by A A Woods
“We need to talk,” the man interrupted as his two partners shifted so they were standing on either side of the door. “You and your brothers have been causing some… disruptions as of late. Disruptions that have done exactly the opposite of keeping a low profile.”
Aquila pursed his lips. “That’s none of your business.”
Hans’s crystalline blue eyes drilled into Aquila, cold enough to burn. “On the contrary. It’s exactly my business.”
Folding his arms, Aquila did his best to meet the stranger’s gaze. It should have given him a sense of control, standing over him, glaring down at him.
Somehow, it only made Aquila feel more powerless.
“Is that so?” he asked aggressively. “Existing isn’t a crime, no matter what the news wants to believe. We just want to live our lives, sir. That’s all.”
“A noble intention, of course,” Hans said with a nod. “But an impossible one, I’m afraid.”
Dread filled Aquila’s chest. “Why?”
“Because you’re not alone.” Hans tilted his head, examining Aquila for a heartbeat longer than was comfortable. Then he lifted one gold-trimmed hand. “Tiny?”
Without missing a beat, the small, frail-looking young man curled his fingers into a tight knot and punched the wall.
His fist left a hole in the concrete.
Aquila’s mouth fell open, but Hans was already speaking.
“You see, the thing you and your friends fail to realize is that the world you’ve so recently debuted into was already spinning long before you decided to join it.”
“He’s…”
“Abnormal, yes,” Hans said, almost impatiently. “As is Pan here. The two of them act as my bodyguards.”
Aquila blinked, recovering quickly. “Seems like overkill.”
Hans leaned back against the wall, tilting his head in a way that oozed arrogance and security. “Only to those who don’t know what really goes bump in the dark.”
Aquila clicked his teeth closed, wishing he knew what to say. Wishing he didn’t feel like the lost, stupid kid Hans seemed to think he was.
Hans tapped his knee with big, square fingers. “I’ve been in the business of understanding, and protecting, Abnormals for quite some time now, Aquila. Unfortunately your father was faster to collect you five than I was. But at least he seemed to understand the need for secrecy.”
“Yeah, because we didn’t want to be lab rats anymore,” Aquila said, needing to latch onto something he did understand.
Hans scoffed. “Lab rats? Is that what he told you the risk was?” He shook his head. “No, son, it’s bigger than that. Bigger even than me.”
“Tell me then,” Aquila said, taking a challenging step forward and ignoring the way the two bodyguards bristled. “Or are you going to keep playing word games all afternoon?”
The smile Hans responded with was sharp and calm, as if Aquila’s snarl was nothing but a childish outburst. “In the world I inhabit, Aquila, information must be earned. You don’t get knowledge for free, especially when it’s dangerous.”
“Fine. Then I don’t want it.”
“Really?” Hans said, cocking his head. “Not even to protect the lovely young woman I saw outside? What was her name, again…?”
“Eliza Mason,” said the curvy assistant, her tone gleeful and more threatening than anything Hans had said.
Aquila balled his fists and bared his teeth in a snarl. “You leave her alone.”
“Aquila my boy, I have no intention of harming anyone. I’m only here to offer you fair warning of those who might, should you continue to be so… ostentatious with your abilities.”
Glaring at each face in turn, Aquila felt even more trapped than he had when they’d locked him in here. This guy was bad news, anyone could see that. But what if there was something worse out there? Something that put his brothers, put Eliza, in danger? Aquila had already learned the painful lesson of what happened when he didn’t pay enough attention. He’d almost lost his brother and father and freedom.
He couldn’t afford not to know.
“What do you want?” Aquila asked, his voice little more than a growl.
Hans pushed to his feet, smiling like a predator. “There’s a matter I need help investigating. Very specific help, in fact.”
“Let me guess, you need me.”
“Indeed. However, it’s not a matter we can discuss here.”
“Of course not,” Aquila sneered, watching as Hans strode to the door and knocked twice.
“Come to my hotel room tonight, after dark. Top floor of the Marriott near Times Square. Pan will greet you on the balcony.”
Pan grinned at him.
Ignoring her, Aquila narrowed his eyes. “And you’ll tell me what’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you what you must do in order to learn what’s going on.” Hans tilted his head as the door swung open. “As I said, there are no handouts in the real world.”
“Fine.”
“And remember, Aquila.” Hans paused, heavy fingers gripping the frame of the cell door. “Low profile. Or you never know who might get hurt.”
Aquila watched the three of them file out, waiting for the officer to lock him in again. But the young man only ducked his head and said, “You’re free to go.”
“What?”
“Charges were dropped. Just keep your feet on the ground, all right?”
Dazed and more than a little unsettled, Aquila followed the youthful officer through the hall and past a cluster of desks. He was vaguely aware of everyone staring at him, hot eyes following him out. But it was easy to ignore. His brain was too full, his mind too distracted.
What just happened?
Finally, he was led into a painfully bright lobby, cluttered with—
“Aquila!”
Eliza flew into him, knocking the air out of his lungs. He reacted instinctually, wings snapping out for balance, arms wrapping around her, pulling her in tight enough that her hair tickled the bottom of his chin.
