“I’m okay with that,” he whispered, “but don’t cut me out of everything. I can still be your Guardian, if not on the field team.” His hands twisted around, intertwining our fingers. “I’ve got mad skills off the battlefield as well, you know. I can do my best work behind a desk.” He tilted his head to one side with a mischievous grin. “Or on it.”
“Okay, okay.” I pulled free, swiping at my tears. “I really need your help to figure out how to beat these supers. And I can’t be distracted worrying about you.”
Hunter moved closer. His hands went around my waist as he pushed me against the wall. He dropped a series of light kisses along the side of my neck, whispering something indecipherable. I moaned as he finished up on the edge of my mouth, kissing away the last of my tears.
“I can give you better distractions than that, Jo. Say the word and I’ll be there for you.” The faint words turned my knees to jelly.
A rapping came at the door. Hunter pulled away as it swung open, admitting a small woman and a wheelchair.
“Mr. Dillon? I’m here to take you to the hospital exit.” She had to be in her sixties, long white hair tucked under a green sweater. “Please take a seat.”
He looked at the senior, then at me, then at the empty wheelchair. “Really.”
“Really,” she announced in a firm voice. A long, slender finger pointed at the seat. “Sit. Down. Please.”
I flashed back to my mother giving me The Look when I wouldn’t finish my vegetables.
Hunter’s eyes went wide. He glanced at me as if asking for backup.
I raised my hands. “I’d do as she says.”
He slid into the wheelchair, wincing as he put his hands on the armrests.
“Thank you.” She spun him around, kicked the door open and wheeled him out into the corridor in a single fluid movement.
Steve and Peter jumped to one side as the elderly woman pushed Hunter past them. The startled pair looked up at me as I fell into step behind her. I pressed a finger to my lips and grinned like a banshee as our little procession made its way through the hospital corridors.
Peter snickered as we got to the double doors. Hunter glared at him before stepping out of the chair.
“Thank you.” He saluted the senior, who nodded once before turning away.
“Whoa.” Steve let out a low whistle. “Reminds me of my grandmother.”
“Reminds me of the devil.” Hunter staggered through the automatic doors and lifted his good hand to flag a taxi. “First dibs on the booze in the plane.”
We rode in silence to the airport. I caught wary glances from the driver beside me every now and then as he peered at the trio in the backseat, probably wondering if we were about to rob him and leave him in the desert for dead. Obviously we weren’t as famous as I thought we were. It didn’t help that Steve and I looked like we’d just finished a shift at a slaughterhouse. At least Hunter looked respectable when he wasn’t scowling at the other two. I guess he’d hoped to cop a few feels on the way to the plane, except I was in the front seat.
When we arrived at the terminal there were no press trucks on the other side of the fence, not even a single reporter looking for a sound bite. The building was empty except for a bleary-eyed man behind the counter who gestured us away, too engrossed in the widescreen television set mounted on the far wall to notice us. The screen flashed between live reports at Fremont and the hospital we’d just left, images of the damaged support pylon alternating with the hurt and injured being helped into ambulances.
As we walked towards the jet, a hot breeze blew across the tarmac, making my skin itch. The pilots were already inside, the ground crew disappearing back into whatever magic hole they popped out of, paid in full for their services.
“This stinks.” Peter spoke first, breaking the awkward silence that had followed us from the hospital. “From hero to zero.” He waved a hand at the neon lights of the Strip on the horizon. “We lose one fight and they turn on us?”
“We lost a big one.” I walked up the steps into the jet. “And don’t think it’s going to get much easier from here. Playtime’s most definitely over.”
Hunter groaned behind me. I spun around to see him clutching the narrow railing with both hands, his face deathly pale.
“I’m good,” he said. “Just moved a little too fast.”
“In your condition, anything is too fast.” I took hold of his forearm and helped him to his usual seat, ignoring his slight protestations. “Rest.”
