The Bigtime Series (Bigtime superhero series, e-bundle)

by Jennifer Estep

  His eyes widened. Fear and panic shimmered in the blue depths. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? I won’t tell anybody your real identity. I promise. Trust me. I’m good at keeping those kinds of secrets.”

  Fiona and the other members of the Fearless Five could testify to that. Actually, my whole family could back up my statement.

  Debonair mumbled something.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  He stared at me. “I can’t tell you who I really am because you won’t feel the same way about me as you do about Debonair.” Bitterness tinged his voice.

  “How do you know what I’ll think of the real you?”

  He looked away. “I just know.”

  I stared at him. “I do know you, don’t I? I know who you are, the real you. Do you think I’m that shallow? That I won’t like you just because you’re not wearing a sexy costume?”

  He gave me a sad smile. “I know it. And that’s the problem, Bella. I’m not who you think I am. Not really. Not at all, actually. This is just a disguise, a show. Nothing else. It’s not the real me, just someone I like to pretend that I am.”

  I wondered at his words. He sounded so alone, so forlorn I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him it didn’t matter who he was underneath all the leather, that I’d like him anyway. But I couldn’t do that. I had to stick to my rules. Had to be strong. Had to resist the temptation in front of me.

  Debonair pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist. My pulse thrummed in response. Suddenly, I didn’t want him to go. I wanted him to stay. With me. If only to talk. Or do nothing at all. I opened my mouth to ask him to when—

  POP!

  He teleported away.

  Leaving me alone.

  Again.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next day, I started to the museum to check on the damage. But Bobby didn’t want me to go anywhere because of Hangman, and I agreed to spend one more day at home.

  The doorbell rang around nine o’clock, just as Grandfather and I finished up a late breakfast of whole wheat waffles, low-fat turkey bacon, and fresh grapefruit.

  “Who could that be?” I asked, nervous.

  “Don’t worry, Bella,” Bobby said, getting to his feet. “Hangman wouldn’t be so considerate as to ring the bell.”

  He had a point. Ubervillains didn’t usually knock when they stormed into your house. Superheroes didn’t either. In fact, the front gate still creaked from where Fiera had ripped it off its hinges a few months ago when she’d decided to pay us a visit in the middle of the night.

  Still, I didn’t let Grandfather go to the door alone. I might have been scared of Hangman, but I wasn’t about to let Bobby risk his life defending me.

  Bobby made his way to the front door and reached for the knob.

  “Wait a minute. Aren’t you even going to look out and see who is it?” I asked, coming up behind him and trying to squint through the curtains.

  Bobby gave me an amused look. “You worry too much, Bella. It’s not Hangman. Even if it were, I doubt a simple door would stop him.”

  He had another point, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. So, I grabbed a tall, black umbrella from the silver stand by the door and held it out like a sword, ready to shove the heavy point into someone’s stomach. An umbrella wasn’t a traditional weapon, but, in my hands, just about anything could be deadly. Another rare upside of having luck as a superpower. After all, I was the woman who could make steel pots explode and chandeliers fall just by looking at them. I could skewer a wild boar with the umbrella if things went just my way. Besides, if the umbrella didn’t scare off Hangman, my out-to-there hair surely would.

  Bobby shook his head and opened the door. To my surprise, Joanne James and Berkley Brighton stood outside.

  “Bella, darling!” Joanne said, swooping on me like a perfumed, couture-clad vulture. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” I twitched my nose to keep from sneezing.

  Joanne air-kissed both my cheeks and stepped back. Her eyes flicked to the umbrella, then back outside. Sunlight flooded the hall where we stood, warming my toes through my thick, wool socks.

  My face flushed, and I stuck the umbrella back in the stand by the door. At least, I tried to. The static crackled around me. Every time I attempted to slide the umbrella back into place, the tip caught on the edge and made a loud, ear-splitting clang. The third time I tried, the umbrella popped open and refused to close. Finally, I gave up and tossed the open umbrella outside. The wind picked it up and carried it farther down the driveway. I glared at the hateful thing. The umbrella could stay out there for all I cared, along with those stupid apples I hadn’t been able to find.

