Authors: Jennifer Estep
9
For a moment, I thought my luck had gone completely haywire. That I’d somehow, some way shattered the glass roof hundreds of feet above our heads. That was quite an accomplishment, even for me. Then, luck or not, my sense of self-preservation kicked in. I screamed and dove out of the way of the falling shards, sliding across the smooth floor. My power kicked in of its own accord, as it so often did, and the static field propelled me farther than I could have ever gotten on my own.
Of course, I couldn’t get clear of all of it. I was lucky, not indestructible. I threw my arms over my head, even as bits and pieces of glass sliced into my skin. My blood spattered scarlet against the white floor, reminding me of the red rose on Debonair’s costume.
Thinking of Debonair, I didn’t hear him
pop!
out of the way, but he must have, because the sweet smell of roses filled my nose, making my head swim. Well, that and the blood loss.
The tinkling rain of glass stopped, replaced by the museum’s ringing alarms and a faint,
whooshing
sound, like I had water in my ears. I looked up. A shadow fell over the sapphire, and a muscular man in a gray spandex suit glided to a stop in the middle of the museum. He was enormous—seven feet tall and almost as wide with biceps bigger than my waist. A gray cowl covered his hair, while a black mask obscured his face. A variety of odd items, including what looked like grenades, hung off the silver utility belt around his waist. It too was big—larger and thicker than my arm.
This was how I got my first look at Hangman, one of Bigtime’s preeminent ubervillains. Unlike the Fearless Five, Hangman didn’t hang around with other ubervillains. He didn’t have to. With his ability to fly, superstrength, and gadget-filled belt, Hangman was an army all by himself. Which was why he hired himself out as a contract assassin, enforcer, and all-around bad guy. If you wanted someone dead, mangled, or beaten to a bloody pulp, especially someone with superpowers, Hangman was your guy.
So what was he doing at the museum? What was he after? There were all sorts of paintings and statues here that would tempt even the richest—
The ubervillain drew back his hand and drove his massive fist through the glass case housing the Star Sapphire. I should have guessed. I closed my eyes. Should have known. Hangman stealing Berkley’s sapphire and who knew what else from the exhibit. Yep, my jinx was definitely working overtime. Although I supposed I should be grateful he’d at least waited until the opening was over.
Right now, though, I had more important things to worry about. Like getting out of the room alive. My father had died at the hands of an ubervillain. I had no desire to repeat his fate—especially not at the tender age of thirty. Grandfather had already outlived his only child. It would be a shame for him to outlive me too.
I rose to my knees, trying not to dig my hands into the supposedly shatterproof, bulletproof, ubervillainproof glass surrounding me like a glittering crystal carpet. Superhearing must have been another one of Hangman’s powers because his head snapped in my direction.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled, reaching for one of the strange-looking grenades on his belt.
I froze. Panic filled my body. If he threw that, there wouldn’t be enough of me left to put into a spoon—just like my father. I was about to die exactly the way he had, despite all the precautions I’d taken to stay as far away from ubervillains as possible. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
POP!
Debonair teleported in front of me and glanced over his shoulder. Once he saw I was more or less in one piece, he leaned against one of the Greek columns like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Hey, Hangman. How’s it hanging?” Debonair’s voice was low and smooth, but there was a hard, slightly mocking edge to it. “I haven’t seen you flying around the city much these days. Still upset I clipped the wings off that missile launcher Violet Crush paid you to set up?”
“Not as upset as you’re going to be when I get through with you, runt,” Hangman snarled.
The ubervillain’s hands hovered over his grenades like he was some gunslinger from the Old West. Debonair just smirked.
Every hero had his villain, and Hangman was Debonair’s. They’d been battling each other for years. In fact, theirs was the preeminent duel in Bigtime, since the Fearless Five had taken out the Terrible Triad. About a month ago, Debonair and Hangman had made news after one of their battles spilled over into Paradise Park. Another ubervillain, Violet Crush, had hired Hangman to set off some sort of horrible device to blackmail the city into naming a street after her. Or some such nonsense. Debonair had intervened, and the usual round of fistfights, explosions, and daring escapes had ensued. I remembered because Grandfather had made me watch it on SNN with him.
Debonair relaxed even more, as though he couldn’t care less that he was standing in an angry ubervillain’s line of fire. “If you’re going to do something, then do it. Because your conversation bores me.”
Hangman’s fingers fluttered over his grenades, ready to draw down on Debonair.
“Stop right now! Both of you!” another voice rang out.
