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            I'm not a very patient person.

            Why do I say this?

            So you know why I did what I did next.

            Something no one had ever told me before was how fantastic The Black Phoenix was at being stubborn. I mean, seriously. By that Thursday night, I was so sick and tired of being ignored by him, that I felt I might explode. I got that he was pissed at me for endangering myself and publishing that article, but the fact that he had the persistence to stay away for so long had my nerves on end.

            I can only wish that I had that kind of persistence in my body, too.

            But I didn't, and that's exactly why I found myself crawling onto my roof tiles Thursday night, where the sky was a pretty purple and free of clouds and the world around me was quiet.

            "Fine. You want to set a meeting place?" I grumbled to myself as I adjusted my body to find a comfortable position on my roof. "Then I'll give you a meeting place."

            I dusted off my jeans and shrugged my sweater tighter around me, staring up at the horizon and searching for any approaching figures flying though the sky in a tight leather suit.

            "You wanted to see me?"

            I didn't know why I didn't flinch at his sudden appearance—considering he sure as hell hadn't appeared in the skyline, and it seemed he'd also been given teleportation powers, or something—but maybe I was just getting used to his abrupt appearances and jump scares. Either way, I neither jumped nor moved from my position.

            "I told you I'm sorry," I said calmly, staring at the sky. "And I know there's nothing more I can say to make it better. But there's no use crying over spilled milk, especially when there's no way to clean it up. All we can do is just look forward and find a way to avoid it."

            I felt him sit down beside me, and his shoulder brushed mine gently as he took a seat on the roof tiles and stared out at the sky with me. "I'm not going to say I overreacted, but maybe I should have heard you out and not acted so quickly," he said in a low voice. "In hindsight, I acted like kind of a jackass. I'm sorry."

            I looked over to him. His jaw was clean-shaven and angular, and he looked quite handsome in that moment, even though I couldn't see his eyes or forehead. "I'm sorry, too."

            "Can we forgive each other and call it even?" he asked.

            I smiled. "I guess we can."

            He leaned closer, and I almost screamed in shock as he slowly placed his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him. He was warm and soft, despite the skintight suit that separated us. His arm was strong, and something about it felt safe. Like I was invincible just because he was close.

            "He's getting closer, you know," he said in a low voice. "I still can't find him, but I can sense it. Like this rope that keeps getting tighter and tighter around me. But I'm gonna find him, Violet. I promise."

            "What are you going to do once you do find him?" I asked.

            I looked up just in time to see his angular jaw clench, and he didn't meet my eyes when he said, "You really don't wanna know."

            I shivered, despite the fact I was unusually warm in his arms, because I could tell from the tone in his voice that he was right; I really didn't want to know what he would do.

            "You shouldn't worry, though," he continued, once I didn't reply. "Go to school. Live a normal life. But don't worry over all this. I'll keep you safe."

            "You do realize that now that I know you it's kind of hard to live a normal life, right?" I responded with a small smile. "Everything about this screams weird."

            "Well, live the most normal life you can. Even if it means being a little weird sometimes. Because I'm not going anywhere."

            I rested my head on his shoulder, and I could feel is loud heartbeat even from here. It was strong and vibrant, like him. "Good. Because I don't want you to go anywhere."

            Even though my head was on his shoulder, I'm ninety-nine percent sure I felt him smile and brush a kiss almost imperceptibly to the top of my head as he whispered, "I'll stay as long as you want me around."

            And even though I knew it was kind of weird, I could feel the answer deep in my gut, as if I needed him.

            Because maybe, just maybe, I wanted him around forever.

            ~          *          ~

            I woke up at midnight that night to the sound of my phone ringing, and jolted from my heavy slumber to blink blearily at my phone.

            "What?" I mumbled to myself as I scrabbled desperately for it on my dresser, if only to make the incessant noise stop.

            I looked at the screen to find an unknown number, and slowly brought it to my ear and started the call. "Hello?" I asked, blinking blearily and looking out the window to see a half-crescent moon and a small smattering of stars.

            "Hey, Violet," a masculine voice said on the other end of the line, sounding way too comfortable to be talking to me at midnight on a Tuesday morning.

            "Uh, hi," I said slowly, pushing my overgrown bangs out of the way. "Who is this?"

            "It's Dave," he said frankly, as if I were an idiot for not already knowing this.

            I squinted. "Hearst High Dave? How did you get this number?"

            "Chloe," he replied simply. "But, anyway, that's irrelevant. I got the answers you were looking for."

            "It's almost one in the morning," I told him, glancing at the alarm clock. "You mean to tell me you couldn't wait until there was a sun in the sky to call me?"

            He huffed impatiently at my constant interruptions. "Do you want the information on Nathaniel LeRuggia or not?"

            I sighed. "Yeah, I do. Sorry. Continue."

            He puffed out another breath, as if this phone call were too much of an inconvenience to him. "So I did some digging; you know, searching in databases for strange things or red flags, and I came across something that I thought might be of import to you."

            "Fantastic!" I said, waking up more. "What is it?"

            "You mentioned that Nathaniel was a biochemist, right?" Dave checked, and I could hear the sound of a computer mouse clicking in the background.

            "Right," I affirmed.

            "Well, here's the strange thing: This Nathaniel LeRuggia was in a partnership with this man, Michael Stone, and they were working on some kind of genetic superhuman drug—kind of like a steroid on steroids. Anyway, they were the two best biochemists in America, and legend has it they had this whole serum planned out and everything. But I managed to find some of LeRuggia's case files, and it reported that Doctor Stone was turning up less and less for work, and was not doing his normal progress reports—in a footnote LeRuggia mentioned that he thought that maybe Stone was conducting experiments and bettering the serum without him. And then all this stuff went down with Stone's family, and LeRuggia fell off the map. He tried to recreate his serum when he came back to work, but he couldn't. And then he got fired from Geneva Labs. From what I've read, I think that LeRuggia's out for this serum."