“Are you ok?” she began to babble. “Joe was calling everyone we could think of, and then they told us that they were just letting you go. What happened? What did they say?”
Aquila blinked, taking in the cluster of reporters and phones pointed at his face, Joe standing off to one side and sliding his own phone back into his pocket.
And there, across the lobby, Hans lingering by the entrance, watching the scene unfold.
Slowly, Hans lifted one square finger and pressed it to his lips.
Then he and his bodyguards slipped through the revolving door and were gone.
“What happened, Aquila?” Eliza was asking, pulling away from his chest. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the door. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Or I will be, he thought, leading her out. When I figure out what the heck is going on.
Chapter Eighteen: Petty Crime
Moose fought the urge to laugh.
To say the hotel had lax security was putting it mildly; they might as well have asked for him to break in.
He’d darted past the concierges as they admitted an Asian family toting two yapping dogs, who’d covered the patter of Moose’s footsteps nicely. They’d all seen him, of course, but Moose found that if he moved fast enough, the human mind would invent excuses. Gust of wind, flash of light, moment of dizziness. Even when one of the kids pointed at him and laughed, the mother only grabbed his hand and began to speak in rapid-fire Japanese.
Getting into the stairwell had been the tough part. Moose had found a vending machine that didn’t quite fit into the opening and slid himself in next to it. Crouching in the shadows, he waited for someone to open the door. If anyone had looked, they would have seen his bright orange goggles or shock of brown hair. But they didn’t, so he was able to linger in silence until a maintenance guy shoved through the staff entrance—backward, thank God—giving Moose the opening he needed. With a quick breath and some deft maneuvering,
he slipped around the guy listening to loud rock music, zoomed past the empty admin desk, ducked behind a laundry basket to avoid a woman hurrying down the hall in loud heels, and, finally, disappeared into the emergency exit.
Panting slightly and feeling electrified by the thrill, Moose took in the endless, circling corridor of stairs leading straight up.
He cracked his knuckles.
“Nothing for it but to do it,” he said, grinning to himself.
Then he began to climb.
At first, he took each floor at a sprint, flying up five, ten, fifteen stories. But around the twentieth floor, even Moose began to slow. Mentally kicking himself for turning down all those muscle-building exercises with Otto, he pushed himself to keep moving, keep up his speed. He needed to be a blur on the camera. It was vitally important that this Hans guy couldn’t connect the Vagabonds to whatever Victor was up to. Moose didn’t want that kind of responsibility.
As he whooshed up the stairs and tried not to worry if his heart was going to explode, Moose distracted himself with thoughts of Victor and his new mission. It was hugely exciting to have stumbled upon this opportunity. But Moose couldn’t shake the small voice in his head that kept reminding him that he was stealing. That’s what the bad guys did.
Aquila certainly wouldn’t approve.
Well, what the heck does he know?
This was the city, after all. Things were more complicated here. Maybe there was no pure good or pure bad, only alliances and deals made in back alleys. Besides, this Hans guy just looked bad, didn’t he? With those piercing eyes and gold-laden fingers, Hans was the picture-perfect supervillain. So what if Victor gave off some weird vibes of his own? Victor was connected. He was going to point Moose in the right direction.
Unfortunately for him, that direction right now was up.
Pausing directly beneath a security camera, Moose tried to catch his breath.
Victor had said to wait until tomorrow, until the party thingy when Hans would be distracted. But Moose was going to surprise him. With this job already out of the way, Moose would be open to doing more heroic things.
More important things.
He’d never been physically impressive the way Aquila was. Where the other brothers had all excelled in something, Moose had been the troublemaker, the nuisance, the fly. But here was someone Moose could impress, someone who didn’t know the first or last thing about him.
And reinventing himself already felt so good.
Hitching a smile back onto his face, Moose bounced his knees and peered up. Just another forty stories to go.
Gotta be fast, he thought, wondering how long Hans would take at the police station. Lightning fast. Super-fast.
The thought made him grin and explode back into motion.
He was nothing if not fast.
Chapter Nineteen: Secrets and Lies
“What do you mean nothing happened?”
Aquila hunched his shoulders, grateful for the size of Joe’s family’s apartment and yet wishing it was bigger. He could feel Eliza and Joe pressing in behind him, their attention worse than spotlights. The whole ride home in the oversized taxi Joe had called for them, Aquila had evaded and dodged Eliza’s questions. He’d lied about Hans, about what they’d said to him. He’d left out the cryptic warning and the unwelcome invitation. About the only truthful thing he’d shared was that the police had mysteriously let him go. Joe had nodded, agreeing that they couldn’t hold him without charge.
But Eliza wasn’t so easily deterred.
“You’re not telling us everything,” Eliza said, jerking off her coat and throwing it over a huge, plushy accent chair.
Aquila rubbed his neck. “Eliza, would you let it go?”
“No,” she said, the word hard and stubborn. “That guy talked to you. He looked right at me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. You’re cutting us out.”
“I’m not cutting anyone out,” he said, heading for the coffee machine. He didn’t even like coffee, but he wanted something to do with his hands, some way to change the subject.
