"I'll do my best,” was his reply.
Ah, but your best at what? She watched him leave and sank back in her chair with a groan. There are actually people out there who crave this sort of life.
She opened the desk's top drawer and hit a remote button to activate the television monitor across the room. The sixty-five inch screen lit up.
The slim, and beautiful new cable news star, Silver Dawn, appeared on screen. Wind whipped her oddly gray-white hair around her delicate, pixie-like face as she squinted into the camera. “This is Silver Dawn, coming to you live from Detroit, where I'm told the costumed vigilante who calls himself ‘The Burning Man’ has just foiled a bank robbery by melting the tires of the getaway vehicle.
"With me is Lieutenant Barry Parr, of the Detroit Police.” She produced a real microphone from somewhere and leveled it at the tall, scowling man like a weapon. “So what's your take on this, Lieutenant Parr?"
He aimed a fierce glare at the camera, quite obviously posing in what he took as a heroic manner. “Preventing crime and catching criminals is police business, Ms. Dawn. This ‘Burning Man', whoever he is, should leave this sort of thing to the professionals."
Athena snorted. Predictable.
"What about the monsters and freaks, Lieutenant Parr? Are the police equally qualified to pursue and apprehend non-human and superhuman criminals?"
The question couldn't have come as a complete surprise, but Parr passed her a shocked look. “Hey, just because some —bleep— suddenly bursts into flames and doesn't die doesn't mean he has the skills or authority to catch crooks—no matter how freakish they are."
"Looks like he managed okay to me,” the reporter muttered, just low enough that Lieutenant Parr didn't seem to hear. “So, Lieutenant Parr, are you saying the police are trained and equipped to handle even—” her voice dropped to a hushed tone—"supernatural threats?"
Parr nearly choked. The official line from the government in general, and the police specifically, was that the vast majority of sightings and incidents involving ‘paranormal’ phenomenon were either hoaxes or grossly over-stated.
The thought made Athena's mind skip to Ian Stone, who might as well have fallen off the Earth. He'd made a comment to Nemesis about returning to D.C. to confer with his superiors, but that had been nearly a month ago. Someone in the government knows what's going on. It's obvious they don't want to share it with the public.
"Despite what many of you have heard, there are no ‘supernatural’ threats,” Parr replied tersely. “We have apparently been struck with some odd mutations, but they are perfectly natural, not ‘super’ natural."
"And, as a scientist, you are perfectly qualified yourself to make this determination?"
Parr's face burned visibly. “This interview is over.” He turned and stalked away.
"There you have it, citizens. The monsters aren't real, the mutants are out of control, and the police know what's best for us. This is Silver Dawn, from Chicago, saying goodbye and good day."
Athena switched off the television and pushed herself up, shaking her head. That girl will either go far, or irritate the powers-that-be enough to get shit-canned for good.
She opened her office door and found Loki standing there waiting, leaning against Marianne's desk with his trademark grin plastered on his face. To Athena it appeared just a little forced. “Well, I'm back."
"I can see that.” She took a step backward back through her office door. “You might as well come on in."
Adam, she noted, watched them both intently, while doing his best to seem more interested in paying attention to whatever it was Marianne was trying to show him. His talent for subterfuge needed work, she decided.
She shut the door behind them. “Who's the new guy?” Loki asked.
"My new X-A,” she answered, crossing the room and falling back into her chair. “How'd your trip go?"
"Well enough,” he growled, his devil-may-care attitude slipping a little. “You hand some people a little power and they go crazy."
She stared at him, slightly stunned. “And this is news to you?"
"Well ... not really.” He shrugged.
"So, what did you do?"
"I tracked down nearly fifty meta-humans whose traits have gone fully active, tried to organize them into a kind of support group. About half of them aren't happy with their new circumstances—then again, I'm not sure I blame them. Some of their powers come with really heavy-duty physical modifications."
"I imagine bursting into flame is pretty serious, but the guy who calls himself The Burning Man seems to be handling it all right."
