by A. J. Menden
“It’s taking the whole team?” Edgar was powerful, but not that powerful. And he wasn’t usually violent.
Cyrus shrugged. “He’s a particular kind of wound up today, apparently.”
“It’s mostly Wesley and Lainey that are going to be dealing with him. The rest are on crowd control,” Mindy said. She headed for the control room.
I carted Emily off to her room to play. The little girl seemed more used to the idea of being stuck here with the rest of us, her mommy being away. “Fay watch TV?” she asked when I sat her down.
“Not me, but if you must, go ahead.” I motioned to a selection of DVDs on the wall. “Pick one.”
She selected one with a brightly colored box and a cartoon monkey. “This!”
“Whatever.” I knew enough about the DVD machine to know how to stick the disc in, but not how to work it. God help me if I ever have to work the EHJ’s complicated database for their own entertainment. I was lucky that Emily, being a two-year-old, was still a bit behind the times like myself. “Know how to play this thing?”
“Uh-huh.” She found a remote control and started pushing buttons.
“Your parents must be so proud.”
The show immediately started with music. An animated monkey was singing and dancing with real children about being a good friend and always helping people and never being mean to anyone. It was nauseating, saccharine-sweet and condescending at the same time. I began to think the EHJ should play this video at every villain they caught. They’d give up their secrets within minutes.
Emily, unfortunately, loved it.
One of the on-screen boys pushed one of the little girls down. The cartoon monkey chastised him: “That’s not how we treat our friends. What do you say, Tyson?”
“Sorry,” the bratty kid responded.
“And what do you say, Megan?”
I suggested, “Do it again and I’ll rip out your entrails?”
“Fay, shh!” Emily gave me a serious look and put a finger to her lips. She looked just like her father when she did that.
“I forgive you,” said the little girl on the television.
I groaned. “This stuff is rotting your brain, Emily.”
“He silly,” Emily replied, watching the monkey do a dance with the children in celebration of everyone being friends again.
I couldn’t take it. “This show has an overly simplistic way of looking at things, Em. In the real world not everyone wants to be your friend, and the bad people won’t apologize for hurting you. And sometimes even someone you think is your friend will turn around and hurt you. Or leave you. Remember that. The real world sucks.”
You would think a child of superheroes would be more aware of that than anyone, but I had a feeling Wesley and Lainey wanted to keep Emily as sheltered as possible, all because there was the possibility that she might destroy the world one day. I had lived long enough to know that prophecies come and go. So had Wesley lived that long; he just didn’t remember. But no matter what, I refuse to think of us as slaves to fate. Emily would have the choice between saving the world or destroying it. And watching all-smiles, happy-all-the-time television wasn’t going to be what made her choose good over evil. If anything, it was going to lead her screaming toward its destruction. At least, it would if she was anything like her half sister.
To protect her sanity and mine, I stepped in front of the television. “How about we say good-bye to the monkey and play a game instead?”
Emily frowned at the distraction but then brightened. “Hide-and-seek?”
“If it’ll end this hell, sounds like fun. But we’ve got to stay in this room, okay?”
She nodded, and I triumphantly shut off the monkey in midsong. Take that, Spurious George.
“Fay hide,” Emily commanded.
I sighed. “Fine. Close your eyes and turn around.”
She immediately started giggling and did so. I briefly considered going back to my bar and hiding in my pocket dimension to see if her powers were great enough that she could follow me, but then I decided that was probably too hard for a two-year-old. And Wesley would be furious that I took his little girl to a bar. I was supposed to be setting a good example.
I lay down in her bed and pulled the covers up over me. A few moments later, I heard more giggling. A small body hurled itself atop me.
“Got you!”
I flipped off the covers. “Yeah, you got me, all right. You go hide now and I’ll get you.”
I pulled the covers back over my head and started counting. More giggling followed, and I figured she was just trying to hide behind one of her toys. Then I heard the door open.
“Emily!” I jumped up. “You’re not supposed to be outside of here. Stay in.”
The little girl took off out the door and into the hallway, running and giggling all the way.
I followed. “Emily! Will you stop? Mindy doesn’t want you bothering her right now.”
She turned the corner and went into another room, me hot on her heels. Great.
“Did you make a break for it from the mean old lady, kiddo?” Cyrus asked, looking up from a computer.
I frowned at him. “We’re playing hide-and-seek. Or chase the Emily. Whatever keeps me from having to watch stupid cartoon monkeys.”
“Did he sing the ‘Song of Friends’ yet?”
“I do believe the virtues of friendship were extolled, yes.” My half sister crawled around the computer desk and onto Cyrus’s lap, and I warned, “Emily, leave him alone.”
“She’s fine.” He watched as she reached for the computer keyboard.
“I don’t want her to go around climbing up on strange men’s laps.”
“Don’t want her to end up like her favorite babysitter, you mean?”
“So funny.”
“Besides, I’m not a stranger, am I, Emily?”
“Unca C!” Emily said, cheerfully beating on his keyboard.
“Go easy on that,” he said. Turning to me he added, “See? I’m Uncle C.”
“And Wesley and Lainey are okay with that?” I quirked an eyebrow. “Somehow I doubt it.”
