PHENOMENAL GIRL 5 (8 page)

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Authors: A. J. MENDEN

BOOK: PHENOMENAL GIRL 5
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“You will take a chance on my tastes?” he asked.

“I trust anyone with such fantastic taste in cars.”

He smiled. “So, tell me something about one of your teams. The adventures you have had so far.”

“Only if you’ll tell me about working with the EHJ.”

“Alright. You go first.”

I was hesitant at first, but as he nodded and laughed at appropriate times, seeming genuinely interested, I got more into the storytelling. I never thought my life was all that exciting, especially to someone like him, but somehow I managed to blab straight through the several courses.

“…And then, Ignition and Titantrix start throwing cars at each other. Cars! We’re all trying to calm them down before more collateral damage is done, and then they pick up the team leader Ripshot’s car,” I said as the waiter removed our plates and gave us salads.
Salad after appetizers and two main courses? Fancy restaurants confuse me.

“So, then what happened?”

“Well, of course he’s mad, but there’s not much he can do about it because his power is more battle strategy-based than strength. So he tells me to go get it. I didn’t want to get in the middle of a lovers spat, but what could I do?”

“What did you do?”

“Well, I grabbed the car away from them and they both turn on me—How dare I get involved in their business?—and then the police show up, guns out, and that’s when everyone else takes advantage of the distraction to tackle Ignition and Titantrix to the ground. The police are all just staring, like, ‘What the hell is this?’ We’re heroes, we’re not
supposed to be acting like children! Although the median age of the Red Knights was about seventeen, so we weren’t that far out of kid-range, though we were all super-geniuses or had been sidekicks for years. Anyway, Ignition and Titantrix are hauled off to jail, and the whole time I’ve been holding the car up. I finally get to set it down, and as soon as I do, Ripshot’s all over it, checking to see if his baby’s been injured. And he turns to me and says, ‘You scratched the hood, Phenomenal Girl Five.’ ”

“I can imagine how that was concluded.”

“So, yeah. I punched him.” I took a nibble of salad, wanting to save room for dessert. “And so now everyone’s mad at me, big surprise, and we spent the ride back home in the Knight Jet in utter silence.”

“Why was it not a surprise they were all mad at you?”

I shrugged. “I was always the odd man out. My teammates all wanted to save the world, of course, but they also wanted to gossip about who was dating whom and go to the clubs in their off-time. I was Brainy Lainey with her nose stuck in a book who wanted to be in the EHJ when she grew up. I didn’t fit in with the regular kids at my public school because I lived in a foster home; then it was because I had powers, and once I got to the School, it was because I was younger than most of them, a bit on the chunky side, and a big nerd.” I sighed. “You ever feel like you don’t fit in anywhere?”

He stared at me. “What do you think?”

I gave a soft, humorless laugh. “Oh, yeah. Forgot who I was talking to, the king of loners.”

He took a drink of wine. “Sometimes it is better to be apart.”

“That doesn’t make it any less lonely.”

“No, it does not,” he agreed.

I eyed him over the rim of my wine glass. “Okay, let’s not ruin this good food with brooding. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about working with the EHJ.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, for starters, why’d you quit?”

“I did not quit, obviously, since you are here.”

“Why were you taken off the active members list, then?” I rolled my eyes. “Mister Literal.”

“That is not necessarily a less brooding topic of conversation. And I do not know if I should explain it to you.”

“Why not?”

“It might discourage you from joining.”

“Are you kidding? I’m already in, Robert. I’ve been working toward this my whole life.”

“That is exactly why I do not want to ruin it for you.”

“It’s not going to ruin it for me, I promise.”

He sighed and took another sip of wine. “Well then, to tell you the truth, the fun went out of it.”

“That’s it?” I leaned back in my chair. “I was expecting a big revelation and you just tell me that you were bored?”

