“There’s an alarm going off on 7th,” Andre spoke over her.
“Andre.”
“Could be nothing, no one’s reported anything official yet, but it’ll give you a jump across town.”
Danny pushed from the wall, turned on his heels, and lightning jumped away. There was some muffled arguing between Andre and Lynn, then the comms went quiet like they’d turned off the mics on their end. Danny didn’t care.
He knew he was being childish, foolish. He knew catching one criminal after failing with Ludgate wouldn’t fix anything, couldn’t fix that he was broken even when he had a few good days under his belt. On a dime, the pain and anger and emptiness reared its head and reminded him that he failed more than he won, and was it really worth it? Was any of it worth it?
Answers that should have come easily to Danny eluded him. If he couldn’t escape the pain, then he wanted to inflict it on someone else. That’s what Cho was for, he told himself; that was the whole point of leading Cho on. But right now he wanted to deliver pain with his fists and not care about the consequences, and for that he needed a face he didn’t know.
“Danny, I think you should come back to the precinct,” Lynn said, calm and deliberate. Andre remained quiet.
“I’m at 7th,” Danny ignored her. “Which building?”
Lynn sighed.
Eventually, Andre responded, “302. The smoke shop.”
Danny spotted it, and not seeing any activity in the front, he dashed around to the back. There hadn’t been many people on the street, and the alley behind the smoke shop was utterly dead—save the man trying to get the deadbolt off the door that he’d already picked open and had propped. He had his hand shoved up inside the opening, fiddling with a screwdriver as he tried to take the deadbolt off completely.
He didn’t see Danny.
The usual banter Danny would have used to startle the man stayed still on his tongue. He rushed him, hauling him up by the shoulders and spinning him around to press him into the wall beside the door. The screwdriver clattered to the ground, the man’s eyes wide in surprise. His hair was chin length and greasy, face unshaven, eyes clouded probably from drugs. Danny instantly loathed him—perfect.
“Hey, man, uhh…it’s not what it looks like!”
“Danny, there’s a cruiser only a block down,” Lynn said. “They’re headed your way. Just—”
“Ah!” the thief cried out, grimacing as he looked at each of his forearms that Danny had pinned to the wall with his superior strength.
Danny knew he was strong even without using his lightning. His constantly regenerating cells made it easier to push his body beyond normal human limits. He wondered how easy it would be to break the man’s arms when he could feel the delicateness of the bones beneath his fingers…
“Zeus, man, come on,” the thief said, head lolling back against the wall as he continued to grit his teeth in pain. “It hurts, man. I’m just jonesing for a smoke, ya know. Don’t mean anybody no harm.”
Danny tightened his grip.
“Shit, shit, stop!” the man cried louder. “I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry! Gimme to the cops already!”
“Danny, what are you doing?” Lynn demanded. “The police are almost there.”
It was like a warning, like a threat—you better stop or the police will catch you. Catch you doing something bad, something wrong. Danny was the good guy. Danny was the hero. Danny was the one who always had to be on the right side of the law, be as near perfect as possible, or people ended up dead. He just wanted the opposite to be true for once.
He didn’t want to kill the man in front of him, but would it really be so wrong to hurt him enough to make sure he never hurt anybody else? When did breaking and entering escalate? What would this man have done if someone else had caught him tonight instead of Zeus?
Squeezing the man’s arms tighter, Danny felt the bones beneath his grasp begin to creak.
The man screamed and it should have made Danny want to stop, but as his anger waned, the awful numbness that was so much worse replaced it. Where had all those happy feelings gone in so short a time? And all because Ludgate got away when Danny had told himself, convinced himself it didn’t matter.
But it did matter. It always mattered. He always had to be better.
“Danny!” Andre shouted so loudly over the comms that Danny flinched. “Stop.”
All at once, Danny released the man’s wrists, who immediately whimpered and clutched at his arms, bowled over with tears in his eyes.
