "That big man?  He was Angelo Angel, wasn't he?"

   "Yeah, Hector Marquez to those of us who love him.  You're going to love
the stuffing out of him."

   "Angelo Angel married our Dinah?"

   "Yep."

   "Kind of makes sense," Rae said and nodded.

   "Doesn't make sense to me," a deep voice said from the base of the
steps. "She's totally out of my league.  Rae, I'm Hector," he said as he
approached them.  "It would be an understatement to say it's an unexpected
pleasure to meet you." He pulled his cowl back.

   Rae looked at his handsome face and gentle brown eyes.  "I doubt anyone
is out of your league, Hector," she said.  Then she giggled and turned to
Clay.  "He always blush like that?" she asked.

   "Big man is kind of shy," Clay said.

   "Look, Clay, the rest of the henchmen are rounded up, and Dinah's taking
care of Mac and the other guys at the hotel.  Becky's with Hannah.  Why
don't you two have a chat?  I think you have some catching up to do while I
sort this out with the cops."

   "Who's Hannah?" Rae asked Hector.

   "Like I said, you two have some catching up to do." Hector moved past
them and into the room with Carl Mertz's body.  Before he'd become Dean
Hartman, Mertz had managed many delicate affairs for Damage.  Hector
unfolded the tangled corpse so that the dead man didn't seem to be in such
an unnatural position.  Hector closed the man's eyes.  He hated to see even
a vicious bastard like Carl Mertz twisted all up like that, and the dead
eyes were unnerving.  Then Hector went out the back door and circled round
to meet the cops at the gate.  He tried not to eavesdrop on the mother and
son, but he couldn't help hearing.  A few of the things they said made him
cry.  But the Tellers were so happy to be together again that most of their
exchanges made him laugh.

   "Clayton Teller!  The last thing I told you was that I was too young to
be a grandma!"

   "To be fair Mom, I'd already knocked Dinah up before you said that!"

   "And now Hector and Dinah are raising my granddaughter, Hannah?"

   "It's easier to explain that a twenty-year-old girl had a baby with a
thirty-year-old man than with a thirteen-year-old boy!"

   "And you all live in a big house together?"

   "Yep.  A Catholic, a Jew and an atheist were raising a child together,"
Clay started.  "I know there's a joke there somewhere, but I've had three
years to work on it and haven't come up with the punchline."

   A little while later Hector heard Rae ask when she could go home. 
Clayton happily told her that they could leave right away if they wanted
to, but that they'd have to go to his new house.  "I sold the old one, Mom.
It hurt too much to even visit there."

   "My beautiful house?" she said.  "I loved that house.  I bought it with
my own money.  Please tell me you got at least $250,000 for it.  It was
worth that."

   "Um, actually I let it go cheap."

   "Oh, Clayton!"

   "A nice little family got a beautiful home out of the deal.  And money
isn't that much a concern for me.  I'm a billionaire, now, Mom," he said
softly.

   "Did you swindle someone?" she asked with a scold in her voice.

   "No.  The money came from Dad.  We don't know what he did to get it or
who it came from.  We think he probably stole it from foreign governments."

   "It seems wrong," she said quietly.  "BILLIONaire?" she then asked with
a little more enthusiasm.

   "Yeah, Mom."

   "Well, you do have a child's college fund to think of.  Who knows what
that will cost in...  what year is it now?"

   "2004, Mom."

   "2004, and Hannah's three, so in 2019 she'll be heading off to college.
Yep, maybe it's best we keep the money." She was quiet for a moment.  Then
she suddenly asked.  "What's happening on Buffy?"

   "Um, the show's over, Mom.  And Angel got cancelled, too.  Whedon had
another great series called Firefly, but they cancelled that, too.  It was
a Western in space."

   "Sounds horrible."

   "You'd have to see it to understand how good it was.  I have the DVD's."

   "I missed so much, Clay.  You're almost all grown up now."

   "Not really.  Some days it feels that way," he said with a sigh, "but
other days I'm so fucked up.  And for the last few years even when I was
happy, I was sad, too, because you weren't there."