“Eliza, maybe they just realized the arrest was bogus,” Joe said.
Aquila twisted in the act of getting a mug, surprised that Joe would take his side. He was well aware Joe’s longstanding crush on Eliza, a crush Aquila’s presence had stomped all over. The innate competition should make them natural enemies.
Apparently not.
He wanted to smile, offer Joe a we’re cool expression to show his gratitude.
Eliza’s expression made his face muscles lock up.
She was glaring at him like a breaking storm, a desperate electrical crackle in her eyes that made Aquila think of the fight they’d had right before he was arrested, the fight Joe couldn’t possibly know about.
“I see what you’re doing,” Eliza said, her voice deceptively calm. “I know what this is about.”
Aquila faced the two of them, trying not to look like he was clutching the heavy ceramic mug for support. “And what am I doing?”
“Don’t patronize me,” she spat. “I’m not a child.”
Aquila bit back his response, but you’re not like us, knowing that wouldn’t help. Eliza didn’t need the reminder that she lacked superpowers. He imagined she was all too aware.
Instead he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, unable to lie while looking right at her. “Eliza, it’s over. I’m fine and now we can get back to looking for Moose. That’s what we’re here for!”
He couldn’t help the edge of temper that slipped out at the end, the only sign of how frayed his nerves really were. It was too much; the crowds, the arrest, that man with the ice blue eyes.
Aquila just wanted to go home.
He had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Fine.” At the sound of Eliza’s voice, Aquila opened his eyes. She hadn’t moved. Her fists were still clenched. But there was something defeated in her eyes, worse than anything she could have said. “If you don’t want to tell me what really happened, that’s your choice. Just let me know when you want my help again.”
Shoulders stiff, steps measured, Eliza strode toward her bedroom.
“Eliza, wait…”
But she was already closing the door behind her with a too-quiet click that Aquila strongly suspected took all of her self-control not to make into a slam.
Aquila rubbed his neck again. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry,” Joe said.
“For what?”
Joe shrugged, offering a wan smile. “For everything?”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, but it’s not not my fault, right? I mean, with my parents…”
Aquila thought about Hans and the strange, coded threats. You never know who might get hurt. HNN and their competitors had been the main villains in his life for months now, with their relentless personal attacks. But maybe he hadn’t seen the whole picture yet. Maybe he’d been so focused on the shallow cuts, painful as they were, that he’d ignored something else. Something more dangerous.
It’s bigger than that. Bigger even than me.
Aquila sighed, resting his hip against the coffee table. “Do you think there are people out there who just get to live normal, safe lives? Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Joe snorted, shrugging off his jacket. “I’ve been saying that since I was five.”
“You could always move to the middle of nowhere.”
“What do you think I was trying to do in Scottstown?” Joe joked, gathering Eliza’s pea coat and hanging it next to his. “But your family kinda put a monkey wrench in that.”
Aquila chuckled, glad for the distraction. “Maybe I’m the one who should apologize.” Then he winced, suddenly too aware of the awkwardness that should, by rights, be between them.
But Joe only smiled, closing the closet. “I’ll send you the psychiatry bill.”
“Come on, like you need someone to pay a bill for you.
”
Joe waggled his head. “Fair.” Then he sighed, looking to Eliza’s door. “She’s not ok, is she?”
Aquila’s smile dropped. “She’s…” but he couldn’t say fine. Not when he’d already spent the whole damn afternoon lying his face off. He sighed again. “She’s getting through it.”
“And she’d get through it better in Scottstown, I’m assuming?”
“I honestly don’t know. But I’d sure like to go back.”
“I don’t blame you. New York is a lot.”
“And it doesn’t like me,” Aquila said ruefully, putting the empty mug down and wondering what to do with his empty hands.
“Don’t take it personally. New York doesn’t like anyone. You’re not that special.”
Tipping his head back and staring at the beautiful chandelier in the middle of the living room, Aquila chuckled. “Don’t I wish.”
An amicable silence followed that statement, one in which Aquila knew they were both thinking about the same thing. Their powers, their abnormalities, and the sad, persistent realities around them.
“Come to think of it,” Aquila said after a long moment. “I almost hope Moose is getting to be the hero he wants to be. At least one of us should enjoy all this, right?”
Joe snorted, gathering his laptop from the side table and drifting off toward the living room. “Famous last words, my friend. Famous last words.”
Chapter Twenty: Pilfering
Moose was fairly sure that he was going to die.
This was it, fifty-one floors at top-speed would finally do him in. Bent over beneath a security camera and gasping for air, he tried to slow his hummingbird heart, tried to swallow enough air, and tried most of all to not think about the fact that he had to do that whole stairwell again in reverse.
Easier to go down, he thought, trying to convince himself. Much easier to go down.
But the snarky side of his brain that Otto had never quite managed to beat out of him sneered, yeah right.
Well, there was no going back. Moose was where he was supposed to be. Time to move. He had no idea how long this Hans guy would be out (meeting with his imprisoned brother, but he chose not to think about that). And, in all likelihood, there would be security or obstacles to overcome that would require time Moose didn’t have.
