Lovesick Gods

by Amanda Meuwissen

  If Danny had been waiting for the government to step in all these months, then he was more naïve than Mal thought. “You’re lucky they leave you alone. Could send in a whole squadron to track you down and force you into submission. They ever catch wind of your identity or you cause too much trouble, they still might.”

  “I don’t care.” Danny pounded a fist on the tabletop. “I can’t do this alone, Cho. The longer Thanatos is out there, the more people are going to get hurt. You’re the only person powerful enough that I can trust to have my back.”

  Trust? Six months of playing footsie during bank and jewelry heists had this kid thinking Mal was soft. Just because he didn’t ice security guards or civilians didn’t mean he was a good guy.

  Still, Danny’s desperation was understandable.

  Thanatos hadn’t killed enough people to warrant government intervention, but he’d still killed and terrorized the city’s citizens, even used his shadows to disintegrate a few buildings. Worst thing was he didn’t seem to have any overarching goal, just chaos for chaos’s sake, carnage for carnage, blood for blood. And every week he outdid himself.

  Mal had heard about what happened to Danny’s partner. Zeus had appeared shortly after Detective Edwards’s death. Made sense that Danny and the local superhero were one in the same; he’d probably been triggered that night, one of the very rare adults Awakened by trauma.

  Six months Thanatos had been terrorizing their city, but whenever he was lying low, Zeus didn’t follow suit. He kept his presence known by cleaning up the streets of lower level criminals, lesser Elementals, and, occasionally, Mal and his Titans.

  If Thanatos kept escalating the stakes, if Zeus really was certain he couldn’t beat him, something would have to give. Mal didn’t like the thought of what the city would look like under Thanatos’s control.

  Tapping his fingers along the table, he leaned forward to match Danny’s posture. “What exactly are you proposing?”

  ß

  “First, for the gas.” Priestly got straight to business once they’d left the main shop, delving into the darkness of the back rooms, and then coming upon the much brighter lights that shone on the worktables. He picked up what looked like a simple spray can. “As easy as it looks. When you’re ready to use it, press here,” he held the top down and a puff of air escaped, “with about a five-foot range.” Next, he picked up a hose. “Given the type of containment you described to me and the nozzle, this attachment and hose should work to transfer the gas into the canister. Need anything demonstrated for that part?”

  Mal eyed the hose, then the can itself. “Looks self-explanatory to me.”

  “Good.” Priestly set both items down again. “You can take these with you when you go. I’ll get you a bag. As for a power amplifier…” He scanned his eyes down Mal’s body, not quite appreciatively, though he didn’t shy from lingering on certain areas, and pursed his lips when he got to Mal’s hands. “The current levels of your power are capable of inflicting everything from mild frostbite to pretty much instant death, but if you want another option for handling cops that get in your way—or wayward heroes in white leather,” he added with a faint smirk that Mal echoed, “you need something a bit more atmospheric. A projection of cold with yourself at the center, protected, while the rest of the room, however large we make the radius, plummets to below freezing. You said you wanted something non-lethal. That would do it.”

  “And you can accomplish that for me? Unobtrusive accessory with simple controls?”

  “I’m thinking…wrist cuff.” He glanced at Mal’s hands again. “Fashion can come after function, but you should be able to hide it with your sleeve when not in costume.”

  “Perfect,” Mal nodded. “Dom was wondering if you could do something similar for her.”

  Mal’s Titans consisted of him, his sister Lucy, Priestly, and Mal’s oldest friend, Dominique Drake. They’d had a fifth member once, but he chose a different path.

  “Not a problem,” Priestly said. “Fire versus ice, but your abilities work on similar principles. Bring her in next time and I’ll outfit you both.”

  That would keep Dom appeased leading up to the heist. She wasn’t called Helios for being cool-headed. On the other hand, “Lucy’s going to be jealous.” Mal’s sister hated when he got new toys without her. “Earth powers don’t have the same impact to make an amplifier worthwhile.”