Striker stormed into the room, followed by Karma Girl, Hermit, and Mr. Sage. Black, silver, more black, green. They formed a colorful line in their costumes, cutting off the front door. The Fearless Five—well, four of them—had finally arrived. For once, I was glad to see them.
Hangman cursed. His hand flew to his waist, and he hurled a grenade at the four superheroes, taking them by surprise.
My eyes widened. We were going to die. In about ten seconds. Not to mention all the priceless works of art around us. If that thing went off, the whole room would go up in flames. All the
Whimsical Wonders
would be reduced to smithereens. Not to mention the Monets, the Renoirs, and the Van Goghs in the upstairs galleries. They’d be destroyed too. I didn’t know which was worse—us dying or the art being obliterated.
I shouldn’t have worried, though. Mr. Sage used his telekinesis to stop the grenade in midair and launch it back at the ubervillain.
“No! Not at him!” I pointed up to the blasted-out ceiling. “Throw it up there! Now!”
I didn’t know if Mr. Sage heard me or not, or if my luck finally decided to cooperate with my will, but the grenade veered upward, sailing toward the massive hole in the ceiling.
Just before the grenade cleared the roof, it exploded. Fire roared out from the small device, filling the room with thick, black smoke. The shock from the explosion tossed me back, thankfully away from most of the broken glass on the floor. I slammed into a life-size statue of Han Solo made out of toothpicks and bounced off. The statue swayed, but it didn’t break. The Force really was with Han tonight.
Me too. Everything went dark for a second, before my vision snapped back into focus. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind. Somehow, I got to my feet and started forward. I couldn’t see the door, though. I couldn’t see much of anything except the smoke blanketing the room.
Something soft and gooey touched my arm. I screamed and jumped back before I realized it was snowing. Well, not exactly snowing, but white foam flew through the air like tiny flakes. The explosion must have set off the museum’s fire alarm system. Although I couldn’t see them, I knew sprinklers had popped out from their hiding places in the marble walls. That was where the foam was coming from. It was a special kind of fire-retardant chemical that could be wiped off paintings and other artwork without leaving any stains behind. Practically all the businesses in Bigtime featured some sort of similar system. Most of the homes too. They had to, if they wanted to survive any kind of superhero-ubervillain battle.
The white foam also had the effect of dissipating the smoke. I waved my hand in front of my face, helping it along. After about ten seconds, my eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I spotted the others. Debonair and Hangman stood next to the sapphire, grappling with each other, while Striker, Mr. Sage, and Hermit hovered around them.
A shrill, creaking sound caught my ear, and I looked up.
A chunk of debris broke loose from the ceiling and headed for the pedestal holding the Star Sapphire. My eyes widened, and I felt my power discharge. A second before the debris made impact, the pedestal tipped over, and the gem slid across the floor, landing at the feet of a mermaid statue. Hangman cursed and scrambled toward it.
POP!
Debonair beat him to it. The thief reached for the stone, but Hangman crashed into him just before he picked it up. The two of them rolled around on the floor, bouncing off statues, walls, and anything else in their way.
A hand grabbed my arm. I turned and screamed, right into Karma Girl’s face.
“Are you all right, Bella?” Karma Girl asked, her eyes glowing neon blue.
I nodded. “I’m fine. Just a few cuts and bruises. But you guys have to take out Hangman before he gets the gem—and destroys any more of the museum.”
“We’ll handle it. You need to get out of here.” She pointed me toward the door.
I nodded and staggered toward the archway, happy to comply. Unlike my grandfather and brother, I had no desire to trade punches with evildoers. At that moment, all I wanted to do was pretend like tonight had never happened.
Except for my kiss with Debonair. That was definitely worth remembering, even if the man was a thief and a blatant lothario. Who knew? Maybe I’d splurge and buy his video game.
I shook my head and made a mental note to stop at the emergency room on the way home. Because I definitely had to have a concussion to be thinking about how sexy Debonair was at a time like this.
Another explosion ripped through the room, sending rubble and glass everywhere. My power flared, but it didn’t throw me forward or backward or sideways. Instead, for some reason, my foot lurched forward.
A moment later, the Star Sapphire skidded across the floor and stopped at my shoe. The shimmering blue facets caught what little light there was, reflecting it into my face. Mesmerized, I picked up the heavy gem.
