Heroes Lost and Found (12 page)

Jessie came on the line. “In theory, if you had your gloves and jacket, you could do it.”

“And without?”

“It might be enough,” Jessie admitted. “But it’d take a lot out of you.”

“I can’t risk it. I can’t waste all my energy on Kit when there’s going to be one, maybe two rogue supers running amok along with Dykovski.” I hated saying it, but it wasn’t the time or place to lie to myself. “I’m not that strong.”

“You could try,” Hunter answered. “Jo, if he starts throwing fireballs at you again…”

I shook my head, forgetting they couldn’t see me. “I can’t get into a fight with Masters. I don’t want to fight him. Dykovski’s my target.”

Hunter let out a low whistle. “Just watch your back, girl. Kit Masters isn’t the same man we knew before New York City.”

“He’s still one of us.” I trotted up the steps. “He deserves the same chances we all got.”

The large wooden doors swung open, the brass handles smooth under my touch.

It smelled like history.

I inhaled musty old books, a trace of a woman’s perfume mixed in with some sloppy men’s thick gagging cologne, and a whiff of air freshener that increased as I approached the front desk.

There was no one there.

I wandered between the bookshelves. The evacuation order had obviously reached the library, the perfume and cologne scents left over from a rush to leave.

It took me a few moments to find the computer area. The row of fat bulky monitors sat on a large white table. The five plastic chairs lay empty. The loud whirring of hard drives grew louder as I pondered my approach.

I kept moving, weaving in and out of the stacks. “Jessie,” I whispered. “Any luck on telling me where Kit is?”

“Give me a second,” Jessie replied. “He’s…”

The air temperature beside me went up ten degrees.

“I’m right here.”

I jumped at least a foot in the air, doing my best impression of the Easter Bunny.

Kit stood in the aisle next to mine, his scarred face visible through a gap in the books. He looked at me with a blank, unemotional expression. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He still wore the stained shirt from our earlier confrontation, and his breath smelled of stale beer.

“It’s okay.” My pulse said otherwise, but I forced my breathing to slow. “First, please don’t attack me here in the library. It’s sort of a sacred place to me. If you want to fight, let’s go outside.” I tried to sound nonchalant while snatching up waves around us as fast as I could.

“Nah. I love this place.” He smiled, the scarred part struggling to keep up with the grin. “Smells like knowledge.”

“Knowledge is power.” I glanced at the generic clock mounted on a nearby wall. “Not that I wouldn’t like to stay here all day and exchange reading lists, but you just sent an email to Dykovski. What did you tell him?”

The waves shimmered between us, daring me to shoot first and ask questions later. I’d have no chance of taking him out, but I could try to draw him away from the town, away from Dykovski and Harris.

I flashed back to Cherries ’n’ Lemons. Lamarr hot on my heels. The cool forest replacing the dry heat of the desert.

The thunder as the mine collapsed on us.

A book fell over between us, a fat volume on chemistry. It rang on the thin metal shelves before settling.

I shuddered and hoped Kit hadn’t noticed. Nervous sweat ran down my back, pooling at the base of my spine. My palms were wet and sweaty, and I had to resist the urge to wipe them on my jeans.

Kit watched me, his stoic expression giving nothing away. “I told him we were on. In a half hour, he and his thugs will be in town meeting Harris at the diner.”

“Confirmed,” Jessie whispered to me through the link. “That’s what he said.”

I turned my attention back to Kit. “I don’t want anything to happen to Harris.”

“That makes two of us.” He returned my glare with interest.

“You could email Dykovski back, put it off for a few hours. Give us time to get the team on the ground and get them here. Boost our numbers.” I held my breath. It was a long shot, but I had to take it. Hunter’s gentle hum in my ear gave me strength.

The thin eyebrow rose. “Why would I want to wait for them? You already said you wouldn’t work with me.” His lower lip twisted into a bit of a sneer. “Two months ago you would have licked my feet to get tag teamed with me for a fight.”

I ignored the insult. “I don’t want this town to go up in flames.” I jabbed a finger in the general direction of the diner. “Dykovski’s got super weapons. He’s got super thugs. Right now all you’ve got is Harris, who wants to save this town from destruction, and me, for what that’s worth. Just because you’re an Alpha and free from the Agency doesn’t mean you can do what you want.”

He crossed his arms in front of him. His one good eye narrowed as he stared at me. “So what do you want me to do?” The tone vibrated between curious and defiant.

“Go back to the plan, the one you sold Harris on. Let them take Harris. You and I follow Dykovski back to his base, hook up with the team and we’ll do a coordinated attack.” I tried not to sound like I was pleading. “Harris is willing to put his ass on the line for this. Don’t turn his choice bad by making this town ground zero for your fight with Dykovski.”

His lips pressed into a thin, stiff line.

I kept going, trying to spin the charm—playing the role I’d been trained for by the Agency. Stroking his ego, letting him be the big man while I played damsel in distress.

“It’s time to be a real hero, Kit. Be an Alpha, be the Alpha everyone remembers. Lead my team into Dykovski’s den and drag him out for the cameras. Then you can retire with your head held high, and everyone’s going to remember you for this one last battle.” I smiled and bowed my head, just enough to let him stand tall. “It’ll be epic. They’ll be talking about it for years,” I whispered. “Just imagine the press. The magazine articles, the interviews.”

“Hmm.” The edge of his mouth twitched. “Been awhile since I got the front page.”

“They’ll give you a special edition.” I spoke as fast as I could, words tumbling out with praise. “With so few supers left, much less an Alpha, you’re going to be the main man again. Front page, breaking news, press conferences galore. Anything you want’ll be yours. Booze, women, hotel suites—anything.”