Loki chuckled, but not as if he really meant it. “His real name is Matt Frye. He was—is—an auto mechanic. Thankfully he's a big fan of the comics. It wasn't hard to convince him he wanted to use his newfound abilities like a superhero."
"And the others?"
"It's a grab bag. In Louisiana I found a fellow who's more plant than animal these days. He's green as a well-fertilized lawn, strong as an ox, and regenerates any damage he takes. Unfortunately, he's also fifteen feet tall and absolutely unable to hide what he is. Right now he's in the bayou hiding out from some less-than-ethical scientific types who want to figure out what makes him tick."
"That doesn't sound good."
"It's not. In New York there's this lady who's invisible. Permanently. She can't turn it on and off, and, frankly, I'm not sure if she'll ever be able to. She's using makeup and artful use of clothing to blend in, but she's on the brink of losing it."
Athena winced. She'd been afraid of something like this from the beginning. The complete random nature of the meta mutations his viruses had induced made this sort of thing almost inevitable. “Have her come here,” she directed. “In fact, any of them who are ... shall we say ... at their limit, can come here. We'll see if we can arrange protection, counseling, whatever it takes."
He regarded her somberly for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. “I really screwed up, didn't I?"
"If it makes you feel any better, Loki, we all know your intentions were good."
"Good intentions? You know what they say about that."
She'd never seen Loki this down on himself. The guilt was tearing him apart. “I'll admit I had my doubts from the beginning, but the truth remains—if we didn't come up with some way to protect Earth, the Enemy would win automatically.
"Did you take care of the other vampire?"
He looked away, staring out the window overlooking Commencement Bay. “Renee wouldn't let me. That sparked our first major fight. I'm sorry."
"Don't be.” Athena had suspected as much, since every conversation she had with the woman had involved Renee quickly changing the subject when the second vampire was brought up. As much as she'd have liked to, Athena couldn't actually exercise any authority over her. She simply didn't have to accept it.
Not like anyone is accepting it at the moment. Except for a few like Loki and Thoth, that is.
Speaking of ... “What about the other viruses? Anything on the Arcane or Para varieties?"
Loki ran a hand over his face, looking suddenly very tired. “Without training the Arcane virus isn't going to do anyone any good. And I already told you—it's nearly impossible to identify the para virus in a human subject."
"So, what? We have fifty or so metavirally enhanced ‘freaks'—as the press is calling them—and no controls on them whatsoever?"
"Not necessarily. I've organized Matt—The Burning Man—and seven others into something that looks as though it might be a superhero team."
"That's something, anyway. Okay. Go back out, collect all the ones who need our help, and bring them back here. I'll open up a safe house for them and we'll work on figuring out what we can do for them."
"You mind if I go home first? I haven't seen Renee in almost a month."
She caught herself on the verge of biting his head off. He was right. She had no right to punish him because he was lucky enough to find something most immor
tals only dreamed of obtaining. She was jealous, of course, but not that jealous.
Her own innate sense of fairness allowed her to see the truth of things. “Okay. Go home, spend some time with Renee. I'm sure she'll appreciate it as much as you do. Then, when you've had enough alone time, get back on the plane and do as I asked.” She softened the last part with a smile. “Good enough?"
He nodded, obviously surprised. “Thank you."
"What are you waiting for? Get out of here."
He left, not wasting the time for even one more word. Athena reached out and hit a key on her command console. “Marianne. Get me Mr. Thoth."
"Yes, Ma'am."
* * * *
Loki arrived home around noon, found the house quieter than he'd expected. He thought Thoth had stuck around to keep an eye on things for him. Odd. After a momentary search he found a short note on the kitchen table, written in a language Loki hadn't seen for several centuries. Alantean.
Thoth had gotten a call from Athena and had gone to see her. Loki took a deep breath and nodded to himself. He crumpled up the note and threw it into a nearby wastebasket before treading down the hallway to Renee's room. He eased the door open and peered inside.
