Heroes Without, Monsters Within

by Sheryl Nantus

  “I’ve visited. Before and after the Agency.” Leaving that conversation behind, I tapped my cheek, mentally opening the link to the Lair. “Jessie? We’re on the ground in Vegas. Give me something, please.”

  “Hit the tables yet?”

  “Hungry for a raise?” I grinned, forgetting that he couldn’t see me. “I’ll put a bet on double zero for you when we catch a chance, ’kay?”

  “Great. Papa needs a new motherboard…” he laughed, “…and I’ll pay you back.”

  “You sure will. I take ten percent, before taxes.”

  His voice turned serious. “We had a series of small seismic events just to the north of Vegas. That’s what led us here. Nothing in the past hour, so my best guess is that he’s standing still for some reason. Or he’s hopped onto a cart or something. You got camels out there?”

  “Can you give me a more definite location?” I looked through the window at the news crew still pressed against the fence. Hunter strode towards us with a wide smile.

  “Nothing yet, we just had enough to pin down the general area. And if he’s on the move, it won’t make a difference.”

  “I don’t want to flounder around in the desert looking for him,” I said. “Not to mention he’ll have the first shot if he wants it if he sees us coming. I’d like to avoid a direct confrontation until I get a chance to talk to him.” The choices weren’t great so I chose the lesser evil. “We’ll stay put in Vegas until you get another hit.” I paused, trying to figure out how to phrase the next question. “How come we have media all over us? How’d they know we were even landing here? I didn’t know until Hunter woke me up.”

  The silence said it all.

  “You’re kidding,” I moaned. “You ratted us out?”

  David’s voice came over the link, a calming tone trying to work its magic on me. “Jo, you can’t just fly around the country without some sort of cover story. Supers don’t just sightsee. The Agency figured that you needed some reason to be showing up in Nevada.”

  My heart sank. “We’re in Las Vegas. Everyone goes to Las Vegas. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” I sputtered. “We’re people too.”

  Hunter burst through the double doors with a grin. “Honey, I’m home!” he yelled.

  “Outrager put out the rumor that you might or might not be getting married,” David said in my ear. “To Hunter.”

  Steve glanced towards the media van still on the other side of the fence, and laughed. Peter just gazed into the sky with a peaceful expression.

  I covered my face with both hands, wondering if it was too late to switch sides and go be a villain. I could wear the leather, maybe add a mask. And a whip. And a shotgun filled with rock salt.

  “Well, it could be worse,” Peter replied, still eyeing the dispensing machine with a wistful look. “It could be me and Steve.”

  This sent our muscleman into even deeper hysterics, the massive hands wrapped around his middle as he bent over with laughter.

  “He’s just playing hard to get,” Hunter said to Peter in a stage whisper. “Saving himself for marriage.”

  Steve collapsed onto the ground and rolled onto his side, wheezing for air.

  Mike’s old breathing exercises staved off a temper tantrum that would have destroyed most of the building. As it was, my fingers sparked like it was the Fourth of July.

  “Right.” I took a deep breath of dry, hot air. “Peter, please ask your desert friends to look out for this guy. Give them the description and tell them what he does, but no contact on their part. Just find and report, thank you.” My teeth hurt as I ground the words out.

  He nodded, then stared out the windows, eyes seeing farther than I ever could. It was a long shot, but it couldn’t hurt to get the local wildlife on our side.

  I turned my attention to our strongman, who was still chuckling to himself. “Okay, Steve. Time to get to work.”

  He wiped the tears from his eyes and climbed to his feet. He cracked his knuckles with a loud popping sound, making me wince.

  “I’ll get us a taxi or something.” He strode towards the counter and the saucer-eyed woman waiting for him. The man standing beside her grinned as Steve approached.

  Hunter walked towards me, a wary look in his eyes as he spotted the sparks flying from my fingertips. “Don’t kill the messenger. Hammer had the story before I even got to her. I couldn’t exactly deny it without giving another reason about why we’d be here. And it could be worse.”

