by Ekeke, C. C.
…slamming face-first into a hard, invisible wall.
Hugo got thrown backward as if kicked by a mule. He landed on his back, J-Tom’s body skidding from reach across the floor.
He shook off the dizziness and pushed up. Hugo saw only an ornate foyer and door, but his heightened senses tingled from some energy field blocking the exit. “Security Protocol?” He understood now. “Dammit.”
“Oh my gawd! I KNEW you were a super!” Spencer cried from upstairs. “But a speedster?”
Hugo scrambled across the floor to grab J-Tom. Spencer knew? And he’d actually thought he’d fooled her. Hugo’s heart pounded so hard, he could barely hear himself think. Now what?
“As IF I bought your energy healing bullshit?” she scoffed, descending the stairwell. “BTW, even Titan couldn’t break that forcefield.”
Holding J-Tom’s body in his arms, Hugo zipped toward the kitchen. “It was you in Nipomo!” he yelled. The truth hurt far more than her energy attacks. “You’re kidnapping supers for Paxton-Brandt!”
“How do you know—?” Spencer demanded from the living room, then gasped. “The Hood from Nipomo, who thrashed Vulcan? That's you?” Her outrage soared.
Hugo sprinted from the kitchen. “You said you trusted me.” He hid behind the couches. “Then lied about having powers?”
Spencer whirled toward his voice. “Look who’s talking?” she countered. “Total trust is a fairytale.” Her footsteps inched closer, like a predator. “Come out, Hugo, before this gets ugly.”
He placed J-Tom down gently and moved, racing past Spencer to the foot of the stairwell. “Kidnapping supers for Paxton-Brandt?” he asked hoarsely. “Why?”
Spencer spun around with a feral grin, looking quite demented. “If Titan could be killed, what hope did I have?” she rationalized. “I started interning for Paxton-Brandt since last winter to enter their gene therapy trials…and found out I already had powers.” Vitriol radiated off her. “Daddy suppressed them when I was seven. SEVEN!”
Hugo leaned away as another epiphany landed. “He doesn’t know about this.”
“Daddy lied to me for years!” Her smile turned cruel. “Paxton-Brandt helped me find my true self. Furthering their mission by capturing a few supers in exchange is a small price.”
Her lacking empathy shouldn’t have shocked Hugo after Jordana and Simon had warned him. Still, witnessing it was upsetting and disappointing. He tried again, appealing to some kind of humanity, taking cautious steps toward Spencer. “What if your dad saw what you’ve become?”
Spencer scoffed with a dismissive hair flip. “Daddy cares about his research and my sister,” she countered. “As long as my grades are good and I don’t get in trouble, I receive the bare minimum attention whenever he’s in town.” She lashed out with another barrage of dark energy forks.
Hugo crossed the living room in an instant, standing beside J-Tom. Her breathing improved, but she was still unconscious. His worry intensified. “Spence,” he pleaded gently.
Spencer turned toward her name. By her brazen joy, this chase was foreplay for her.
Hugo schooled all judgement from his voice. “Lower the forcefield and let J-Tom go. She’s not like us.”
Spencer threw her head back and chuckled. “Actually, you and Jen are a lot alike. Claiming to know me.” She began shimmering all over. “Hellbent on saving me.” She rocketed headlong, a radiant comet and slammed into Hugo’s chest.
He got thrown hard into the wall, the air driven out of him with a choked grunt. Hugo slumped to a seat, dazed and aching. Remembering her energy output in Nipomo, it dawned on Hugo that Spencer was holding back.
Her glow faded as she straddled his waist. “But you two never really saw me.” She stroked his hair with a triumphant look.
I’ve lost her. Hugo knew what had to be done, gut-wrenching as it was. “You and I.” Grief strangled his words. “Was any of it real?”
Spencer’s expression warmed. “Every moment,” she whispered, tracing his mouth with her thumb. “Your heroism is noble. But the hero either dies like Titan, gives up like my dad, or turns evil like Morningstar.” Heartache darkened her features. “Don’t be a hero, Bogie. Be with me.” Spencer leaned in and kissed his mouth. Despite himself, Hugo didn’t retreat from the taste of her tongue. Giving in feels so good…
But Hugo knew better. The world needed heroes, flaws and all. He took Spencer’s waist, drawing her away to clear his head.