Steve grunted as he settled into his chair, the springs groaning under his weight. “Gotta find a way to keep that jerk from tearing up the ground. And the air chick has got to go.”
“Air chick? What air chick?” Peter clenched his teeth as we taxied down the runway. “If it were a damned chick, I’d at least be able to talk to her. Yellow, fluffy thing.” He wriggled his fingers in the air. “Fluffy feathered thing. I like that. Only thing dangerous there is a beak. And if they piss on you.”
I couldn’t help it, I giggled. A second later Steve joined in with his low belly laugh, and within a minute all four of us were laughing hysterically. Hunter swayed in his seat, arms wrapped around his middle. I could see the pain in his face, mixed with a sense of relief that somehow, someway, we were still a team.
I was the first to recover, gasping for air. “Okay, that was good. Let’s get some rest and take it easy; it’s been a rough day. It might be awhile before we get this much downtime, grab it while you can.”
It didn’t take much prompting. Peter plugged himself into the armrest with a set of headphones and rocked out to some pop slop. Steve grabbed one of the half-read sports magazines that littered the empty seats and buried his nose in it. I made my way to the rear of the plane and the well-stocked bar. I needed a drink, and since I dictated the inventory I knew what was here.
The beer was cold and Canadian, just the way I liked it. I tipped the dark bottle back, enjoying the familiar taste of home.
“Can I get one of those?” I turned to see Hunter, still in his chair, swiveled around to face me.
“You’re on pain medication. I think not.” I took another mouthful.
“Pass me a bottle of water then.” He plucked the offered bottle from my hands with a mournful sigh. “You should get some rest yourself.”
“I will. In a minute. You just take it easy. I don’t want to have to rush you to St. Mike’s as soon as we land.”
Hunter waved me off with a laugh. “Good night.” He swallowed another deep swig of water and put the bottle down before turning his chair around.
I could say that I began a deep analysis of our battle and how we’d fucked up and started devising scenarios for the next time we encountered Lamarr and Hammond, but I’d be lying. Instead I chugged the last of the beer and tossed the empty bottle into the garbage can. Then I went to my seat and fell asleep, despite the aches and pains racking my body. It’d been a long day, and it didn’t show signs of getting any shorter.
Chapter Seven
The thump of wheels on asphalt woke me, jolting me out of an uneasy sleep with dark dreams I couldn’t remember and didn’t want to. There was an ache in my chest, some sort of internal pain that wouldn’t go away no matter how much I rubbed it. I dreaded taking my clothes off and seeing how many bruises dotted my skin. I don’t tend to bounce well.
As soon as we stopped, Steve lurched from his seat to stand by the front door. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but even I was getting tired of the confines of the cabin. As soon as the door opened he flew down the steps, taking long, deep gasps of the night air.
“Good to be home,” Peter said as he stumbled down to stand beside Steve. One hand came up to cover his mouth as he yawned. “Any idea what time it is? Here, I mean? I forgot to reset my watch.”
I stood beside them and looked up into the sky, the darkness easing away to dim pastel shades in the distance. “I have no idea. We left Vegas about ten, so four hours back here, makes it two in the morning, subtract…er, ad
d…” I rubbed the back of my neck, my fingers bouncing over the scar left by the plug. “It’s early morning. Let’s get home.”
Hunter stood at the door. He climbed down the stairs, white-knuckling the railing with each step.
Peter glanced towards him. “We all flying home?”
I looked at Hunter. “What do you feel up to?”
He smiled, a faint weak smile that sent a shudder through me. “I think I want to get home as soon as possible. I can make it.”
“We’re not flying. At least, you’re not. I’m not going to jerk you around. And no, don’t respond to that.” I turned to Steve. “Figure you can make it home in a few jumps? Soft landings, no giant footprints left behind in the street?”
Steve grinned. He cracked his knuckles. It sounded like a series of bullets going off. “No problem. Light as a feather.”
“Carry Hunter and we’ll meet you there.” I charged up. “Peter, come on over here.”