“That is all, but that is enough. The Elite Hands of Justice became very political. It became more about helping the right kind of people, making the right impression, hiring the right hero who would get noticed and bring some connection to the team, than about helping people. And when there were not enough high-profile cases in America to suit them, they started doing work overseas. When they got bad press about interfering and trying to take over the world or some sort of rubbish, they decided to opt for space travel.”

“Aliens aren’t going to say ‘Those weird Earthlings are interfering’?”

“I am sure they do, but their press releases and opinion polls do not reach us.”

I laughed. “And I can tell you aren’t into politics.”

“You live long enough, you find out that politics are a meaningless waste of time and energy. Karl Marx once said that religion is the opiate of the masses. Now he would say our publicized political system is the opiate of the masses: people parroting the rhetoric of their designated side, never
bothering to check the facts for themselves or allowing anyone to disagree with them, because their side is always right.”

“Oh, did I set off a rant?”

He laughed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m very anti-partisan too. I think both sides are equally ridiculous.”

“I have fought in one too many wars over the years—some that were actually trying to stop evil, and some that were not. And some worthy causes and soldiers were spit upon because of politics. I thought the Elite Hands of Justice were the last bastion of good faith—of people trying to right wrongs, regardless of what others thought, just to make the world a better and safer place. And the people respected them for it.”

“But not anymore.”

“I am not saying they are not still seeking to make the world a better place, just that they care now about what others think. And now no one respects them for it.”

“Well, you’re not discouraging me,” I said, taking a forkful of the delicious cheesecake that had appeared at some point during his tirade.

“Well, I am glad, then. I think someone of your determination and idealism would be good for the team.”

“Thanks.” My cheeks warmed at the compliment and the way he looked at me when he said it. “And you know something else? I think you should go back, too.”

“What ever for?”

“To change it. You’ve had a hand in picking and training these new recruits; you probably know them better than their teammates. You know who’s decent and who’s not. Get rid of the waste and turn the team back to what it stood for.”

He laughed. “You make a convincing argument.”

“But you should finish training me first. Then you should come with me.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“Well! This is the last place I expected to find you!”

We both jumped as a huffy tornado stood by our table, fuming. It was Victoria Dupree.

“Good evening, Miss Dupree, and how are you?” Robert said. His tone was pleasant and yet still conveyed that he couldn’t possibly care.

“I thought you were unavailable for dinner.” Victoria’s tone was shrill. “And then I find you out with some little tramp young enough to be your daughter!”

I stared at her in shock. Wow, talk about overreacting.

“My assistant and I had matters to go over in town and we decided to stop to eat before returning home.”

She gaped at me. “You’re that rude girl? Never mind, I don’t care. Robert, I need to speak to you.”

“Well, I am busy, but if you would like to call the house tomorrow, I am sure Lainey can set up an appointment for you.”

“And you’ll show up this time?”

“If it is about that trifling party, then no. Lainey is taking care of that.”


I’ll
take care of all of that,” she hissed. “I need to speak to you about private matters.”

I was uncomfortable watching this exchange. She was just a little too wound up to only be bent on snagging him. That was more the tone of an ex.

“Fine, then. Call the house tomorrow. Lainey will check my schedule and pick a convenient time.”

I nodded. “First thing on the agenda tomorrow.
Robert
.”

She shot me a nasty look at the use of his name. I maintained a bored expression that only seemed to irritate her more.

“Fine. I will,” she snapped, stomping away.

Robert and I looked at each other. And then burst out laughing.

“That was dinner and a show,” I said, trying to stifle my giggles before I started snorting.

“Get her an appointment for fifteen minutes, no more. That is about all I can stomach.”

“She’ll love the ‘rude girl’ even more.”

“She needs to give up the idea of ever landing my money.”

“Well, I hate to tell her this, but coming over and throwing high drama all over the place is not a way to win friends and influence people,” I said with another laugh, tossing my hair back. “Wow, I’ve never been ‘some little tramp’ before. It’s kind of exciting.”

He leaned forward to speak in my ear. “Do you think you could have this much fun with the Elite Hands of Justice?”

I smiled. “Nah. Only with a man old enough to be my father. I think her math skills leave something to be desired, unless you’ve been fathering kids at the tender age of fourteen.”

