Powerless (11 page)

He smirks. “I can shield the house.”

I look around at the destruction in my kitchen and have to admit, “I don’t feel safe here.”

“Then we’ll go somewhere else.” Rebel wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Somewhere no one expects us to be,” Jeremy offers.

The guys’ house is out, because if my house is bugged, then surely the home of the head villain is also being watched. And Rebel’s house is no good for obvious reasons.

Jeremy adds, “If it’s outside, that would be even better.”

“There’s a park,” I suggest. “About a half mile from here.”

Dante pulls out his keys, ready to drive.

“We should walk,” Jeremy and I say at the same time.

Draven scowls, and Dante shoves his keys back into his pocket. If my house had that many bugs, I don’t even want to think about what kind of tracking devices might be in our cars. And we need Jeremy’s focus on something other than keeping eavesdroppers out of our business—like figuring out how to break into one of the most secure facilities in the world.

Ten minutes later, we’re settling at a picnic table in the park. As far as war rooms go, it’s not great, but any port in a storm and all that…

I pass around the six-pack of soda I pulled from the broken fridge and a bag of chocolate chip cookies from my secret stash. I can’t remember the last time I ate.

Jeremy settles his backpack on the table and pulls out his laptop. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, revealing a T-shirt that says
There’s no place like 127.0.0.1.

Draven and Dante exchange a WTF look.

I don’t get it either. Jeremy has an odd sense of humor. But he’s a freaking computer wizard. Only a couple of minutes pass before he’s got a schematic of the lab, which is a million times more detailed than the one I drew on the whiteboard in my garage.

It’s multilayered, like blueprints, including everything from the ductwork to tech and security wiring. We crowd around him, even Dante and Draven forgetting their distrust long enough to pore over the plans.

“This is too complicated to read,” I say after a minute. “How do you even know what we’re looking at?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time studying the lab schematics and security systems over the years. I memorized the layers.”

“Why?” Dante demands, suspicious again. “Did
you
have a reason to break in?”

Jeremy tsks. “Are you kidding me? Do you know the kind of experiments that go on in that lab? Irradiating rabbits to give them cognitive thought? Weather bombs? Bacteria that can realign the Earth’s tectonic plates? With shit like that going down, I want to be ready to act. It pays to know the best ways in—and out.”

“So what
is
the best way in?” I demand, cutting a glare at Dante. Are they
trying
to send him off on a rant?

“That depends where you want to go.” He spends another minute or so clicking on the screen, and suddenly the multilayered diagram disappears. In its place is one very detailed schematic, with every entrance, exit, window, and air duct clearly delineated.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Dante crows, clapping Jeremy on the back. I swear, I don’t know what it is about guys that makes them ready to beat each other’s brains out one minute and be best friends the next.

“We need to get to sub-level three,” I tell him.

“Ah, sub-level three: the holy grail of League supersecrecy.” He cracks his knuckles. “I’ve searched everywhere for blueprints, a diagram, anything that remotely confirms the secret sub-level exists.”

“Oh, it exists,” I reply.

He turns to me, eyes wide. “How do you know? Where did you get definitive proof?”

“I’ve been there. Is that enough proof?”

Without answering, Jeremy turns back to his computer and punches a few more keys, calling up a blank schematic in the general shape of the lab. “Tell me everything you can remember.”

“Do we really have time for this?” Rebel demands.

“If you want to get into a level so well-protected that there is absolutely no sign of its existence on the freaking Internet
or
League intranet, then yes, it’s necessary,” Jeremy all but shouts. “I need as many details as you can remember, and then…”

“And then what?”

“Then I’ll check it against the new security protocols and try to extrapolate what measures they’re using to protect this level.”

“Extrapolate?” Draven barks. “You mean, you’re going to guess?”

Jeremy smiles at him over his laptop screen. “Pretty much.”

“My cousin’s life is on the line, and you’re going to make
guesses
about how to get him out?” Draven looks like he’s ready to kill something.

Not that I blame him. None of us knows how long Deacon can last.

Jeremy shrugs and reaches into his backpack for a bag of sour gummy worms. “Good thing for you I’m a good guesser,” he says as he pops a handful in his mouth.

Rebel has absolutely no tolerance for listening to Jeremy spout a stream of nonstop computer tech-speak, interspersed with the occasional conspiracy theory. Neither do I. Which is why when she starts for the paved path that winds a circle through the park, I follow her.

Well, that and I’ve been waiting to get her alone.

