by J. Kenner
“But that’s exactly my point,” Taylor said. Why the hell couldn’t they understand? “She’s a superhero, for crying out loud. Leaping tall buildings. Stopping runaway trains. I mean, hell, the girl’s got X-ray vision—”
“Which is pretty damn cool, when you think about it.”
“Hoop!” Deena screeched. “You’re not helping.”
Taylor pushed up out of his chair and started pacing. “Why the hell would someone like Zoe want to spend her life with someone like me?”
“Because she loves you, you foolish boy.”
He spun around to see Tessa glaring at him for all she was worth, and suddenly he felt about four feet tall.
“Tessa. I’m sorry.” What else could he say?
“You lied,” she said simply.
The words found their mark. More than anything Hoop or Deena had been saying, Tessa’s simple truth bored into his soul and festered.
“You promised you wouldn’t give up on her. You told her you loved her. And now you’re just going to abandon her?”
“Why would she want me?” he asked again, but it was a pathetic excuse, and he knew it. She did want him. God help him, that amazing woman loved him, and he’d hurt her more deeply than he could imagine.
Tessa stared him down. “Don’t you play that game with me, George Bailey Taylor. Not ever with me. You need a good talking-to, and I’m here to give it to you.”
“Tessa, she’s—”
“Don’t make the same mistake I did,” Tessa said, ignoring him. “Don’t you dare give up on that girl just because you’re intimidated by everything she can do. That’s only part of who she is. Just like that bullet in your leg is only part of who you are. And she loves you. If you really love her, too, I’d better not hear that you’ve let her down.”
He tried to look chastised, but couldn’t help the smile that fought to emerge. There was something so right about being called to the carpet by Zoe’s mother.
Heaven help him, he’d been a fool. A damned arrogant fool.
More than anything in the world he wanted to hold Zoe, to tell her he was a jerk. To tell her he loved her and never wanted to lose her.
And he knew in his heart she’d forgive him. Hell, that was one of the reasons he loved her.
He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever.
He pushed out of his chair and his eyes found Deena. “Where is she?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Something about a legend.”
“She’s off to save the world,” Tessa said. The older woman smiled. “Get used to it.”
“Save the world? Fine. Great. Wonderful. But I need to talk to her.” He cursed his stupidity. “How the heck am I supposed to find her? She could be anywhere on the planet.” With an angry sweep of his arm, Taylor wiped the top of his desk clean. “God, I’m such an idiot!”
“Wait!”
They all turned to Deena.
She smiled. “I just might know someone who can help.”
22
“Elmer?” Deena called, scrambling around on the floor as Taylor watched, baffled. “Come here, Elmer. Oh, little ferret, please be here.”
He glanced at Hoop, then Tessa. They both shrugged.
“Deenie, my love,” Hoop said, “what the hell are you doing?”
“The ferret,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “He’ll know where they are.” She glanced up at the clock, and Taylor followed her gaze. It was already past eleven. They had to hurry.
“The ferret that buried his teeth in my leg?” Taylor asked. “We’re looking for him?”
“He belongs to her half brother.” She met his eyes. “Taylor, trust me.”
He nodded. “Fine. Keep looking.”
His eyes swept the baseboard as he moved around in Zoe’s kitchen, around the countertop, and back into the breakfast area. He stopped by her table, letting his eyes scour the room, trying to think where he’d be if he were a ferret.
That was when he saw it—the official-looking piece of paper sitting under the salt shaker.
He picked it up and his blood ran cold.
“Taylor,” Deena called. “Would you get with the program, already?”
“She’s giving it up,” he said, his voice barely audible even to his own ears. He read the words on the page, straining to make sense of the letters. After the eclipse, she was giving up her powers.
For him?
He closed his eyes. What the hell had he done?
Deena looked over his shoulder to the neatly printed form. She sucked in a breath and her eyes met his.
“We need to find her,” he said, his voice low and tense. “Now.”
“Then we need to find Elmer,” she said, fear in her eyes. “He’s our only chance.”