“Unlikely, since I have not been fourteen since my first time around. And every woman on this planet is young enough to be my daughter. Including the woman right over there.”

I turned to look where he was pointing, at a grand woman dressed to the nines who had to be pushing ninety.

We both started laughing again.

“We’d better get out of here before the second act begins,” I said.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When I descended to Robert’s lair the next morning, after a quick gulp of breakfast, he was already surrounded by mountains of files. Did the man ever sleep?

“Good morning,” I said, taking the chair across the table from him. “Anything I can do to help?”

He gave me the barest acknowledgment. “No, it is my usual busywork from the Elite Hands of Justice. Time to run the magic-level estimates again.”

“Pardon me?”

“Every year, the Elite Hands of Justice takes all the intelligence they have on every magic-user in the country, from students to villains, and has me work up a profile on each to estimate how powerful their magic ability is or will be, and then enter it into our shared database.” He gestured to the large computer screen behind him.

“That sounds a bit intrusive and paranoid.”

He gave a slight shrug. “Magic-users are the most dangerous of all powers. Our abilities are only limited by our knowledge and strength of will. There is more potential to become drunk on power and take advantage.”

“So they depend on your expertise to single out who’s the most likely to become a threat?”

“Something like that, yes.” He tossed me a newspaper. “Take a look.”

I caught it. “Is this a broadening-my-horizons thing or something important?”

“There is something inside you should take a look at.”

“Uh-oh.” I spread the newspaper out on the nearest table not covered in books.

“Page Twelve,” he suggested, riffling through the contents of another file and scribbling down a note.

I flipped through the pages, expecting to see a celebrity or a member of the EHJ in the famous gossip column. Instead there was a photo of Robert leaning in to whisper something into a glamorous blonde woman’s perfect shell of an ear. She was laughing, and they looked like they were sharing an intimate moment. The caption under the photo read: “The infamous Robert Elliot was seen out canoodling with a hot blonde at the über-hot Tuscani’s.”

“Holy hell!” I shrieked. “That’s me! I’m the hot blonde!”

He grinned, glancing up at me from the files. “I thought you would get a kick out of that.”

I read the rest of the caption out loud. “Sources close to Elliot say the blonde is a colleague, but they’re looking a little too cozy at the intimate nightspot to be only friends.”

What would he say to the obvious chemistry the photo captured?

He shrugged. “You will get that on occasion. The paparazzi like to take a photo out of context.”

So much for chemistry.

“Everyone on the Power Squad is going to freak out, even though I’m unidentified,” I said.

“You will not be unidentified for long. The paparazzi have caught wind of you; now it is only a matter of time before they identify you. Might as well get used to it.”

I folded the paper, tucking it under my arm, intending to clip the photo later. “So I’m a star now, huh?”

“To those that read Page Twelve, yes, you are.”


Sir, you’re wanted on the phone
,” Mayhew’s disembodied voice interrupted from an unseen speaker.

Robert dug a cordless phone out from under a stack of files. “Robert Elliot. Good morning, Detective Pendergast.” He paused, listening, and then looked troubled. My heart sped up. Something was going on. “Yes, I understand. We will be there shortly.” He hung up and looked at me. “Syn is gone.”

A spike of fear shot through me, echoing phantom pains of Syn tearing at my soul. “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

“As in no longer in his cell. He just disappeared. Pendergast wants us downtown to investigate.” He was already heading toward the door.

“I thought you said you wiped out his magic,” I said, rising to follow him.

“I did.”

“So how did he get away?” I struggled to keep up with Robert’s long, purposeful strides down the hallway and up the stairs to the main floor.

“I do not know. That is the purpose of our investigation, is it not?” He stopped walking and looked at me. “Can you work this case, Lainey, or is it too personal?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, after what happened with Syn, will you be able to investigate this case with a clear head? Not allow emotions to cloud your thinking?”

I frowned. “I’m a professional, Robert. I can do this.”

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