by J. Kenner
“You know I love you,” he whispered again. His body slid on hers, warm and possessive.
“I know you do,” she said.
Snuggling close, she sighed, feeling sad and happy all at the same time. He loved her, yes.
Once upon a time, that hadn’t been enough. But this time he’d promised he’d stay. Her heart twisted a little and she said a silent plea that, this time, he meant it. She wasn’t making another huge mistake. This time, love really would win.
Hieronymous whipped the black cloth off, revealing a rather unpleasant-looking contraption with a metallic helmet strapped to dozens of copper-colored wires. The wires led to a perfectly formed glass sphere filled with some sort of glowing gas.
“Here,” he said, pointing to the sphere. “This is where I shall collect it.” He tapped the helmet with the tip of one long finger, then traced along the wiring. “From the boy, to the wires, and, ultimately, to me.”
His smile caused Mordi’s blood to run cold. “Perfect,” he said. His lips curved into a frown. “Or it would be.”
“The boy,” Clyde said. “Allow me to retrieve him, sire.”
“No.” Hieronymous moved to his desk, then sat behind it, his fingers drumming on its solid surface. “You are still wanted by the Council. Should you be caught, the consequences would be dire.” Hieronymous paused, glancing casually at the monitors lining the wall. “And I still have need of you, so it would be most inconvenient if you were captured.”
Mordi shifted, having a feeling he knew what was coming. “Mordichai,” his father said, with a nod toward him. “The child must be acquired and brought here before midnight. You understand the consequences should you fail?”
Mordi swallowed and stepped forward. “Yes, Father.” And he did. He understood what would happen if he failed . . . and he knew what would happen if he succeeded.
Part of him wanted to leave this island, head to Olympus, and never look back. Another part of him wanted to please his father. To take up the reins of an empire.
He knew what he should do. What he would do, however, remained a question.
Lane laughed as Davy poked and prodded at the insides of the television. Behind him, Elmer chattered peevishly.
“You better hurry,” Lane said, “or Elmer won’t be speaking to you anymore.”
Davy just rolled his eyes. “Oh, Mo-om,” he said, drawing out the word. “I’ll get it back together.” A few more twists of wire and a bit more clanking, and he did exactly that. With a flourish, her show-off son put the casing back on. “See?” he said. “All done.”
Lane tried to keep her face serious. “And just what does it do?”
“Shows tomorrow’s television,” Davy said. “So you won’t miss your program.”
At that, Lane laughed outright, even as Elmer cluttered louder and started bouncing up and down.
“But sweetie,” she said, “Elmer’s show is coming on tonight.”
“Mrs. Doolittle” was set to begin in five minutes.
“Oh.” Davy picked up his screwdriver. “I’ll just take it apart again.”
“No, no, no.” Lane plucked the screwdriver from his hand. “Elmer can watch the television in Jason’s room.” She turned to Zoe. “Would you mind taking him up?”
Zoe’s head appeared. She was on the couch, holding hands with her husband.
“Oh,” Lane said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“What were you going to tell me?” Taylor said.
Zoe kissed his cheek. “Later,” she said. She stood up. “Come on, Elmer. Let’s go see what I’m sure will be your Emmy award-winning performance.”
Elmer skittered toward the stairs and Zoe followed. Taylor got up, shook his head, and excused himself to the kitchen.
Lane scowled, feeling like she was missing something. For a second she thought about going after Zoe, but a knock at the door changed her mind.
When Davy got up to answer, she put a hand on his shoulder, halting him. “You can get the door after your birthday, sweetie. Until then, stay behind me.”
She peered through the peephole. Aaron. She drew in a breath. She needed to talk to him, but that didn’t mean she wanted to. She let him in, and he immediately bent down and gave Davy a hug.
“Hey, big guy. How you doing?”
“I’m good,” Davy said. “I made a future TV.”
“Vivid imagination,” Lane said.
Davy tilted his head up. “Can I go play with Jason?”