He nodded. “I’ll check the bedroom.” As Hoop and Deena and Tessa crawled around on their hands and knees, Taylor headed to the back of the apartment. He ripped open the closet and started plowing through the piles of incredibly unfashionable clothes. An ugly jumper, a bright orange and gold dress, a tacky brown pantsuit, a—
Ferret.
Thank goodness. The little guy opened his eyes, blinked, then came wide-awake, jumping to his feet and hissing.
“Hey, hey, calm down.” He glanced toward the door, feeling rather silly. But he’d told Deena he’d trust her, so . . .
He put his hand out. “I’m sorry about throwing you off the candy dish to get the stone, but Zoe’s in trouble. Will you help?”
The problem with mortals was that they simply weren’t good at charades.
With much cajoling and bouncing about, Elmer finally got them to drop an atlas on the floor, and now he was doing a little dance on top of the West Coast.
“California?” Taylor asked. “She’s still in California?”
Elmer jumped up and down, bobbing his head, and the mortals slapped their hands together and generally acted silly.
“In Los Angeles, still?” Tessa asked.
Again, Elmer bobbed.
“But we’re still screwed,” Hoop said. “Los Angeles isn’t exactly Podunk, U.S.A. It covers a lot of territory.”
“Here,” said Deena, grabbing Elmer up and plunking him down in front of Zoe’s computer. She logged on, typed a bit, and an image of Los Angeles and a list of activities popped onto the screen.
Elmer’s whiskers twitched. Now they were cooking.
Rather roughly, she grabbed him under his forepaws and held him to the screen. “Point,” she said.
A mite demanding, but he forgave her. They were all worried about Zoe, after all. He skimmed the words, stopping on outdoor activities. She hit a button, and the screen changed—popping up a whole list of things to do in Los Angeles.
His eyes glazed over. . . so much to do, so much to see, and he hadn’t even yet made it out of Zoe’s apartment.
“Elmer!” That was Taylor.
He jumped. Sorry! He opened his eyes and focused on the screen. There it was, midway down the page—the Griffith Observatory. That’s where Zephron had said this would all happen.
“You’re sure?” Taylor asked. “The observatory?”
Sure I’m sure. Do I not look sure? he squeaked.
Taylor shrugged. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Deena, Hoop, and Tessa all nodded and murmured agreement. Zeus’s zits, you’d think they’d teach ferret in those mortal schools.
He squirmed, and Deena put him back on the floor as she grabbed her purse and ran for the door. Taylor was already gone, and Elmer ran after them, stopping at the threshold and bouncing up and down. Come back! Come back this instant!
After all that—all they’d been through together—and the dang mortals were just going to leave him? It just wasn’t fair.
On the walkway, Taylor was sprinting toward the stairs. He paused, turned back, and his eyes met Elmer’s. The corner of his mouth turned up as he nodded. “Don’t forget to bring the ferret!” he called, and Elmer writhed with delight.
As the one
called Hoop scooped him up, Elmer preened.
He just might take a liking to these mortals after all.
“Well, well,” said Mordichai, standing near the Egyptian-looking stone obelisk that served as the focal point of the landscaped grounds fronting the Observatory. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Zoe only nodded, too afraid to speak. In her stomach, a thousand butterflies had morphed into broad-winged bats. Behind them, the observatory glowed under the soft electric lights. Below, the sounds of Los Angeles drifted up.
The grounds were eerily empty, as if somehow the vibrations of the legend had kept the mortals away.
“Why don’t we forget the whole thing?” he asked, holding up the stone. “You know you can’t take it from me, and the eclipse will be here soon. All I have to do is hold this stone up, and my father will be able to speak to the Outcasts through me.”
She looked around. “Uncle Hieronymous is here?”
Mordi frowned. “Not exactly.”
“What’s the matter? Is he too chicken to fight his own battle?”
“It’s our battle, cousin.” He took a step toward her. “Unless you’d care to join us? You know the council will never admit you. Your skills are”—his hand twirled in the air—“lacking.”