“We need to talk,” I say as I catch up with her.

“Can you save the lecture for another night?”

“It’s not a lecture,” I tell her. “I just… I’m worried about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” She twists her head, cracking her neck.

She doesn’t get it. She’s my best friend. I’m
always
worried about her.

“Reb, are you sure about Dante?” I ask after a second. “What if he’s just using you to gain access to the heroes? To get insider information they can use against us?”

Her spine stiffens. In that moment she looks exactly like her dad. “I’m sure.”

“It’s just…” I don’t know how to say this without totally setting her off. But it’s important, so I take my chances. “It seems really…convenient that the son of the villain leader is interested in the daughter of the president of the League.”

She lets out a sharp breath, and for the first time I can see the cracks in her strong façade. The stress and strain are wearing on her. I don’t want to add to the burden, but I have to be sure.

“Dante doesn’t care about any of that,” she insists. “He loves me.
Me
,” she repeats. “Not what I can do for him, not who my father is, but
me
. Do you know how hard that is to find in the superhero world?”

“But how can you be sure?” I ask. “If heroes are really doing these horrible things—”

She cuts me off with a disbelieving glare. “If?”

“Okay, they are. But if they’ve been at this for decades like Draven says, don’t you think it’s possible that Dante looked at you and saw access, not a smart, cool girl he wanted to hang out with?”

She clenches her jaw and increases her speed. I have to double my pace to keep up.

God, I feel like an ass, but someone needs to look out for her. “I’m sorry, Reb, but you have to admit it’s a pretty big coincidence.”

“He didn’t know,” she blurts. “When we met, he had no idea I was even a super, let alone a hero.”

I want to believe her. Really, I do. I mean, Dante doesn’t seem like a bad guy, but he’s a villain. And villains always have an ulterior motive.

“You can’t know that,” I argue. “He could have—”

She stops abruptly, her blue eyes flashing. “I went after him, okay? I covered my hero mark and went to the Lair looking for someone who knew as well as I did that heroes were hypocrites. I didn’t want to be alone in this anymore.
I’m
the one who wanted access.”

“The Lair?” I echo.

A notorious villain nightclub, the Lair has a reputation for epic brawls and SHPD raids. The club’s surrounded by enough protections—including an invisibility shield—that an ordinary like me couldn’t even see it unless they already knew where to look. It’s bad news.

The idea that Rebel not only went there, but went looking to hook up with a villain… If I’d known, I’d have had a heart attack.

“You went alone?” I whisper.

She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “He assumed I was a villain, and I let him believe it for a few weeks. I didn’t tell him the truth until I was sure of him.”

I stare at my best friend. She is full of secrets. I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or terrified. I can’t even keep the tiniest secrets from her.

“So, no,” she says, getting back to my original question, “Dante isn’t using me. If anything, I was using him.”

Without waiting for me to respond, she strides down the path.

I’m not sure if this revelation makes me trust Dante any more or Rebel any less. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Either way, I’m ashamed to find out that my best friend felt so alone she had to seek out a villain to make her feel whole, and I was clueless. Dante seems like a decent guy, but what if she’d found someone else? Someone dangerous.

Despite all the secrets and deception, she’s still my best friend. Whether I believe Dante’s innocent or not, for now we’re all on the same team. And that means Rebel and I have one more thing to talk about.

I catch up with her, and when we’re shielded from view behind a stand of trees, I grab Rebel by the elbow and pull her to a stop. “Listen,” I say, “the guys can’t go in with us.”

Rebel rolls her eyes. “Try telling them that.”

“Seriously Reb. You heard Jeremy. That villain signature sensor is serious business. If they get within fifty yards of the lab, it’ll set off every alarm on campus. We’ll all be toast. Including Deacon and maybe my mom.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” she asks. “They’re not exactly in a reasonable mood. Am I supposed to levitate them onto a roof or something?”

I shake my head. “They’d find a way down.”

“You’re right.” She lets out a little laugh. “Dante loves to use his wind to fly.”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes.
Boys.

“We’d almost have to lock them in somewhere,” I say, thinking out loud. “Somewhere they couldn’t get out of. Somewhere safe.”

I run through all the possibilities I can think of. My house, clearly out. So is anyone else’s. I would love to see traditional stud-and-siding construction hold Draven and Dante for more than an instant.

“The vault in the lab would be perfect,” I muse. “Except for the fact that it’s
in
the
lab
and Nitro blew its hinges to bits last night.”

