by Hal Bodner
If I’m lucky, that last part was a dream. I felt bad enough. The last thing I needed was Gretchen making smart ass comments about parts of my anatomy that she normally doesn’t get to see.
When Peter came home, Travis told him I’d come down with a really bad flu. Normally, my husband would have waited on me like Florence Nightingale. But he’d just gotten word of Jackson’s death and it floored him, even though he’d been expecting it. Jackson had no family so, as his protégée, Peter was expected to make all the arrangements. This was on top of trying to make sure the reigns at Greene Genes changed hands smoothly, and coping with whatever Thanatos planned to throw at Centerport next.
I suspect he was grateful to Travis for tending to me in my sickroom; it was one less thing he needed to worry about, and he couldn’t risk getting sick himself at such a crucial moment for the company. Even so, when I finally woke up, and could see without flashes of rainbow lights obscuring my vision, it was to a half dozen bouquets of fresh gladiolas and tuber roses. On the dresser was a stack of familiar white and gold marzipan boxes topped with a huge piece of cardboard upon which Peter had printed NOT UNTIL YOU FEEL BETTER!
“He wanted to be here,” Travis said. “I sent him back to work.”
“But…”
“No buts. The flu story won’t hold water–not nearly as much water as you spat up when they dragged you out of the river. I told him you’re highly contagious. He’ll be sleeping in the guestroom.”
“Travis!” I wailed. Peter and I had never once slept apart since the week we met.
“I know, kiddo.” He seemed genuinely sorry. “We can’t risk him realizing what’s really wrong with you. Your impersonation of a light bulb made the front page of the Courier. Do you want him to put two and two together?”
“No.” I winced. “What is wrong with me, by the way? I’ve never been hit this hard, or felt like this.”
“Electrocution.”
“You’re shitting me. I’ve been electrocuted before.”
“No, you’ve experienced minor shocks before. Nothing this bad. It seems a high-enough current shorts you out. It’s the Whirlwind’s version of Kryptonite, you might say.”
“How the hell did Thanatos know that? Even we didn’t know it.”
Travis frowned and looked worried.
“If you think that doesn’t bother the crap out of me, you can think again. We’re going to have to figure it out later. In the meantime, I’ll find a way to insulate the costume and…”
“There’s no time for that. Help me up.”
“Whoa there, pardner!” A beefy hand on my chest shoved me back onto the bed. “Your muscles are like jelly and your neurons are dancing the Watusi all over the place.”
“Is that what’s wrong with my fingers?” They’d been twitching involuntarily since I’d regained consciousness.
“Your fingers?” Travis snorted. “You should see the left side of your face.”
He must have seen my look of dismay. I can be brave about being shot, stabbed, blown up, incinerated, lasered, doused with radiation, and almost anything else. But when it comes to possible disfigurement, I panic.
I’m vain. So, sue me.
“Relax. The swelling is subsiding. But you are down for the count. At least for a day or two.”
“We have to stop Thanatos!”
“I’m aware of that. There have been some new developments as well.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Just before he died, Jackson told Peter that Brad Harmon kept copies of everything in a safe.”
“Not to speak ill of the dead but Jackson came up with that revelation a little late, dontcha think?”
“Pete went directly from the hospital to Bradley’s place. By the time he got there…”
“Don’t tell me. The safe was open and the stuff was gone.”
He looked glum. “Gretch and I can’t figure out how Thanatos knew about it.”
“Unless…argh!” When I tried to shift into a more comfortable position, a blast of molten lead attacked my muscles and I collapsed while every nerve in my body yelled in protest at the same time.
“Take it easy, Alec. I told you. It’s gonna take a couple of days.”
“In that case,” I said through gritted teeth, “would you kindly lift the invalid so he has a view of something other than his tastefully painted ceiling?”
Once he’d propped me up, I wiggled my fingers gingerly. I didn’t have much control but at least the effort didn’t send spears of agony up my arms.
“You were saying?”
“I may not be able to move, but my mind still works. Jackson and Bradley were the only two who knew about the safe, right? Jackson sure as hell wouldn’t tell Thanatos squat. Which means…”
Travis blinked. He blinked again. He looked like one of those animatronic bears at Disneyland.
“Bradley’s alive?”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” I said. “Unless they found his body. Did they?”
Travis shook his head.
“The lab was a shambles. None of the bodies were intact. The bits and pieces are still being DNA tested so they know which relatives get what.”
“Just suppose Brad wasn’t killed. That he was kidnaped instead.”
“Okay, I’m with you.”
“It’s his virus, right? If he’s alive, he might be our best weapon against Thanatos. Besides, finding him will give me something constructive to do.”
“What if they’re in this together? Brad and Thanatos.”
I shook my head before I remembered I wasn’t supposed to do that. I was delighted that my skull didn’t detach from my spine and roll across the floor.
“I can’t see Bradley Harmon as a bad guy. Oh, he’s arrogant enough. But he’s a complete wimp. He doesn’t have the balls to get involved in something like this. Besides, Thanatos and I connected…”
Travis snorted but I ignored him.
“I feel like I understand him on some kind of deeper level. I’m absolutely positive that he works alone.”
