The Pantheon Saga | Book 4 | Gods of Wrath

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The Pantheon Saga | Book 4 | Gods of Wrath Page 41

by Ekeke, C. C.


  “How goes your takeover?” Greyson said, closing the door.

  Hernando made a so-so face. “Still some holdouts,” he admitted, hands folded behind him. Like his father. “But most of the old territory is mine.”

  Greyson could taste a request following that answer. “What do you need?”

  Hernando stared down bashfully. His youth fleetingly bled through. “My brother’s and sister’s actions have inspired copycats.”

  Greyson frowned, glancing at Connie. “Your men can handle those, yea?”

  “These are superpowered copycats.”

  “Oh…” Greyson needed no further explanation…or motivation.

  Hernando sensed that, and continued. “I need your help.”

  Greyson already knew his answer. Yet, this decision was no longer his alone. He glanced back questioningly. Connie nodded.

  Reassured, Greyson turned back to Hernando. “Two conditions.”

  Hernando was surprised for a moment. “Name them.”

  “I get double the fee you paid for Diablo, each target,” Greyson mandated. “Directly to me.”

  Hernando arched an eyebrow and nodded. “And the second condition?”

  The next condition meant more. Even thinking of it made Greyson emotional. “Once I finish, we get reentry into America.” His manager had failed at this and been fired.

  There was a brief, taut moment before Hernando held out a hand. “Deal.”

  Connie squealed, hopping up and down.

  Greyson’s happiness soared. On the surface, he nodded and shook Hernando’s hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Chapter 56

  Hugo floated in cold, gooey oblivion for what felt like forever. He saw nothing, heard nothing, smelled nothing. Eventually, splinters of light cracked the darkness. The next thing Hugo knew, he was dragged toward the brightness like a magnet, the pitch-black washed away in waves...

  The abruptness jolted him out of slumber. He lay on his side in gloriously soft sheets. He looked around through bleary vision at a bedroom with warm-colored walls and a sumptuous ocean view. By the bullion sun's position, it looked like midafternoon.

  The peace was short-lived, a flood of memories bombarded him: Titan being his dad, Mom’s and Lady Liberty’s betrayals, Brie almost dying, The Elite—

  The Elite. Hugo sat up, greeted by stomach-twisting, head-to-toe pain. He sagged, breathing slowly to lessen the discomfort. It didn’t hurt as bad as after defeating Thor. He examined his naked self. Various nasty bruises decorated his muscular torso.

  Meaning…someone had seen his face. Hugo’s alertness spiked.

  “He wakes! Welcome back, big guy!”

  Hugo swiveled his head to the right. “Who…?”

  A slim, dark-skinned adolescent with cropped black hair sat beside Hugo's bed in a futuristic and golden wheelchair. His joyful eyes were brimming with intellect.

  “Ray-Ray?” Hugo coughed. Ramon Dempsey, formerly Dynamo, was the last person he’d expected to see. “What are you doing here?” He gave his room a warier inspection. “And where is here?”

  Ramon gestured about lazily. “My parents’ house that I bought…in Santa Maria.”

  Hugo’s relief was so profound he momentarily forgot his various body aches. Another memory surfaced in his fuzzy mind. “I was in downtown.”

  Ramon glanced at his lap. “After the V-Jet went down, I couldn’t stay on the sidelines.” He grinned. “So I un-retired for one night in armor I’d been dying to try and caught you before you fell.”

  Hugo smiled gratefully. “Thanks…How long was I out?”

  “A day and a half…”

  Hugo’s eyes popped. “Whaaa!” He must have been wrecked.

  Ramon waved off the concern. “You were in bad shape. But you’re almost one hundred percent thanks to whatever healing factor you got.” He beamed. “Four of Thor’s lightning strikes took down the entire Vanguard!” Ray watched him in awe. “You took eleven.”

  Hugo vividly remembered each bolt, the spine-scorching agony and… He pushed the trauma aside as fast as possible. “Wouldn’t recommend it.” Both boys laughed. “What about The Vanguard?”

  Ramon’s face collapsed.

  Hugo’s amusement died in his throat. “That bad?”

  Ramon leaned both elbows on his knees. “Very….” After recapping Lady Liberty and Vulcan's minor injuries, he revealed the other members' bleak statuses. “And Danneel…” He started tearing up. “Wyldcat got killed instantly.”