She looked at Aaron, noting the man’s flash of disappointment. But after a second she nodded. “Sure, sweetie. Go ahead.”
“I guess I don’t rank anymore,” Aaron said after Davy had disappeared.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just—”
“Want him to get to know his father. Of course you do.” A sad smile touched Aaron’s lips. “It seems like he really likes the guy.”
Lane nodded. “Yeah. I think he really does.”
Aaron’s features hardened. “I take it he’s not the only one.”
“I . . .” Lane started to protest, but she couldn’t find the words. He was right. She drew in a deep breath, searching for courage. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
Aaron opened his mouth, and for a second she thought he was going to lash out. But then he took a deep breath and nodded, his eyes infinitely sad. “Believe me, I know that.” He shook his head. “And I never wanted to be second best. We both deserve better than that.” He reached into his briefcase and handed her a large envelope.
“What’s this?”
“Class notes,” he said. “I swung by UCLA and tracked down your study group.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “If you ever decide the district attorney’s office isn’t the place for you, give me a call.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he understood that she meant for more than just the notes. “I hope . . .”
“What?”
“Everything,” she finally said. “I hope you get everything you want. And I hope you find who you want.”
“Have you?” he asked, giving her one last look.
“Yes,” she answered. The word came to her lips without hesitation. Jason was everything she’d ever desired, everything she’d wanted in a man, a husband, and a father to her child. She’d told herself otherwise, but it had all been just self-protection. Now, she had to believe in him. She had to pray he wouldn’t disappoint her again.
“I’m glad,” Aaron said, pausing at the door. He squeezed her hand. “Good-bye, Lane.”
She watched him go until he stepped from the dock to the parking lot and disappeared into his car. She clutched the knob of the door, hoping she was doing the right thing. But as much as doubt gnawed at her, she knew that, in the end, this was best. She didn’t love Aaron, and she did love Jason. She loved him with all her heart, and she needed to trust him. It was scary, yes, but he’d promised to put Davy and her first, and she believed him.
So help her, she did.
They were going to put their family back together and push the past behind them. And they were going to live happily ever after. Everything she wanted, Jason could give her. At some point, she’d had to let go and just trust her heart.
She turned back into the houseboat, going straight for the glass door at the rear, to watch Jason and her son. Jason wasn’t there, but Davy was, sitting next to Boreas at a small metal table, clearly waiting for his dad to return.
And then Jason stepped into view, and Davy’s face lit up. Lane smiled, seeing how easily her boy went to Jason now. But then Jason kicked the table, knocking Boreas backward. At the same time, he grabbed his son around the waist, then ran to the edge of the boat, pulling a Propulsion Cloak out from under his jacket.
Mordichai.
As Davy screamed, Lane did, too. But it was too late. Mordi was long gone, flying toward the horizon and into the sunset.
And once again, he had her baby.
15
Lane’s scream still hung in the air when
Zoe saw Jason—the real one—dive from the top of his boat into the water, hot on Mordichai’s trail.
The clatter of feet rang out on the stairs, and Lane barreled down them, Taylor and Elmer right behind. They followed Zoe onto the patio, racing to Boreas’s side.
“Mordichai,” Zoe said.
Boreas groaned, pushing the table off him. “I didn’t recognize him as a shapeshifter until it was too late.”
Lane brushed tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “We have to go after them. We have to find Davy.”
Boreas shook his head. “Jason shouldn’t have gone,” he said. “Directive eight-two-seven-b is clear. It was proven back at the island when Jason almost got himself killed. And you’re Davy’s mother, so you’re even more involved. Plus you’re not a Protector. We have to get backup. The outcome of this isn’t predictable, so Directive nine-four-four-c prevents us from rushing in. It’s too dangerous.”
Lane stared at the cadet, her fists clenched at her sides. “This is my son, Boreas. And we’re going after him.”
“But regulations . . .”