  “How are you really, Bella?” Berkley asked in a kind, concerned tone once I’d shut the door. The short businessman came over and gave me a quick hug.

  “I’m really fine, Berkley. But thanks for asking.” I stepped back and smiled at him. “What brings you two here?”

  “Why, you, of course,” Joanne said, as if the answer should be obvious.

  I opened my mouth, but Joanne had already gone on the offensive. She moved farther into the house as if it were hers instead of ours. I looked at Grandfather. He just grinned and shrugged. Grandfather had always had a thing for strong, take-charge women. Berkley smiled too, amused by his wife’s antics.

  The three of us followed Joanne, who strolled into the downstairs living room. She plopped on the love seat in the corner and patted the cloud-covered cushion next to her. Berkley gracefully took that spot. He put his arm around her shoulders, and Joanne leaned back against his chest.

  Grandfather took a seat on the matching couch—the same couch I’d found him on with Grace Caleb yesterday. I started to sit down but thought better of it. Instead, I perched on the edge of the coffee table. I wasn’t sitting on that couch again. At least, not until I’d had it reupholstered.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked the couple. “Coffee? Tea? Juice?”

  “No, thanks,” Joanne said. “We can’t stay long. We have a lunch date.”

  “Oh? With whom?” I asked.

  Joanne looked up into Berkley’s face and smiled. “With each other.”

  She snuggled a little closer to him, and I thought back to the day I’d found them making out in the library. I hoped they weren’t going to give me a repeat show. Otherwise, I’d have to have that love seat reupholstered, too. Given how amorous Fiona and Johnny were, I might as well do the rest of the furniture while I was at it.

  “We just wanted to come by and see how you were, Bella,” Berkley replied, his blue eyes catching mine. “It couldn’t have been easy for you, being caught between the Fearless Five and Hangman at the museum.”

  “It certainly wasn’t easy for us, realizing the sapphire had been taken,” Joanne added. “I’m just glad my velvet Elvis painting was locked away in the vault. Otherwise, it might have been damaged like so many of the other pieces were.”

  My eyes widened. With everything that had been going on, I’d completely forgotten about Berkley. And the fact that he was probably wondering what had happened to his prize possession.

  “I’m so, so sorry. I should have called you. The sapphire—”

  Berkley waved his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ve already had several conversations with my insurance people. Not that it matters anymore. I got a call this morning from the Fearless Five. They recovered the sapphire and plan on returning it to the museum. So, all’s well that ends well.”

  I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Sam Striker Sloane had probably made the call. At least he’d had the sense to remember to. But there was another question that needed answering.

  “Are you going to leave the gem on display?”

  Berkley opened his mouth, but Joanne cut him off.

  “Well, I think he should have it shipped back to Brilliance where it belongs,” she grumbled. “Where it’ll be safe.”

  Berkley squeezed her arm. “Now, J
oanne, you know we can’t do that. The whole point was to let other people see the stone and to raise money for the museum. They’ll need the money now more than ever. Arthur Anders has assured me that he’ll take appropriate measures to increase security. The important thing is that no one was injured. If I’d been there, I would have gladly given Hangman the sapphire to keep him from harming Bella or anyone else.”

  My throat closed up, and I couldn’t speak. Berkley had always been so kind to me. Most men would have been yelling and screaming and demanding their property be returned immediately after the fiasco at the museum. Instead, Berkley was willing to risk the loss of the sapphire again. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Berkley could afford to buy a dozen Star Sapphires. But his generosity still touched me.

  “Thank you, Berkley,” I said, leaning over and squeezing his hand. “I’m sure Arthur appreciates your trust and good faith. I know I do.”

  “No problem, Bella.” Berkley cleared his throat and looked at Bobby. “Although, I have to admit my interest isn’t entirely selfless. I’ve been thinking about adding another motorcycle to my collection—if I can talk your grandfather into building it for me.”

