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

by Jennifer Estep

  Sighing, I looked at the man sitting beside Fiona. He had the same blue eyes that she did and a kind, middle-aged face.

  “And let me guess,” I said. “The Bigtime Police Department is involved in the toy drive as well.”

  “That’s right, Carmen,” Chief Sean Newman, aka Mr. Sage, said in his Irish brogue. “The police department chipped in a nice sum of money to help buy toys, clothes, food, and even some school supplies to benefit needy kids and their families.”

  “I get what a great cause it is, but I still don’t understand where I fit into all this,” I said.

  “The owners of Oodles o’ Stuff ask the Fearless Five to safeguard the toys every year,” another male voice cut in.

  My gaze went to the fifth and final person sitting at the table, a gorgeous man with black hair and the most beautiful gray eyes I’d ever seen. Sam Sloane, aka Striker, the leader of the Fearless Five—and my husband.

  Sam’s eyes softened as he looked at me, and I knew I had the same sort of dreamy expression on my face. We’d been through so much together, and I still couldn’t believe how much I loved Sam—and was even more amazed that he loved me just as much in return.

  Fiona noticed us gazing at each other and snorted. “Oh, give it a rest, you two. You’ve been married for months now. It is definitely time to get over the honeymoon phase. Or at least stop doing it where anyone can walk in on you. I so do not need to see Sam’s naked ass again.”

  Sam winked at me, and a hot blush spread across my cheeks as I remembered exactly what we’d been doing when Fiona found us in the upstairs living room last week. Heat filled Sam’s eyes, making them gleam bright silver, and I knew he was thinking what a shame it was that she’d interrupted us.

  Henry cleared his throat. “Anyway, it’s only three days until Christmas, which means all the toys and other donations have come in and are on display inside Oodles for everyone to see. Every year, we take turns watching over the toys on Christmas Eve to make sure that everything’s there when the kids and their parents come to the store on Christmas morning to get their presents.”

  Fiona stuffed the last bite of cheeseburger into her mouth, then balled up the empty wrapper with one hand. A second later, her fist erupted into flames, and the paper disintegrated into ash. Fiona dusted off her hands, then pointed her finger at me.

  “And since you’re the rookie superhero on the team, you get to guard the toys this year,” she said. “Especially since I covered for Sam last year when he wanted to spend the night with you instead of doing his job.”

  Sam shrugged and gave me a guilty, slightly sheepish look.

  “I’m not a rookie,” I muttered. “I’ve been a member of the Fearless Five for more than a year now. Besides, do we really need to do this? Because stealing toys from a bunch of needy kids would be pretty low, even by ubervillain standards.”

  The other superheroes just looked at me.

  Right. Dumb question. There was nothing that ubervillains wouldn’t do, and the more outrageous and over-the-top their scheme was, the more maniacal pleasure they derived from it. Ubervillains were exceptionally creative, in an ultimate evil, city-leveling, world-domination sort of way.

  My eyes dropped to the F5 insignia carved into the wooden table. The overhead lights made the symbol gleam with a soft, golden glow, until it almost seemed like an eye staring steadily at me, reminding me that I’d decided to become a superhero to serve the greater good and make up for my past mistakes. Even if the job wasn’t always fun or glamorous.

  I sighed again. “All right, all right. I guess toy patrol is a job for Karma Girl after all.”

  Fiona gave me an evil grin. “You’d better believe it, rookie.”

  * * *

  Our evening briefing over, Fiona, Henry, and the chief headed back into the city to their apartments for the night, while Sam and I turned off the lights and closed the doors to the underground library that served as the Fearless Five’s supersecret headquarters. Then, we rode the hidden elevator up to the wine cellar and went into the part of the house that was aboveground—if you could call Sublime a mere house.

  Sam’s mansion on the outskirts of Bigtime looked more like a museum than a place where someone actually lived. Paintings, sculptures, suits of armor, and other art objects could be found in every room, along with antique furniture in a variety of styles. Gilded mirrors hung on the walls, all the better to reflect back the soft white light cast out by the glittering crystal chandeliers high overhead.

