I ended up in the Maserati with Giordano, the driver, and one of the smoking mobsters from the storage room. The other stayed behind with Eddy and Irma, guarding them and nothing more. The car was silent; gangsters apparently didn’t talk much on the job.
Silence was fine with me, because it gave me the chance to finally think about everything I’d been told. At first, I wondered if I’d been wrong about Mental, and that he really was the one behind the whole thing, but it didn’t fit. He hadn’t killed Harris, and that was where it had all begun. He might be the puppet master behind this whole mystery, but it seemed more likely he’d just kidnapped Elisa out of revenge.
I’d called her right outside his apartment yesterday afternoon, mere moments after humiliating him. He could have been listening in, or he could have already known I had a daughter. He might have sworn right then and there to get back at me, or maybe he’d heard on the news that I’d been arrested and saw an opportunity. He’d made sure Eddy and Irma had seen him. He wanted me to know he’d taken her, but he’d counted on me being helpless to do anything about it.
And was he really wrong? I wasn’t sure I could even find him. Surely he wouldn’t just take Elisa back to his apartment.
If she was even still alive.
No, if he wanted to kill her, he wouldn’t have bothered to kidnap her. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. He must have something big and dramatic planned.
But who knew what he was doing to her in the meantime.
The contents of my stomach churned, and I almost threw up in the car. I was going to kill him. If he’d so much as touched her wrong, I was going to crush his fat head like a melon. Slowly. And I was going to look him in the eye while I did it.
“Stop here,” I said, about a block away from Mental’s apartment. “Much farther and we’ll be in range of his telepathy.”
The driver pulled over to the side of the road. There were a few flickering streetlights, but this part of Wynwood wasn’t an area you’d want to walk alone in at night any more than the Belmontes’ empty rental storage lot. The buildings and fences were rundown, and in the darkness, you couldn’t even see the graffiti. I pointed to the particular broken-down hole that was Mental’s.
“He’s on the second floor,” I said. “Room 205.”
And if he wasn’t there, I was going to search through every inch of his sterilized rooms until I found out where he’d taken my daughter.
Giordano produced a standard-issue handcuff key and finally got me out of the things. All I needed now was a bottle of Vicodin, a month’s rest, and my cane back, and I’d be golden.
“Entrances and exits?” he asked.
“Just one staircase.”
He didn’t seem to like that answer.
“I should go in first,” I said. “And you all follow in five minutes. I’ll have his attention by then, if he’s there.”
After a moment of thought, Giordano nodded.
“And I should take the car,” I added.
“Absolutely not.”
“I can’t walk there.”
“I’ll drive you.”
I shook my head. “He’ll sense you and read your mind. It’ll give the whole thing away.”
A slight lowering of his eyebrows was all that indicated Giordano was insulted. “I’ve been working for the Belmontes since I was fifteen. I know how to broadcast psychic static.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Giordano ordered the other two out and told them to follow in five minutes. Then he got into the driver’s seat.
I was careful not to think of the plan as we pulled into the apartment’s parking lot. Instead, I focused on just how much all my injuries hurt. I had a black eye, bruised shoulder, burnt skin—the list went on and on. My knee was never going to forgive me. It should be elevated right now and covered in ice packs, not bent inside a car with little legroom. I think someone had replaced my joints with hot coals, and in case I thought it couldn’t get any worse, each beat of my heart made everything throb with pain even more. The fight with Shield Maiden hadn’t helped the bruised ribs Giordano had given me last night, and my side ached every time I moved. Plus, my head hadn’t stopped pounding. If Mental was reading my mind, I hoped he got a good taste.
There should have been police sirens, I realized as Giordano pulled into the parking lot. Mental had that ankle monitor; it should have gone off the moment he stepped out of his apartment to grab Elisa. The police and DSA were stretched thin today, but not that thin. The man was a supervillain with telepathic powers. They took that sort of thing seriously. Had he found a way to get the ankle monitor off without them knowing?