  “I’m fine.” I held up my hand before he could respond, the last of the temper-tantrum charge dying out. “I really don’t mind being made out to be some slutty woman who takes up with another guy weeks after the death of her boyfriend. Really. Superwhore, at your service.”

  He glared at me. “Jo, it’s not like that. Everyone knew you were with Mike, but not with Mike.” His feet shuffled from side to side, the running shoes squeaking on the clean floor. “I mean, I knew you meant a lot to each other, but part of that was the show.” A panicky look materialized as he fumbled for words. “But it was real, I mean. To him. To you. As much as you wanted it to be. You know what I mean.”

  “The Agency knew. You knew. Do they know? All they know is what we showed them. Think they could tell the difference?” I waved a hand at the media truck outside, the perky blonde reporter now doing a stand-up number on the other side of the fence with her eager cameraman/driver filming her. “Is it really necessary to destroy what little reputation I have left?”

  “Hey, you’ve got a great rep. Remember, you’re the one who saved the world and put this team together. No one’s going to forget that, even for a cheap sound bite from a gossip queen.” Hunter grabbed a fast kiss. “Don’t worry about it.”

  I looked towards the desk. Steve stood there with a blank expression as a man chattered at him. The woman behind the counter ignored them, studying her computer monitor.

  “Speaking of saving…” I moved towards the pair.

  The man stopped his patter when I approached, deciding instead to greet me with a wide smile. He was in a light blue polo shirt and black pants, a stitched casino logo over his heart declaring his loyalty. Light peach fuzz on his chin along with a few pimples showed his age, making me feel mine.

  “You must be Surf.” The business cards materialized in his hand like a magician’s deck of cards. “Jeffrey O’Neill. Two L’s. I’m here representing the Top Row Casino.”

  I accepted the card. Steve looked at his as if he expected it to change into a rabbit any second.

  “We’d like to offer the Protectors a place to stay while you’re in Las Vegas.” A light sheen of sweat on his forehead signaled his nervousness. “No charge, of course.”

  “Really.” I tried not to sound too surprised. Behind me Peter let out a sound, something between a giggle and a whoop of joy. Steve continued to study the card, turning it over and over in his hand.

  “Really.” Jeffrey’s smile grew to a point where I wondered if he’d had plastic surgery to spread his lips so wide.

  “We do need a hotel.” Hunter stepped up beside me. “We can’t stay on the plane.” His voice dropped towards a lion’s purr. “Bet it’s air-conditioned.”

  Sweat trickled down my back, pooling at the base of my spine. I tucked the business card into my front pocket. “I see no reason why we can’t partake of your facilities while we’re in town. We’re just visiting and all that, you know.”

  “Of course. Anything you say. We’re pleased to have you with us.” Jeffrey looked as if he were about to faint. Score one for age over youth. He spun around and waved his arms towards the black stretch limo waiting outside the terminal.

  I swept by him like royalty. Never let it be said that I didn’t know how to work a crowd.

  Steve fell into step beside me as we advanced on the car. He grinned. “I’ve never been here before. Is the city nice?”

  “Very.” I eyeballed the bright lights and tall buildings. “But it’ll break your heart if you let it.”

>   The limo could have carried us, a flock of Canada geese and a herd of beavers without anyone having to touch each other. As we eased our way onto the Strip, Peter pressed his face against the window, mouth slightly ajar.

  “Wow,” he murmured. Steve was busy doing the same on the other side of the limo.

  Hunter snickered.

  I sighed. “Okay, listen up. Here are the ground rules. It’s coming up on two o’clock here. Four hours in the casino, max, and do not get into any fights, please—you know there’s going to be someone looking for a brawl because of who and what we are. No ‘visitors’ up to the suite, and don’t leave the hotel grounds. There’s going to be other hotels trying to poach us, but we’re friends with the puppy here and here we stay. Stay frosty, keep your eyes open, and be back in the suite by six. Be ready to split at any time. If we get a call about Lamarr, we’re leaving in a hurry, so don’t get too comfortable.”