  Bobby winked. “Of course. What are friends for?”

  We all laughed.

  Talk turned to other things, mainly a business deal Berkley wanted to propose to Johnny when he and Fiona got back from their vacation.

  While the others chatted, I stared at Berkley and Joanne. The two of them had sunk into the soft cushions on the love seat, but they didn’t seem to mind. Their hands were entwined, their bodies flush against each other. They were as close as they could be and still have clothes on.

  They looked so happy together, so comfortable, so in love. It was hard to believe Joanne could care about anyone besides herself, but her affection for Berkley was real. I could see it in her eyes every time she looked at him. Sense it in the way she hovered close to him. Hear it in her voice when she said his name.

  The sight made me think about Debonair. I wondered if I looked and acted the same way whenever I was around the sexy thief. And I couldn’t help but wish he would gaze at me the same adoring way Berkley did at Joanne.

  “Well, I’m afraid we must be going,” Berkley said, interrupting my thoughts. “Like Joanne said, we do have a lunch date.”

  He brought her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. Joanne let out a squeaky noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. Joanne James, giggling? I never thought I’d live to hear that.

  The two of them got to their feet. Bobby followed suit, and so did I.

  At least, I tried to.

  Perhaps it was all my thoughts of Debonair. Or maybe it was just time for another round of bad luck. Either way, my power pulsed. I started to get up, but my feet skidded on the shag carpet and slid out from under me. My butt plopped down on the coffee table—hard. The solid wood let out a low groan, the legs shook, and the top split down the middle.

  The table collapsed and splintered into a hundred pieces. Bits of wood shot out everywhere, pinging off the walls and tinking off the ceiling fan. I knew because I was now flat on my back, staring up at the spinning fan.

  “Bella!” Bobby asked, leaning over me. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure,” I wheezed. “We needed to get a new table anyway.”

  * * *

  Joanne and Berkley left soon after that. People just never stayed around after I had one of my accidents. It took me over an hour to clean up the remains of the coffee table, then another one to fix the mess I’d made cleaning that up.

  By the time I finished, it was lunchtime, and I decided to take a much-needed break. So, I walked out to the orchard behind the house. It wasn’t nearly as big as the acres of gardens out at Sublime, but I admired its quiet beauty just the same. Pear, orange, and other trees towered over me like silent giants. A faint breeze whistled through the grove, rustling the dry leaves and sending them twirling downward like tiny helicopters.

  I leaned back against a pear tree and shut my eyes against the bright glow of the noon sun. Birds twittered in the branches above, while a few bugs droned in the distance. The cool air smelled of damp leaves and turned earth.

  Something crawled across my hand, and I brushed away an ant without even opening my eyes. Determined to have a nice, normal, peaceful lunch, I’d brought a blanket, my sketch pad, and some picnic goodies outside to the orchard. But, of course, my luck decided to assert itself. The plastic plates shattered, splattering me, the blanket, and the surrounding grass with low-fat, sugar-free fruit salad. It really was amazing how far strawberries could bounce, especially considering the fact they weren’t exactly round. My pulverized food had attracted the attention of a colony of ants. But since they seemed content to carry off pulpy bits of orange and pineapple and not swarm all over me, I left them alone. At least someone was going to get properly fed today.

  My fingers traced over the soft, fleecy blanket. The fabric reminded me of Debonair’s skin—only it wasn’t as smooth and warm. For the last hour, I’d tried to concentrate on my sketches, tried to draw the beauty around me, but I kept thinking about the sexy thief and what he’d said last night. His fear that I wouldn’t like the real him as much as I did Debonair.

  His confession had surprised me. Most superhero and ubervillain types were cocky to the extreme, especially the villains. They thought just because they could walk on water or stride through fire or scale skyscrapers that nothing could ever hurt or touch or bother them.

  But Debonair seemed to have more of a split personality than the other heroes and villains I’d encountered. On more than one occasion, he’d almost seemed unsure of himself, hesitant even. I didn’t understand why. He was charming and witty, and women of all ages threw themselves at him. I didn’t understand his insecurities, whatever they were.