  “Jesus…” Hugo clasped Ray’s shoulder in condolence. The boy, a year younger, felt so breakable. Guilt weighed on the Samoan—ugh, half-Samoan—for not rescuing The Vanguard first. “Sorry for not freeing them—”

  “It was the right choice.” Ramon dismissed, wiping away tears. “Protecting the city first.”

  The gratitude was reassuring, but Hugo wasn’t fishing for verbal high-fives. “It was nothing.”

  Ramon went on. “Hugo...what you did was everything.” His eyes held such hope.

  Hugo hastily withdrew his hand. Thoughts and fears skipping through his mind like quicksilver. Defeating The Elite and saving downtown meant greater responsibility, exposure, and scrutiny. Hugo wanted none of that.

  “Clothes your size are at the foot of the bed.” Ramon backed his wheelchair up, smiling. “And ease off superspeed another day. I’ll have my driver take you home when you’re ready.”

  Home meant facing Mom, who had to be losing her mind with worry. Part of him longed to see his family. But the sting of his mother’s betrayal lingered. “Thanks," he muttered.

  Once Ramon exited, Hugo slid out of the bed gingerly. He tested his achy joints, stretching his legs before rounding the bed. A blue Vanguard-branded sweatshirt with matching sweatpants lay at the foot like Ramon had promised.

  After getting dressed, the door slid open. Geist entered in full costume. Hugo faced him in surprise. Seeing the Midnight Son before sunset was jarring. “Didn’t think you existed in daylight.”

  An almost untraceable chuckle caught Hugo’s ear. “We’re in a safe space,” Geist replied in his usual brusqueness.

  “Ha!” Hugo laughed, only to stop and cradle his spasming stomach.

  Geist's long onceover seemed dangerously close to impressed. “You did good, kid.”

  Hugo shied away from the praise. “There was no one else.”

  Geist moved closer. “A lot is going to change for you now.”

  Hugo looked up sharply, not liking that. “How?”

  Geist cocked his masked head. “Saving a major metropolitan area from a rogue threat. You’re the next big superhero.”

  Hugo clutched his skull, groaning. Media coverage of his fight must have been ginormous—and global.

  Geist watched him. “I know you didn't want this.” His voice sounded human almost.

  Hugo wanted to scream. He wanted to hide. Yet, battling The Elite had been exhilarating. Being a superhero was in his blood, literally.

  Geist pointed at him. “But don’t let Aegis consume Hugo Malalou.”

  Hugo was lost. “Huh?”

  “Your father…” the Midnight Son stated. “Being Titan twenty-four-seven slowly killed him long before Morningstar.” Geist reached back, undoing his mask. “Everyone taking a piece until nothing was left.”

  Hugo didn't want to digest what was about to happen. He moved on instinct to stop Geist. The vigilante waved him off, pulling off his black mask.

  Hugo felt like his brain was imploding. Geist’s face was unremarkable, not handsome or ugly, covered in long pale scars. His head was shaved almost bald, small hair patches missing. He had a cruel, taut mouth with thin lips. Even without his mask’s eye covers, Geist’s grey-eyed stare burned with penetrating intensity.

  Hugo remembered then to close his mouth.

  “Fifteen years ago...” Geist’s normal voice sounded reedy and hoarse without the voice modulator. “I had a career, friends, love. A name. I was someone. Until that was stolen. I
became this to get vengeance.” He stared at his mask with a cocktail of fatigue, hatred, and need. Like an addict. “The mission's now my life.” He lifted his head, looking upon his transfixed audience of one. “Putting on the mask and costume, it changes you. Don't let it become you. Protect who you are away from this life. Cherish it, your family, and friendships.”

  Hugo forced his brain to function, imagining life as only Aegis. Just the mission. No personal ties. No girl to love. The prospect gutted him so utterly his mind retreated from the notion. What was the point being a hero without connection? He nodded eagerly.

  When Geist put his mask back on, Hugo felt unspeakable relief.

  “By the way,” the vigilante continued in his familiar distorted growl. “The Elite could have been shut down through a brain implant. But someone disabled the off switches.”

  Hugo stared at him. What happened downtown could’ve been avoided? “Dr. Michelman.”

  Geist’s nod confirmed. Anger seared through Hugo. “Son of a bitch!” Clearly Spencer had got her rotten side from both parents.