  “I have something else for our dear Gaia,” Priestly said as he retrieved a bag to collect Mal’s spoils. “Very classic femme fatale item she wondered if I could make. I said it was stupid and ridiculous and that yes, I absolutely would have to try since she asked, so hopefully I’ll have a prototype ready about the same time as your cuffs.”

  Mal folded his hands in front of him as his smile went crooked. “It’s knockout lipstick, isn’t it?

  “How’d you know?”

  The Ambushers was a guilty pleasure movie for him and his sister ever since they were kids, along with a few others, though usually Lucy didn’t appreciate too many films before 1980. In it, a lady spy used poisoned lipstick while sipping on a drink that acted as the antidote.

  “We change, we age, we grow,” he said, “but some things always stay the same, and I know my sister. How soon can you have everything done? We need to be able to test out the amplifiers with at least a few days’ leeway before the job at the museum.”

  “Give me a week,” Priestly said, looking unimpressed as he set the now filled bag between them and crossed his arms. “Eight to nine days max.”

  “Done. Usual fee and overhead for the Andrews?”

  “Only on the cuffs. Lucy gave me a real challenge with the chemistry for the lipstick. That’s on the house.”

  “Careful,” Mal smirked. “At this rate she’s likely to ask to keep you. She always wanted a baby brother.”

  Priestly snorted. “I’d take you two over my parents any day.”

  “Well,” Mal said, spreading his arms to encompass the room filled with contraband, “we’re clearly better role models.”

  Priestly’s father was a white-collar criminal who’d gotten fifteen years for embezzlement—right after he disowned his son for coming out as gay. Good riddance, as far as Mal was concerned.

  Hefting the bag to take his leave, he noticed Priestly’s demeanor shift, tense and antsy now that he knew his time with Mal was limited. “Something else on your mind?” he asked.

  “I saw Sean Dunkirk in the area again,” Priestly admitted. “Couple days ago. He didn’t do anything. I couldn’t tell if he was carrying, but—”

  “Tell me immediately when something like this comes up,” Mal spoke to him directly. “If Dunkirk’s showing more of a presence lately, you know why.”

  “Got it, boss. Sorry.” Priestly averted his eyes. “He was alone. I figured that meant Dunkirk Senior wasn’t giving him any support.”

  “He’s not, but that doesn’t mean Sean is any less of a threat. Next time, tell me the second you see him.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “Think nothing of it, Hart, but stay alert. Titans have to watch each other’s backs, remember?”

  A relieved smile twitched at Priestly’s lips. “Yeah, boss.”

  Most people would assume the man’s presence was mob-related or doubt the importance of a single figure, but Dunkirk’s show of impertinence had nothing to do with territories. Mal had expected for him to start lurking again, because the last time Dunkirk came snooping was six months ago—just like Danny.

  ß

  “So that’s the deal,” Danny said, all his cards on the table, including his identity. “You help me with Thanatos on the day I specify and keep my identity a secret, and I’ll leave you alone. I’ll make a good show of things whenever you pull a heist, so the public doesn’t catch wise, but if I win, I’ll let you go. I’ll never take you to the police, and you’ll nev
er see me in your neighborhood again.”

  “Let’s not get carried away, Sparky,” Mal said. “I wouldn’t say no to a drink someday. On you, of course.”

  Danny fell into an easy chuckle that made his dimples crease. The way his body moved, his voice, his power, had entranced Mal from day one facing Zeus, but seeing the real him was far more appealing. “Just promise me you’ll be there, Ice Man. Please,” he said, a little too openly for Mal’s taste, far more vulnerable than he should risk in front of his nemesis.

  And Prometheus was his nemesis, not Thanatos. That title carried a certain amount of respect despite being at odds. Thanatos never understood that.

  “I’ll be there,” Mal said.

  The thing was, he’d had every intention of following through.

