Lovesick Gods

by Amanda Meuwissen

  When she lost her parents—the first time. That had seemed so much easier when Danny was removed from it. He sometimes forgot that Stella was grieving again too.

  Her words should have carried with them the comfort he craved, but Danny felt hollow. Once again someone had to put him back together because he didn’t know how to do it himself.

  “I’m okay, Stella,” he said anyway, wiping his eyes and taking a breath. “I have to go. But I’ll be there for dinner this week, I promise. You can help cheer me up by beating my ass at Sports & Leisure.”

  Stella laughed. “If you’re sure.” She always gave him that same out, the chance to say one more thing.

  The only thing he was sure about was that his life was a disaster.

  “I’m sure. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Letting Stella hang up first, Danny paused to stare at the tremble in his hand before he hurled his phone away from him, finally giving into the temptation of the past several weeks. It struck the wall by the kitchen door and clattered to the ground. If it hadn’t been for the phone case, his outburst would have shattered the screen, but it still did the job of hanging up the call.

  As he wiped the dampness from his eyes, guilt and anger and so much nothing boiled inside of him like some churning, dangerous storm. He couldn’t even call Cho to relieve the pressure. The only thing he could do was hit the streets and hope that luck was on his side to catch some sign of Ludgate or that some mugger had chosen the wrong night to do bad.

  Footsteps sounded from down the hall. The click of heels. Lynn. Danny would get his phone later when he hung up his suit for the night. Right now, he just wanted to get away.

  Pulling down his mask, he told Andre over the comms that he was hitting the streets and lightning jumped out of the morgue.

  Chapter 13

  It was Friday. Freaking Friday. All Danny wanted was to take a half-day and screw patrol. He deserved his Friday night. He’d already given up another Thursday to family dinner, and it wasn’t as if that had been bad, but it wasn’t thrilling either when the release he craved was significantly more carnal.

  Cho had called him last night and had indeed asked what Danny was wearing. Danny had considered answering, “I could come show you,” but it was late and he was too tired. If he’d gone over then, he wouldn’t have wanted to zip back to his own bed until morning, which would have complicated things more than he was ready for.

  Cho did eventually ask him to show him though. “What’s that newfangled thing the kids are using?”

  “FaceTime?” Danny had snickered. And soon they were looking at each other while they talked. Cho on top of his bedding in soft sleep pants and a long sleeved T-shirt, while Danny pulled back his covers to reveal that he slept in his underwear. He ran too hot most days for anything more.

  He’d scanned his phone down his body for Cho to see. Then ran his hand down his chest. They watched each other touch themselves for the camera and came practically overlapping in less than ten minutes. Danny felt blissfully tired in the aftermath but not fulfilled.

  “Tomorrow night?” Cho had asked before they hung up.

  “Chasing down The Invisible Man. Saturday?”

  “Deal. Text me a time.”

  “I will. Night, Ch—” Danny caught himself. “Mal.”

  “Good night, Danny.”

  Everything had seemed so simple in that moment.

  “What do you got for me, Grant?”

  “Huh?” Danny clutched the edge of his desk to keep from toppling out of his chair at the interruption.

  “Answer personal calls on your own time.” Captain Shan narrowed his sharp, brown eyes on Danny’s phone as he entered, stalking right up to the desk.

  The dark and imposing man didn’t usually frequent Danny’s office, at least not since he’d last mentioned kicking him out of it. There was no Task Force anymore with only one member left; Danny should have been moved to a normal desk ages ago. But he would have been out amongst the other officers already if the captain meant his threats.

  “This is a high profile case, Grant, with a lot of bureaucratic bullshit on my ass because of how soon those thefts happened after each other. We need real evidence. Something more to pin it on Ludgate. Something to tell us where he is.”