She lay nearly naked on her bed, eyes staring up into nothingness, the very image of a corpse at rest. He found it slightly unsettling, as usual. He closed the door and went back into the kitchen, where he rummaged through everything long enough to find something quick and easy to eat.
The phone rang. He shot a glance at it then crossed the room to pick it up. “Yeah?"
"Loki. I see you're finally home."
"Who is this?"
"Ah, yes. I'd forgotten. You wouldn't remember me, but we were friends once."
A suspicion struck Loki and he scowled at nothing. “Hades?"
"I should be flattered,” the voice answered. “You guessed without even knowing anything about me."
"Save it,” Loki grunted. “What do you want?"
"Maybe I just called to catch up with an old friend.” The voice was urbane, polished, and hardly the voice of someone who'd spent several millennia trapped away from the world.
"Bullshit. You want something."
"I want a meeting with Athena."
Loki thought he detected a note of gloating in that last statement. This is the bastard who killed Deryk. “Not going to happen, Hades."
"Oh, I think it will. I harbor no ill will toward her—she's not on my ‘hit list’ as they say in this modern age. But if she refuses ... Let's just say it'll cause a commotion enough to wake the dead."
In the midst of a sudden chill, Loki knew exactly what Hades meant. “You wouldn't."
"Oh? Not so long ago—as we reckon it—force of arms equaled power, quite separate from wealth. Now that's not so true. So I want an alliance with someone with the kind of power I need—someone who can help me acquire it. I have soldiers a-plenty, but I need more.
"Besides, the public seems very intrigued by the idea of zombies and other undead creatures. I figure I owe it to them to give them a demonstration."
He's a lunatic. “I'll pass the message."
"You do that. I'll be in touch."
The connection dropped. “Shit,” murmured Loki. “How did he find me? Why didn't he just call Athena at Shea?"
He didn't have any answers.
* * * *
He'd had enough. First it was the goblins muscling in on his turf, now these ... things. Huge, demonic, horrifying creatures with eyes like distant fires and skin like black latex stretched over monstrous frames.
And the news. That bitch—the one he'd seen with Sarah, the one who'd identified herself as his tormenter—now the CEO of one of the largest companies in Washington State. On one hand it was bad beyond belief. That she had that kind of power now meant it was only a matter of time before she brought it to bear on him. She wanted him gone, out of the city. Now what would she want—him out of the state? Or the country altogether? She could push harder than ever.
So why hadn't she? Probably had more important things on her mind than a second-rate hood.
Didn't mean she'd leave him alone indefinitely. Sooner or later he'd pop up on her radar and she'd go after him for real with all the resources now at her disposal. He thought about that for a while.
Nothing really held him here, when you got right down to it. He'd lost control of his tiny empire. He no longer called his own shots. The monsters were doing it.
He glanced down at the bracelet still hanging loosely around his wrist. All he had to do was activate it and he'd be a power again. But ever since he'd put the damn thing on it had made him leery. If left with no other choice, perhaps. But ... his organization might belong to someone else, but, at least for now, he belonged to no one but himself. That could change in a moment if he used the device—the sym—whatever that was.
The notion definitely made him consider taking that step very carefully.
As far as this woman—Athena—went ... A slow smile crept across his face. He knew how to handle her. Once and for all. Before, even after he had an idea of who she was, he couldn't find her. Now—well, she was out there for all the world to see.
Easy enough to take care of that problem.
* * * *
Athena had resisted moving into Shea's suite. She knew it would be only a matter of time before she started redecorating and making it her own. She wasn't ready to accept his death yet. Sometimes she expected him to walk through the door and tell her it had all been a mistake. Sometimes she wished for that the way she'd never wished for anything before in her life. What made her feel bad, however, was that she couldn't decide whether it was because she wanted to see Shea alive, or that she wanted out of the obligation he'd stuck her with.
