by Lola Dodge
“Not at all.” I took another step. I was almost directly underneath Rich now—and I suspected he’d enjoy the superior position, looking down on me.
“They’re taking advantage of our talents.” Now Rich folded his arms. “Don’t you feel like you’re babysitting most of the time?”
“Sometimes.” I could honestly admit that much, though I saw where his reasoning was going and it made my stomach twist.
“And who gets the glory? Who gets the money and movie deals and acclaim? Hell, who gets basic respect?”
Dios mío. He’d ruined his career for this?
The guys and girls could be spoiled handfuls at times, but they were the ones chasing criminals down back alleys, staying up late to track leads and putting their necks on the line. Sometimes they were my job, but most of the time they were my friends. My family. They deserved the opportunities they got after risking their lives, and despite all the exhaustion and struggles that went with the job, I was proud to be part of that.
Rich had strayed so very far from the logical path.
I wasn’t going to disagree with him, but I doubted I could sell a full-out lie on this point. “It just seems…extreme.”
“It is. And it has to be.” He was pacing now, gesturing as his agitation grew. “But why would you complain? You’re an Angel. They still call me Brainboy. My own heroes. Can you think of a more sidekick name?”
I suppressed a wince. Yes, it was silly, but I could imagine that nickname grating on him year after year…it wasn’t an excuse, but it started to explain where he was coming from. “I’ve never called you that, Rich.”
“That’s why you’re still alive.” His voice was suddenly flat, showing a glimpse of the mind inside the shell.
This time, I couldn’t suppress a shudder. Quan growled low in his throat, and I flattened my palm, hoping he caught the sign. Stay there. I’ve got it. At least I hoped I did. Logic might not work if Rich was as far gone as he seemed to be. “I was wondering about that. What’s your plan?”
Rich’s expression lightened. “If you’re willing to see my side, I’m sure we can come to terms.”
My gaze flicked to Quan and our eyes met. He was motionless and hopefully on board with following my lead. “And the panther?”
“He’s one of them,” Rich said, as if that was all that needed to be mentioned. “Though his loyalty to you is commendable. I’m betting he’ll take whichever side you choose.”
Quan gave a subtle shrug, and from that small gesture he may as well have said his thoughts aloud. I hate the bastard, but he’s not really wrong.
Either way, choosing Rich’s side wasn’t an option.
Now came the tricky part. He wouldn’t believe me if I gave in too easily, but he also wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t show enough reluctance. “Aren’t you one of them? Aren’t we all supers here?” More or less.
“Am I? Are we?” Heat spilled into his voice and I reflexively took a step back. I’d just hit an unintended button. “In another age, another world, you and I would have been considered gifted. But superheroes? Come on. We’re not like the rest of them.”
“Maybe.” I’d often thought as much. Am I really a hero? I don’t feel like one of them…
The line might be vague, and maybe I’d vacillated over the years, but I knew exactly where I wanted to be standing now. “And if I refuse?”
“The story is that the panther lost control again and had to be shipped home. You’re escorting him per your legal obligations.” Rich lifted his hands. “Unfortunately, the private plane you took is about to hit some bad weather.”
A faked plane crash? Maybe we weren’t sunk regardless of what I did next. There were too many ways that plan could fail. I opened my mouth, but Rich cut me off.
“I might not be as good as you, Angel, but I know how to manage the details of a cover-up. A few stand-in bodies and bribes to the right officials.” He opened his palms. “It’s flawless.”
Mierda.
“Let me think about it.” It wouldn’t work long-term—the Ten would find out eventually—but that wouldn’t make a difference if we were already dead.
“You have an hour.” Rich waved to someone and all the lights flicked off—when they came back on, only the opaque ceiling was lit.
We were alone. I slumped at Quan’s side. His muscles hummed with tension.
“You should go with his plan,” Quan’s voice rumbled.
I shook my head. “He’ll kill you.” Or more likely, send him to be killed. Had Rich been involved with that plan when Panther was the cat in question? He was definitely an accessory to murder, but was he a bona fide murderer?
“But you’ll get away. Better if you’re safe.” I turned to read his expression, but Quan stared straight at the wall in front of him.
I nudged him with an elbow, forcing him to look, but the depth in his eyes pushed me back. Heat and possession and a hundred things I couldn’t read lurked in his mind.
The pit of my stomach tightened. No man had ever looked at me like that before. I’d deliberately avoided any situation that could lead to this.
But…I didn’t hate it. Didn’t even dislike it.
I feared what it might mean for the future, but in the present? Having Quan here was nothing but a blessing.
It just wasn’t the time to deal with any feelings we did or didn’t have.
Rich hadn’t tipped his hand on the security situation, but I assumed we were being watched. I bent to Quan’s ear, barely speaking, just mouthing the words—with his hearing he’d pick it up. “I won’t sell you out. Can you get in the crate and wait for my signal?” It would look suspicious as anything that I was whispering, but I needed Quan to hide regardless of what I was planning. Otherwise, he made too easy a target.
He grunted, then unfolded his body and lifted his arms above his head in an exaggerated stretch. Then he shucked off his jacket and started undoing his buttons.