  Danny fought away the glare that sprang to his face and looked down at the wide array of lab results scattered over his desk. “I know that, Captain, I wasn’t—” He stopped himself before making an excuse about his phone; Shan wouldn’t care. “I’m doing everything I can. I’ve scoured what the team brought back—twice. Ludgate’s still technically just a person of interest. The forensics team—”

  “I’m not asking the forensics team, Grant, I’m asking you.” Sometimes Danny would swear Shan was an Elemental from the way he seemed to make the earth tremble beneath his feet. “I expect more from you. Do you think I let you keep this space because of your father’s influence?” He glanced around the expansive room that Danny had all to himself, even though Danny would have preferred the morgue if he could be down there alone whenever he wanted—and how messed up was it that he felt more at home in an old morgue than his office? “I don’t do nepotism,” Shan finished bluntly.

  “No, sir, I know.” Danny clenched his fists beneath his desk and muttered, “Pretty sure it’s because no one else wants an office they call ‘The Tomb’.” And that was the real kicker, that the two places Danny spent most of his time were both grounded in death and decay.

  Shan’s glower in response to him even vaguely talking back was withering enough to kill the plants in the room—if Danny had any that had survived Rick’s death. As the man stepped closer to the desk, Danny felt the need to retreat, even though he was sitting.

  “Give me something, Grant. Anything that might be hiding a fiber we could trace to Ludgate. Even once we have him in custody, we don’t have enough to hold him. Check everything a third time if you have to. No one leaves nothing.”

  Danny was so sick of hearing that—because apparently this guy did. But regardless, he nodded.

  “Good.” Shan backed up a step before turning fully to head out of the room. “Can’t expect Zeus to do all the heavy lifting,” he said as he left, which only made Danny angrier, because little did Shan know, Zeus was doing the heavy lifting.

  Shaking that thought away, Danny reminded himself that he had Andre and Lynn helping too, not to mention his father’s efforts. Even as Zeus, he wasn’t responsible for everything. It just felt like that most days. And Shan was no help.

  Danny’s phone buzzed. It was Andre texting about tonight’s patrol and asking him to come down ASAP after his shift ended, with takeout to share maybe, please?, because Andre and Lynn weren’t sure if they’d get the chance to leave the precinct.

  It shouldn’t have made Danny angrier, because his friends were working hard too, but now was not the time to ask him for favors.

  “Hey, Dann—”

  “What?” Danny barked before even looking to see who had entered.

  John stood halfway to Danny’s desk with his hands raised. “Whoa. Calm down, kiddo. What’s up? Shan giving you a hard time?”

  Danny sighed. He was doing it again—taking his frustrations out on everyone who didn’t deserve it. He needed more justifiable targets, though he’d prefer to stop feeling like he needed to punch something. “No more than usual. He’s right anyway. I should be able to see past this, find something everyone else is missing. It’s one thing if the evidence doesn’t point at anyone, it’s another to have no evidence at all.”

  “You’re not on this case alone. We’re partners this time, remember? Hey, maybe this’ll cheer you up,” John said, smiling good-naturedly as he perched on the edge of Danny’s desk. “Got a new list of places for you to patrol tonight. Ludgate is not trying to stay hidden. Got witnesses all over town who’ve seen him, a couple even from this
morning.”

  Danny wished that news could perk up his foul mood. “We’ve been trying that all week, Dad. He’s been seen around both crime scenes, neighborhoods nearby, and other places around the city, but everyone says the same thing—that sure, they saw him, but he seems to appear out of nowhere and disappear just as easily. No one knows how he’s coming and going.”

  “Which is exactly why a new list of places to stakeout should narrow your search. Basic police work, kiddo. A pattern has to emerge eventually.”

  “You can’t make a pattern out of random,” Danny grumbled.

  “I thought random was a pattern?”

  Looking up at his father, Danny couldn’t help but chuckle at the man’s patient ‘I’ll get you to break eventually’ stare. He used to pull that all the time when Danny was younger. Danny didn’t realize how much he’d missed it these past six months while things were tense between them.