“Boreas!” Zoe snapped, her heart wrenching. She clutched her stomach, thinking about her unborn child.
“But the rules . . .”
“Oh, please! I’m sorry Prigg yelled at you, but screw the rules,” Zoe said. “Call in backup, but take Lane and get to that island.”
Boreas’s gaze dropped to the ground, and to his smashed holo-pager. “I think it got busted by the table.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of getting backup,” Zoe said. “You two just go.”
Lane took the young Protector’s hands. “Please,” she said. Boreas swallowed.
Lane dropped his hands and turned to Zoe. “Fine. If you won’t, Zoe will take me.”
Zoe shook her head, wishing she could. “I ca—”
“I’ll do it,” Boreas said. “I will.” He nodded, as if convincing himself. “I mean, it may not be regulations, but it’s the right thing to do.”
“It is,” Lane said.
Boreas pointed a finger at her. “But no running off on your own. You stick with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s dangerous,” he added.
“I know,” Lane agreed with a nod.
“Willingly taking a mortal into peril . . .” he muttered. “They’re going to kick me off Olympus for this.”
Lane leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
He scowled, then shot Zoe a glare. “At least you’ll be going down with me. We’re both taking her into peril.”
Zoe licked her lips. “Uh, I’m afraid you’re on your own there.”
Taylor frowned. He’d been silent, but now he spoke up. “What are you talking about? We have to go help, too.”
“I can’t. I’m—”
“Are you kidding?” Taylor asked. “Of course we have to go.”
Again, Zoe shook her head. “We’re too slow by boat—at least with any boats I know how to use.” She turned to Boreas. “You’ll have to travel by Propulsion Cloak, and you can’t carry all three of us.”
“We’ll take your cloak,” Taylor said.
Zoe bit her lip. This wasn’t how she’d planned to tell him.
“I can’t,” she said, dodging the issue. “My powers are acting up. I can’t trust myself to keep a Propulsion Cloak in the air. It’s just Lane and Boreas, I’m afraid.”
Taylor pressed his hand to her forehead.
Lane frowned. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“What’s wrong?” Taylor said at the same time.
“I’m fine,” Zoe said. “Great, in fact.” She took Taylor’s hand. “I was looking for a better way to tell you, but—”
“Zoe?” Taylor interrupted, the concern clear in his voice. “What?”
She shot an apologetic glance Lane’s way, then tugged Taylor back toward the door, out of earshot.
Concern flashed in his eyes. “Sweetheart, you have to tell me what’s up.”
She couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. “I’ve been trying to tell you,” she said. “These aren’t exactly the circumstances I’d wanted, but . . .” She paused, drawing in a breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The worry in Taylor’s eyes faded in an instant, replaced by joy and love. His hand immediately went to her stomach. “Oh, babe, that’s . . . oh, wow.” He blinked, and a huge grin spread across his face. All at once, he threw his hands around her waist and picked her up, swinging her in a circle and laughing. “That’s wonderful!”
She laughed. “Yes, it is. But it’s messing up my powers.” Taylor looked back toward Lane. “So, you meant it when you said—”
“I really can’t go. I physically can’t get there. We might be halfway over the ocean, and then plonk, we’d fall in.”
He gnawed on his lower lip, looking at his sister. “I don’t want Lane to go either. Boreas can go alone. Lane hasn’t got any powers. She’ll just be—”
Zoe pressed a finger to his lips. “I know. You think she’ll just be in the way.” Her husband’s hand was still on her belly, and she covered it with her own. “But, believe me, she’s going if she has to swim there. Personally, I’d rather she go with Boreas.”
Lane fidgeted on the deck as she watched Taylor and Zoe. They all needed to go—needed to hurry up and retrieve Davy—and she shifted her weight from side to side, trying to stay calm and fight the hysteria fast building in her chest.
