"Do you think it looks stupid?" Isabella asked nervously for probably the hundredth time.
"Will you just relax? It looks fine. You'll probably start a new fashion trend. It certainly doesn't look any worse than some of the ridiculous things kids are wearing today," Mardi replied before taking a sip of her iced tea.
Isabella reached up self-consciously to adjust the two-inch wide 'HALO' – Hearing Amplification Optimizer – that encircled her head just above her ears like a crown. It was made of titanium and consisted of intermittent prongs that transmitted the electrical impulses into her brain. It itched like crazy and she caught a few by-standers staring blatantly at her. The last thing a teenager needed was negative attention.
The HALO had been her thirteenth birthday gift from her father, and in theory it was a grand idea. In reality she wanted to rip it off and throw it in the closest trashcan. Almost of its own will her hand moved up again. Quick as lightening her mother's arm shot across the table and snatched her wrist in midair. After three and a half weeks of training with her dad she'd come to realize how amazingly strong and agile he still was considering he was halfway through his eighth decade, but none could compare to a mother's reflexes, which were borderline prescient.
"Leave it be or take it off," she admonished quietly with a raised eyebrow. "You don't have to wear it you know." Mardi released her grip and Isabella dropped her hand back to the table with grimace. Sullenly she pushed a fry around her plate, tracing abstract patterns in the catsup. "So how's school?" her mother questioned between bites of her chef salad.
Isabella shrugged. They were sitting at an outdoor table of a trendy bistro in the bohemian section of town and afterwards they were going to do some serious shopping. This was her mother's birthday present, which was actually sort of cool. Most girls she knew hated their parents, especially their mothers, but she thought she was kind of lucky. Hers had done all their living before they'd had her and didn't feel the need to encroach upon her childhood.
Today she turned thirteen. Mardi had taken the day off from her work at the Foundation and she'd allowed Isabella to have an excused absence from school, a girls' day out. They'd visited a salon in the morning and had their hair and nails done, which was the coolest thing Isabella had ever experienced. She'd had them use purple polish on her fingers, which her mother had frowned at but stayed delightfully silent.
"School's okay," she eventually answered. "At lunch I get to sit with Terry and his girlfriend Dana and their friends. Max is so totally schway; she has pink hair. And I'm in advanced computer programming with her."
"Really?" Mardi drawled. "Anything go on that doesn't involve Terry or his friends?"
"Don't you like Terry?" Isabella asked exasperated.
"He's a very nice young man, but I would prefer you developed friends a little closer to your own age."
"But…"
"Don't go there again Isabella Martha," Mardi warned. "There is a world of difference between twelve, well thirteen, and seventeen than there is between, well never mind, but you know what I'm saying. You have a lot of growing up to do, and you are too young to have any boyfriend, much less one that is almost a man. He already has a girlfriend anyway, so you need to stop being so fixated on him. I don't want to hear anymore about it. Understood?" She was using her 'Mom' voice. Isabella knew the look, but she'd forgotten the voice, or maybe she'd just never used it when she could still hear. All the same it was disconcerting.
"Yes ma'am," she mumbled and stuffed a wad of fries in her mouth.
"Good lord, you'd think you were raised in a barn. A proper young lady does not shove food in her mouth like that. You are familiar with the fork aren't you?"
Isabella chewed the potato mush in her mouth slowly then swallowed it down with a gulp. She took a sip of her soda and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand causing her mom to roll her eyes. "What's the matter Mom? You're usually not this uptight."
Mardi's eyes shifted away from her face in guilt. She took a breath then looked back at her. "I just want to make sure that you don't forget how to be a person," she replied in a voice barely above a whisper.
She wasn't sure she heard it correctly. "What?"
Closing her eyes tightly, Mardi said, "Just because he's teaching you to…to…fight and whatever else doesn't mean you have carte blanche to act inappropriately. You're still half mine and that half will be civilized."
Isabella couldn't help it. She started laughing and Mardi opened her eyes with a frown. "Don't worry Mom. I'll always be your little girl," she assured her.