He hesitated before walking towards me, looking apprehensive.
“Come on, Peter. You know it’ll be fine.” I smiled, reaching out with one gloved hand. “Just you and me. Our own private date. Make the other boys jealous.”
His hand slipped into mine, the trembling shooting up my arm. I squeezed it tight. He was half-awake and probably afraid of dozing off midair and letting go.
“We’ll see you two on the roof. Don’t drop him.” I rose into the air, pulling Peter along with me.
I kept the speed down to medium as we cruised to the edge of the small island. We drifted along Lake Ontario for a few minutes, enjoying the cool morning breeze. Around us the streetlights turned off as the sun dragged itself up over the horizon. I pushed us a little higher, a little faster.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just not feeling good since, well, you know. Vegas.” His grip tightened as we crested a tall condominium before dropping again to a more comfortable height. “I gotta get more aggressive. I gotta start getting into the fight.”
“You do what you can.” The lights of Queen Street West were still burning bright. A few stragglers wandered the street, refugees from late-night clubs, looking for a place to grab some food. The hotdog vendors were already setting up shop, slicing fresh onions in half and tossing them on the grill. The tantalizing aroma swung towards us, making my mouth water.
“I know,” he huffed. “But I just don’t do enough, I never do. Hunter got hurt because I couldn’t get that guy, and…”
I stopped in midair and swung him around with my hand so we were facing each other. Peter gasped at the rapid maneuver, his free hand grabbing my left shoulder. His fingers dug into my jacket.
“Don’t say that. We all screwed up on this one. You, me, Steve, Hunter. It’s not your fault.”
“No.” He cut me off, shaking his head. “I’m used to being nothing more than cute and cuddly, bringing up the animals in reserve to make it look nice. I’ve got to start getting more proactive, get into it.” A lock of reddish black hair fell into his deep blue eyes. “It was all fine and dandy when I was the sweet guy with the animals, the one playing with the elephant and dancing with wolves, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t be that man. I don’t want to be.” He let out a sigh. “It’s time to step up my game.”
I couldn’t argue with him. “It’s time for all of us to step up. But not at the expense of your life or anyone else’s.” I turned him back to my side and continued to fly towards the Lair. “Think about it, but don’t get yourself killed trying to look macho. You are what you are, you do what you can and that’s that.” I squeezed his hand. “Alan wouldn’t have wanted you to change for anyone. I can’t ask you to. I won’t ask you to.”
The rooftop came into sight a few minutes later, the scuff tracks from my last bad landing still visible from the air. This time I got it right and Peter released my hand as soon as his feet hit the gravel, jogging away as I settled onto the pebbles.
“Thanks.” He gave me a tight smile and headed for the door, standing a little bit taller than I remembered. My first pep talk seemed to have gone over well.
A loud thump came from behind me, the roof shuddering under the impact. I turned around to see Steve standing there, Hunter cradled in his arms like a baby. The annoyed frown on Hunter’s face said it all.
“If I see this on the front page of any newspaper,” he groused as he slid down to the ground out of the giant’s arms, “I’ll sue the hell out of anyone and everyone.”
“It’d make a nice picture framed and on the wall downstairs.” I laughed. Steve strutted by me, wearing a grin that could have swallowed a dozen Cheshire cats.
“You could have flown me.” Hunter put one arm across his chest. “It wouldn’t have been that tough on me.” He winced as he took a step forward. One leg buckled just slightly before he forced himself back up.
“Yes, yes it would have.” I took hold of his right arm and tugged him towards the door. “Let’s get inside before you fall over.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Now stop arguing before I toss you over the side and you really need to go to the hospital.”
I walked in front of him as we went down the steps. He grunted a few times, and I felt his hand on my shoulder at least once.
“Hunter.” David pushed by me and offered his arm. “I’ve already set up a hospital bed over in the dorm area.” He glared at me as if I were the injured one. “Since you’re not taking the doctor’s advice and staying put, it seems.”