  Geist’s mask displayed no features or emotions, but clear disgust oozed off him. “He wanted payback for Paxton-Brandt's experiments on his daughter.”

  Hugo was too livid to speak, clenching his fists to stop shaking.

  Geist raised a finger. “I gave Michelman proper…‘motivation’ to help us going forward.” He gestured toward the door.

  Hugo scanned beyond the bedroom with hypersensitive hearing. Ramon was in a common room speaking with two familiar voices. Hugo stiffened.

  Geist noticed, eyes narrowing. “You two have to talk eventually.” He opened the door, gesturing with more force.

  Hugo was about to object but realized that Geist was again right. With great resentment, he strode out the door, grumbling.

  The spacious living room, ultra-modern in design had pictures of Ramon with family and Vanguard members. The teen sat in his wheelchair before two guests on a couch. Therese Levesque cut a slender figure in a dark tee and jeans, neck-length hair tossed to one side. Seeing Hugo, she popped up.

  He gave her a firm hug as Ramon's guest rose more cautiously.

  Instead of the majestic Lady Liberty, she stood as just Betty Ortiz. She wore one of her silky caftan dresses, dirty-blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, .

  “You’re awake,” Ms. Ortiz began with effusive joy.

  Hugo glared at her. “Lady Liberty,” he remarked flatly. The room atmosphere became tense and joyless. Ms. Ortiz’s deception churned in Hugo’s guts like angry bees, making him question every part of their relationship.

  She approached with open arms. “How do you—?”

  Hugo pulled back. “Don’t.”

  Therese and Ramon eyed each other.

  Ms. Ortiz halted, visibly hurt. “You have every right to be angry—”

  “Thanks for your permission!” Hugo yelled over her. “It’s bad enough that my mom lied. But I trusted you with how I thought I’d gotten my powers.” His fury soared. “You lived down the block with my half-sister for years and forced her to lie, too!”

  Ms. Ortiz’s eyes fell. “I made mistakes—”

  “We’re done.” Hugo felt exhausted and disgusted. He turned to a clearly uncomfortable Ramon. “Take me home, please.”

  From the corner of his eye, Ms. Ortiz moved to approach.

  Geist caught her arm. “Let it go.” He locked eyes with Hugo. “Therese will take you home.”

  The archer smiled wanly. “I gotta get back to Quinn anyway.”

  The hour-long drive up to Paso in Therese’s G-Wagon took forever. Hugo was so used to superspeeding everywhere, anything under 200 mph felt slow. Therese updated him on the aftermath of his battling The Elite. The damage to downtown San Miguel would be in the billions. The Elite had been imprisoned at an OSA black site, charged with multiple felonies.

  “You shattered Samson’s ribs with that spear tackle!” Therese gushed, weaving through traffic.

  Also, Paxton-Brandt was facing boycotts, cancelled contracts, and federal inquiries over their experiments. That made Hugo obnoxiously glad.

  The sun had set once they reached Paso Robles, casting a deep-red glow. He stared at his house, welded to his seat. Hugo knew it was his address, yet it felt so foreign.

  Therese searched his face. “You gonna be okay?”

  Hugo shrugged. “Not sure.”

  The archer’s smile highlighted her understated beauty. “You were so brave facing The Elite.”

  “I was terrified,” Hugo answered genuinely. “I thought they were gonna kill me.” The battle and the emotions involved rushed back in waves.

  Therese’s eyes twinkled. “That’s why you were made for this.” She reached into the back seat, producing a package. “Ray-Ray cleaned up your suit.”

  Hugo stared blankly. He’d forgotten about that, so much on his mind. “Thanks.”

  Once Therese drove off, Hugo forced his leaden feet toward the house. There were three heartbeats inside. The door swung open before he could knock.

  “Bogie!” AJ launched himself at Hugo with a bearhug.

  His heart warmed at his brother’s embrace. He stepped inside and closed the door. “Hey, Junior.”

  Mom scurried from the kitchen, already in tears. “Bogota!” She stopped a few feet away. By the anxiety on her face, she was unsure how to approach.

  Hugo so wanted to stay angry. Then he recalled that overwhelming fear of death without fixing things with Mom, and Thor almost killing him. Heart cracking open, he beckoned her.

  Mom embraced her eldest son. Now she and AJ cried openly. Hugo didn’t weep, couldn’t. He just held his family, wanting to enjoy his family. That didn’t explain the third heartbeat upstairs.