"Good." She smiled with relief. "Now finish up, we have a lot of shopping to do."
An hour later they were walking down one of the side streets, several bags between them, both looking satisfied and not the least bit exhausted.
"I know of this cute little retro shop just up ahead. You'll probably find some really neat things in there," Mardi said to her. Isabella just smiled. Things had really picked up after lunch and she was amazed how much fun her mom was. She was also paying attention to all the sounds around her, thoroughly engrossed in each little microcosm of life. A dog barking from an open window, a car zooming by, a loud argument between a couple on the opposite corner. Each was its own little world, but all fit together.
There was very little traffic, automobile or pedestrian, compared to the non-stop commotion of midtown. That was why it was so unusual to feel someone bump into her from behind. "Hey!" she cried out in surprise as she felt a hand grip her upper arm.
Mardi looked over in response to her exclamation. "Oh no," she said with dread.
"Good to see you too Mrs. Wayne. Now turn down the next alley or the kid has a nasty fall in front of a bus."
"Mom?" Isabella asked.
"Not now honey," she replied tightly. They were coming up on a break in the buildings and Mardi swung left as instructed.
The guy put a hand on her back and pushed Isabella hard enough that she stumbled forward. "Watch it you creep!" she shouted.
Mardi grabbed her before she could fall and moved in front of her, facing the man. He advanced on them slowly and they shuffled backwards to keep a distance between them.
"What are you doing?" Mardi asked, her voice cracking.
"Got a little unfinished business to take care of."
Mardi shook her head. "N-no. It's over. He said it's over. He sent that card."
He shrugged indifferently. "Maybe it's over for him. Me? I was given a job and I intend to finish it. 'Sides you know my face. You could easily rat me out to the cops. Can't take that chance, can I?"
"I can't rat you out without ratting out Powers too. You're safe!"
"Can't take that risk."
"Don't you get it! The first place they're going to look if something happens to me is Derek Powers. He won't like that you've compromised him like this!"
The man smiled and Isabella felt goose bumps up and down her spine. She was looking into the face of a killer. He reached his right hand into his pocket a pulled out a large switchblade knife. "By the time I'm done with you, it'll just look like random street violence. Another sad Gotham statistic." His eyes shifted over her shoulder and settled on Isabella. "Make that two sad statistics."
"No! You don't have to do this! Please!"
"Mom!" Isabella whispered insistently into her ear.
"Not now Bella!"
"But Mom, look." She tapped Mardi's shoulder. When she turned her head Isabella made several quick signs, *I can take him.*
Mardi's eyes opened in horror. "No!" she hissed vehemently.
"What's that dummy saying?" the man growled and grasped Mardi by her throat with his free hand. He looked angry and his face was blotched red. Mardi sputtered and gasped for breath. "The little freak say something about me?" He looked at Isabella. "Don't matter. You just wait your turn," he snarled.
Taking several quick breaths to focus her energy, Isabella stepped confidently forward. She grabbed the wrist holding the knife and bent it back over his shoulder. He cried out in shock and pain. "Let go of my mother," she commanded in a deep, strong inflection of voice that sprang up from within her unbidden. Several long-term residents of Arkham Asylum from the turn of the century would have recognized its cadence if not its speaker.
His expression darkened and he obeyed the command, shoving Mardi backwards into a cluster of garbage cans, knocking them all down like a set of tenpins. "Okay, you want to go first, kid, no problem. But now you've made me mad." With his free hand he struck her upside the head, boxing her ear and knocking the HALO onto the ground. She was immersed suddenly in blessed silence, which was more than fine with her. The background noise just served as a distraction anyway. The fire in her ear spread down the side of her neck in response to the blow and hurt like crazy, but she pushed it away. Her dad always said to make time for the pain later.
"You'll have to do better than that," she admonished him calmly and wrenched the arm even harder. One more ounce of pressure and it would separate at the elbow. She sent her free hand, clenched tightly, flying towards his face in a quick but effective jab. Blood flowed from his nose as if a spigot had been turned on.