“Don’t be mad at her. I hate hospitals.” Hunter stiffly walked past David, heading for the other side of the Lair, his left arm still hugging his shirt. “And it’s only a scratch, really. I just need a cup of your wonderful tea and a few sandwiches, and I’ll be up and around in no time.”
Steve shot me a warning look. He had already taken up his usual position on the couch, the television remote safe in one hand. I could hear running water and drew the conclusion that Peter had taken advantage of our slow arrival to grab control of the bathroom.
“He’s not right,” Steve mumbled as I moved closer. “I think the damned wound’s bleeding again.” One hand brushed over the front of his shirt, pointing out a fresh and faint crimson stain. “This ain’t mine, and it ain’t from Vegas.”
“Right.” I tapped his shoulder. “Thanks.”
Jessie looked up from his keyboard. “Before you start going all paranoid and ducking under the table searching for him, Outrager left as soon as you got into the air. Said something about he’d be back soon. Seemed sort of freaked out after getting a phone call on his private line.”
“Freaked out?” Alarm bells sounded in my head. There couldn’t be much that would push an Agency man off his game, and I knew it’d be landing in our lap soon enough, whatever it was. “Do we at least have the files on Hammond?” The multiple monitors flashed with various chat windows and programs running in separate sections, all convincing me that I was truly too dumb to be a computer geek.
“Just printed it out now. I know you like paper copies.” Jessie glanced over towards the far end of the loft. “When do you want it?”
“Give me a few minutes with Hunter. Then we’ll chat.”
His focus returned to the monitors. “Aside from the imminent danger and all, this is a bit of a PR debacle for the Protectors.”
“No kidding.” I turned away and walked towards the boys’ side of the Lair.
Hunter sat on the edge of a large hospital bed, bare-chested and already pulling the bandages off. A metal tray on the bed held a wide assortment of tape, pads and bandages, along with a huge bottle of iodine and multiple antibiotic ointments. Never let it be said that David didn’t plan ahead.
I saw the red smear on the shirt before he pushed it off the bed. A bloody dressing landed atop it, followed by a long string of gauze. The stitches were holding, but it didn’t look pretty. The gash oozed a little around the black thread poking up, the enraged skin pink and puckered but with no sign
of infection. My nose twitched at the smell of antiseptic.
“Before you start, don’t even think about leaving me out of the planning and discussion ’cause of this. You need me.” Hunter winced as he reached for a new gauze pad.
I picked up the paper square before he could reach it and tore the thin sheath open. “I do need you.” It took another minute to wrestle the cap off the antibiotic ointment and slather it over the bandage.
“Okay.” He took the pad and pressed the dressing against the chest wound, hissing through his teeth. “Damn.”
I watched him fumble for a minute with the fresh gauze strip, juggling the roll in one hand while trying to hold the pad against the wound. After a few seconds of letting his pride run the show I stepped in and took the gauze from him. “Hold the end against the pad and I’ll take it back here.”
“Sure.” The words came out through gritted teeth. Hunter did as I said, pulling out a goodly amount of slack before handing it to me.
“Any idea where to start now? Other than killing Outrager just because I feel like it.” The temptation grew every time I thought of his smug smile.
He chuckled and then gasped as I wrapped the bandage over his chest. “Can’t say it’d be a bad thing. But think of all the time we’d spend breaking in a new flunky.”
I tried to ignore the scrapes and bruises on his skin, concentrating on making the binding as tight as possible.
“There. Pass me the tape.” I took each long strand from him, fastening the end of the gauze strip to his skin with some nonstick tape. “How often do you have to change this?”
“Whenever I feel like it.” The bravado grated on my ears.
“Right. Let David know if you need to go back to the hospital or need more supplies.” I intercepted his rebuttal by putting my fingers over his mouth. “Don’t even start. Please.”
He kissed my fingers. “Yes, ma’am.”
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