  I turned my gaze on Steve. He was huffing into the palm of his hand, checking his breath. “You. Watch out for the girls.” I sighed again. “And please don’t get drunk.”

  “Don’t know if I can.” He smiled, showing off teeth as white as his pristine T-shirt. “Haven’t had a good solid drunk for weeks now. Might have forgotten how to.”

  “Don’t try. And you,” I said to Peter, “same rules. Watch out for the boys. Don’t believe for a minute that mantra about what stays in Vegas. Still plenty of homophobic idiots out there. Set you up for something nasty in a back alley somewhere.”

  The slightest edge of a pout brushed his lips before he burst into laughter. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Jo. Still…” His attention wavered as a stretch Hummer pulled alongside us, the tinted windows hiding whoever was trying to spy on us through our own darkened glass. “Be nice to have a little calm before the storm.”

  “Just don’t get too calm,” I warned. “Remember we’re here on a mission. As soon as Jessie gets a lead on Lamarr we’re out of here.”

  “But establish a nice cover story for the press,” Hunter interjected. He seemed immune to my death stare. “Remember, we’re here to rest up from our rescue effort. But feel free to gush about the cover story.”

  I tugged on the door handle closest to me. Maybe if I threw myself out under the slow-moving traffic…

  “I already locked them,” Hunter added, tapping the console set in the floor between us. “So just sit back and enjoy the ride.” He stretched out his long legs before putting his hands behind his head. “Read ’bout this place in USA Today. The Top Row is a nice hotel. Good nightclub. Excellent food.”

  My stomach growled. I hushed it by chewing on my jacket sleeve, working out both my hunger and my annoyance at the same time.

  The limo slipped through the stop-and-go traffic with ease, sliding up to the front of the hotel where a slew of valets waited along with one large doorman who smiled at us with perfect teeth. He opened the door with a polite nod while the valets shuffled their feet, useless with our lack of luggage.

  Jeffrey popped out from the front seat and herded us through the lobby into a side elevator and up to our suite before I could blink. The kid could hustle. A few flashes went off from surprised hotel visitors, and I had no doubt that before we unlocked the door there’d be pics up online of us.

  It hadn’t been like this when Mike and I had visited. We’d gotten the nice welcome at the front door, but with neither of us being Alphas it’d been more of a frequent-visitor treatment instead of superstar.

  I liked superstar. Call me shallow.

  Jeffrey fumbled for a second with the cardkey and then threw the door open with another wide grin. “Anything you want, call down to the desk and we’ll get it for you. Anything.” He gave a none-too-subtle wink to the men behind me. I suppressed the urge to ask for a gigolo.

  He pressed four keycards into my hand as the rest of the team walked by, Peter and Steve staggering like drunks entering the biggest brewery in the world and Hunter adding a bit of a swagger to his step. It was like being an extra in an MTV reality show.

  “Anything,” Jeffrey repeated and then he was gone. Add street ninja to the pup’s resume. I followed the boys in.

  “Wow,” Peter mumbled.

  We all stood just inside the door for a second, absorbing the scene.

  The suite was, in a word, over-the-top, drop-dead gorgeous. It must have been the Party ’til You Drop and Then Some Suite because there were enough bedrooms for all of us, different areas laid out in arms branching out from the main living room. The widescreen television on the wall could have filled the Lair from end to end. The burgundy sofa and chairs reminded me of an interior decorating magazine, and I felt dirty just glancing at the immaculate leather.

  Steve let out something between a whistle, a sigh and a whimper as we stared at the screen. He glanced down at the remote control on the black ebony table and then at me.

  I smiled. “I think we’ve all got a set in our rooms. But you can take this one out for a test drive, if you’re not going downstairs right away.”

  He looked at the screen, chewing on his bottom lip in a full-blown male sportgasm. Peter dashed for the far room, jumping over a footstool with a yelp. “My name’s on this one!” True enough, a gold-embossed placard attached to the bedroom door announced “Peter Boyos” in all its glory.

  “Must have called it in from the car on the drive over here.” Hunter turned around. “Gee, we’ve all got our own room. Even you, Jo.” He sounded disappointed. “No doubling up here.”