My power pulsed again, and I ducked. Striker flew past me, slamming into the wall. His head snapped against the hard marble, and he slumped to the ground and didn’t get up. I ran over to him and put my finger against his throat. His pulse thumped steady and strong. As I looked at the superhero, a nasty cut over his right eye sewed itself shut. An instant later, you couldn’t tell he’d been injured at all. It was a good thing Striker regenerated. He’d be all right in a minute or so.
I squinted, but I couldn’t see the other members of the Fearless Five through the blizzard of foam. What I did see was a very tall, very menacing figure. Hangman. Coming right at me. I barely had time to scramble to my feet before he was there.
“Give me that. Now,” Hangman snarled, drawing back his fist to punch me.
A blow from him would break my neck like a piñata. Even as I took a step back, I knew I couldn’t get out of the way in time. He was going to knock me into next week. Next month. Next year. This was going to hurt. A lot.
I was vaguely aware of Striker, or maybe it was Karma Girl, shouting something to me, but I was more concerned with the fist coming at my face to pay any attention.
Then, an arm wrapped around my waist, and the world disappeared.
10
Well, the world didn’t exactly disappear. It just sped by in a jumbled, mishmash of color and light and sound. It was like being in the world’s biggest kaleidoscope and roller coaster at the same time. I felt like my body was being pulled apart, even as the sights and sounds of Bigtime flashed before my eyes. The museum steps. Paradise Park. The marina.
Finally, things stayed still for longer than half a second. A cold, fall wind whipped around me, tossing my caramel-colored hair in my face. I clawed the frizzy mess out of my eyes so I could see, and my mouth dropped open. I teetered on a small metal platform. Empty space surrounded me, while cars crawled along a thousand feet beneath my trembling high heels.
The Skyline Bridge. We stood on top of the Skyline Bridge that spanned Bigtime Bay. No matter how unlucky and jinxed and jaded I was, this was not what I’d expected when I’d agreed to chair the museum benefit. So, I did what any sane woman would do under these circumstances.
I screamed.
“Quit struggling and be quiet. I’m teleporting us out of danger,” Debonair snapped in my ear. He wrapped his arm around my waist again before I could stop him. “We’ll be there in a minute.”
That
minute
involved trips to the top of the skyscraper that housed the
Exposé
, the women’s wear floor of Oodles o’ Stuff, and half a dozen other places. Debonair snapped his fingers, popping certain items off to wherever, before grabbing me and teleporting us on to our next destination. Debonair even poofed into Quicke’s long enough to get takeout. Takeout!
I screamed through most of it. I just couldn’t help myself. My power kept snapping and pulsing and crackling around my body, as thrown off by all this teleporting as I was. I couldn’t even see half the time, we moved so fast. Swifte had nothing on Debonair.
Finally, though, the world slowed into focus.
“Here we are. You’re safe now, Bella.” Debonair’s voice was gentler than it had been before.
“No more teleporting around the city?” I asked, my legs wobbling.
I tried to focus on Debonair’s face, but the room wouldn’t stop spinning. I felt like I was trapped in a giant hamster wheel. Going round and round with no end in sight.
“No more teleporting. At least not until I decide what to do with you—and the gem.”
I looked down. Even though I couldn’t see it all that well, I still clutched the Star Sapphire in my fist. I was surprised I’d managed to hold on to it this long. Debonair’s gloved hand closed around my wrist. My fingers tightened around the sapphire. I wasn’t losing it. Not now. Not after all of this.
Debonair sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Bella Bulluci? You haven’t left me with many choices.”
That sounded fairly ominous, even for the daughter of a sometime superhero. So, I did what any good damsel in distress would when faced with a strange man who’d just kidnapped her.
I fainted.
Sometime later, I woke. I snuggled my cheek deeper into the pillow under my head. It was large and fluffy and plump, just the way I liked. And the sheets were cool and slick against my skin—
Hold on. My eyes snapped open. I liked cotton sheets. Plain, sensible, sturdy cotton. Flannel in the wintertime. But sheets made of the finest, softest silk imaginable encased my body. I sat up, panicked.
And promptly sank down and rose back up like I was in a boat. I was lying in the middle of the biggest water bed I’d ever seen. One with black-and-scarlet-striped sheets.
I waited for the wave to subside and scooted over to the edge of the bed, determined to get out of the locomotion love nest. Something filmy brushed against my leg. I peeked under the covers and realized I was wearing a lacy scarlet teddy that just barely covered anything at all. Where was I? And why was I wearing something so trashy?
After a few seconds, it all came back to me.
Benefit. Museum. Debonair. Kiss. Hangman. Explosions. Teleporting.