  I’d been living here ever since Sam and I had gotten married back in May, and I just couldn’t quite get used to all the grandeur. Every day, I found something new to take my breath away, and I still wasn’t comfortable sitting on most of the furniture, no matter how many times Sam told me that’s what it’s there for.

  Sam and I ate a quick dinner of five-cheese lasagna, garlic breadsticks, and a garden salad we’d had delivered from Quicke’s restaurant, then went upstairs to our bedroom.

  I lay on the king-size bed and watched Sam carry his suitcase out from one of the closets. We each had our own walk-in closet, but the clothes inside couldn’t have been more different. Sam was all about his business suits, while I went for faded comfort with my jeans and T-shirts.

  Sam put the suitcase on a settee at the foot of the bed, then went back into the closet and started carrying out shirts, socks, ties, and everything else he would need for his trip.

  “I wish you weren’t traveling so close to Christmas,” I said.

  “Me too,” Sam said. “But it can’t be helped. I want to get the merger done before everything shuts down for the holidays.”

  In addition to being a superhero, Sam happened to be one of the richest men in Bigtime, with business interests all over the world. One of his London-based companies was in the process of taking over another, smaller company, and Sam needed to be on hand to make sure the deal went through without a hitch.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d gone away on business, but with Christmas only a few days away, there was a very real chance he wouldn’t make it home for the holiday. I’d thought about going with Sam but hadn’t been able to get any time off, because everybody on the Bigtime society circuit had decided to throw their holiday party, fundraiser, or music gala in the last few days. Today alone, I’d covered two food drives and a charity art auction.

  Oh, I knew that I could have just quit my job when I married Sam. In fact, I still got questions as to why I hadn’t, from the more nosy society types like Joanne James. Despite the fact that Sam was a billionaire and could give me anything I ever wanted, I liked working. It gave me a sense of accomplishment and purpose, even if I was just covering the society beat these days, and not exposing heroes and villains like I used to.

  Still, the thought of missing Christmas with Sam made me frown, especially because this would be our first one as a married couple. Sam must have sensed my melancholy; he stopped packing, sat down on the bed, and gathered me into his arms.

  I knew what he saw when he looked at me—auburn hair, blue eyes, a nice smile. Pretty enough, but nothing special. Still, whenever I was in Sam’s arms, I felt like so much more, like I was the most gorgeous woman in Bigtime, instead of just Carmen Cole, lowly society reporter and newbie superhero.

  “Don’t worry,” Sam said. “I’ll be home for Christmas, just like the song says. No matter what.”

  “Promise?” I whispered.

  “Promise.” He gave me a sexy grin. “And you know as a superhero, I always keep my word.”

  My heart warmed with love for him. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that Sam and I were actually married. We wouldn’t have even gotten together in the first place if Malefica, the leader of the Terrible Triad ubervillain team, hadn’t threatened to drop me into a vat of radioactive goo if I didn’t discover who Striker—who Sam—really was. Of course, I’d gotten doused in radioactive goo anyway, but Sam and I had fallen in love along the way—something I was grateful for every day, but espe
cially at Christmastime.

  Sam leaned over and pressed a kiss to my lips. “What I really wish is that I didn’t have such an early flight. There’s nothing I’d love more than to spend the morning in bed with you.”

  I looked at him, at his handsome face, his quicksilver eyes, and the black hair that flopped over his forehead—and a different kind of heat filled my veins.

  “Well, why don’t we make the most of tonight then,” I murmured, slipping his suit jacket off his muscled shoulders. “And just think, this time, Fiona’s not around to interrupt us.”

  Answering heat flared to life in Sam’s eyes, turning them a stormy shade of gray that made me shiver with anticipation. His arms tightened around me, and I leaned back on the bed, drawing him down with me. His lips captured mine, desire sparked between us, and we both promptly forgot all about his trip and everything else.