“What is wrong with you, man?! You’re fucking crazy! Crazy! It’s just a damn smoke shop, man! I didn’t hurt nobody!”
But Danny had. Danny had almost…
He felt sick, like he might throw up. I’m not like him, I’m not like him, I’m not like—
“Who, Danny?” Andre finished, startling Danny that he’d muttered that out loud.
He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t think it.
“Danny, please, answer us,” Lynn begged.
“I just thought that if you let out some steam,” Andre said, “you’d feel better, but you can’t—”
“I’m fine,” Danny said on reflex, even though he knew it wasn’t what they wanted to hear, and it definitely wasn’t the truth. “I stopped. I’m…I’m getting out of here.”
Danny grabbed the man and jumped with him around to the front of the building where the police had just pulled up. Leaving the thief on the sidewalk, he jumped again, not knowing where he wanted to go but feeling the fatigue of overusing his powers creep up on him like cloying shadows.
Shadows…
“Danny, please come back to the precinct,” Lynn said.
Sparking out of his lightning somewhere unfamiliar, Danny leaned against a building to catch his breath. He was getting disoriented, jumping randomly as his powers drained. “I can’t. I need to call it a night. I need to go…” Home, he thought, but that wasn’t where he wanted to go either. “I just need to go.”
He should have taken the pills. Why hadn’t he taken the pills? He wished he had them with him now.
“Danny,” Andre tried, “we’ve been over this. We’re here for you. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
“I know,” Danny said, and in that moment he knew there was only one place he wanted to be. “I won’t.”
Reaching up to shut off his comms, he risked jumping one last time—to Cho’s apartment.
ß
Hades had been so very upset when he first saw Zeus stick his head into the alley he’d been walking down, certain for a moment that his true power had been uncovered. But no…no. Zeus didn’t know nearly as much as he thought he did.
Detective work, he’d said. Hades knew Zeus’s day job well now thanks to Prometheus, but keeping tabs on Danny Grant was difficult. He used his powers all the time, jumping across the city in seconds, making it impossible to know where he hung his hat or where he had his headquarters as Zeus.
Hades would find out soon enough, but while he’d been distracted tailing Prometheus, he wouldn’t allow Zeus to get the jump on him again. One day Zeus would know what Hades was really capable of; how he moved, how he worked, and how, with his powers, he was the only person alive who could do what he did and survive.
Finally, he was a villain worthy of Thanatos’s legacy.
Soon, Zeus, he thought. Especially with Prometheus’s heist on the horizon. Claiming the Winterheart Diamond first was going to be ever so much fun.
ß
Before digging for his keys to head into his apartment, Mal rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. It was late. Later than he liked. Staying up after midnight was always a pain leading up to a heist, but if he didn’t work a few late nights, even adrenaline wouldn’t be enough to keep him alert come the real thing. Most heists didn’t happen in the middle of the day; this one was going t
o be well after closing. He’d been at the safe house ever since leaving Priestly at the shop. Right now, Mal just wanted to sleep.
Pushing inside, despite how exhausted he was, he instantly knew he wasn’t alone. Someone was in his apartment.
Right arm shooting out in front of him, Mal iced over in defense as he aimed outward from the dark entryway. The door clicked softly shut behind him. Nothing stirred, but within the otherwise quiet, there was the faint sound of even breathing.
Dropping his hand, Mal let the ice recede as he took further stock of the room. In front of the coat closet door was a pair of very recognizable gold boots.
He relaxed, locked the door behind him, and reached for the light switch. Then he stopped. Even breathing. Lights still off. He considered calling out but thought better of that too. Slowly, after toeing off his shoes, he stepped into the living room, moving toward the sound of those indistinct breaths.
Even in the dark, Mal could make out the figure on his sofa. Sprawled out, cowl drawn back to reveal a mess of ginger hair, suit unzipped, Danny laid there fast asleep.