Debonair.
I clutched the sheets up to my chest. My eyes darted around the room. Empty. He wasn’t here. Debonair wasn’t in here.
I took a deep breath, fought back my panic, and thought about things. Debonair hadn’t hurt me. He’d saved me from having my face smashed in by Hangman. Besides, Debonair was more of a lover than a fighter anyway. He probably wouldn’t kill me. More than likely, he’d try to seduce me. The teddy and water bed were proof enough of that.
After a few more breaths, I came the rest of the way back to my senses and scanned the area. It was large, sort of like a swanky loft. The bed, where I was, took up a good part of the left side of the room, while a black-and-white-plaid sofa flanked the opposite wall, along with four chairs and a love seat. A large ebony cabinet sitting against another wall looked like it held a television and other entertainment devices. A small, glass-topped table was tucked away in one corner, while watercolors of men and women in the throes of passion adorned the walls. Crimson roses clustered in crystal vases throughout the room, making it smell sweet and inviting. An open door on one side led to a bathroom. Through a glittering, beaded red curtain, I spotted what looked like a black granite tub sunk into the floor. Another door, closed, presumably led out to the real world.
I’d heard about this place. The Lair of Seduction. It had been profiled in countless men’s magazines. In addition to being a thief, Debonair also dispensed romance tips to lonely men and women in a variety of Bigtime publications. He was always particularly prominent around Valentine’s Day. I thought even SNN had given him his own half-hour show on V-Day this year, but I wasn’t sure. I tried to ignore superheroes and ubervillains whenever possible, as if by not thinking about them, they would go away. Now
that
would have been a useful superpower.
I was in Debonair’s Lair of Seduction wearing a silk teddy and a grimace. This was not how I wanted to start my day. If it was even day yet. Or still day.
There were no windows or clocks in the room, so I had no sense of time. Or where I could possibly be. In the city, in the country, on another planet. I could have been anywhere.
Another flash of scarlet caught my eye, and I spotted a robe that matched the teddy on one of the chairs near the bed. He’d left me a robe. Thank heavens. I might work out every day, but I definitely didn’t have a superhero’s hard body. Or even one that could pull off wearing a barely there teddy. I was too curvy in all the wrong places.
I surfed off the water bed, snatched up the robe, and wrapped it around my body. It didn’t cover up much more than the teddy did, but at least there wasn’t a draft
everywhere
anymore. My eyes fell to the floor, and I spotted a pair of kitten heels that matched the rest of my outrageous ensemble. Naturally.
Oh my. Debonair was certainly serious about keeping up his image. A teddy, a robe, and heels with feathers attached to them. I felt like I was in some cheesy porn movie. The fashion designer and wannabe artist in me shuddered, but I put on the shoes anyway. Debonair had style, all right; too bad it just wasn’t current. Or classy. Fiona, no doubt, would have loved this place.
Static surged around me. I stopped, not wanting to fall in the shoes.
POP!
Debonair teleported into the room and settled on the long sofa. Blue-black leather suit. Dark hair. Blue eyes. And a body that was too good to be true. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He really was handsome. Too handsome for his own good. For my own good. Because all I wanted to do at the moment was put my hand on his chest, right over the scarlet rose, and draw his lips down to mine.
Concussed. I was definitely concussed. Or perhaps I’d lost more blood than I’d thought—
“Did you sleep well?” Debonair asked, his voice as husky and sexy as ever.
“I wouldn’t call it sleeping. But yes, I feel a little better.” Except for this insane attraction that kept sweeping over me.
“Good.”
His eyes drifted over my body, taking in the flimsy robe and ridiculous shoes. Realizing how precariously close to naked I was, I clutched the robe tighter around my body. Debonair’s eyes flared, and the smell of roses intensified. I felt like a kitten caught high in a tree. One false move, and I’d plummet to my death. Or in this case, be ravished by a notorious rogue. And probably enjoy it a little too much.
He kept staring at me, evidently content to do that and nothing else. I tried not to teeter in the heels.
“Where’s the sapphire?” I asked, desperate to focus on something other than the fact that he kept looking at me like he was enjoying the sight very, very much.
Debonair jerked his head, and I spotted the sapphire sitting on the carpet near his feet.
“Why did you just leave it there?”
“For one, I had a hell of a time prying it out of your fingers. Then, when I did that, it kept slipping out of my grasp. That was as far as I got with it before I realized it didn’t want to leave your side. Or that you weren’t letting it out of your sight.” Debonair’s eyes held mine. “You’ll have to tell me how you do that, especially since you were unconscious at the time. I’m most curious.”