“Are you sure that’s not the little head talking? I mean…” His attention was fixed very intently on the wallpaper. “I know you’d never be unfaithful to Peter but…you’re mighty attracted to him, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I confessed glumly. “I can’t help it.”
“You wouldn’t ever…?”
“Travis Buttrick! You’ve gone and hurt my feelings! Up ’til now, they were the only part of my body that didn’t ache.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I can still fantasize.” I grinned wickedly. “So can Thanatos. And that’s our edge.”
“Huh?”
“Thanatos may have found that my weakness is electricity. Hopefully, he doesn’t yet understand that I’ve also found his. Me.”
“You may think you’re a dynamite piece of ass, Alec. But no roll in the hay is worth twenty-seven million bucks.”
“If Thanatos had to make a choice between the two, I’d agree. But once he knows I’m still alive, I think he’ll make a play for both me and the money. The connection between us is that powerful.”
“Yeah. Right,” he scoffed.
“I’m not exaggerating. You know I’d never cheat on Peter. But I tell ya, Trav, you have no idea how tough it was for me not to rip the guy’s armor off and go at it right on top of the water tower.”
“Do you think maybe he’s using pheromones against you?”
I considered it for a moment and then shook my head.
“I doubt it. The feeling goes both ways. I’m sure of it.”
“If you’re right…and if you can resist your urges better than he can…” His eyes gleamed. “…We have a weapon.”
“We have a weapon,” I agreed.
“Oh! Speaking of weapons, Gretchen slipped me some blood samples from the victims. With any luck, I should be able to isolate the nanoprobes. It’s not much, but it will hopefully confirm our theories at least.”
“W
hat about a vaccine for the virus?”
“That’s way above my pay grade,” Travis said. “The good news is that now that I have the samples, you don’t need to go out and get infected. Just in case Thanatos’ tailor-made something specifically for your body chemistry, I don’t want to risk it.”
“Could he do that?”
“I have no idea. He knew about the electricity and that sure as hell caught me off guard.”
“I was thinking the same thing while sparks were shooting out of my butt. Speaking about things shooting out of my body…”
“Yeah?”
I struggled to swing my legs to the floor but they refused to respond.
“I…er…” My face grew hot as I wondered how to ask what I needed to ask without actually asking. “I need your help. With…you know?”
Travis wasn’t getting the hint.
“I mean…because my legs are all wonky…”
“I haven’t the foggiest…”
“Damn it! I have to pee!” I blurted.
“You don’t honestly expect me to…” He was horrified.
“Just help me to the bathroom,” I grumbled. “I can manage the other part all by myself.”
Chapter Fifteen
There were no banks of computers, no hidden traps, no massive view screens, no missile consoles. There wasn’t even a throne. There was only a plain wooden chair in the middle of a bare room, a simple folding table, and a laptop. Even the computer wasn’t particularly sophisticated.
Thanatos sat in silence, staring at nothing. His thoughts were devoted to pondering what he should do about the dilemma he found himself faced with–the dilemma in the blue tights.
He had only a slight compunction against killing again. By the same token, he hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. Unlike some of the other arch villains that had plagued Centerport, Thanatos did not believe in rampant destruction and mindless mayhem without reason. Nor did he think of himself as a bad man, merely as someone who was driven. Chaos and death, he believed, should be used sparingly, and only if they brought him closer to his goals. Needless cruelty was not his style but, if a few more murders would get what he wanted, so be it.
The need to eliminate the Whirlwind had always been a possibility. If you were going to be a criminal in Centerport, as villains like Destructo, Doctor Dire, and Erica the Eel had discovered to their undoing, you’d have to be an utter fool if you failed to plan against interference from the local hero. Thanatos despised people who meddled in other people’s business, and the Whirlwind was certainly a first-class meddler. He had to be removed from the playing field.
And yet…
He hadn’t counted on the intensity of the attraction between them. It bordered on overwhelming. Fifteen seconds after the Whirlwind showed up in that ridiculously colored costume, Thanatos felt like a school girl, weak-kneed and waiting for the quarterback to ask her to the prom. How had the Whirlwind so effortlessly wormed his way under Thanatos’ skin?
It was hard to deny the purely physical attraction. But that was mere lust; he had certainly overcome lust before. These feelings eclipsed even “chemistry.” The Whirlwind’s mere presence set Thanatos’ thoughts and emotions spinning, spinning, spinning into a whirlwind.
With not a little reluctance, he concluded that the Whirlwind had to go. Even so, he could not help a certain distaste when it came down to the methods he’d have to use. He’d confirmed his suspicions that electricity was the hero’s Achilles Heel, but he found it extremely distasteful to think about charring that perfect body to a crisp. If only he could think of a way to dispose of the pest while still preserving the Whirlwind’s beauty. It was a pity that, as far as Thanatos knew, there was no such thing as a freeze ray. He’d have much preferred to freeze his nemesis in a block of ice so that he could look at him from time to time, and lose himself in what-might-have-beens.
He shuddered. His thoughts were becoming macabre. Enough of these ridiculous fantasies.