“They’re not going to admit me, anyway.” She stood up straighter, trying to make peace with her decision. “I’m submitting to mortalization.”
A look of disgust passed over his face.
“But not until after I get that stone from you.”
“I wouldn’t bet the ranch, cousin, dear.”
She licked her lips, trying to find a way to win. Mordi was right. He was stronger. She could tell he’d been holding back all this time, knew he might have done much more harm than he’d actually managed. If she really had to fight him . . .
“Why are you doing this? Why would you want to enslave all the mortals, anyway? Your mom’s a mortal.”
Mordi snorted, and Zoe realized that maybe that hadn’t been the best argument.
“Why are you so keen on saving them?” he asked. “For that matter, why would you join them? Your precious Taylor? What makes you think that even if you become a mortal that he’ll want to stay with you? Why would he want to? You’re a freak, Zoe, and you always will be. We both are. My mother didn’t want me any more than Taylor wants you.”
“And Hieronymous does?” she spat. “Does he love you, Mordi? Or does he love what you can do for him? If it weren’t for that rock would he care about you in the slightest? He doesn’t even really believe that you’ll beat me, does he?” she asked, remembering Nit and Wit. “He’s the one who sent those creeps to the party. Not you. He’s afraid you’ll lose, isn’t he?”
“Enough!” Her cousin’s eyes burned with green fire. “My father wants me at his side. Me.” His voice was shaking. “Mr. Taylor didn’t want you. He wanted some pretty, normal mortal. Not you, Zoe. Never you.”
“That’s not true,” she cried, but doubt niggled in her mind. She tried to push it away, but it fought back to the surface. She had risked everything for love, and she had no idea how anything would turn out in the end.
“It won’t matter anyway,” Mordi said, his voice stronger now. Firmer. “After tonight, mortals don’t have much of a future.” He swept his arm in a circle and a wall of flame danced up around them. “As they say in Rome, let the games begin.”
“We’ve got to do something!” Hale watched, helpless, as Mordi whipped and spun and kicked in the circle of flame. Zoe was beaten back, time and again.
Midnight was fast approaching, and the moon had almost entirely disappeared. If Zoe didn’t wrest that stone from Mordichai soon . . .
“Together!” Donis called, and Hale nodded. They linked hands, then burst forward, only to be thrown back by the living flames. They landed in a heap, Zephron standing calmly behind them.
“It’s no use,” the elder said. “We cannot even enter the circle. The eclipse has made them both stronger.”
“She’s better than this,” complained Hale, flinching as a stream of sparks from Mordi’s fingertips sent Zoe flying backward. “Why in Hades is she doing such a piss-poor job?”
“Your sister has never found focus. She seems to excel only when her heart is fully invested in the matter.”
“She’s not invested in preventing some lunatic relative from taking over the world?”
“I think she’s distracted,” Donis said calmly.
Hale spun to face him. “Well, maybe someone should remind her that she’s not going to be able to spend any time with that distraction if Hieronymous unites the Outcasts.”
“I don’t think emotions are quite as pragmatic as you, son.”
Hale shrugged off his father’s platitudes and peered once more into the circle. “That’s it, Zoe!” he yelled when she got in a particularly good punch. The trouble was, Mordi’s powers were well developed. He could levitate, shoot pure energy from his fingertips, and even execute a really neat left hook.
Zoe, on the other hand, was a scrapper.
She was bouncing and dodging, but she wasn’t holding her own. Little by little Mordi was wearing her down, and soon it would be too late.
“Zoe! Somebody help her, dammit!”
Hale turned toward the frantic voice and saw the mortal sprinting toward him, clearly favoring one leg. Behind him, Deena and Tessa and another mortal male struggled to keep up. “Tessa,” Donis whispered.
Hale sighed. He’d come expecting an action flick, but this was turning into a soap opera.
Straightening his shoulders, he turned to face Zoe’s mortal. “You must be Taylor.”