  “Sorry. It is a pattern. You’re right. Which makes it even more likely that he’s an Elemental, it’s just—” Danny stopped mid-thought as he realized—Elemental.

  Random. Seen all over the city. Entering and exiting places with tons of loot in almost no time at all, with no one seeing him!

  “He’s a teleporter! Like Hermes! That would explain everything!” Danny tossed his phone to the end of his desk and started rifling through his spread out reports at almost lightning speed.

  “Atta boy,” John said, patting the desk as he stood up. “And just think. Already had an epiphany and the day’s only half-over.”

  Danny looked up with a glare at the joke, but John just laughed. Allowing himself to break into a similar smile if only to appease his father, Danny knew he had to be careful or John would start to really worry, like everyone else was. Then he’d have to sit Danny down for one of his ‘talks’. Right now Danny preferred the smile—the real smile—that had been missing for so many months.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Danny said as John headed off. At least now he had some direction.

  What slowly started to eat at him, though, was that the evidence definitely suggested he was right—Ludgate had to be teleporting—but that didn’t actually help. Danny’s best bet would still be blind luck stumbling upon Ludgate somewhere or trying to figure out where he might hit next to get ahead of him. But that was just as unlikely, since Virgil Labs and the glassworks had nothing in common.

  Danny’s phone buzzed again. Then again. Again. Andre. Lynn. Stella wondering about next week’s family dinner already. Looking to his computer for a distraction, he saw the accumulation of emails piling up that he hadn’t read since lunch. He glanced at the paperwork that told him nothing. At his phone again. Damn it.

  Even a breakthrough felt like the room was growing smaller, the walls slowly inching closer to him, with Rick’s desk looming like an unmarked grave, making him feel suffocated and prickly beneath his skin like he was about ready to—

  Danny froze and stared at his hand as he realized he’d picked up his phone again and nearly hurled it at the wall. He doubted it could survive a second impact, especially if he unintentionally used his powers.

  Taking a breath, he pulled his phone close and swiped his screen awake. None of his new texts were from Cho, but that was the only person he wanted to see right now.

  ß

  Mal pulled out his phone to see who had messaged him as he waited for Mrs. Pak to return from the back of the general store. He’d tried to tell her that he was fine, he didn’t need anything, never needed anything unless he was picking up groceries, which he’d already done that week, but convincing the woman of such things was like talking to a brick wall. She’d just speak right over him, going a million miles a minute.

  The text was from Danny. Busy?

  Errands.

  Illegal errands?

  Mal smirked as he texted back, Not technically.

  Want company?

  Mal’s smile dropped. It was the middle of the day. They weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow. Considering his answer for several seconds, he reminded himself where he was and what he was up to. He had more stops to go before he could head home.

  Not a good time.

  Where are you? I can meet you.

  Persistent. Something must have happened. Maybe the Ludgate case.

  Corner store in my neighborhood, he replied, not thinking for a moment that Danny could find him on that information. I’ll message you when I’m done and we can—Mal was still typing when he caught sight of a faint spark of light and looked up to see Danny walking through the door.

  How…?

  “Hey,” Danny said, looking windblown and antsy in a blazer and navy trench coat that Mal would have adored in any other situation. Mal was dressed for his own routine day at work, with his glasses on and hair tied back in a messy bun.

  Pocketing his phone, he kept his face neutral. “How did you find me?”

  “You said corner store, so I just…checked all the corners,” Danny shrugged.

  “All—”

  “Can’t do that too often though, or I tend to pass out,” he added with a light laugh. It was stilted, forced. He had his hands jammed into his pockets and couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. Danny was always a little restless—he had lightning in his veins—but this was different.

  He wanted distraction. Escape. Normally, Mal was only too happy to provide, but he was on the job at the moment. It didn’t matter that nothing about this part of his work was strictly illegal.