  Maybe he thought the idea of Debonair, the memory of our night together, would cloud things between us if he told me who he really was. Maybe it would. I didn’t know.

  But I really wanted to find out.

  I checked my watch. Later. I was going to have to find out later, because I had things to do right now. I got to my feet and picked up the bits of fruit the ants hadn’t carried off. While I worked, another breeze blew through the orchard, bringing something along with it this time—the umbrella I’d tossed out the door this morning. Mouth open, I watched as the umbrella somehow bobbed up and down on the breeze like an oddly shaped kite. But that wasn’t the weirdest thing. The umbrella was still open—and filled with apples. I narrowed my eyes. Apples that looked suspiciously like the ones I’d lost during the trick-or-treat incident several days ago.

  The breeze died down, and the umbrella floated to a stop at my feet, its point sticking into the ground just so.

  “Well, lucky me,” I muttered.

  * * *

  For dinner with Bobby and Grace Caleb, I chose a short, simple, emerald-colored dress that set off my caramel-colored hair and eyes, and fastened my silver angel necklace around my throat. Jasper’s bombastic bracelet hung off my right wrist. I hadn’t taken it off since the bomber had given it to me. Not even when I took a shower.

  There’d been no sign of Hangman or Prism, and I didn’t think I was in any real danger anymore. Everyone knew the Fearless Five had the Star Sapphire and were going to return it to the museum. SNN had run a special report on the latest developments, with Kelly Caleb reading a press release from the superheroes on the evening broadcast. But the way my luck went, the second I decided I didn’t need the bracelet would be the exact moment the ubervillains came after me. So, I kept it on.

  The doorbell rang promptly at eight. Grandfather answered it and led Grace Caleb into the downstairs living room where I waited. Grace looked elegant in a pale lilac-flowered dress that highlighted her silver hair and blue eyes. For once, she wasn’t wearing a sweater. Instead, a lavender shawl wrapped around her bare shoulders while an egg-sized amethyst hung from her throat. A matching purple handbag d
angled from her arm, which was rather well muscled for a woman in her seventies.

  But Grace wasn’t alone.

  Devlin Dash trailed into the room behind her. He wore a classic tuxedo just like Grandfather, although he kept tugging at his tie as if it were strangling him. The gleam from his round glasses made it look like there were two silver coins where his eyes should be.

  “Grace,” Bobby said, kissing her hand. “You are truly a vision.”

  Grace’s eyes slid down my grandfather’s body in a frank, rather hungry way that startled me. “So are you, Bobby.”

  He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Grace giggled in response. I looked at Devlin, who kept yanking at his tie. He avoided my eyes. Bobby cooed more sweet nothings into Grace’s eager ear.

  “Ahem.”

  I cleared my throat, reminding them that there were other people in the room. I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday’s couch incident. That image, unfortunately, would be seared into my brain for many, many days to come.

  “Hello, Bella,” Grace said. “You look wonderful tonight.”

  “Grace. So do you. It’s so nice to see you again.” I wanted to add wearing clothes but decided not to.

  “And of course you know my grandson, Devlin,” Grace said, stepping aside.

  Devlin held out his hand, which I took. He started to raise it to his lips for a chaste kiss but decided against it in mid-flight. Devlin settled for covering my hand with his other one and squeezing it. His fingers bit into my skin, and I winced at his firm grip.

  “Oh! Sorry,” Devlin said in a sheepish tone. He dropped my hand like it burned him. “I don’t know my own strength sometimes.”

  I grimaced and tried not to wring out my hand in front of him. I wouldn’t have thought he would have had such a strong grip. Devlin didn’t strike me as the athletic type. Strange. Very strange.

  I didn’t have time to wonder at Devlin’s sudden show of machismo. Bobby offered Grace his arm and escorted her into the dining room. Devlin did the same for me.

  “You look lovely, Bella,” he said in a low voice. “That color really suits you.”