  Chapter Two

  Just before nine o’clock on Christmas Eve, Henry pulled the Fearless Five van up to the sidewalk outside the Oodles o’ Stuff department store.

  Calling Oodles a mere store was like saying that Sublime was just a really big house. Oodles soared into the Bigtime skyline and featured every consumer good you could possibly need or want, from the economical to the outlandish, with the prices to match. Jewelry, makeup, shoes, clothes, electronics, books, music, movies, housewares, and more filled the store’s many levels, with every item seemingly featured in a larger and more elaborate display than the last.

  Light from the store spilled out into the street. Through the glass windows, I could see a crowd of shoppers inside, all needing to get a few last-minute presents before the store closed for the night.

  I sat in the passenger’s seat next to Henry, with Chief Newman riding in the back of the van. We were all in costume tonight—Hermit in his checkered, black-and-white outfit; Mr. Sage in his green-and-white costume; and me in my silver spandex. While I was guarding the toys, Hermit and Mr. Sage were going to do one last patrol through the city, making sure no one was stranded and that folks got home safely from their holiday celebrations.

  “Now, just remember to call us if you have any problems,” Mr. Sage said.

  I leaned down and patted the side of my right boot, where my cell phone was hidden in a special pocket. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you guys programmed into my speed dial just like always.”

  “Have fun,” Hermit said. “And try not to play with too many of the toys, okay?”

  I grinned at him. “I’ll do my best. Although I need something to do to while away the hours.”

  I got out of the van and shut the door behind me. I waved to Hermit and Mr. Sage before turning, crossing the sidewalk, and pushing through the revolving doors that led into the store.

  For a moment, I stood by the entrance, looking for telltale splashes of color among the shoppers, but I didn’t see any bold blues, plummy purples, or outrageous oranges that would indicate there were any other heroes and villains here tonight. Oodles might have acres of merchandise, but what made the store really unique was that it was one of the few places in Bigtime that was considered neutral territory. Both superheroes and ubervillains could shop for whatever they needed at the store without fear of being hauled off by the police or worse—attacked by their fellow heroes and villains.

  And the Oodles owners made sure to cater to their powerful clientele by carrying a wide selection of spandex, boots, capes, and masks, all in a variety of neon, sequined, and pastel prints, colors, and patterns. The Oodles owners knew that heroes and villains had cash to spend just like everyone else, and having them in the store attracted even more customers. Folks like those in Slaves for Superhero Sex, a group devoted to scoring with the city’s various heroes and villains, even if they had to put themselves in ridiculously dangerous situations to get noticed.

  Yes, superheroes and ubervillains were a common sight at Oodles, but that didn’t mean people didn’t notice me as I walked deeper into the store.

  “Hey, look! It’s Karma Girl!” someone said.

  Murmurs and excited whispers rippled through the throngs of holiday shoppers, and it took me a second to realize they were actually talking about me. I’m still not used to everything about this superhero gig, especially strolling around in skintight silver spandex for everyone to see. Let’s just say that I’ve started paying a lot more attention to my diet and exercise routines since I’ve become Karma Girl. Not that it helped much, especially when Sam kept getting barbecue flown in from this restaurant called the Pork Pit down in Ashland, but a girl had to try.

  I stopped a minute, struck a pose, and let everyone who wanted to snap a few photos with their cell phones. It didn’t take long, because I wasn’t nearly as popular as Fiona was as Fiera. The fanboys absolutely loved her long blond hair and big blue eyes, not to mention the oh-so-impressive way she filled out her costume. Me? Well, let’s just say my physique isn’t nearly as pinup-worthy as Fiera’s.

  Once I’d smiled for the cameras, I walked to the center of the first floor, where the toy drive had been set up. From the photos Henry had shown me, I’d expected a simple bin crammed full of toys—but it was so much more.

