“Stand still!” he snarled, white spit flying from his thick lips.
“Go to hell!” Not the best or most original of retorts, but it was all I could come up with.
Hangman and I fell into a weird sort of dance. He tried to punch and strangle and snap me in two. I dodged his seeking grasp and got in what blows I could, but they didn’t really hurt the ubervillain—only his manly pride. I let my power take over my body, twisting me like a puppet. My body turned and moved in ways I hadn’t even dreamed were possible. The Bendy Brawler would have had a hard time keeping up with me.
Debonair slumped against the side of the boat, too injured to do anything but cheer me on with his encouraging eyes. While I danced with Hangman, I also kept an eye on Joanne and Prism. They were engaged in their own sort of dance, although Joanne was doing far more damage than I was.
Prism got in a lucky punch. Joanne stumbled back and fell on her ass. The ubervillain used the opportunity to run over to Hangman, who was still trying to knock me into next week.
“Forget about them! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Prism screamed, clipping herself to Hangman’s utility belt. “Fly! Fly! Fly!”
With my remarkable ability to elude him, and the Fearless Five helicopter hovering overhead, Hangman knew when he was beat. He gathered his strength, wrapped an arm around Prism, and looked up at the sky.
I watched in horror as the two ubervillains lifted off the yacht. My eyes went to the Fearless Five chopper. It was more stable than it had been when the grenade had exploded, but Hermit still struggled with the controls. They wouldn’t recover in time to give chase to the ubervillains.
Prism was going to get away. The woman who’d hurt Debonair, who’d killed Berkley, was going to sail away into the sky free as a bird.
Not if I could help it.
“Luck be a lady!” I screamed as loudly as I could.
The sapphires in the angel charm’s eyes flashed on and off in warning. I’d managed to hold onto the bracelet through my fight with Hangman, and I reared back and threw it with all my might. I’m not much of a thrower. I never played baseball or softball or anything like that in school. So, I reached for my power, willing the small silver chain to soar higher, faster, farther. Just when I thought it was going to fall short, a gust of wind snapped up the bracelet, and it somehow hooked itself onto Hangman’s utility belt.
Five seconds later, the bracelet exploded—taking Hangman and Prism along with it. One second, the ubervillains soared in midair. The next, they disappeared in a ball of orange fire that would have made Fiona very, very proud.
“How did you do that?” Joanne asked, mouth agape as pieces of ash and other things I didn’t want to think about fluttered by us on the breeze.
I just shrugged. “Sometimes, it’s better to be lucky than good.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“If you touch me again, I’m going to take that tube and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine,” Joanne snapped.
I stared at the other woman, who glared at Mr. Sage. The superhero looked at me for help, but I shook my head. I wasn’t about to argue with Joanne. She’d just lost her husband and helped save my life in the space of a few hours. As far as I was concerned, she could do whatever she wanted.
Joanne crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her head up high, like she was the queen of the world instead of covered in enough blood, grime, soot, and ash for a whole legion of firefighters.
“I’m fine,” Joanne protested. “Just a little bruised and sore.”
“You’ve got several serious cuts, not to mention that bump on the side of your head. Now hold still.”
Mr. Sage dabbed some more ointment onto Joanne’s face. She turned her head away and refused to look at him.
Joanne, Debonair, and I were in the sick bay at Fearless Five headquarters. Hermit and Mr. Sage had gotten the helicopter under control enough to land on the yacht. Striker and Hermit had stayed behind to help the fire and police departments handle the cleanup, while Mr. Sage and Karma Girl whisked us injured folks back to headquarters—blindfolding us, of course, so we couldn’t see where we were going. Even though I knew, Joanne and Debonair didn’t.
Mr. Sage had seen to Debonair first. The superhero had a broken arm, cracked ribs, a broken nose, and a major concussion. Mr. Sage had set all the bones before giving Debonair a sedative for the pain and sticking him in another room. His injuries were serious but not life-threatening.