The man squinted. “And you must be Hale. Why the hell aren’t you in there helping her? Afraid your picture-perfect skin will get bruised?”
Hale flashed him a look of disdain, then took a step into the flames. He was summarily tossed backward like so much garbage. Landing on his rump, he then looked up at Taylor. “Satisfied?”
Fear and frustration burned across the mortal’s face, and Hale fought a wave of compassion. He didn’t want to like this mortal; this was the man who was going to one day hurt his sister the way his father had been crushed.
Taylor paced, one hand running through his hair, the other keeping a death grip on a wadded-up piece of paper. He moved toward the circle. “Zoe! Sweetheart, it’s Taylor!”
No response. Zoe couldn’t hear him.
Taylor whipped around. “What the hell’s wrong with everybody? Why can’t we help her?”
“I thought she was some kick-ass superhero,” the other mortal male said as Elmer peeked his head out of the man’s jacket pocket. “How come that bastard’s kicking her butt?”
“Hoop,” Deena said, “I told you. It’s like, she’s in training.”
Tessa’s face tightened, her eyes never leaving Zoe, her terror obvious. Donis appeared next to her. Zoe’s mother looked up, tears suddenly coming and leaving trails through her make-up. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Hale watched as, almost instinctually, his father gravitated toward the mortal. She held her hand out.
Donis moved closer. “Sorry?”
“About this. About everything.” She looked away. “About making you—”
He took her outstretched hand, then pulled her close. They both focused on the circle then, and on their daughter fighting for all she was worth. Despite everything, Hale gave a small smile.
Nearby, Taylor kicked the heel of his shoe into the soft ground. “This is ridiculous. She’s getting creamed! I don’t intend to lose her. Now, somebody please tell me what the hell I can do!”
“Lose her?” Hale repeated, his anger flaring. “You lose her? She’s giving up her heritage for you, buddy. You aren’t the one who is losing her. That’ll be her dad and me.”
Cut the guy a break, Elmer said. He’s in love with the girl.
Hale opened his mouth to answer, but Taylor got there first. “You’re not losing anybody,” he said. “Not if I can help it.” He
held up the paper. “See this? This is bullshit.” He turned toward the flames, shaking the paper as the fire leaped and curled outward.
In the circle, Mordi took a running leap toward Zoe. She jumped up into a backflip, managing to avoid Mordi’s lethal legs.
“Yeah!” Hale screamed. “Way to go, Zoester!” But he spoke too soon, and Mordi twirled around and caught her square in the back. She went flying forward, only to land in a crumpled heap.
“For crying out loud,” Taylor yelled. “He’s killing her.”
He reached out, putting his hand in the flames, then immediately pulled back, cringing.
“It’ll burn you, mortal,” Hale said somewhat peevishly, “not just hold you back. Guess you’re stuck out here with us.”
“To hell with that,” Taylor blurted. With his mouth set in a thin line, he looked at his mortal companions. Deena and Hoop eyed each other, fear in their eyes, but nodded their silent agreement. Then he turned to Hale, his face firm and determined. “If you aren’t going to help her, I am.”
“Are you brain-dead? I already told you we can’t get past the circle. This is her battle.”
He took a step toward the flame. “I . . .”—step—“. . . am going . . .”—step, step—“. . . to help her!” And with that, he leaped forward into the fire.
“No!” Hale lunged, grabbing the back of Taylor’s shirt. Donis and Hale could stand the heat, but the mortal would burn to cinders. He tugged, keeping Taylor from sure death, but Zephron laid a hand on his shoulder and nodded toward the circle.
“Let the boy do what he has to do. If Zoe wins, he will survive. If she loses . . . well perhaps death will be a blessing.”
He didn’t mean to, but his grip on the shirt weakened, and suddenly Taylor jumped into the circle. The flames leaped and danced, sucking him farther and farther into the fire.
She was going to lose.
She knew it; but, dammit, she couldn’t accept it.
She’d been lucky so far, for her meager skills were no match for Mordi’s years of training. Still, by Hera, she was going to go down fighting.