  “Danny, I need you to pay close attention,” Mal spoke slowly, steeling his expression to show that he was not amused—even if he was a little. “I did not invite you along. I said now isn’t a good time and it isn’t. You can’t be here—”

  “For you, Mickey. Take, take.” Mrs. Pak reappeared and pushed a large, warm bag of aromatic food into his arms that was far more than he could ever eat alone.

  Turning away from Danny’s hurt expression to address the woman, Mal said, “Mrs. Pak, I tried to explain—”

  “Need more for friend?” She gestured at Danny.

  Mal sighed because Danny’s smile was starting to peek through again. “No.” He switched to Korean and stated plainly, “You never need to give me anything.”

  “Nonsense,” she answered just as rapid-fire in her native tongue, then went on a little too fast for Mal to follow, though he definitely caught something about ‘protection’ and ‘good boy’ and ‘too skinny’ with some endearment attached to his name. He was pretty sure the skinny comment was for Danny, though he never knew with Mrs. Pak.

  “You speak Korean?” Danny said, rather than address the fact that he shouldn’t be there at all.

  Mal shot him a scowl. “Very little. And very poorly.”

  “He too modest,” Mrs. Pak said, because of course she’d engage Danny in conversation. “Better every day. You need more, Mickey, you say so.” Patting Mal’s arm three times, she was soon gone as the afternoon rush started to come in, relieving him of her doting attention.

  “I thought ‘Mickey’ was reserved for Lucy,” Danny said with a self-assured smirk.

  Mal refused to smile back at him. “It is, she… Lucy was with me when we first… I didn’t want to be rude,” he finally blurted, which only served to make Danny more pleased with himself.

  “You didn’t want to be rude. To the little Korean lady who’s giving you kickbacks.”

  Mal did not have to take this. He’d gotten what he needed from Mrs. Pak and much more, as always, so he turned on his heel and headed for the exit. “It’s not a kickback. It’s leftovers. That ‘little Korean lady’ makes the best bulgogi you’ll ever taste.”

  “Does that mean I get some?” Danny eyed the bag with enthusiasm once they were out on the street.

  “Unlikely, considering you’re about to scram.”

  “Oh, come on, what’s the big deal? W
here are you going next?”

  Turning to Danny completely exasperated, Mal pulled him out of the way of a pedestrian about to pass by on the sidewalk, half to keep Danny from being a roadblock and half to bring the kid closer. “None of your business,” he answered sharply.

  Mal thought that would be the end of it, but Danny just stared at him, and when his smile dropped, his eyes looked—damn it. Pleading.

  “It’s nothing exciting, Sparky, or that requires company. I’m just making some weekly...check-ins.”

  As amusement lit up his face again, Danny’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god, you are a mob boss.”

  Jerking Danny by the sleeve of his trench coat, even though no other passersby were close enough to have overheard, Mal snapped, “Please, Detective. Be louder.”

  “Wait,” Danny glanced around them, “how much of this neighborhood is yours? Here…down to Haven…your apartment building…” He spun in a slow circle as he listed everything off and painted a mental picture in his mind of the area. His eyes were wide when he turned back to Mal.

  It wasn’t that big of a radius. “Danny…”

  Stuffing his hands into his pockets again, Danny regarded Mal like he had everything figured out. “So what do you charge these people if that’s the tip,” he nodded at the bulgogi.

  Mal debated for all of ten seconds whether or not he should paint a harsher picture to keep Danny in line or tell him the truth. The heist was a week from Monday. Mal couldn’t afford to alienate his nemesis now, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to. But in the long run, everything hinged on Danny believing Mal would stick to their deal, which he had every intention of honoring—as long as it continued to suit his aims.

  Even if Danny was being a little shit.

  “They give me things because they choose to,” Mal said, indicating the general store, then looking around at the other obvious shops and places of business in the neighborhood. “If you want to call me a mob boss, fine. I do offer protection, but I never ask for anything in return. Things…happened when I first moved in. It wasn’t overnight. Some of them have kept the police off my back. They think they owe me. They don’t. But if it keeps a positive relationship going, I won’t prevent it from continuing.”