He spied J-Tom several feet away, still unconscious. Fear seized him over her fate. “And Jen?”
Spencer glanced her way and sighed regrettably. “After a mindwipe, Jen can go back to her beach cleanups and dog rescues.” She grew fearful. “You don’t want Paxton-Brandt as an enemy.”
Hugo nodded, his decision made. “Okay….” He grabbed Spencer's waist, focusing on her psyche.
Spencer instantly went stiff as Hugo breached her mind.
Now he was drowning in a sludge of Spencer’s memories, good, bad, and ugly. He searched for a specifically gloomy recollection and dove in.
He suddenly appeared in a hazy kitchen, the walls scorched black by energy blasts. The air was heavy, like breathing in molasses
“Why are we back here?”
Hugo looked over his shoulder. Spencer stood in the center of the blackened kitchen like a doe in headlights. He had dragged them both into an unbearable memory of hers which he’d once helped her move past. Now, I have to leave Spencer here.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Hugo stated. “But I have to stop you.”
“No, Bogie,” Spencer begged. “Don’t leave me. Not here!” She lunged for him.
Hugo shoved her back into that kitchen and withdrew from her mind.
Spencer went from begging to cursing him out, then back to begging. Hugo swallowed a sob as memories and images rushed past in reverse. A moment later, Hugo was back in Spencer’s penthouse. She was still astride him, the light in her eyes gone as if switched off. She sagged forward onto Hugo.
He gently laid her on the floor, shutting her vacant eyes. “Sorry, Marshmallow.” Hugo had no clue how long that would contain her, but it was the best he could do.
His hands were trembling from the stress as he squatted and let his head hang. Another relationship destroyed, leaving him with no one.
That didn’t fix the forcefield issue. Right now, he was too mentally drained to care.
“Get away from my daughter.” The voice jolted Hugo to his feet.
A man stood just beyond the foyer, above average in height with salt-and-pepper hair trimmed and combed back. His black suit flattered a noticeable fit physique. But Hugo was more worried about the handgun pointed at him. And by those midnight-blue eyes like his daughter, Hugo knew this man wasn’t afraid to use his weapon.
“Dr. Michelman.” He’d met Spencer’s father twice on more friendly circumstances. Knowing Michelman was secretly the retired hero December changed everything.
Hugo stared, wondering how Dr. Michelman had got past the forcefield. Right, he remembered, it’s his penthouse.
Hugo studied his own charred tee and tattered jeans. His mind scrambled for an excuse.
Dr. Ezra Michelman’s glower deepened. “Last chance.” His calm voice simmered with menace. “Step away. Now.”
Hugo raised his hands and stepped several paces back. Best to play along and explain after.
Satisfied with Hugo’s distance, he knelt beside J-Tom. “Jennifer?” Michelman placed two fingers on her neck to find a pulse.
Then he rushed to his daughter’s side. “What did you do?” He’d already branded Hugo guilty.
Hugo caught himself before answering angrily and assessed the scene. Him, tall and brawny, standing over two unconscious girls. Not a good look.
He smothered the anger and spoke. “Spencer attacked us. I stopped her.”
By Michelman’s glare, he didn’t buy it. “Why? She loves you and Jen more than anyone.”
Except herself. “She attacked
us with her powers,” Hugo explained. “Paxton-Brandt unlocked them, Dr. Michelman….” He paused. “Sorry…December.”
The color drained from Michelman’s face. "Spence told you?" He sized Hugo up, clearly assessing him as a threat. Ms. Ortiz had taught Hugo something similar. “Love has made her stupid.” He shook his head. “But she was correct in her suspicions about your powers.”
Hugo didn’t hide his horror. Two Paxton-Brandt employees now knew his secret. Fuck!
“Tell you what, Hugo.” Michelman crouched beside his daughter again. The worry on his face showed his parental concern. Did Spencer lie about that relationship, too? “I’ll keep your secrets as long as you keep my family’s. And you can leave with Ms. Thomas.”
Hugo saw no downside there. Michelman had way more to lose. “Deal.” He walked toward J-Tom, tossing her over his shoulder. She weighed practically nothing. Hugo waited.
“Deactivate Security Protocol,” Michelman ordered. Immediately, the background hum ceased. Hugo sighed in relief.
“Don’t ever come back,” Michelman ordered with sharp loathing.