  I put the palm of my right hand to my forehead, ignoring the unasked question. “What are we doing here again?” Varying sounds of glee and awe came from Peter’s room.

  “Establishing a cover story for being in the area,” Hunter said with a nod towards Steve, who had settled down on the obscenely long couch. “Right now we’re grabbing all the media attention because we’re the only supers around. It was fine when we had plenty of teams available, Guardians and supers running around in different cities and full-time coverage of the fights, but we’re all there is now. And everyone wants to know what the Protectors are doing.”

  “Outrager’s pushing it,” I snapped. “I want him gone when we get back.”

  Hunter tilted his head to one side with a sly smile. “And what if we get someone worse? Know your enemy and all that.”

  I opened my mouth, thinking of something witty to say. A second later my lips snapped shut with a slap.

  I had nothing. Hunter was right. I could toss Outrager as our Agency liaison with a phone call, but I didn’t know anyone trustworthy at the Agency. None of us did, not even Hunter who had been a fricking Guardian. Sometimes you did have to dance with the devil.

  Peter popped out of his room and dashed back into the center room. He skidded to a stop and struck a pose in front of the three of us.

  He had changed out of the black T-shirt and jeans into a snappy white dress shirt and dark brown slacks. The sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows and the front buttons tastefully open to show just enough bare skin to send a guy’s heart a-flutter. Heck, it sent mine a-flutter, and I was in cougar territory.

  “The closets are loaded with clothing. All in my size.”

  I didn’t even have to ask. “Let me guess, all freebies by the manufacturers as well? Arranged while we were still in the air?”

  Hunter shrugged with his hands outstretched. “And you’re surprised? Probably had the vans roll in here while we were waiting for landing clearance.”

  “Ah…” Peter patted his pockets, his cheeks turning red. “I didn’t exactly plan for this.” He pulled out a woefully thin wallet.

  I winced inside. We’d received a monthly allowance from the Agency while we’d been their slaves, enough to pay for the odd shopping trip and anything that wasn’t standard issue to keep us alive. But that’d all disappeared when we’d gained our freedom and we’d been cut off from all funding, including any savings accumulated along the way.

  We’d received large donations
of food and supplies at the Lair from supporters, but cold hard cash hadn’t been one of them. David doled out money he claimed had been donated to him on his supply runs, but I suspected he’d been dipping into his retirement fund. Unfortunately, sticking a donation box on the front of the bookstore wasn’t an option. I made a mental note to discuss it with Outrager on our return. The bastards made millions exploiting us, the least they could do is keep us in pocket change.

  “Who did?” I looked at Hunter. “Can I assume that the hotel has a credit line set up for us downstairs?”

  The annoying grin on his face said it all. I turned my attention to Peter, who looked like he was about to burst. “Okay, but don’t go into the red more than, say, ten thousand. And remember what I said about the groupies.” I felt like a mother sending her innocent children out to play in traffic near a dog park wearing meat jackets.

  Peter took one of the keycards out of my hand and leapt towards the door. “Later.”

  “Stay safe,” I shouted to the back of the door as it clicked shut.

  I glared at Hunter. “This can only get worse.”

  Steve squirmed on the couch, avoiding my eyes. His thick fingers danced over the remote, not activating the power.

  I sighed. I didn’t need a superpower to tell what he was thinking. “Go get changed into some new clothing and have some fun.”

  He flew out of the cushions and off into another room. I turned on Hunter. “This is getting out of hand.”

  “No, it’s not.” His firm tone startled me, a sharp change from only a few minutes ago. “Look, the fellows have been running full tilt since the big fight last month. Photo ops, interviews, and now this. They need a break.” His eyes locked with mine. “You need a break.”

  I waved both hands at the large windows showing a perfect view of the Vegas skyline. “We’re tracking a rogue super. Who could kill hundreds, maybe thousands if he sets off a quake here.”

  Hunter moved towards me, his hands going around my waist. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine. “And we’re going to find him and talk to him. That’s what you want, right?”