She'd tried to call a gathering but no one showed. Figured. As much as they seemed to hate Shea, they weren't willing to accept a replacement. Least of all an immortal without any powers. She began to feel adrift, alone, and just a little lost.
"Goodnight, Ms. Cross,” said the night security guy at the front door. She absently nodded in his direction and pushed herself out into the chill November evening. A light sprinkle fell from the sky and she pulled the collar of her jacket up to keep it from running down the back of her neck.
She felt the impact of the bullet the instant before hearing the crack of the rifle. She stumbled back, blood pouring from the wound in her chest. She felt the slug slow and stop less than an inch from her spine. Her first thought was to make sure there were no witnesses. Then she looked for the shooter.
She spotted someone across the street and trotted that direction, ignoring the pain from the bullet wound as her body worked to eject the foreign object and heal the tissue behind it. That can't be the shooter.
The woman was on her knees, staring at her hands, a rifle lying on the sidewalk in front of her, apparently forgotten. Her eyes were wide, her features vaguely familiar. My god. She could be Johnny Gitano's sister.
Prettier than he is, of course, but that wouldn't be all that difficult.
The strange woman's hands were roaming her body underneath her gray trench coat. They froze about the level of her breasts and she inhaled sharply. “No. It's impossible."
Athena reached down and snatched up the rifle. Glancing around once more, she grasped the stock in one hand and broke it off. Then she proceeded to bend the steel barrel double, twisting it around a few times until it fatigued enough to break off. She gave it a toss onto a nearby rooftop and lifted the now sobbing woman up by the scruff of her neck. “Someone's bound to investigate that shot,” she growled. “I think you and I should find somewhere private to talk."
Fourteen
Athena stared at the woman disbelievingly. It was impossible. Wasn't it? The woman who sat there, shivering on her couch, was—or had been—Johnny Gitano. There was only one possible explanation for what had happened to him. Magic.
"Tell me, Johnny. Or should I start calling you Johnette now? You didn't happ
en to piss off a red-haired woman recently, did you?” She couldn't quite hide the smirk.
Her head came up. “Her? I should've known you had something to do with this."
"Actually, no. Not directly. Barely even indirectly.” She smiled broadly. “No, Johnette, this was what we like to call a happy coincidence. You just happened to run afoul of the single woman on the face of the planet who currently knows how to use magic effectively."
And somehow attacking me caused him to change. Some kind of ... what do they call it? ‘Binding?' She nodded to herself. She seemed to remember that term. “What did you do? Hit her?” She restrained her urge to laugh. On one level it struck her as quite amusing. On another, it was anything but. “You're a pathetic thing, Johnny. You really are. This is no less than you deserve."
Johnny sat there silently, fondling the bracelet hanging off his now much narrower wrist. She was laughing at him. Rage rose like a fountain from deep within him. Red spots swam before his eyes and he could feel this heart pounding against his chest. “You should be dead!” she screamed, surging to her feet. “I shot you in the chest. I saw the blood all over you. Why aren't you dead?"
Athena felt her jaw tighten. “I'm not dead because I can't die,” she told her, not concerned about how honest the statement actually was. For the first time in weeks, Shea didn't bob to the surface of her thoughts. “I'm your worst fucking nightmare, an enemy you can't get rid of."
As ridiculous as it seemed, Johnny believed her. What choice did he—she—have? He looked down at the bracelet again and willed it to do something. Anything.
Something exploded from the bracelet on Johnny's wrist and shot upward, a geyser of inky blackness that enveloped the woman in the span of a heartbeat. Beneath the blanket of black she who had been Johnny Gitano let out a blood-curdling scream. It bubbled like boiling tar, then contracted, forming around the naked figure of the suddenly alien figure on its hands and knees in the middle of Athena's living room.
Black skin the color of midnight rippled over huge, rolling muscles as she rose to her feet. Bare breasts, tipped with nipples only slightly lighter than purest night, bounced slightly as she threw out and flexed all six of her arms in unison. White teeth gleamed out of a face like a mask of shadow.
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