The ejection stabbed Hugo through the heart. I’ll never see Spencer again.
Hugo contained his crumbling heart and nodded. He turned and departed the penthouse at top speeds.
Hugo reached the old Liberty High location within a few minutes. It was the only safe place he could think of to take J-Tom. The area was abandoned, other than a teen couple inside the main building screwing.
He strode to the bleachers around the old splintered track field, his favorite spot to reflect and let nature flood his senses. As soon as he placed J-Tom on a seat, her breathing shifted and she slowly roused. Hugo felt more gratitude than he could bear.
J-Tom stared with puffy, unfocused eyes, then recoiled. “Hugo?” she slurred.
“Jen,” Hugo replied with a genuine smile. “Thank God.” One ray of sunshine on this awful day. He kept a wide berth from Jen out of respect. But he cradled the small of her back to keep her from slumping over. “How do you feel?”
J-Tom rubbed the back of her neck. “Achy.” She straightened and looked around with palpable fear. “Where’s Spencer? Where am I? How are you here?” Her questions tumbled out rapidly.
Hugo sat beside her on the bleacher. “You’re safe,” he assured. “Spencer can’t hurt you anymore.”
By J-Tom's trembling, she didn't feel safe. “Spence has powers, Hugo,” she hissed, sounding both awed and disbelieving. “She electrocuted me. Felt like my bones were on fire.” J-Tom shivered, reliving the attack.
Hugo drew J-Tom into a hug to calm her. And himself. It helped. “What happened?”
J-Tom pulled back, more relaxed. “Spence and I were supposed to see the Goto Girls concert for my birthday. Before we left, I tried convincing her to quit Paxton-Brandt.” Her eyes darted around, paranoid and bulging. “I’ve researched some horrid experiments they’d done in Amarantha. But then she showed me why she kept working for them.”
“I saw too,” Hugo admitted, his soul feeling such heaviness. “She’s too far gone.”
J-Tom’s visible heartbreak scorched through Hugo. “How did we escape? And your clothes!” Her gaze wandered down his ruined shirt. She poked at exposed, rock-hard muscle and looked up in befuddlement. “You’re not hurt?”
“Jen…” Hugo hastily concocted a cover story. Kind of weak, but enough to convince J-Tom.
He opened his mouth, and the weight of everything landed.
Losing Abby and Jordana.
Zelda and Lady Liberty.
The Vanguard fight.
The truth about Brie.
Losing Spencer. All the lies and secrets in between.
Hugo couldn’t muster up another lie.
He grasped J-Tom's shoulders, strangely at peace. You’re actually doing this…
She turned pink under Hugo’s gaze as he spoke. “I have to tell you something about Spencer…and me.”
Chapter 36
Boyd sat glued to his computer screen. In the tiny Spotlight team room, Pablo, Maureen, and Lenny gathered around the computer with him. Quinn watched their reactions after showing the video of the Titan clone attacking Geist’s team. Of course, she paused before Geist had been killed. No need to set off another news firestorm about the Midnight Son’s demise.
“That’s it!” Pablo gestured feverishly. “This has to be the tip of the spear!”
Maureen and Lenny vociferously agreed.
“We’re adding that, QB!” Boyd declared. “With a full writeup of your source’s findings at Paxton-Brandt’s Shandon plant.” Skepticism still dominated his lined face. “Not sure if that’ll change our status.”
Quinn dismissed the concern with a hand chop. “Helena agrees this will grab the most eyes.”
That turned everyone’s head. Helena had been out sick for two days. Only Quinn and Doyle knew why.
“You spoke with her?” Boyd inquired brusquely.
Quinn nodded. “Last night. Helena just wants to give everything one more readthrough tonight.” Quinn was bubbling with excitement. Despite the long, hard road to reach this point, she couldn’t wait to finally showcase Paxton-Brandt’s crimes.
Lenny and Pablo hugged. Boyd clapped. “Love it. I’ll contact her now.”
“Fucking hell!” Maureen erupted.
Quinn started. Everyone turned. Maureen was glaring at her cell. “Tomorrow Man’s gone full famewhore with this Vanguard mess.” She held up whatever offensive video played on her phone.