After a few minutes, her brother and his wife came back, hand in hand and positively glowing. She had a feeling she knew what they’d been talking about, and Taylor’s expression confirmed her suspicions. Pushing down her misery about Davy, she ran to Taylor and spared a moment to share his joy. She gave her brother a quick kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations,” she whispered.
“You knew?”
She shook her head. “I guessed.”
Zoe laughed. “I’ve been trying to tell him for days.”
Lane threw her arms around her sister-in-law. “Oh, Zo! This is fabulous,” she said, and Boreas seconded the comment. “But—”
“Go,” Zoe agreed, pointing toward the water. “We’ll talk later.”
Lane glanced at Taylor, who looked a little shell-shocked, but in an ecstatic he-man-look-what-I-did kind of way. She gave him another quick kiss on the cheek, and he squeezed her hand and swung an arm around Zoe’s shoulder. “Go on,” he said. “My baby needs his cousin back.”
“Right,” Lane said. She looked at Boreas. “Let’s go kick some Outcast butt.”
Boreas shifted his weight from one foot to another. “I want to,” he said. “But I don’t know where we’re going. Not exactly.”
Taylor cocked his head. “But you were there.”
Boreas nodded. “Yeah, but Jason programmed the boat’s autopilot. I never saw the coordinates. I can get us to the general vicinity, I guess . . .”
A fresh wave of fear twisted Lane’s stomach. “That won’t do us any good. The island’s invisible, remember? Without the exact location, we’re screwed.” She kicked at one of Jason’s deck chairs, then collapsed to the deck, a fresh flood of emotion bursting forth. “We have to find him. We have to do something.”
“How did Jason find it last time?”
Lane frowned. “The Lite-Brite map. But—”
She clamped her mouth shut. Elmer. She needed Elmer.
“Lane?” Zoe prompted. But Lane was already rushing through the boat toward Jason’s bedroom, the ferret and the map.
It might not be a GPS, but it was better than nothing.
What had he done? Oh, what had he done?
Mordi paced, skirting the edge of one of the little rivers of water that ran through the main cavern. A few feet away, his father tested the straps that bound Davy’s arms, legs, and chest. A helmet kept the terrified boy’s head firmly in place. The machine nearby beeped and hummed with life.
Hieronymous was taking no chances. There was one of the little orbs Mordi had seen him pitch at Jason
centered on the contraption’s flat control panel—just in case. Everything else was set, already turned on, so that at the stroke of midnight the machine did its thing.
All Mordi had to do was get through the night without throwing up.
From his chair, Davy stared up at Mordi with pleading eyes, his mouth taped shut to keep him silent. Mordi looked away, unable to meet the child’s glance.
“Your performance today pleases me, Mordichai,” Hieronymous said.
“Thank you, Father.” The words came out as a croak, and Mordi cleared his throat.
“Come.” Hieronymous gestured for his son to approach.
Mordi swallowed but went, even as Clyde glowered at him from the corner.
Hieronymous pressed his hand to Mordi’s back. “You will stand at my side as this great moment occurs,” he said. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall. “Only one more hour. Sixty short minutes, and I shall be more brilliant than anyone can imagine.” He sighed, thrusting his hands in front of him and flexing his fingers. “It is a great day. Is it not, my son?”
“Yes, sir,” Mordi said. “A great day.”
He stepped back a pace so he could lean against his father’s machine, afraid that his legs would give out otherwise. He felt queasy and faint and generally nauseous, and right then he wanted more than anything to turn back the clock. But he couldn’t. Which meant that he didn’t know what the hell he could do except go along with his father.
He just hoped like hell that Jason returned in time and somehow managed to save his son.
Jason approached from the water, moving with the stealth of a shark. Since Davy’s escape on Tuesday, Hieronymous had beefed up his security, and it had taken Jason over an hour to get past the new and improved booby traps—not to mention the time it had taken to get from the marina to the island.
But he’d made it, and now he was in the middle of the island stronghold’s main chamber, floating just under the surface of the water, waiting and watching.