“What are you…?” It was suddenly very hard to find words in English or any other language. The florescent light glistened off Quan’s broad, bare shoulders, each muscle carved to blushing perfection. Not that he was blushing. He started unbuttoning his pants, unzipping…
I should tell him to stop.
Quan smirked as he stripped off his pants. “It’s not a free show.”
Maybe he’d make me pay for it or my reaction somehow, but I’d already memorized the details from the corded lines of his thighs to the brand of his boxer briefs. Free replays for life. For once that sounded like a treat instead of a burden.
Before I could drool anymore, he shifted. The switch was almost instantaneous. One moment he stood towering over me and the next he was leaping onto four paws, wiggling out of the boxers. He rubbed around my legs in a circle and butted my hips like an over-sized house cat before slinking into the box. Only the orangey glow of his eyes gave away his presence.
I shook myself. Focusing on Quan would get us both in trouble. I needed to do a better job playing my role.
If it worked, I was going to earn myself an Oscar.
I paced, fussed with my hair and wrung my hands and skirt—the picture of a torn woman, and I wasn’t faking the nerves. My rapid pulse was no act. Rich could only assume what I was torn about.
Seconds dragged, and I was almost positive that time had halted until the lights finally reversed, clearing the ceiling to reveal Rich and his guards. Still only two of them. Any more and my plan wouldn’t work.
The guards leaned in, looking for their target, and Rich was immediately suspicious. “What’s the panther doing?”
“Sleeping.” I made a show of peering into the crate. “Panthers rest most of the day in the wild. He hasn’t adjusted and he still has those drugs in his system.”
“And your decision?” Rich’s eyes narrowed through his glasses.
“
I can’t say I don’t see your point, but I’d like to talk about it some more.” I stepped away from the crate, trying to show that Quan wasn’t my priority. “And I wouldn’t say no to a bathroom trip.”
“Step toward the wall.” Rich pointed. “And I hope you’re prepared to prove your loyalty.”
“That’s reasonable.” I waited as a square section of the ceiling descended. Now that I’d seen it in motion, I knew which model the Pack had installed. The entire ceiling could move up and down and each of the quadrants could work as lift platforms.
I stepped onto the plexi surface, trying to calm my nerves as the square ascended. I caught a last flash of Quan’s eyes before I was out of range.
As I stepped toward Rich, the guns stayed pointed at the ground.
I wasn’t a threat. Of course not. The woman? The secretary with nothing but a good memory?
As I said a quick prayer, adrenaline surged through my system. Thank the sweet Lord for being underestimated.
A few slow, even steps brought me within inches of Rich—he smiled.
I lunged, using all my body weight to drive the heel of my hand into his nose.
The impact jarred my arm, but a crunch sounded, and Rich grabbed at his face, letting out a watery scream. Blood dripped through his fingers.
Before the guards could turn their weapons, I whirled Rich around and grabbed the pen from his breast pocket. I held him in a headlock, pressing the pen firmly against his throat. “Lower the ceiling!”
The guards stood motionless. Rich gurgled some order at them, but my window wouldn’t last. He was stronger than me, and as soon as he’d shaken off the blinding pain, it would be the easiest thing for him to break my shaky hold.
I pressed the pen harder, drawing a yelp from him, even as my hands shook. “The ceiling. Now!”
Rich grabbed at my arms. I had seconds, maybe.
It’s not going to work. It’s not going to—
One of the guards stomped the floor trigger, and half the cell’s roof started to descend. Throwing all my strength into a final heave, I pushed Rich onto the falling surface. “Quan!”
A silent blur, the panther sprang. Now the guards were torn. Who was the target?
Quan sank his teeth into Rich’s shoulder, dragging him under the cover of the crate before the guards could make a decision. I shook and already sensed the pain setting into my arm, but I couldn’t lose it just yet.
Rich’s screams echoed through the cell chamber—now that I was standing on top, I glimpsed dozens of cells. Most were full.
Who else is down here?
The guards leveled their guns at me—these were honest weapons rather than the dart guns holstered to their hips. Adrenaline kept me from giving into fear, but it wouldn’t last. This balance could tip in a second.
“Call off the panther.” They soldier-stepped toward me, weapons ready.
“He doesn’t listen to me.” I lifted my hands.
Another scream punctuated my words.
“Shit.” One of the guards hopped down. The second kept his eyes and gun on me. He wore full body armor like some kind of mercenary, which he probably was.
I prayed Quan would be safe in the shadows—they couldn’t shoot into the crate without hitting Rich.
I was the one with nowhere to hide.
My tricks weren’t much use against bullets, and I had to do something or this stalemate wouldn’t go in our favor.
The ceiling trigger for the nearest cell was almost in range. I kept my hands up, slowly stepping away from the open cell as if I was cooperating. I slid my toe, leaning, stretching—
Whoosh.
Lights flickered and half the ceiling fell in the neighboring cell. I was hoping for some angry, wrongly imprisoned super who’d be happy to get some revenge on Rich and his forces.
Instead, a metal bucket sailed through the air. As the guard’s eyes followed its trajectory, a man vaulted up. He charged, tackling the guard. A shot ricocheted into the ceiling.