Unless he hadn’t taken Elisa, and another telepath had made Eddy and Irma think they’d seen him. Or it could have been something else: a shape-shifter, or someone who could bend light into illusions. There were all sorts of powers that could have been used to trick them. Then this wasn’t an unrelated revenge plot, and someone else really was pulling the strings. Maybe they just wanted to play with me, sending me back to bother Mental after he was the first suspect I’d ruled out. Or else, the whole thing was a trap.
I had no idea what to expect, so I tried to be ready for anything. But of course, that was impossible.
“Dad!”
The moment Giordano helped me out of the car, I heard Elisa shriek. She dashed across the dark parking lot and slammed into me. I hit the side of the Maserati, denting it, and would have fallen if she weren’t hugging me tightly enough to keep me upright. My bruised ribs screamed in agony, but I couldn’t have cared less. I closed my eyes and focused on “The Song that Gets on Everybody’s Nerves,” sealing off my mind from everything else. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes again, and Elisa was still there. She wasn’t an illusion some telepath had projected into my mind. She was real.
I put my arms around her, realized she was one of the few people in the world I didn’t have to worry about crushing, and hugged with all my might. She was here. She was okay. I could barely believe it. I didn’t want to let go of her, afraid she would disappear if I did. I took a deep breath and could smell the citrus shampoo in her hair, exactly the same as Val's. It drove her mom up the wall the way Elisa used her things without asking. I smiled and could almost pretend everything was how it should be. But Elisa was shaking like a leaf, and Val wasn’t part of the reunion.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “Did he hurt you?”
Elisa extracted herself from my arms, and I had to put a hand on the car to support myself. I looked her up and down for injuries, but Mental wasn’t one for physical violence.
She rubbed her eyes. “I’m okay.”
“Is Mental still here?” I looked over at the apartment, expecting a trap.
“No,” she said. “He—he’s not—he’s—”
“Start from the beginning,” Giordano said.
Elisa’s head swung toward him, and then she instantly looked away. I put an arm around her. She flinched at first, but then leaned into me gratefully.
“He made me come with him. I’m sorry. Mom said I’d be vulnerable now that I’m more sensitive to that stuff, but I didn’t—I couldn’t—”
“It’s not your fault,” I said sternly.
“Irma and Eddy—are they okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, glaring at Giordano.
She shivered, hugging herself even though it wasn’t cold. “He drove me here. I had to go with him. He was making my legs move, and once I walked to the car and sat down, I couldn’t move at all. I tried to remember everything you and Mom told me to do if that ever happened—I really did.”
“Not your fault,” I said again. “Mental’s had decades to get good at what he does. You can’t expect to fight something like that your first time.”
She looked worriedly around the empty parking lot, and I waited for her to gather herself together enough to continue. If Giordano tried to rush her, I swore I was going to break him in half.
“Then we got here,
” she said. “And… he… He was poking around in my head. Playing with me.”
I took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. I didn’t think about tearing Mental limb from limb, because my mind would picture it all too clearly. Elisa was right here, and I didn’t need her to telepathically pick up on what it felt like to snap someone’s bones in half with your bare hands. I had to think of something else to distract myself. The ankle monitor—how had he gotten it off? I could wonder about that.
“He hired someone to hack it,” said Elisa. “This guy he met in prison. When he was in my head, I… I could feel what was in his head, too. He was thinking about it, and all the things he was going to do to me…”
I reached for her and pulled her close. “It’s over,” I said, half to reassure her, and half to reassure myself. “It’s over.”
She swallowed. “I told him that by the time you and Mom finished with him, he wouldn’t even be able to go to the bathroom without a nurse to help, but he said you were both in jail, and nobody was coming to save me, and—” The words tumbled out of her mouth too fast. “And I—I mean, I was scared, but I knew that wasn’t right. Even if you and Mom were gone and couldn’t come for me, Grandpa would send somebody.”