  ß

  As Mal headed toward one of his safe houses to deposit the items he’d acquired from Priestly, he thought back to six months ago when he’d last seen Danny. He’d carried out a simple heist right after Thanatos was defeated, and Danny had delivered him to the police without a second thought. After all, Mal hadn’t fulfilled his end of the bargain.

  When the kid slapped power-dampening cuffs on his wrists—as Detective Grant not Zeus—Mal had whispered to him with a twist of a smile. “I still know your secret, Sparky. I won’t spill the beans this time, but does that make us even for my little no-show?”

  Danny had looked at him as though he were the one with a heart of ice. “Not a chance,” he said and slammed the squad car door.

  Mal broke out of prison a month later, but the kid never came calling to drag him back. Now, Mal couldn’t help but wonder what Danny might be up to.

  Chapter 3

  Danny hissed as Lynn cracked his nose back into place, then handed him a damp cloth to wipe away the blood. She’d done the same for Camo first, cleaned him up as best she could so he’d be able to rest comfortably in one of the morgue’s store rooms until morning.

  It might seem morbid that they held criminals in the precinct’s old morgue before transport to the Elemental wing, but it was the most secure place in the building, even more secure than the actual morgue.

  The whole past year of Danny’s life had been built on coincidence. After the encounter with Thanatos that triggered his Elemental Awakening, he’d blinked out of his first lightning jump right outside the precinct. Crawling his way to a side door that was blessedly unlocked, he lay in the hallway unsure of what to do, while his heart rate seemed out of control and he could barely breathe as his powers stabilized.

  That’s when Andre and Lynn had found him.

  As a detective at the precinct, Danny knew them both, but only in passing—Andre Vaughn the CSI and Lynn Rivers the medical examiner. It wasn’t until that night when they happened upon Danny by accident that the three of them became close.

  Everyone on earth was element leaning toward something—Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Lightning, Light, Dark, or Metal. In some cases there were even specialties, like Water people focused on Ice or Earth people communing more with seismic occurrences than plants. For most people that meant trivial things. The color of their eyes that marked them at birth, and maybe, if they were lucky, they’d get some resistance to or benefit from their element, like a Water person being able to breathe underwater longer or someone Air leaning growing into an elegant dancer.

  Only a handful of the population had true abilities, powers tied to their element that stood them above the rest. In Olympus City, Malcolm Cho’s father had been the only notable Elemental for years, until the Titans themselves and a few stragglers like Camouflage came along.

  Then Thanatos had come. Then Zeus had been born. Then everything…changed.

  Lynn had dragged them down to the basement that night through a locked door no one knew existed, into the old morgue where a handful of forgotten rooms spanned half the length of the station.

  “Everyone thinks this is just some tiny storage area,” she’d said. “Someone made a mistake on the blueprints when they did renovations. It looks like this is all part of the parking garage now, so no one bothered to explore it. I broke in here one night looking for medical supplies and discovered the truth. I come down here sometimes when I need to be alone.”

  Danny had been too out of it at the time to question the M.E. about why she hadn’t reported the mystery half of the basement to the captain. He hadn’t been fully coherent again until hours later.

  Now, trapped in the present, he was coherent but didn’t feel like talking. Lynn hadn’t said a word about the state of Camo since Danny brought him in, though Andre had uttered a surprised, “Dude,” that made Danny flare with anger more than shame.

  Which he knew was backwards. He should feel ashamed. He could have killed the man. He’d let himself get angry, and it had led to Camo likely having a concussion, not to mention the cuts and bruises. But Danny either felt empty or justifiably bitter these days, and neither emotion resembled the relief he craved. He just wanted to sleep, wake up in the morning, and be a different man. Be someone other than Danny Grant or Zeus.

  “Danny?” Andre said with a note of confusion.