  “You’re alive!”

  Hugo looked toward the stairwell. A shaggy-haired Korean boy barreled down to him. For a moment, Hugo thought he was hallucinating. “Simon? How are you here?”

  Simon Park stood before his best friend with arms spread. “Think I could stay in South Korea while you’re fighting baddies?”

  AJ and Mom stepped aside so Hugo could hug his best friend off the floor. “But your family—”

  “I’m technically not here,” Simon chided as Hugo put him down. His joy was infectious. “I kinda snuck out during the night and flew back to San Miguel. It was a full day’s travel, so I’ve had no sleep.” He grinned. “I texted them that I had girlfriend issues back here so…”

  Hugo didn’t trust himself to speak or else he’d lose it. He didn’t deserve a friend this ride-or-die loyal. Hugo embraced Simon again, drunk off the presence of this brother in everything but blood.

  “You boys grab Bogota something to eat and drink,” Mom asked when the two friends finally pulled apart. “I’m sure he’s famished.”

  Simon and AJ scurried to the kitchen.

  Once they were alone in the foyer, Mom turned to him, clearly wanting to talk.

  “I’m not ready,” Hugo stated, cutting her off. “When I am, I’ll tell you.”

  Mom nodded in pained understanding. Why spoil this reunion with such an ugly subject?

  She cradled his face. “When you were getting hit with lightning…I thought…” Mom quivered.

  Hugo couldn’t bear seeing her pain. “Me, too.” He wrapped her in his arms as she shook with silent sobs. To think he’d caused her and AJ such worry wasn't a pleasant feeling. And this won’t be the last time either. Hugo swallowed that bitter truth, holding Mom until she calmed. He had to tell Simon about Titan, but not tonight.

  As for AJ, maybe never…

  While scarfing down chicken nuggets, waffles, and eggs, he parked in the living room to tell his family where he’d been.

  After that, Mom retired upstairs while AJ and Simon filled him in on the craziness of his six-on-one battle. Simon eagerly showed YouTube videos with portions of the fight from a mix of news and independent drone footage. Hugo was baffled at first that the strapping costumed hero flinging The Eli
te like meat sacks was actually him. Lady Liberty’s training had saved his life, a bittersweet realization. His former mentor had recorded him in action and then played the footage afterward to work on similarities between how he moved as Hugo and as Aegis. Irked, Hugo smothered the memory.

  “I nearly threw a block party when you triple dragon punched Thor into next week!” Simon gushed.

  Hugo laughed. “That was more of a triple Tiger Uppercut,” he corrected, waggling his hands. Street Fighter video games were one of his specialties. “Cuz I backflipped on the descent.”

  “Let’s call it a mix of both,” Simon conceded.

  “My favorite was the supersonic spear!” AJ remarked.

  “I loved this part.” Simon played a clip of Hugo after he’d speared Vishnu. He looked barbaric, slashing a thumb across his own throat, letting out a roar that ripped through the air.

  Hugo was impressed. “Great sound effects.”

  Simon eyed him in bewilderment. “That’s all you, Big Uce.”

  Hugo narrowed his eyes. “No way!” But their solemn looks said otherwise. “Whoa.” Hugo slumped back in his seat. “I don’t remember yelling like that.”

  AJ glanced at Simon. “Really?”

  Hugo nodded. Everything had gone hazy around that part of the fight. “After Samson clocked me the second time?” Hugo shivered at how much Samson’s fists hurt. “Concussion city!”

  AJ winced in understanding. “Yeah, I thought he decapitated you both times.”

  Hugo made a face. “Sure felt like it.”

  Simon slapped his shoulder, briefly wincing. “BTW…when did ya learn to fly?” AJ perked up, eager for answers.

  Hugo grinned. “I didn’t.” He’d never got to relish defying gravity. “It just happened.”

  “That was obvious.” AJ snorted. “You had this WTF look after realizing you were flying.”

  Hugo aimed a playful swat at his brother, who dodged. “Shaddup, uso.” He turned to Simon, so grateful for his presence. “I got so much to catch you up on.” Like about Spencer… The pang of sadness returned. “Like how right you were.”

  “Of course, I was right,” Simon bragged. “About what?”

  Hugo had to chuckle. “Spencer Michelman. That girl is—” Familiar footsteps approaching from outside caught his ears.

 

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