  A series of glass and metal balconies in this part of the store let shoppers on the upper floors look all the way down to the first level. A massive, metal Christmas tree had been erected in the middle of the open-air space, stretching all the way up to the store’s top floor. But it wasn’t your traditional Christmas tree, because instead of ornaments, toys dangled from its many branches.

  Trucks, cars, model tanks, board games, baseballs, miniature tea sets, coloring books, action figures, chemistry kits, bikes, skateboards—all that and more had been hung on the tree. Mixed in with the toys, I saw some of the clothes that Fiona and Bella had donated. Underneath the tree, Chief Newman’s boxes of food and school supplies had been wrapped in bright paper and stuffed into red Santa sacks. Sparkling red and silver velvet ribbons had been wound through the toys, tightly securing them to the tree, and crystal stars shimmered here and there on the branches. Another, larger star topped the tree, sending out sparks of rainbow color in every direction. All put together, it was one of the most dazzling displays I’d ever seen.

  My breath caught in my throat in wonderment, and for a moment, I felt like a kid again, giddy with excitement about what might be under the Christmas tree or hidden in my stocking.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” a soft, feminine voice murmured.

  I turned to find Abby Appleby standing beside me. Abby was a pretty woman, with brown hair and pale green eyes. She also was an event planner known throughout Bigtime for her ability to get things done—no matter what.

  I liked Abby. She planned lots of the society events that I covered for The Exposé, and I found her to be smart and funny, if a little tightly wound. According to Henry, Abby had been hired to plan the toy drive this year, and it was on track to be the biggest success ever, thanks to her tireless efforts.

  “I thought we’d do something special with the toys this year, instead of just piling them on top of each other or wrapping them up and hiding them from sight,” Abby said. “This way, everyone can enjoy them, especially the kids when they come into the store in the morning.”

  My eyes traced over the tree again, and I realized that it had to be made out of solidium to support the weight of all the toys, clothes, and other items. The metal glistened underneath the red, green, and silver holiday lights wrapped around the branches.

  I shook my head. “It’s amazing. Absolutely amazing. You’ve outdone yourself again, Abby.”

  She frowned a little. As Abby and Carmen, we were friends, and I realized that I’d spoken to her that way instead of being the mysterious hero with the supersecret identity. She looked at me a second longer, obviously wondering at the familiar tone in my voice, but shrugged it off. Abby was used to dealing with superheroes and their quirks at the events she planned. Besides, she knew as well as I did that more than one well-to-do businesswoman on the society c
ircuit moonlighted as a hero or villain in her spare time.

  Abby pulled a cell phone out of one of the pockets on the khaki mesh vest she wore over her green sweater and black pants. She tapped a few buttons on her phone. “And you are right on schedule. I like that about you, Karma Girl. I’m glad you’re here tonight and not Fiera. She’s never on time for anything, and she always ends up melting something before the event is over. Her temper’s as fiery as her fists.”

  I hid a grin at Abby’s rather apt description of Fiona.

  “Anyway, I’m out of here for the night,” Abby said. “We’re locking the doors in five minutes. I don’t think you’ll have any problems, but you never know. Obviously, you can take care of yourself, and of course you can always call in the other members of the Fearless Five if anything happens.”

  “Of course,” I murmured.

  I didn’t tell Abby that everyone else was busy tonight. Sam was away on business, Fiona was spending some time with the Bullucis, and Henry and the chief were doing their sweep of the city. Besides, I didn’t plan on contacting the others unless I absolutely had to. I didn’t want to give Fiona any more excuses to keep ribbing me about being a rookie superhero, and calling in the crime-fighting cavalry on Christmas Eve would give her ammunition for weeks. I might be relatively new at this superhero gig, having only been wearing my silver spandex a little more than a year, but I still had my pride.

  “Don’t worry,” I said in my most confident, earnest, sincere, authoritative superhero voice. “I’ll take care of the toys. I want those kids to have a great Christmas just as much as you do.”

  Abby nodded, satisfied. She gave me a final smile then strolled down the store’s center aisle, heading for the front doors.