Lucio definitely would. And as much as I hated the old man, right now I was incredibly comforted by that fact.
“And he—Mental—sensed that, and started freaking out.” She looked up at me for the first time since she’d started talking. “And he said I was wrong because everyone knew the Black Valentine had been kicked out of the family, and that Mr. Lucifer hated her. But I’m still the only grandchild and Grandpa never really… Well, I knew he’d probably send somebody, and Mental was reading my mind, so it wasn’t like I could have lied.”
Mental, you stupid bastard, I thought. Did you really think Lucio Belmonte wouldn’t mind if you murdered his only granddaughter? Then again, part of me could see it. Lucio was ruthless, and he had a reputation. I wouldn’t be surprised if the rumors of just how angry he was at Val had become exaggerated. Supervillains gossiped like school girls, and Lucio had formally disowned her. But still.
You know what? I didn’t care. Elisa was safe, and Mental was an idiot. End of story.
“So he panicked and ran away,” I said, more as a statement than a question.
Elisa’s entire body tensed. Her lower lip trembled, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “No. No, he was going to kill me. Then go back and get rid of Eddy and Irma—everyone who had seen his face. But he—he panicked and was losing control.” She shuddered. “He got close to me, and I could move so I—I—”
She didn’t have to finish; I could picture the rest.
She was holding my arm tight enough to cut off circulation, her eyes wide and white. And it wasn’t Mental she was afraid of—it was me. She was waiting for my response like I was her judge, jury, and executioner. How could she possibly think I’d condemn her at a time like this? She’d fought back and saved herself. I was breathless with pride and relief. I just wanted to tell her over and over that I loved her and everything was going to be all right.
She slumped, and some of the tension left her body. I wasn’t shielding my thoughts; she must have sensed what I felt. But sometimes words needed to be said.
“I know,” I said. “I know how hard it is to control, especially this early, but you didn’t do anything wrong. He would have killed you, and Eddy and Irma, too.” I put my hand under her chin, tilting her face upward so that she had to look at me as I smiled sadly. “You did great.”
She looked away, and my heart broke as I watched her. No one should have a death on her conscience at such a young age, least of all my little girl. Damn Mental. If I end up in hell for the things I’ve done, then at least I’ll have the opportunity to kick the crap out of him for all eternity.
“I’ll have someone dispose of the body,” said Giordano. I think it was his attempt to be helpful and comforting.
“You can’t—” I bit back my response. Pick your battles, Del Toro. Ethical issues or not, I had more important things to be worrying about.
The pair of mobsters we’d left behind approached slowly from the street, their five minutes apparently up. Giordano waved them over.
“We’ve wasted enough time,” he said. “Elisa, come with me.”
I stiffened. Half my brain was going into a fight-or-flight response, and the other half was calling it stupid. Giordano didn’t move, but his eyes were fixed on me.
It took Elisa a moment to realize what he was talking about. “What? No!” She gripped my arm even tighter, staring at Giordano. “I’m not going with you. Where’s Mom?”
I grimaced. This was the last thing I wanted to tell her right now.
“She’s in prison again?” Elisa looked back and forth between us.
“No,” I said. “She was arrested, but… someone got past the DSA and took her.”
“You mean someone broke her out?”
I shook my head, and the hope faded from her face like something inside her was dying.
“It’s more likely they took advantage of her being drugged and imprisoned to kidnap her,” I said.
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet, but I have a lead.”
“Then what are you waiting for? You have to go!”
My eyes darted to Giordano, and this time Elisa had no trouble meeting his gaze. “You can’t take me back,” she told him. “You have to help Mom.”
“Your grandfather ordered me to bring you home,” he said in a low voice. “Your mother made her choice when she left us. She’s on her own.”
Elisa stomped her foot, and the pavement cracked. “That’s bullshit.”
Giordano regarded her stoically.
Elisa looked back at me, and her expression was like a sword through the chest. She was lost. She was scared. She needed her father to help her, and damn it all but I couldn’t.