“I think it’s growing on them. Much like I am.” He smiled at me, that same expression full of mischief that made my stomach flip. The corners of my mouth turned up, totally unintentionally. I don’t have a maternal bone in my body, but seeing a big, tough guy like him sitting with my baby sister on his lap did warm things to me. No guy is ever more attractive than when he’s showing he’d be a good father.
I tried to shake thoughts like that away. It’s an animal instinct for preserving the species, I reminded myself. Nothing more.
I tried to get back to more comfortable ground. “Interesting, how you compare yourself to a fungus,” I said, and walked around the desk to stand behind Cyrus. He hurriedly went to click something off the screen, but not before I could see a picture of a young girl at a softball game.
“Wait, is that—?”
He clicked to another page. “Trying to find an old sports score. Got a bet on an upcoming baseball game and wanted to see how the teams were doing.”
Uh-huh. Sure. “Is betting on baseball games on the approved activities list for a legit guy? I’ll bet the EHJ are overly moralistic about gambling.”
He shrugged. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Gotta make a little side cash.”
“Uh-huh. Come on, Emily, let’s leave Uncle C to his unsavory business practices.”
“She’s fine, Fantazia. She can play on the computer if she wants. Not everyone is fearful of technology like you are.”
“All that technology has ever done for the world is make it easier for people to spy on each other.” I nodded to his computer. “Like you were just doing.”
He frowned and said, “So you should love it, since you like to stick your nose in everyone else’s goddamn business.”
“Don’t swear in front of Emily. What kind of role model is that for a little girl?”
If looks could kill, his would have oblitera
ted me. “Whoever said I was a good role model for a little girl?”
“Not me.”
“And not me either.” His eyes narrowed. “And neither are you, the way you act. Emily doesn’t need to be around a coldhearted bitch who cares for nothing and no one other than herself. All you want is power.”
That really stung and it shouldn’t. It was nothing I hadn’t heard. I’d worked hard to build that power-hungry rep. It kept people from expecting anything I didn’t want to give, because everyone always seems to expect something. And they never want to give in return. If that’s the image I want to project, then why did it hurt that it was what he thought of me?
“I thought the Old One had something over you, what with you both having long pasts, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s the other way around: you’ve got something over him, and you’re using it to get close and corrupt his only daughter.”
I clenched my jaw and looked away so he wouldn’t see how much that barb hit home. Clearly I’d struck a nerve and now he was retaliating, all guns blazing. I reminded myself that he didn’t know the first thing about me, considering he had just named Emily as the Reincarnist’s only daughter.
“So, now you think I’m part of the Dragon cult?” I growled.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. “If there’s something you can get out of it.”
That did it. I glared at him. “How dare you? How dare you suggest I would do anything to hurt her?”
Emily winced. “Fay loud.”
“Yes, Fay’s loud when she’s being insulted!” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave Cyrus a death look. “I can’t believe that even you would dare suggest I’m a heartless user of a little kid.”
“You know how I dare?” Cyrus stared me down and I had to fight not to look away from that icy gaze. “I dare because that’s how you act all the time, Fantazia. You act like you’re a coldhearted man-eater who doesn’t care about anything or anyone. Why would it matter that Em’s a kid?”
“Down!” Emily protested, obviously getting sick of listening to us yell at each other. Cyrus did as she commanded, setting her on the floor.
I glared at him. “Maybe it’s not all of humanity that I would leave to die and step over the bodies on my way out, Cyrus. Maybe it’s just most of them. Maybe I have a few people on my good list, people who’ve earned it or deserve it. Ever think of that?”
“Actually, I think you might potentially care about more people than you think, Fantazia.” His voice was soft.
I couldn’t read his expression; his face was a neutral mask, if his eyes held a bit of warmth. “So, now you’re saying that deep down I actually care about people? Why don’t you make up your damn mind.” I watched Emily toddle around the room and head straight for an electric socket. “No! Don’t touch that, Emily!”
“I get glimpses of a possible soul from you now and again,” Cyrus said, nodding at Emily. “When you let the big ‘I’m a bad girl’ act slip. On the rare occasion.”
“She’s just on my good list,” I murmured.
Whispering under my breath, I created a glowing ball of light for Emily to chase around the room. She squealed with delight as it floated just out of her grasp at every turn. I enjoyed her enthusiasm, then looked up to see Cyrus with a knowing smile on his face.
I frowned. “What?”
“When you let the mask slip, you’re something else, Fantazia.”
His voice was tinged with real admiration. I felt my pulse quicken as I caught his gaze and saw warmth there. I didn’t know how to respond to that, and I felt heat come to my face. What was going on with me? I just didn’t like it when people caught a glimpse of my softer side, I reminded myself, that’s all it was. I said, “Well, don’t let the sight of me being nice to a little girl fool you. Like I said, she’s on my good list. Most of humanity is not.”
“Am I on the good list?” Cyrus asked, his voice still a bit warm.
I felt the need to break the moment and scoffed. “It’s a very short list.”
He laughed harshly. “I would think you’d get exhausted, proving to the world you don’t care all the time.”