“Help me push!” He was already rolling the struggling guard toward his open cell. The guard fought, but he was tangled in his gear. I snagged away the gun and added a push.
The man tipped through the ceiling, and I lunged for the button. The panel tilted, rolling him to the ground, and then ascended, sealing the man inside. “Quan!”
Quan dodged the last free guard and a spray of bullets as he bounded upward. I hit the button pad as soon as we were clear. A few bullets pinged off the closing ceiling, but we were safe—bulletproof. Quan licked the blood on his muzzle as he stalked between me and the other escapee, his tail flicking. I patted his shoulder. “He’s a friend.”
“About time.” The man’s chest heaved, his light brown skin flushing. “I was waiting for you for ages.”
His appearance clicked with my memory bank, as if I could’ve forgotten his striking eyes—silver brown, with a dark outer rim, almost like mirrors. “You’re Dev.”
The missing intern. The Pack was supposed to be investigating his disappearance—not keeping him hostage.
“Bingo.” Dev rolled his shoulders. “Can we get out of here? I need a shower and some In-N-Out immediately.”
I scratched behind Quan’s ears, and he licked Rich’s blood from my fingertips. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard.”
A wave of relief rolled over me, battling with bone-deep exhaustion. I needed to call the Ten and alert the FBI and contact Dev’s family—
Quan batted me with his tail. I could almost hear him telling me to take it easy.
And really?
I’d been captured, driven to assaulting a man and had uncovered more conspiracies than I wanted to count. It was a lot to handle, and I would deal with it all eventually. For now?
“I could go for a milkshake.”
Chapter Thirteen
Quan
We made it to the lobby without running into more security, which was a downer. I’d be more than willing to go another round with a few of those assholes. We did rank plenty of stares and gasps from the desk slaves doing the nine to five thing at the tower.
Staying in panther form made it easier to keep Angel safe—although I was starting to wonder if the mastermind really needed my protection.
Maybe not. Still, I brushed against her as often as I could. I needed to feel that she was okay, and seeing her covered in blood and exhausted wasn’t doing it.
Dev strolled, giving waves here and there. I liked the kid’s style, and he smelled honest—although he wasn’t lying about needing a shower.
Angel paused at the reception desk. “Can I use your phone?”
“Of course.” The shaken secretary passed over the receiver. Angel dialed in a number from memory. “Tank? Can you call the FBI and send some of the crew down here? Richard Card was the leak.”
The guy on the line’s tone spiked. Angel spoke over him. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I spent the night in one of the Pack’s cells, but I managed to find Dev Atal while we were down there. Rich is waiting for you in the prison block. Send the authorities down to the In-N-Out Burger on Sunset and Orange when they’re ready to take our testimonies.”
Angel hung up. I liked the way her shoulders straightened. She wasn’t taking any more shit today.
“Bold move.” Dev led the way out of the lobby. His silvery eyes went hazy as he stared across the lobby. “We can hitchhike with a nice Korean family if we start walking now.”
“Done.” Angel strode for the lobby doors.
A few minutes later, we were waving down a minivan. Dev did some fast talking, and I climbed through the sliding door to settle next to Angel and lay my head in her lap. She scratched the fur at the back of my neck just right. I purred like a lap cat while Mr. and Mrs. Kim snapped phone pics from the front seat.
None of us cared as long as they didn’t call the co
ps.
“How did you get captured?” Angel asked.
“I was interning with the Pack and figured out that Rich was into some dirty business.” Dev tapped his temple. “Clairvoyant and nosy isn’t a great combo. He figured out what I was up to before I could bring in the police, and I’ve been underground ever since. I figured someone in the family would track me down, but then I saw you coming…” He shrugged. “All’s well, I guess.”
“Maybe.” Angel’s fingers traced pensive circles in the scruff of my neck.
I could so get used to this.
We pulled into the drive-thru and Angel rolled down the window to put in a massive order.
“I want everything animal style,” Dev said.
I didn’t have a fucking clue what that meant, but it sounded about right.
After the dude at the window heaved our food into the car, she set a heap of burger patties on the floorboards for me. “Go crazy.”
If I had permission?
I tore into them.
Angel sipped a milkshake, looking as relaxed as I’d ever seen her.
I wanted to see more of her, but that was a chat for later.
I could already hear sirens in the distance.
Angel
I got a stern talking to from some of the FBI investigators on the inappropriateness of leaving the scene, but I didn’t need a lecture on responsibility. Their questions dragged on for hours, and I didn’t regret popping out for a snack before sitting down to this nasty business.
I’d fractured a metacarpal and skinned my knuckles when I punched Rich in the face, but I’d do it again with no qualms, and the pain was only a dull ache now. All in all, we’d gotten away easy.
Dev had corroborated my story and was off being interrogated elsewhere, although I hoped he’d be allowed to see his family soon. None of this was his fault. I was guessing all this “internship program” nonsense was Rich’s attempt to either funnel allies to his side or farm innocent kids out to the anti-supers.
I shuddered.
I’d known something was off there, but I never would’ve guessed this.