The simple truth was that I couldn’t take Giordano and his men in my current condition. And nothing I could say would persuade them to change their minds. The best thing I could do right now was… No, I couldn’t even think it.
But I did, and Elisa heard.
I could tell by the horrified look on her face before she pulled away from me. I was afraid she was going to make a break for it, and Giordano would have to run her down and drag her back, kicking and screaming, but she didn’t. She turned her back on both of us, her shoulders curling in, and just stood there, trembling. I wanted to reach out to her but was afraid she’d recoil. My chest was tight, my stomach cold. I’d blown it. She was my daughter, and I’d failed her, and she wasn’t ever going to forget it.
Then she straightened up, hands clenched, and glared. She didn’t look broken or betrayed, just really, really annoyed. “Fine,” she spat at Giordano. “But I want to go home and pack first.”
“Out of the question,” Giordano said. “Your house is crawling with DSA agents.”
“Then you’re taking me shopping.”
Giordano almost managed to hide his alarm. Almost, but not quite. “There are clothes at the house—”
“That some maid picked out. No thanks. And I want to stop by the grocery store and buy ice cream, too. Grandpa only ever has frozen yogurt.”
“Miss Belmonte—”
“And dibs on the car radio. No way I’m listening to that oldies stuff you guys always put on.”
I couldn’t hide my smile. Elisa might not be able to stop Giordano from taking her to Lucio, but she’d be a bratty mafia princess every step of the way. Going back to the Belmontes… It would be hard for her. Emotionally, it would put her in a very bad place, but it wouldn’t be for long. When I saved Val, she’d make Lucio give Elisa back.
If I saved Val…
“Don’t be stupid.” Elisa looked at me with her usual exasperation. “It’s not the DSA now. It’s just a bad guy. You can take care of bad guys. You saved me, remember?”
I opened my mouth to say she saved herself from Mental,
but she wasn’t talking about that. She was talking about the time before.
She looked so much older, somehow. Beneath all my bruises, my chest swelled with pride.
“You’re a very brave girl,” I whispered.
She hugged me, and I hugged her back, refusing to believe this was the last time I’d hold her. Then the mobsters escorted her into the car.
Giordano looked at me, but I couldn’t decipher his expression.
“I’ll send Irma by to pick you up,” he said.
Then he got into the Maserati, and they all drove away.
• • •
Is anyone out there keeping score? Let’s review.
I’d interfered in a DSA investigation, endangered several lives, assaulted three upstanding superheroes, caused a car crash while breaking out of DSA custody, thrown in my lot with murderers and thieves, and now I’d let the mafia drive off with my daughter.
Some superhero I was.
And what did I have to show for it? I’d gambled the things most precious to me, broken the law and my own moral codes, and I’d gotten two names: Trick and Treat. They weren’t even real names. And the only thing I knew for sure was that they’d tampered with Ruby’s mind. I didn’t think they could have kidnapped Val.
I just wanted to flop down on the pavement and lie there until Irma showed up. That is, if Giordano was really going to send her to come get me. He could just call the cops on Mental’s murder, leaving them to find me here right outside his apartment.
Damn.
I dragged my battered body out of the parking lot and across the street. It took several minutes and a lot of pain. The graffiti-covered fence was broken in places, and I slipped through the gap and collapsed on the other side. If Irma arrived, I’d show myself. If the police came… I’d have to drag myself farther away until I found a cab or a payphone or something. I wasn’t sure if I could manage it. Sitting there on the hard ground with old wood at my back, I could barely keep my eyes open. I was a wreck.
Time passed. No, that wasn’t right. Time ran me over, reversed, and then hit me again. I sat there with nothing but pain for company. I couldn’t focus my thoughts. My head hurt, but everything hurt, so I didn’t know what made my brain think it was so special. I wanted to pass out, but didn’t dare, just in case Irma actually did come.
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