Quinn’s chipper mood plummeted. Onscreen was Tomorrow Man in his ugly orange-and-black costume with his goofy-looking cape. The blond, blue-eyed pretty boy oozed old-school Americana in another interview with Quinn’s nemesis, Rebecca Reyes. Both were still clawing for relevancy. “Like everyone across the world,” he spoke in that rehearsed baritone, “I’m disappointed by The Vanguard’s conduct. Especially Sentinel.” Tomorrow Man’s handsome face soured. “I sympathize with him. But beating up Blur and nearly killing that reporter? Deplorable!”
Onscreen, Rebecca Reyes sneered when he said ‘that reporter’. Quinn was surprised the veteran could express any emotion after more obvious cosmetic work. “Between Titan’s misconduct, Seraph’s affair, Sentinel and Vulcan’s violence,” Reyes said, “should The Vanguard disband?”
Tomorrow Man shook his head. “But Sentinel, Vulcan, and Seraph must resign.” This sentiment had been echoed across the public and superhero community. “Vanguard needs members worthy of its legacy.” He gave the camera a lingering stare. Jesus…
“Absolutely,” Reyes added. “Now onto this mysterious Hood who saved Blur—”
To Quinn’s dismay, Maureen closed the video before they discussed Hugo. “Can you believe that pretentious clown?”
“Which one?” Quinn snarked, already bored of Tomorrow Man. More concerning was the attention still on Hugo after five days. Rebecca Reyes sniffing around was problematic.
I’ll remind Hugo to be careful. On the way back to her desk, a new work email seized her attention with a death grip.
Leslie Prentiss, Editorial’s HR rep, requesting a meeting in five minutes. Quinn went numb. The last time she’d met with Leslie had been to finalize a new contract. Before that, when she’d been briefly fired. Quinn contained her anxieties and left for the HR department.
Leslie brightened as Quinn entered her spacious office, well-dressed in a dark-purple pantsuit with her black hair up in a twist. “Good afternoon!” she gushed.
Quinn offered a taut smile and nothing more. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s no trouble,” Leslie stated. “I only need five minutes.” She nodded to the chair before her desk.
Quinn did as requested. Her gaze never left Leslie. “Okay.”
The HR rep clasped her hands, wearing a mask of concern. “There have been complaints over Helena Madden's conduct of late."
Quinn bristled. This had Jono’s grubby fingerprints all over it. “The sexual harassment claim is a s
mear job,” she growled. “By a putrid fraction of a man.” An overshare, but the truth.
Leslie gaped a moment before regaining that irksome perkiness. “This isn’t about that.”
Quinn swallowed painfully. “Oh.”
Leslie reclined in her seat. “Did she ask any of our interns to buy prescription drugs?”
Quinn fought the surprise off her face. That question was way too specific. Doyle talked. The room temperature spiked. “I never witnessed that.”
“Did you know of Helena asking an intern to buy her prescription drugs?”
Motherfrakker! Quinn’s mind lurched between protecting Helena and being honest. The former choice would damage her reputation since Leslie had already spoken to Doyle.
“Yes,” Quinn muttered, staring down in shame. “I knew.”
Leslie nodded, taking no pleasure in this. “Have you seen her under the influence at work?”
Quinn squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Flashes of Helena popping pills in front of her surfaced, or being so high she couldn’t drive. There was no way for Quinn to protect her mentor without lying. “Yes,” she admitted grudgingly.
Leslie offered a sympathetic smile. “Thanks, Quinn. I’ll contact you if HR has any follow-up questions.”
As soon as Quinn left Leslie’s office, she went hunting for Doyle. Had Jono or Packer blackmailed the intern? Yet according to Doyle’s supervisor, she was out sick. Coincidence or conspiracy? Helena’s fate consumed Quinn’s thoughts, rendering her useless for the rest of the day.
After getting off work, she beelined to Helena’s house and confessed.
Yet, the editor-in-chief already knew of the investigation. “I spoke with Hamilton Cross an hour ago,” she revealed calmly. “I’m finished at SLOCO Daily.”
Quinn heard but couldn't believe. They sat in Helena's backyard watching the sun vanish into the horizon. The editor-in-chief wore a Harvard t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms, dirty-blonde hair in a messy bun. Her eyes were puffy from crying.
It took a few moments for Quinn to find her voice. “Don’t say that. There has to be a way out.”
Helena’s smile was sad and brittle. “I searched. Packer must’ve gotten to Cross after I told them about his sponsorship scheme.”