   "But we can be happy now, right?" she said.

   "Yeah, Mom, right here and now, this is the happiest I've ever been."

   At the gate, Hector hoped he could stop crying before the cops got
there. He doubted he could have, but the Tellers managed to crack him up
one more time.

   "Are you and Becky back together?"

   "Not really.  We still see each other when we're not seeing anyone else.
There's still something there." Clay was quiet for a few moments.  "I think
I might have fallen in love with someone else, though."

   "Anyone I know?"

   "Well, yeah," he said quietly.  Hector could just imagine him squirming
as he worked up the nerve to tell her.  "Mac and I..."

   "Clayton Teller!" his mother scolded the teenager Hector figured might
be the most dangerous person on the face of the earth.  "You are grounded
for the rest of your life!"

   Hector's laughter was so loud that he was afraid that even the mother
and son with normal human hearing might be able to hear him all the way
from the gate.

   EPILOGUE--OCTOBER, 2015 Dinah Marquez shook her head and smiled.  "I
ought to say no, Hannah," she replied to the unanswered question the
thirteen-year-old beauty before her had posed simply by standing in front
of her mother modeling a new outfit, "but since Mack wore almost the exact
same thing on TV last week, I'm guessing half the girls in your class have
an outfit like this.  And, you know enough to get yourself out of trouble
without having to beat anyone up.  Go ahead."

   "Thanks, Mommy!" Hannah chirped.  Dinah knew her daughter was truly
happy then.  Dinah only got a "Mommy" these days when her Hannah was
overjoyed.  Most of the time it was just, "Come on, Mom!" Well, as
rebellious teenagers went, Hannah was really pretty tame.  She was too
capable of reading her mother's thoughts to ever believe, as most
thirteen-year-old girls did, that her mother was trying to destroy her
life.

   "Becky's design, I suppose," Dinah added.

   "She's the best, Mommy.  The absolute best!"

   Dinah supposed she could have been jealous of her baby-daddy's fashion
designer "absolute best" wife.  But then she'd have to be jealous of so
many pretty girls through the years.  Clayton had never really stopped
using his power to bed new girls.  His marriage with Becky was based on
genuine love and adoration, and Dinah reckoned Becky even had the stroke to
end all of Clay's affairs with gorgeous young maidens if she wanted to do
so.  But Becky had decided, just like the rest of them, that when a person
had powers like his, their sexual morality was bound to be a little
different.  "If I really wanted it to be different, then I would have made
him stop before I agreed to marry him," Becky had told Dinah one night as
the two enjoyed entirely too much wine.

   As Hannah skipped out the door to school, Dinah sighed.  "They grow up
so fast," she whispered.  "How about you stay a little girl until you're
thirty?" she asked, pressing her hand to her belly.  This would be her
fourth, and probably not her last.  She and Hector liked making babies, and
they loved being parents even more than that.  And with Angelo Angel around
to help protect Lake City, Dynamo felt free to take the needed maternity
leave.  Once the baby came, though, Dynamo would take her turns on patrol.
Hector was a great husband, and probably an even better father. 
Superheroing was only his third best thing.  "Well, his fourth," Dinah
thought with a smile.  "Oh, baby girl, your daddy is truly a gifted lover."

   "Dinah," a warm voice called from the doorway.

   "Rae, your baby girl's new video was just on.  Mack T, former country
star and now sexy pop siren.  Heard from her lately?"

   "Just skyped with her last night after her show," Rae glowed every time
she spoke of the girl who had become one of Clay's most passionate lovers
and then had become his stepsister when Rae adopted her.  The latter had
put a stop to the former, for the most part.  "Luckily I married a man who
doesn't mind staying up late." Rae chuckled a little.  "Well, I was keeping
him up late anyway.  We normal humans can still go all night sometimes,
too."

   "John is a cutie," Dinah said with a nod.  "He's one of those guys who
takes care of things but still knows how to have fun.  Lucky for you I met
Hector before I met John."