            It wasn't exactly what I'd been expecting, but it was definitely helpful. It gave me a little more insight into LeRuggia's life, and the partnership between Doctor Stone and LeRuggia was certainly new. They'd been working on it together, but Stone had essentially betrayed him and done all the work himself—it made me wonder what had stopped him from trusting LeRuggia, and if it had something to do with why LeRuggia was after it now.

            "Thank you," I said to Dave. "You've been helpful."

            "Hey, Violet?" Dave asked.

            "Yeah?" I replied.

            "You're not going to get involved in this, are you?" Dave asked, and something about the tone of his voice gave me pause. It was a strange question for him to be asking.

            "Why do you ask?" I said slowly.

            "Look, I'm not asking many questions here, and I'm also doing this probono, which is certainly new for me. I don't know why you're researching old biochemists, and I don't think I want to. But be careful, okay?"

            "Why?" I asked.

            "I can't know for sure, but not long after he was fired, his sector blew up, destroying all evidence, killing LeRuggia's successor, and several of his workmates. I don't know if he has something to do with this, but if he does, I don't want you getting hurt. It would absolutely destroy Chloe."

            I smiled slowly. "You really like her, don't you?"

            "That's not the point," Dave said quickly, and I knew I had my answer. "Just... be careful. It looks like this guy would do anything to get his hands on the serum, and I don't think he's going to think twice about offing a teenage girl."

            "I'll be fine," I assured him. "But thank you."

            "Call me if you need anything," Dave said, and, before I could get a word in edgewise, abruptly hung up.

            I stared at the phone with a frown, and shook my head slowly.

            It seemed that my conversation with Dave had given me more questions than answers.

            And I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

            ~          *          ~

            "Interesting article," someone appraised from behind me Wednesday afternoon as I stuffed my bag into my car.

            I spun around and faced none other than Sam Thorne, who was leaning against a lamppost near me and was holding a copy of the school's local newspaper.

            I stared at it, puzzled. "How'd you get a hold of that?"

            He shrugged. "Well, since your article has become popular, it wasn't too hard to get a copy of it. I must say, it's a very interesting read."

            "It's just a stupid article," I deflected, thinking back to the man in question's anger when I'd published the article. Now, knowing that even college boys were getting a hold of it, I understood why he was angry. I'd really made news spread.

            "I don't think so," Sam argued, reading the first few pages of the sepia-toned paper. "I actually like it. You sound very well informed. How do you know so much about this guy—including his preferred alias?"

            I shrugged. "It's not like I know him or anything," I lied. "I just collected all the information I could find about him from his last year of saving people."

            The look Sam gave me told me he didn't believe me, but that he was choosing to roll with my lie. "Well, I think it's very journalistic of you. I knew you wrote for a paper, but this is quite an intriguing exposé."

            "I didn't know you knew much about that kind of thing," I said, but I must say I was kind of flattered by his words. Like anybody else, I loved praise.

            "I know a little," he said. "You know, you could probably getting an internship with a newspaper with this kind of article. You could even make this a job choice for the future."

            "It was just a stupid topic I used because I was out of ideas," I told him with a forced smile. "I didn't expect it to go quite so far."

            "Either way, you're the talk of the town," Sam said. "Everyone wants to know where your sudden interest in The Voiceless Stranger—pardon me, The Black Phoenix—came from. It kind of makes me wonder what you really know about this guy. Everyone seems to think he's dangerous, but you—you seem to think he's a hero."

            "All he's ever done is help people," I said, growing defensive. "He's saved a lot of lives for a villain."

            "True," Sam said, scanning the article again. "But there's a lot of stuff in here that the public didn't know before. It's almost like you really knew him."

            "Nope," I said, trying to make my voice sound effortless. But I have a very good feeling I failed. "Never met him."

            "He didn't even pay you a visit for writing this nice article about him?" Sam asked, cocking an eyebrow. "What an ass."

            "He's probably too busy saving lives," I replied with a small smile. Sure, he had come to visit me after the publishing of the article, but it certainly wasn't positive like Sam had been asking.

            "Maybe," Sam said. "Or he's in his dungeon planning his next evil scheme."

            I laughed. "Maybe."

            "So, I actually have something to confess," Sam said, jostling from foot-to-foot uncomfortably. "I didn't just come here to ask about the article."

            I leaned back against the car and smiled. "You couldn't resist me, could you?"

            He laughed, and I couldn't get over the rich and intoxicating timbre of his voice. "Actually, yes. That's why I came around. I was wondering if you were free Friday night."

            "Sam, I'd love to," I told him. "But I'm covering the Halloween bash the school is throwing Friday night. Sorry."

            He shrugged. "No, it's fine. No biggie."

            Knowing I had to get home before my mother began to get worried, I hooked a thumb back to my car. "Well, I gotta go. I'll see you later, okay?"

            He nodded. "Bye."

            I stepped into my car and started the engine, frowning at Sam's weird demeanor. There was something about him that I couldn't quite pin; something strange and unique that set him apart from normal boys. Or maybe my inner investigative reporter needed to be reined in a little more and I was seeing things were they didn't exist.

            But even as I drove off, I could see him standing there in the rearview mirror. And only did he walk again once I'd peeled away, and he'd disappeared.