"Ow!" he yelled out in agony. "You little bitch!" Spittle flew from his lips and his eyes widened, making him look not unlike a rabid dog. "I'll show you better." He reached around and grabbed a handful of her long hair, using it has leverage. He yanked as hard as he could and she felt herself lifted off her feet and flew into the side of the nearest building. It was old and brick and did not give at all as she landed against it and slid down to a sit on the cold concrete ground. Her vision blurred slightly and she felt a little sick to her stomach.
The man stared coldly at her as he massaged his abused arm. "This was just business, but now I'm going to get a great deal of satisfaction teaching you a lesson in respect." Beyond him she saw her mother gotten to her feet and was now sifting through a dumpster full of construction debris left over from a recent building remodel. She pulled out a piece of rebar about three feet long and hefted it experimentally before turning back towards the man and Isabella.
"Get away from my daughter." He turned and Isabella could no longer see his face, but he must have said something pretty nasty, because her mother's face went completely white. "I said, leave her alone!" She rushed forward and swung the bar against his shoulder once, twice. On the third swing he caught it easily and pulled sharply on it. Mardi's grip was so tight she fell forward, into his arms. He tossed the bar aside, flipped her around, and gripped her roughly beneath the chin so her head was resting on his shoulder and her neck exposed.
He turned back to Isabella and looked down on her evilly. "Just watch what I'm going to do to your mom. It's going to be quick and relatively painless. You won't be so lucky."
Mardi struggled against him as he raised the knife in front of her face, tears falling in a steady stream. Isabella licked her lips and gauged the distance between them. Less than a foot. Quickly she lurched her lower body forward and kicked out her right leg, hitting him squarely in the back of the knee. It wasn't hard enough to cause him any pain, but enough to make the joint buckle under their combined weight. He went down hard and Mardi rolled off and away.
Isabella sprang up and stood before him. He raised his head, but made no move to stand. "What the hell are you, kid?"
She smiled angelically. "Not just another pretty face." She threw her entire body into a fierce roundhouse kick, connecting solidly with the side of his face, which in turn smashed satisfyingly against the side of the building. He sprawled on the ground, made one half-hearted attempt at pushing himself up, and then fell lifelessly back down. "That was for calling me a dummy."
She turned as hands clutched at her shoulder. Mardi stood there, her clothes streaked with mud and trash, cheeks wet and shiny. "Are you okay?" she asked, touching Isabella's head and face and arms. "Did he hurt you?"
She grabbed her mom's hands in her own. "I'm fine." Then she leaned forward and allowed Mardi to envelope her in a powerful hug. "I wasn't going to let him hurt you Mom. I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again." She felt a kiss planted on the top of her head. She pushed away from her mother gently and looked down at the man who would have killed them. "Let's get out of here before Prince Charming wakes up."
She bent down and picked the HALO up, turning it over in her hands. Didn't look like it had suffered any damage. She placed it back on her head and heard her mother asking a question. "…call the police?"
"Won't that open up all sorts of questions about Mr. Powers?"
"I don't know. Probably." Her mom looked miserable and worried. When Isabella had discovered that Powers had tried to kill her mother she became both frightened and angry, angered mostly by the realization that the man had cowed her mom, who normally would go head-to-head with a bulldozer to suit her own needs, but now the mere mention of his name would send her into a state of desperate depression. And though she didn't know the particulars, Isabella was certain he was behind the terrible and uncharacteristic fight between her folks. If nothing else, that was reason alone to hate the man's guts.
She wanted to spare her from any more trauma at his hands, so Isabella said, "Hopefully this twip will get the idea not to bother you again. Let's just leave him with his headache and humiliation."
Mardi nodded as she grabbed her shopping bags and cast a fearful glance at the prone figure. "I've had enough shopping for today. I want to go home and have a long, hot bath."
"Sounds good." Isabella picked up her own bags in one hand and took hold of her mother's hand with the other. They walked out of the alley together and back up the street, a great deal more alert to the world around them. After a block spent in silence, Isabella finally spoke up. "I've been thinking about a costume. Something purple maybe, but no cape…Hey! Ow! Mom you're squeezing my hand too tight! Mom?"