Kit rubbed his unmarked cheek. “I need justice as well, Surf.” His voice dropped down. “My first Guardian, Michael, was a good man. I did everything the Agency asked, and they fucked me over with Nicholas Dykovski.”

I nodded. There was nothing to say.

“All I asked for was a bit of respect. I jumped through the hoops, I did everything they asked of me. I asked for one favor, one favor—get me another Guardian—and they dragged their heels. I couldn’t show up for a photo shoot because he stomped me after a few beers. I deserved better than that.” The single eye didn’t blink.

“Yes, you did. We all did.” I chewed on my bottom lip. Time was not on my side. I gave up on the idea of delaying the confrontation. “Let’s go wait for Dykovski to take the bait. Let’s go be superheroes one last time.”

Kit stood up straight, and for a second I saw the Alpha I’d worshipped for years, the man behind the myth. “Okay. Here’s how it’s going to play out.” He pointed at the far corner of the room. “I’m going to set myself up on the roof kitty-corner across the street from the diner. Give me the high ground and I’ll be able to see everything around me. You,” he rumbled. “You take the ground.”

A childish tickle danced up my spine at going into battle alongside one of my idols.

His hand came through the gap and landed on my shoulder. “There’s an alley across from the diner, got a dumpster right in front. Hardware store on one side, junk clothing on the other. Give you more cover. I’d suggest you go there. I’ll watch your back.”

“Roger that.” I looked around, afraid the elderly lady from the front desk was about to rap our knuckles for talking too much. “I don’t want to be too far from Harris in case something starts.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Kit replied, a touch of arrogance in his voice. “If I don’t move, you don’t move. You wait for my cue, no matter what happens.” His index finger shot up, dangerously close to my face. “On my cue. Only.”

“Okay.” I resisted the urge to slap his hand down. “We watch and track.”

Kit nodded. “Watch and track.” A smile tugged at his lips. “The jacket’s too big for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” I didn’t return the smile. “Shall we go?”

As soon as we exited the library, Kit gave me a sharp nod and jogged off to the left, headed for his perch. I watched him move out of sight with an uneasy lurch in my belly.

“Jessie, anything on Dykovski’s location?”

“Nada. He picked up the message, and I’m still checking the bounce. Bastard must be using some major Agency toys. It’s hitting a half dozen countries on the trace.”

“Just keep on it. I’m heading for the diner.”

“Stay frosty,” Hunter said. “Be careful.”

The response died on my lips as Harris came on the line. He’d opened his link to the group channel, letting us all in on what he was saying. It’d be a one-sided conversation, but we’d hear what was going on in the diner.

“Thanks for the refill, Bernie,” Harris said. “You feeling okay?” A second of silence. “You’re looking a little flushed. Maybe you should pack it in early, go home.”

I ducked into the narrow alley between Kensington Grove Hardware and Second Time ’Round. Just as Kit said, a large green metal dumpster almost filled the entire space.

It was a good spot. I could see the bus stop, the diner and the road in both directions. The diner sat on the corner, so I didn’t have to worry too much about an obstructed view.

Harris continued his nervous chatting. “Her? Resting at my place.” A sly chuckle. “I tend to wear them out.”

Bernie must have said something akin to what I was thinking.

“You wound me, woman. Would I lie to you?” Harris replied.

A Greyhound bus pulled up and disgorged a handful of people. The afternoon run from God knows where.

Two men headed for the diner, the other two women waving and sprinting towards a mid-sized car sitting nearby. Someone lifted a hand and yelled, calling the travelers home.

I spotted Harris inside the diner, sitting in the same booth I’d sat in before. He didn’t glance out into the street, didn’t look for me. He was playing his part perfectly, the eager supervillain looking for a chance to better his new lot in life. Nervous, fidgeting, glancing around as if afraid the Agency would spring out of the ground and drag him back down to hell.

The two newcomers strolled in and sat at the counter. Bernie went over to Harris and refilled the mug in front of him.

“You guys want coffee? Best in the county,” Harris said.

Bernie paused for a second and moved off at a fast clip, heading back behind the counter.

Harris shrugged in response to a question and then shook his head, lifting one hand and flapping it like a bird’s wing.

The two men spoke among themselves, laughing and chuckling. I squinted and saw the time on the large clock inside the diner.

Three o’clock exactly.

Three men were in the diner and I knew one of them was a super. Odds were the other two were as well. I didn’t recognize them, not at this distance. It was possible I hadn’t even met them in my choreographed battles.

It wouldn’t have been surprising. Hundreds of supers existed before the initial attack. Hundreds had died, either in battle or by having their plugs pulled by Guardians when they refused to fight.

Now we only had a handful of family left, as Harris had said.

But every family had black sheep.

Bernie approached the two men, empty coffee mugs in hand. They nodded at her and she set up the drinks, her lips moving in friendly chitchat.

“Thanks, dear,” Harris tried again. “Sure you’re feeling well? You look flushed.”

Bernie waved him off and retreated into the back. I only hoped it’d be enough to keep her out of the line of fire.

One of the two men gestured at Harris to join them. He picked up his mug and headed for the pair, a wide grin on his face.

I turned my attention up to the building standing across from the diner. A two-story wooden structure, it was vacant with a rental sign in the window.

Kit Masters stood on the roof, almost hidden behind a fat metal vent. He stared at me, his face expressionless.

I watched Kit watching me. He wasn’t paying attention to Harris. He was looking around me, behind me.

Watching my back.

“So where’s the boss?” Harris asked, the words echoing in my ear. “I mean, I’m glad to see you guys, but I figured I’d be talking to the main man.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Something was wrong, something was behind me, someone behind me.

“Stupid woman.” Pressure behind my left ear. “Say a word and I blow your head off.”

I looked at Kit. He didn’t move. He didn’t leap into battle to save me.

He stood and watched.