Then, the superhero had gone to work on Joanne and me. I’d happily submitted to Mr. Sage’s ministrations. He announced that I had gotten through my ordeal with just a few minor cuts and bruises, mostly from all the debris flying around Prism’s yacht, as well as from Jasper’s bombs. Joanne was a little more banged up, but not too bad off, considering she’d gone toe-to-toe with Prism. I still couldn’t quite believe she’d somehow escaped getting smoked by the laser.
“Enough!” Joanne snapped, knocking away Mr. Sage’s hand. “I want to see Berkley. Where is he? Where did they take him?”
“Bigtime University Hospital,” Mr. Sage said. “They pronounced him dead on arrival. I’m so sorry, Joanne.”
She stared at Mr. Sage. Pain, grief, anger, and more emotions swirled in her violet eyes one right after another. “Give me some drugs or blindfold me or do whatever the hell you have to do to protect your precious anonymity, then take me to the hospital.”
Mr. Sage’s green eyes flicked to me, and we both looked at Joanne.
“What are you waiting for? Now!” she snarled, her hands tightening around the metal rails of her bed.
“As you wish,” Mr. Sage replied.
He went to the cabinets that lined one wall and took out a syringe and a small vial. He came back to Joanne and injected the clear liquid into the IV already pumping fluid into her arm. Mr. Sage looked at me. I nodded, and we left the room.
“She’s not herself,” I said. “That’s why she’s acting this way.”
Mr. Sage looked through the glass at Joanne, who stared at the ceiling and tried not to cry as the drug took effect. Her eyelids fluttered once, then closed.
“Of course she’s not herself. She just lost her husband. Because of me.” Mr. Sage’s voice was sad and bitter.
I put my hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault. Prism was too quick for any of us to stop.”
The superhero shook his head. “I should have known what she was up to—that she would steal the sapphire in front of all those people. I’m a psychic. I should have known.”
“I’ve always thought being a psychic is sort of like being lucky—you have good days and you have bad days,” I said in a soft tone.
A wry smile twisted his face. “Yeah. Unfortunately, people always seem to suffer when I have bad days.”
I couldn’t argue with him. I knew about bad luck and making people suffer all too well. So, I didn’t even try.
* * *
I left Joanne to Mr. Sage and went next door to Debonair’s room. Debonair lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by clean white sheets with a dusty, black mask covering the top half of his face. Mr. Sage hadn’t removed it out of professional courtesy. Karma Girl sat in a nearby chair, playing with a Rubik’s Cube and keeping an eye on his vital signs.
“Any change?” I asked, looking at all the beeping and chirping machines.
“No. He’s still serious but stable. He’s going to pull through, Bella. Don’t worry.” Karma Girl’s eyes glowed for half a second. “I just know he is.”
My heart lifted. Karma Girl was never wrong. At least to my knowledge. If she said Debonair was going to be okay, then I believed her.
I dragged another chair up to the bed and sat down. Then, I reached over and took Debonair’s hand. It felt warm, almost hot. A fever was sweeping through his body as it tried to mend all the damage that had been done to it.
Karma Girl reached up and took off her mask, morphing into Carmen Cole once more.
“Why don’t you get some rest?” Carmen said in a so
ft voice. “You’ve had a hell of a day.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine, just a few bumps and bruises.” I sounded like Joanne now. “Besides, I want to be here when he wakes up so he can see I’m okay too.”
“All right. If you need anything, just use the intercom.”
I nodded. “Any word on Granny Cane?”
“Swifte showed up on the scene right after Hangman took off with you. He rushed her to the hospital. Granny Cane had a concussion and a broken wrist, but she’ll be fine. Your grandfather is with her. Once the doctors give her the all-clear sign, he’s going to drive out here.”
I nodded. “Good.”
Carmen got to her feet and left the room.
I turned back to Devlin. My eyes fixed on the cast on his left arm and the white bandages that swathed his chest. He was lucky he’d just gotten off with some broken bones. We’d all been very, very lucky today.