“It’s easier than you think,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I did it every single day, every single hour when I was in jail. Before that, too, when I was big, bad Cyrus the Virus. I know how tiring it is, living like that.”
I was saved from having to find a response by Emily squealing, “Pity light!”
“Yes, it is a pretty light,” I said automatically. Then I turned to look at her. It was not my ball of magic the little girl was talking about. There was a bright white rectangle of light, almost like a shimmering doorway.
Cyrus must have caught my astonishment. He turned and muttered, “What the hell? Where’d that come from?”
Alarms started screaming. I grabbed Emily by the arm and jerked her behind me. At the same moment a man emerged from the portal and fell to the floor in front of us. He struggled forward, trying to push himself upright, but fell back down again.
I gasped. “Joseph?”
He managed to look up at me. “Well? You said you’d protect me, Fantazia. Start protecting.” He slumped forward again onto the floor.
CHAPTER SIX
“He just appeared in the room?” Wesley was saying.
We were standing in the EHJ infirmary, staring at the still-unconscious Joseph. The rest of the Elite Hands of Justice had returned home. Edgar was back in jail.
“He teleported in,” I said. “Opened a portal and plopped himself down.”
Wesley frowned. “He’s not supposed to be able to do that. We thought we had this place locked down for magic-users outside the three of us.” He was referring to himself, Lainey and me. “Oh, and Cyrus,” he said as an afterthought.
“That’s right, I’m still a part of this dog and pony show,” Cyrus grunted.
“I think that right there is your problem,” I said.
Wesley gave a small smile. “Cyrus?”
“Hey!”
“No,” I said, ignoring the Virus’s protest. “Well, yes but no. I mean the reason the spell isn’t working right is probably because you’ve got too many loopholes. A strong enough magic-user could manipulate those. You need to go ahead and lock it down all the way. At the very least, make it so you and only you can teleport in and out.”
“They’ll be giving up their favorite babysitter,” Cyrus said. “Like you’re going to take the bus here, Fantazia.”
I glared at him. “No, but if I teleport in and out on the ground floor, down near the Cuppacino, and Wesley locks off the top floor, it’ll give this place better security. The ground floor is public, but it has all of those high-tech security measures that Mindy put in place, like automatic body scans and ray guns and I-don’t-know-what-all else.”
“That’s a good point. We’ll look into doing that,” Wesley said. “But now back to the matter at hand.” He eyed Joseph.
“He said he needed protection right before he passed out,” I said.
“Any indication as to what he needs protection from?”
I shrugged. “He was in the bar the other day, saying there are rumors going around that something or someone is going around draining magic-users of their magic. The less powerful ones,” I added.
Wesley frowned. “Interesting.”
I felt a brief tingle of remorse that I hadn’t alerted the EHJ to possible wrongdoing in the city, but it wasn’t really my job. I’m not on one of the world’s premier superhero teams. I just own a bar. “Someone’s always slapping someone else with a binding spell. Hell, you did it to Syn before one of the Dragon’s cronies dropped him onto that flagpole.”
“I’d love to shake that person’s hand,” Cyrus muttered. There had been incredibly bad blood between him and the other villain, as I remember.
“I didn’t think much of the information at the time,” I continued.
“But it worried one of the Brothers of Power.”
/> Wesley stared at me, and I couldn’t help but bristle a bit under his gaze. It was like he was lecturing me with his eyes about being an irresponsible person. This was a look a parent would give a teenager for doing something incredibly boneheaded, and I resented it. Like he had ever given me that look when I needed it. He’d forgotten who I was by the time I was a teenager doing bonehead things like running off with that soldier who immediately dumped me for a vestal virgin in the next town. He wasn’t there then, and he wasn’t there when my heart was really breaking, so he wasn’t allowed go all lecturing and paternal now.
I glared back at him. “It’s not my concern what worries the Brothers of Power. I’m not their mother, and they don’t pay me to act as their bodyguard.”
Wesley kept frowning, and turned back at Joseph. “Television’s eaten his brain,” he muttered.
I surely hadn’t heard correctly. “What?”
Wes looked up. “Hmm? Oh, just something Edgar Ragde said. I thought they were just the ramblings of a mentally ill man, but . . .” He trailed off and shrugged. “The only way we’re going to know is to wake Joseph up.”
“Good luck with that,” I said.
Wesley just ignored me and started mumbling under his breath in Italian, casting some sort of diagnostic spell. His hands hovered over the unconscious Joseph’s body. He was doing something other than raising the man to consciousness.
“I’m surprised you didn’t think of that,” Cyrus said to me. I shushed him with a look.
“Our friend’s concern was reasonable,” Wesley announced when he was done. “His magic has been depleted, and not from trying an overpowered spell. His human willpower has also been taken.”
That really wasn’t good. Taking someone else’s magic to boost your own was bad enough, but taking willpower was worse. Magic-users tapped into their own will to power spells. If someone was tapping into someone else’s willpower to cast a spell, at the very least it might leave them unable to perform magic again. At the very worst, it could put a hole in them, much the same as someone eating at their soul, leaving them incredibly open to corruption from outside sources. Anyone could walk up and tell them to kill someone, and they’d have to actually do it.