Mal should have been annoyed to find his hero having once again broken into his home, in full Zeus costume, no less, but he couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at his lips as he watched the slow rise and fall of Danny’s chest. The tousle of his hair. The subtle part to his lips as he slept. Damn if Mal wasn’t smitten, seeing the kid so undone.
For now he’d let him sleep. Any fallout could wait until tomorrow.
Chapter 17
Something smelled amazing. Like…cinnamon? Was Dad making cinnamon rolls?
Danny stirred, blinking up at the ceiling as he snuggled in deeper under the covers. His alarm hadn’t gone off yet, so he had to have a little extra time. But breakfast smelled so good. So did his sheets, come to think of it, though he didn’t remember washing them recently. Only it wasn’t that fresh clean smell, more like remnants of a very familiar cologne…
Bolting upright as his brain came to full alertness, Danny realized—remembered, oh god, what had he been thinking—that he was not in his own bedroom. He was in Cho’s. In Cho’s bed. He hadn’t gone up to the bedroom himself, had he? He couldn’t have. He’d waited on the sofa, planning a surprise strip tease once Cho walked through the door. Only the thief hadn’t come home, and instead Danny had laid back against the cushions and closed his eyes. He’d been so exhausted from the excess lightning jumps.
Glancing down at the covers pooled in his lap, he saw that he wasn’t wearing his costume now. He lifted the covers fully but—nope, only his underwear. Frantically, Danny looked around the room. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find the suit on a hanger dangling from the bathroom doorknob. On the floor in front of it was a neat pile of clothing that looked to be sweats and a T-shirt.
Cho had found him on the sofa, and instead of rudely waking him, he’d carried Danny up to bed—somehow, because seriously, Danny wasn’t that light—undressed him, and set out comfier clothes for him to change into.
Danny took another strong whiff of cinnamon. And he was making breakfast.
A smile twitched at Danny’s lips. Maybe he was in the Twilight Zone and Cho’s evil—or in this case, not evil—twin was downstairs. But then, so far, this wasn’t out of character with how Cho had been acting.
Acting, Danny reminded himself, shaking his head to clear it as he crawled out of bed and headed for the sweats. It was just an act. Just Cho playing it cool like he always did. It wouldn’t last. Nothing in Danny’s life ever did.
The sweats and T-shirt were well-worn, soft and clean. Danny was grateful to have something other than his Zeus suit to walk downstairs in, but what was he supposed to do now?
Ducking into the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face. When he glanced up at the mirror above the sink, the pale young man staring back at him looked as tired as Danny felt. He was starving. Overusing his powers had drained him, leaving him vulnerable like he’d been the first time he pushed himself to do too many jumps and ended up at Cho’s feet. Cho hadn’t taken advantage of him then either.
“He deserves this,” Danny said to his reflection. “He deserves this…”
After drying his face, he headed back into the bedroom. The clock on the nightstand said 7:15. He had time before he needed to get to work.
Oh god, work. He’d have to go straight to work or stop home to change, but if he did that, would his father’s third degree be better or worse? Was Danny only postponing the inevitable if he went to work first? He had extra clothes there—sort of mandatory being a superhero—but there was no way John hadn’t noticed Danny never came home last night.
When Danny didn’t show, John would have called to check in, only Danny didn’t have his cell phone with him. So John would have called the morgue, then Lynn and Andre directly. Or maybe they just called him, worried about Danny after he ran off from…
From…
Almost losing his mind against someone who hardly deserved it.
Danny couldn’t avoid the conversations he had coming, but he still wanted to delay them for as long as possible. John would want to talk for sure now, and if Danny kept deflecting, his friends would stage an intervention before long. He just wished it could all go away without having to see their disappointment.
Grabbing his suit, he padded down the stairs.
“Please tell me this isn’t some awful form of torture and you’re going to flip that right into the trash to spite me,” Danny said as the full blast of—mmm French toast—assaulted him when he neared the kitchen.