Everyone except Berkley. Poor Joanne. I knew what she must be going through right now. The pain, the anger, the grief, the rage. I’d experienced it all when my father had died. If Devlin had been killed instead of Berkley, I don’t think I would have been able to live with myself. It made what I had to tell him that much harder.
Because I’d finally realized we couldn’t be together. Before the second museum benefit, I’d been willing to try, to figure out some way to make things work. But they never would. Today had shown me that, and Berkley’s death had driven it home. I’d just been fooling myself before. Because Devlin was Debonair. A suave, sexy superhero. That leather costume he wore might as well have been a bull’s-eye on his back. He’d always be a target for both the ubervillains and the police. I wasn’t going to let my heart get caught in the crossfire when his luck finally ran out and some villain killed him. It had come so close to happening today that I still couldn’t quite breathe.
I grasped Devlin’s hand, leaned back in the chair, and closed my eyes. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I must have, because I woke to find Devlin staring at me, his blue eyes hazy from the drugs.
“Hey,” he said, his voice thick.
“Hey there, yourself. How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Stiff. Sore.” His eyes slowly wandered around the room. “Where are we?”
“You’re safe. We’re in the Fearless Five headquarters in one of the sick bays. Mr. Sage checked you out and says you’re going to be fine.”
I gave Devlin the lowdown on his injuries.
“And you? How are you?”
I smiled and squeezed his hand more tightly. “I’m fine. Just a few bumps and bruises. I got lucky today. It seems to be something I’m good at.”
Devlin tried to laugh but stopped because it hurt his ribs. “And Joanne?”
“She’s fine, physically. Emotionally, she’s a wreck. The Fearless Five are taking her to the hospital to see Berkley’s body.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from filling my eyes. Berkley had been a good friend and a wonderful man. He hadn’t deserved what Prism had done to him, and Joanne didn’t deserve to be suffering his loss now.
“Hey, hey. None of that,” Devlin said, squeezing my hand. “The ubervillains are dead, and the city is safe again. And we’ve got the rest of our lives to spend together. That’s the most important thing.”
I didn’t want to do this. Not today of all days. Not when he was sick and weak and injured. But I had to. Otherwise, I’d just keep putting it off…and putting it off…and putting it off until it would be too late.
I drew in a deep breath. “No, we don’t.”
“What? What are you talking about?” His eyes grew wide and frantic. “Are you hurt? Is something wrong with you?”
“No, I’m fine. But we can’t be together, Devlin. Not anymore.” My heart cracked a little as I said the words. But I knew they were true, that it was for the best.
“Why not? I love you, Bella, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much. Don’t you love me too?”
I bit my lip to keep from confessing the depth of my feelings. “I care about you. A lot. But we can’t be together, Devlin. It just wouldn’t work out. You’re a superhero. You always will be.”
“And you don’t want to be with a superhero,” Devlin said. “Because of what happened to your father. You’re afraid I’ll die just like he did. That a couple of ubervillains will corner me in a dark alley one night and kill me. It won’t happen, Bella. I promise. I won’t let it.”
I laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “You won’t let it? Don’t you think my father thought that very same thing? Don’t you think he would have come home to us if he could?”
Devlin didn’t respond.
“We almost died today—you, me, Joanne. And Berkley did die. I can’t go through this again. I can’t sit at home every night wondering whether or not you’re going to come back in the morning.”
Devlin looked at me. “I could always quit,” he said in a low voice.
I stared at him, stunned. “Quit? Quit what? Being Debonair?”
He nodded.
I shook my head. “You couldn’t do that any more than I could quit breathing. And I wouldn’t want you to.”
“You don’t want to be with me because I’m Debonair, but you don’t want me to stop being him? I don’t understand, Bella. I would give it up. I would do it for you. I’d do anything for you.”
The words and the love shining in Devlin’s eyes filled me with hope, but I pushed it back down, smothering it with reason. It wasn’t going to work out between us. We both had to accept that now.
I let out a long sigh. “I believe you. I know you would do it for me. But you’d be doing it for me, not for yourself. In time, you’d come to hate me for making you give up being Debonair. And I couldn’t stand it if you hated me. I just couldn’t.”