“I didn’t do anything. Maybe you were just being clumsy.”
“Darling Bella, I’m never, ever clumsy. No matter what I do. Or who I do it with.”
My breath caught in my throat. Kisses. Caresses. Long, slow strokes. All sorts of sensual things flashed through my head, and I stared at the floor to keep my eyes off the suggestive paintings on the walls.
I bit my lip to bring myself back to my senses. Debonair might dazzle the other women he brought here, but not me. I wasn’t going to succumb to his charm. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep with him—or any other superhero. There was too much heartache, too much worrying involved in superheroes. Even pseudo-superheroes like Debonair. And my father.
All I wanted to do was go home. Back to the Bulluci mansion, back to Grandfather, and back to my safe, calm, mostly superhero-free life.
“Can I go home now? Please?”
Debonair shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s out of the question, Bella. Not until I figure out a few things.”
“Like what?”
Debonair gestured at the jewel on the floor. “Like what Hangman wanted with that. He seemed most anxious to get it, taking on me and the Fearless Five at the same time. Usually, he’s smarter than that, loath as I am to admit it.”
He reached down. My power flared up, and the static arced out, not wanting the handsome thief to pick up the gem. Somehow, I managed to squash it. Debonair didn’t need to know about my power—or lack thereof. He might try to make me use it for his benefit. He wasn’t taking advantage of me any more than he already had.
Debonair’s hand closed around the sapphire, and he straightened. “It really is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”
“You have to give it back to the museum,” I protested. “It’s not yours. Neither is that painting you stole from Berkley.”
“Why should I give back the sapphire? Finders keepers, and all that.”
“Because the gem belongs to Berkley, and he loaned it to the museum so everyone could have a chance to enjoy it. Not just you.”
Debonair cocked his head to one side, staring at me as though he was seeing me for the very first time. “That’s an interesting theory, Bella.”
“It’s not a theory. It’s the truth. By hoarding the art you steal or whatever you do with it, you’re denying others the chance to enjoy its beauty. It’s criminal. It’s worse than whatever Hangman wanted to do with the sapphire.”
“Oh, I doubt that. Hangman is much fonder of killing people than I am.”
I gulped. That was true too.
Debonair tossed the sapphire in the air and caught it. Then, he turned to me. “So, what do you want, Bella?”
“What do you mean?”
He sauntered toward me. I tried not to notice how his muscles coiled and rippled with every step.
“Well, I like my guests, particularly my female guests, to feel at home. And you’re going to be here for a while, Bella. So, tell me, what is it you want right now?”
I want you to kiss me again. Kiss me like I’m the only woman in the world.
I must have really,
really
hit my head hard at the museum because, strangely enough, that was the first thing I thought of. But I pushed that silly fancy aside and moved on to more sensible matters. I wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity.
“I want some food and water, of course. I’m not picky. I want my dress and purse back. And I want to call my grandfather and tell him that I’m all right.”
“I think I can do a little better than just bread and water. But your dress was ruined beyond all repair, which is why you’re wearing that robe.”
I stared at the scarlet fabric. “You undressed me?” I cringed, thinking of love handles and stretch marks and cellulite, all of which I had in abundance.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t look.” Debonair winked. “Too much.”
Which meant he had seen my thunder thighs in all their huge glory. Wonderful.
He ticked off answers to the rest of my demands. “I’ll give you back the purse, but calling your grandfather is out of the question. There aren’t any phones in this room.”
I threw up my hands. “Well, can’t you just
pop!
one in like you do everything else?”
“I’m afraid not. Besides, I don’t even think they’ll work down here.”
Down here
. That meant I was probably underground or that the walls were excessively thick. It didn’t inspire me with a lot of confidence about my chances of escaping.
“You have to let me call him.” My panic bubbled back to the surface. “You have to.”
“No, I don’t.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand. My father was . . . he . . . he was killed earlier this year. He didn’t come home on time, but I . . . just thought he was wrapped up in a business deal or something. And then, we, um, got the news his body had been found. Or what was left of it. Ever since then, I’ve made it a point to check in with my grandfather every few hours. He’ll be worried sick, especially when he hears about what happened at the museum.”
Debonair studied me, his eyes tracing over my face. I didn’t want to beg, but I didn’t want Grandfather to worry. I didn’t want him to experience the same fear I’d had every night for so long.