Cho glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. He wore a grey and blue sporty zip-up and a pair of fitted sweats, and his hair was tied up loosely like he’d just gotten back from a run. Danny laid his Zeus costume over the back of the sofa and took his usual stool at the island.
“Still debating how you’re gonna pay me back for breaking in here last night. But for now you can enjoy the French toast on loan. Expect me to cash in your tab very soon.” Cho turned back to the stove, flipping the toast one last time, though a couple pieces had already made it onto two separate plates. They looked flawless, made with thick-cut slices of bread.
“I thought you said I never owed you anything,” Danny teased, making sure to keep his smile so Cho knew he was joking.
“Never wrong me and you never will. But keep showing up unexpected and I might stop finding your antics so endearing.” He flipped the last two pieces of French toast on top of the others on one of the plates, and with practiced motion, turned off the stove, set the spatula aside, and snatched up both plates to bring to the island where butter and syrup already waited. He’d given Danny an extra serving. It was all so…sweet.
Never wrong me and you never will.
“Thanks,” Danny said, digging in as Cho came around to sit beside him. There was still a bit of dampness on the other man’s brow and color in his cheeks from his run. The scent of sweat about him was subtle, almost intoxicating.
They chatted as they ate, and all the while Danny waited for Cho to ask—why had he come over last night? Why had he waited so long even after Cho didn’t show up? But Cho never broached the subject. He teased Danny and flirted and gave him that alluring side-eyed glance down his body as if contemplating all the ways he could make Danny squirm, but he didn’t pry. Danny found himself leaning into Cho, closer and closer as they ate.
Cho still warned Danny to take it easy with zapping into his apartment and dropping by unannounced. “I don’t tend to bring illegal activities into my home, but if you ever walk in on something incriminating…”
“Our deal comes first,” Danny said. “I get it. I really didn’t mean to fall asleep here last night. I’ve just been...extra tired lately.”
Pushing his plate away since he’d finished, Cho had left a couple bites behind that Danny immediately speared with his folk even though he’d already eaten everyt
hing on his plate. “Didn’t think you got worn out like us normal Elementals. Tired from too many jumps, sure, but insomnia? Back aches? Sore muscles?”
“Oh, I get sore muscles,” Danny said. “And I’d hardly call you normal. But just because I heal fast doesn’t mean I don’t feel everything. Sometimes after a night of patrol, it’s like phantom limb pains—everything hurts at once. Sadly, Lynn’s skills with physical therapy don’t include a full body massage.” He snickered lightly.
Whenever something did hurt, it always felt better so quickly. He’d felt pain over the past year like nothing he’d known his entire life before he Awakened, but what right did he have to complain when that pain vanished without lasting repercussions? When he was still alive—and others weren’t?
“Come here,” Cho said, standing abruptly and grabbing Danny by the hand to pull him to his feet. It was an interesting role reversal; Cho leading Danny to the sofa. His touch was always so deliberate, always with a plan in mind, and for once his usually cool hands were warm from his run and cooking breakfast.
Danny had time, whatever Cho had planned, so he went along willingly and waggled an eyebrow at the thief. “Feeling frisky this morning, Ice Man?”
Cho shot him an amused ‘have patience’ look and laid Danny down on the sofa the way he’d been last night. Then he lifted Danny’s legs and sat at the end with Danny’s feet in his lap.
Confused, Danny frowned before a groan tore past his lips at the first firm press of Cho’s thumbs into the sole of his foot. It hurt but felt so good at the same time. Danny hadn’t received a foot rub in…ever.
“Do you know how much tension people carry in their feet, Sparky? Sore muscles are more than…well, sore muscles.” Smoothing his thumbs over the top of Danny’s foot, he also dug into the sole with his fingertips. His voice was a low, hypnotic hum around him as Danny relaxed into the sofa. “We carry frustration there. Anger. So many varied emotions begging to be released.”
“You into that new age stuff, Cho?” Danny snorted as he glanced down at the man. “Essential oils, organic food…”
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