“Right,” she says with a snort. Then, “Wait. That’s it!”

“That’s what? Those are two big reasons why we
can’t
use the vault.”

“Not the vault,” she says, a smug smile spreading across her face. “Nitro.”

As
if
that
makes
more
sense?

“Follow my lead.”

I hardly have a choice when she grabs me by the wrist and drags me back to the picnic table.

• • •

“Are you sure this is going to work?” I whisper as Jeremy pulls his van into the crowded parking lot.

She nods. Then pokes Jeremy in the ribs.

“Yeah,” he says too loudly, “six gallons ought to do it.”

“Tell me again why we need cranberry juice?” Draven asks.

Jeremy swallows. “The, um, acid will corrode the, um, sensors in the villain signature readers.”

Rebel gives him a death glare. He doesn’t need me to translate that it means,
Way to sell it, moron
.

“Whatever, man.” Dante shakes his head before climbing out of the van. “Let’s get this and get going.”

Draven jumps out after him.

I exchange a nervous look with Rebel, and then we follow the boys into the Lair.

Inside, it’s everything I’d always imagined a villain nightclub would look like in the wee hours of a Saturday morning. Dark, crowded, and full of pounding music and flashing lights. And leather. Lots and lots of black leather.

It’s like hero nightclubs, to be honest (sans the leather), but it
feels
more dangerous.

We weave our way through the crowd to the bar, where Draven and Dante exchange nods with a huge bouncer-looking dude pouring vodka shots. A massive tattoo of a desert-like landscape broken with jagged cracks and steaming fissures covers his shoulder and upper arm. Everyone in the super world knows that tattoo and the badder-than-badass villain it belongs to. Nitro’s brother, Quake.

I shiver and grab Rebel’s hand.

Then the boys are pushing through a door that leads to a brightly lit back room. Compared to the flashing lights in the club, the fluorescent lighting is like stepping into a sunny day on the beach. This commercial kitchen serves up the bar food for the hungry villains out there dancing the night away.

“Oi, I didn’t know you lot were coming around tonight,” Nitro calls out when he sees the guys. His gaze flicks to Rebel, not betraying any hint of the hushed phone call she had with him less than an hour ago. When he sees me, his façade almost falters. But instead of asking, “Why is the chick who tossed a fire extinguisher at my skull here?” he simply says, “And you brought a pair of pretty birds with you too.”

“We need a few things,” Draven says cryptically. “Okay if we raid your fridge?”

Nitro shrugs. “Fine by me.”

Draven yanks open the door of the giant walk-in refrigerator. The inside is lined with wire shelves loaded with produce, packages of meat, and giant containers of juices, sauces, and salsas. Rebel and I hang back as the guys head for the giant jugs of cranberry juice.

Rebel hesitates as Draven pulls the scarlet juice from the shelf.

“Do it now,” I whisper.

She doesn’t move, but Draven does. He whips around, eyes narrowed. Guilt must be written on our faces because he drops the juice, sprinting for the door. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Dante will be close behind. I spring to action, swinging the door closed myself.

“Rebel!” Dante yells.

“I’m sorry!” she shouts back as the door clicks shut.

“Now, Nitro!” I throw all of my weight against the door, holding the handle so they can’t release the catch from the inside. It won’t hold back two furious villains for long, but hopefully it will give the flamethrower enough time to create a seal.

Nitro already has a bright green fireball burning between his palms. I dodge left as it comes flying toward me. The ball barely misses me and connects with the door handle. There is a sizzling sound of metal melting and then nothing but the soft thud of fists pounding against the door from inside the fridge.

“Hey,” I complain, examining my elbow. Nitro’s latest got closer than I thought. “You hit me.”

His mouth quirks into an angry smirk. “And here I thought my aim was downright heroic. Saved the day, didn’t I?”

I’m about ready to snap back, but Rebel’s soft voice stops me.

“You can get them out, right?” she asks him. “When we’re done?”

Nitro’s antagonism melts away. He squeezes Rebel’s shoulder. “Without a doubt.”

“They’re going to be so pissed,” she says, looking a little sick at the thought.

I nod. “And cold. The faster we get back here, the better.”

“I’ll stay with them,” Nitro tells Rebel. “Don’t you worry.”

She pulls him into one of her signature Rebel hugs and I laugh as his eyes bug out. Even villains aren’t immune to her suffocating displays of affection.

“Come on,” I say, taking her by the hand. “Let’s do this.”