Devlin grabbed my hand. “I would quit for you, and I wouldn’t hate you for it. I could never hate you for anything. I’m not like your father, Bella. When are you going to realize that?”
A sad smile curved my lips. “The only problem is I’ve heard this all before. Word for word. Don’t you think my mother tried to make him quit? Don’t you think she begged and pleaded with him to stop putting himself in danger?”
Another bitter laugh escaped my lips. “They fought about it constantly while she was still alive. Sometimes, my father would listen to her. He’d give in and put the mask and the motorcycle and the leather jacket away. For a while. A week, a month, three months later, he’d put them back on, and the whole, sad cycle would repeat itself. I don’t want to go through that again. Any of it. Not again, and especially not with you.”
Devlin just stared at me, his eyes more hurt and wounded than the rest of his battered, bruised body.
“I’m sorry, Devlin.” I looked away. “But it’s over between us.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Devlin tried to change my mind. He begged and pleaded and told me how much he loved me, but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. I closed my eyes and ears and heart to him and held firm.
Mr. Sage made Devlin spend the rest of the day at Sublime for observation. I slept beside him in an extra bed. Around midnight, Devlin decided he felt well enough to go to the hospital to check on Granny Cane. I didn’t call him on her real identity as Grace Caleb. I’d had enough superheroes and ubervillains for one day. For a lifetime.
“Come with me, Bella. Please,” Devlin said, taking my hand again. “We can make this work, I know we can.”
“No,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat and pulling away. “Trust me. It’s better this way. It’s better to end things now. Go check on Granny Cane. She needs you.”
Devlin dropped my hand. Then—
POP!
He teleported away.
But this time was different. This time, I knew he wasn’t coming back. Devlin was gone.
Forever.
I couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down my flushed face.
* * *
Bobby c
ame out to Sublime early the next morning to drive me home. On the ride back into the city, I told him everything that had happened after the disaster at the museum—including what Grace Caleb did late at night.
Bobby’s reaction to the news his lady friend masqueraded as a superhero surprised me, to say the least.
“Oh, I knew all about that,” he said, taking a sip of his early-morning espresso.
My mouth dropped open. “You knew Grace Caleb was Granny Cane? How did you figure it out?”
Bobby smiled. “Bella, when you’re as old as I am, you’ve seen it all—especially when it comes to superheroes and ubervillains. I knew the first time Grace left in the middle of one of our dates that she was Granny Cane. Nobody walks out on Bobby Bulluci without good reason. And what better reason could there be than being a superhero?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, a bit miffed.
He shrugged. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. Unlike you young folks, I’m not obsessed with finding out who everybody really is. Now, tell me about Devlin. Why wasn’t he still at Sublime with you this morning? What’s going on between the two of you?”
I could never hide anything from Grandfather, so I decided to tell him the truth. “We broke up,” I said, looking out the window.
“Why?”
I told Bobby my reasons for ending things with Devlin Debonair Dash.
“Bah! Just because the boy’s a superhero is no reason not to be with him,” Bobby said, waving his hand.
“You don’t understand.” I looked at him. “Being Johnny Angel was always your choice. It was never mine. Going out, getting hurt, putting yourself in danger was always your choice, my father’s choice, and now Johnny’s choice. Well, I’m making a choice. And I choose not to go through that again. Not even for Devlin.”
“But you love him, don’t you, Bella?” Grandfather asked, his green eyes soft and sad.
“Yes,” I replied, staring out the window so he wouldn’t see me cry. “But sometimes, love isn’t enough. No matter how much you want it to be.”
* * *
Berkley Brighton’s funeral was held two days later at the Cathedral of the Angels. Practically the whole city showed up to put to rest one of its favorite sons. Berkley hadn’t only been rich—he’d used his money to help others, funding scholarships, grants, and much more in Bigtime and beyond.
The Bigtime Series (Bigtime superhero series, e-bundle) Page 89