A more constructive use of his time would be to double-check that he’d covered his tracks. He could not risk his identity being revealed. Everything he’d worked for would be destroyed. Even the money wouldn’t be able to patch things up.
Twenty-seven million.
He’d chosen that amount with great care. It was low enough that the city wouldn’t balk too badly at paying it, yet large enough to take him away from Centerport. Only then would he be able to banish the memories of a wretched past that gnawed at his soul like a cancer. Managed carefully, it would more than suffice for their needs. Thanatos would never have to work another day in his life; more importantly, neither of them would have to work. The past couldn’t be changed, of course, but with enough money, he could remove all evidence of it and never have to worry about its ugliness again.
But before any of that could come to pass, Thanatos needed to eliminate the Whirlwind.
An idea was taking shape. The abandoned foundry would be the perfect place to do it. The traditional methods, however, would have to be altered; immersing something that was the size of the Whirlwind would be problematic. He seemed to recall that, at one point, Greene Genes had conducted some research into a similar process; with any luck, the necessary equipment would still be in storage. As for the raw materials, well, he wouldn’t need much. They were required only for the final…artistic effect. The process itself would surely be enough to dispatch the Whirlwind.
It was of primary importance to be certain of his technique. Otherwise, he risked botching the whole thing. Fortunately, one could learn how to do just about anything on YouTube. He moved to the laptop and began to type out a query with two fingers.
Perhaps there was a way for him to hang on to the Whirlwind after all.
Chapter Sixteen
“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to go in to work? Can’t Randy handle things?”
It was the third time Pete had asked. If it had been Travis or Gretchen, I would have snapped at them for mollycoddling me. Having Peter fussing over me felt nice.
“I’m fine.”
I stumbled and fell against Peter’s chest. Damn, he smelled good!
Every so often, an agency client will express interest in a fetish known as Man Smell. It rarely takes Sven, the big blond who does most of our specialty work, more than an hour of gym time to create an aroma pungent enough to satisfy even the most extreme afficionado of this particular fetish. Personally, I never understood the appeal of having sex with a guy who stinks like he hasn’t showered since last January. Some guys look great with torsos shining with a sheen of sweat; but that’s mostly in centerfolds and online profiles where you don’t have to smell them.
And yet…
I can’t deny the power of pheromones.
Back when I was hooking, it didn’t matter how hot the guy was, or how much he was willing to pay, if he reeked of stale onions and old gym socks, I took a pass. On the other hand, the way some guys smell drives me wild. Peter is definitely one of them. It doesn’t matter whether he’s just home from the gym, fresh from the shower, or if he’s been stuck in the same business suit all day, Peter always smells like fresh heather. Not foofy or flowery. But natural and clean, with a distinct undertone of maleness. Sexually, it drives me wild, but it’s a comforting smell too. Whenever I’m having trouble sleeping, I just snuggle close enough to breathe Peter in, and I’m out like a light.
We both pass on colognes. We’ve shared enough locker rooms with guys who don’t understand that Halston for Men isn’t cheaper when you buy it by the gallon. It’s terribly unattractive to smell like a flower patch in which a musk deer has vomited up a vanilla cupcake. Antiperspirant, on the other hand, is just good manners.
In any case, my injuries had kept us apart at night and since Pete was smelling especially delicious…
“Hey, none of that,” he chided gently. “You may be feeling better, but you’re still weak.”
He guided me to a chair and eased me into it.
“I don’t lik
e this,” he continued, “If anything comes up, Randy can pick up a phone. That’s what you pay him for.”
“I’ve taken enough time off already. The Belgians are arriving today. They drink very strong coffee and they’re partial to very ripe cheeses, and lots of garlic and onions. Do you know how difficult it is to get the boys to work under those conditions? Randy’s powers of manipulation are legendary. But there’s nothing like being called into the boss’s office to whip a recalcitrant hooker into shape.”
Pete tried another tact.
“What if you’re still contagious? You could infect your staff.”
“I’ll douse myself in Clorox and wear a welding mask.”
My resolve wavered. I would have loved to spend the day curled up in bed next to him. But the Whirlwind needed to get back to work. I was convinced that the only way Thanatos could have known about the hidden safe was if Brad Harmon was still alive. And I’d meant what I’d told Travis; there was no way Bradley would have cooperated willingly. In all likelihood, he was being held hostage somewhere. For all I knew, all that black leather might not have been just for show and Thanatos might have tortured the information out of him. There were a lot of questions, but a few things were clear. I had to locate Bradley Harmon, rescue him, and get him started on undoing the damage he’d done.
In the meantime, I needed to convince Peter to let me leave the house.
“We have a kitchen at the agency and Randy can make chicken soup for me.”
“Randy can cook?”
“He microwaves with reckless abandon. I’ll tell you what…”
I also wanted to make sure that Peter wouldn’t be calling my office every half hour to make sure I was okay, or worse, dropping by to check on me and discovering that I was gone.
“As soon as I’m finished setting up the Belgians, I will barricade my office, turn off the phones, take a pill and crash on the couch.”
“Under warm blankets?”
“The souvenirs Jackson brought us from Mexico.”