  Blinking, Danny looked up, only to see both Andre and Lynn hovering in front of him like they’d been standing there for a while. “Huh? What? Did you say something?” He hopped down from the hospital bed in the autopsy room they used as a med room. It was ten by twenty feet at most, with a large observation window looking out into the main area. Danny was still in costume, cowl back, body drained and tired, but not as sore as he’d be if he weren’t an Elemental.

  He dropped the now bloodied cloth on top of the hospital bed next to the wrapper of the protein bar he’d downed when he first got back. His super healing also meant super hypoglycemia if he wasn’t careful.

  Andre’s grey eyes widened, while Lynn’s blue ones narrowed and she pursed her lips. They were both so stereotypical of their leanings—Andre a technician as Metal, even more talented with computers and engineering than he was as a CSI; and Lynn a natural healer as Water, though she focused more on dead bodies as the medical examiner. Andre was only a couple years out of college, while Lynn was a few years older than Danny and wore prim, tailored dresses under her lab coat.

  Danny could sense the lecture coming, from Lynn in particular. He knew he deserved it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  “What happened tonight?” she asked, her silver-colored glasses almost blending in with the white-blond of her hair.

  “I told you. It was dark,” Danny said. “I didn’t see the damage I’d done until the lights came on. I was frantic from the fight. He kept getting the jump on me.”

  “And that would be fine,” she said, arms crossed in reprimand, “if I thought you were being honest with us. But the Danny I know, even if this was an accident, would be beating himself up over hurting someone that badly. Lately, you’ve been…”

  “What?” Danny took a step closer to his friend when she trailed. He almost expected her and Andre to back up a step and felt anger swirl in his gut when they didn’t.

  “Dude, chill,” Andre held up his hands like appeasing a small child. His tightly braided hair hung long past his shoulders, half-tied back as it rested against his dark skin. “You’ve been extra intense the past few weeks, okay? Like all your nerves are fried. If that leads to catching the baddies that much better, I’m all for it, but that…”

  “But that what?” Danny challenged again. Took a step toward them—again. “Is what I did any worse than how my enemies have left me this past year? Just because I heal faster doesn’t mean I haven’t been beaten. And hurt. And near death more than once—”

  “Which is awful, Danny,” Lynn stepped into his path, “and I wish we could prevent you from ever getting hurt like that again, but that doesn’t justify stooping to the level of the people you stop.”

  Rage curdled in Danny’s veins because it
was a familiar lecture lately, and as the need to lash out warred within him, he whirled around and slammed his fists down onto the hospital bed, buckling it and crashing it to the floor.

  “Danny!”

  “Dude, what is your problem?!”

  “My problem is it never stops!” Danny yelled, louder and fiercer in his anger as he faced away from them. He couldn’t see straight for how he shook and boiled on the inside. “They take my mother and they take my time—my days, my nights, my life. Thanatos, Cho, all of them! They take everything…and what they don’t take leaves.

  “Vanessa left me. My father can barely look at me. And something I once thought was a gift, that I would have chosen if I could, would have asked for if chance hadn’t given it to me, now is something I can’t escape. I can never escape or stop, because the second I stop, someone is going to die, and it’s going to be the wrong person again, someone I love and can’t protect.

  “So why can’t I hurt someone first, for once, huh? When do I get the upper hand? When do I get a fucking break?!”

  He kicked the hospital bed with such force that the whole thing went flying into the wall with a shock of lightning trailing it and smacked into the window, causing a crack three feet long to form and nearly shatter the whole thing into fragments.

  Danny gaped at what he’d done the moment the carnage settled. It was like some spell had lifted, breaking through the surface of his numbness and leaving him with this awful, potent sadness. He didn’t realize he’d started to cry until he sniffled, then lifted a hand to his face and felt the wetness on his cheeks that had nothing to do with dried blood or the cloth he’d used to wipe it away.

  The silence smothered him. He was afraid to turn around, to see how his friends would look at him after he’d done something so reckless and frightening—again.