   "Lucky for you you met Hector before he met me," Rae teased in return.
"Say, Clay just stumbled across something he's never stumbled across in his
workload.  He's hoping you can help him out."

   "What does Doctor Teller need from little old me?" Dinah asked.

   "Well, one of his patients at the clinic is showing signs of being a
Super.  Your style of Super."

   "How old is she?" Dinah asked.  Well, there weren't too many ages she
could be.  Clayton's clinic only catered to girls between twelve and twenty
years old.

   "Poor babe is only thirteen," Rae said with a shake of her head.  "Clay
found her living in one of the old warehouses along Pier 19."

   "That's where an awful lot of the runaways and homeless kids end up. 
So, Clay brought her in as a rescue and found out he had more than just his
usual handful of psych work to do." Dinah knew that Clay would do what he
always did, take a broken girl from the streets or an abusive home, fix the
emotional damage the world had done to her and then either find her a
loving home or straighten out the adults in her old one.  Oh, he'd probably
have sex with her a half-dozen times along the way, but that was all part
of his world now.  A lot of the problems these girls faced were sexual. 
He'd use his own way of fixing that and leaving them with an appetite for
healthy relationships of that sort.  Any misgivings any of them had had
about that sort of thing were ultimately squashed by the results he
produced in the end.

   "Well, Clay said that this eighty-five pound girl had been ostracized by
her family after she beat the hell out of the stepdad who tried to rape
her. He was in a coma for six days, but he's okay now." Rae then turned red
as she watched the color drain from Dinah's cheeks.  "I'm sorry, Dinah.  I
should have softened that a little."

   "It was a million years ago, or it seems like it for me.  And he was a
bad man.  He would have killed me and other little girls if I hadn't done
what I did back then.  I wasn't worried about that, Rae.  I was worried
about how the little girl feels.  What did Clay do so far?"

   "Oh, the usual, I'm sure," Rae said, only slightly embarrassed by the
thought of her grown son making love to yet another adolescent girl.  "But
he said that he hasn't touched that memory or her perception of it.  He
said that you never wanted him to alter that with you, because it helps you
keep control."

   "He's right," Dinah said, bounding up from her chair in a way that no
eight-months-pregnant woman should have been able to do.  "If this girl is
going to learn to live with what she is becoming, then she'll need to
remember what she's capable of.  So, where is Clay?"

   "Somewhere in one of the girls' rooms, probably.  Ask Jamie.  She'll
know."

   "Jamie's back?" Dinah asked with a big smile.

   "Just back for the first time today," Rae answered with a smile that
matched Dinah's.  Jamie made everyone's days a little brighter.  "How many
receptionists have a boss who sends her and her new husband to Ireland for
two months for a honeymoon?  Oh, and Jamie will have some news for you when
she sees you."

   "Well, I can guess what that will be."

   "Dinah dear, how long has a baby ever stayed a secret in this house?  I
only get to tell you because Hannah hasn't seen Jamie yet this morning."

   Dinah laughed softly.  Middle schools run on gossip, and no girl could
ever hope to know what Hannah knew about each and every one of her
classmates.  Still, she was always kind in how she used it all.  Hannah
couldn't wait to get into the family business and start saving people.  The
psi with superstrength and superspeed already had her superhero name all
picked out, and Becky had given her a dozen designs for the uniform she
would wear when she finally started patrols as "Magic."

   As Dinah crossed the lawn and headed to the clinic and dormitory just
over the hill from the mansion, she couldn't help but count all her
blessings.  That moment of terror and violence in the back of a bad man's
van did seem like a million years ago.  But the night with Clay that gave
them Hannah seemed like a week ago.  It was so vivid, so integral to who
Dinah had become.  She had befriended him in an effort to save his soul. 
Clay had, in his own way, saved hers.  Dinah Rosen had been on the path to
becoming the ultimate lonely heroine, but that night had set her on a
different path, one filled with love and family.  "Oh, Clay," she said to
herself with a smile, "you're a strange man, and one of the world's
horniest people, but you really are some sort of a hero." THE END