Amelia?
I stare at the screen, willing her to answer. And there could be a legit reason why she’s not saying anything that doesn’t mean she’s in danger, but I get this awful feeling that that’s not the case. If I’m wrong, she can make fun of me and say I ruined the mission all she wants, but if I’m right... I shove my phone in my pocket and sprint for the door to the back room. I fling it open and run in, electricity already twitching beneath my skin.
“Damien!” Amelia calls out when she sees me, a look of horror on her face. A tall man in a business suit stands behind her. He’s got a tight grip on her forearm and is holding a raygun to her head.
My blood runs cold, but my electricity runs hot. Lightning flows into my hands. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, because zapping the guy holding a gun to my sister’s head—his finger curled on the trigger—might not be the best idea. Then a man’s voice behind me says, “Don’t try anything.”
I can hear him breathing, and I can tell he’s got a weapon pointed at me by the way Amelia’s face turns pale and her eyes well up with tears.
She starts to tell them to leave me alone, but her captor shoves the end of his raygun into the side of her head, and her lip trembles and she doesn’t say anything.
“Amelia! Call it!” I make eye contact with her, willing her to understand. Because she’s touched the raygun, she can summon it to her. But she doesn’t move, either too panicked to understand or too afraid they’ll shoot me as soon as she does.
“We know who you are,” the guy behind me says.
“Yeah, who doesn’t?”
“Take her away.” He makes a gesture with his free hand that I can just see out of the corner of my eye. The guy holding Amelia nods and starts to drag her off down the hall. Panic flickers in her eyes.
“You can’t do that!” I scream at them. “You—”
“Shut up! I have to bring you in alive, but nobody said anything about her. So keep your mouth shut and cooperate. Now come on, let’s go.” He points in the opposite direction of where they took Amelia. “The boss wants to see you.”
Chapter 10
I CONSIDER ZAPPING THE guy behind me, but there’s still the issue of him having his finger on the trigger. Which I’m assuming he does, even though I can’t see him, and even though he said he was supposed to bring me in alive. Electricity crackles along my arms, and all my instincts are telling me to blast him. I could do it without looking. Maybe I could duck right before, so his gun wasn’t pointed straight at me.
Or it could all go horribly wrong, and I’d end up dead, and then there’d be no one to save Amelia.
And then I’d also never find out why some criminal who owns a laundromat wants to see me. I remember my grandpa’s warning, about pissing off people we know. But there’s a chance this boss guy just wants his picture taken with me, right? Or wants me to be their new spokesperson in a commercial? Maybe I can charge him extra for hazard pay.
I’m still mentally playing out all the possible ends to this scenario when we get to our destination. It’s an office.
“Go on,” the guy with the raygun says, indicating I should open the door. I get the feeling that normally he would fling it open and push me in himself, if I wasn’t covered in electricity. “Don’t keep him waiting.”
I could make a run for it. Drop to the ground, zap him, and run like hell. Then figure out where they took Amelia. And I can’t help wondering how this situation would be different if it had been me and Riley instead. But Riley can turn invisible. He wouldn’t have got caught in the first place.
And he probably wouldn’t want me to do anything stupid, like risk getting killed. In the back room of a laundromat, no less. That is not what I want it to say on my obituary.
So I open the door, ignoring the spark when I touch the knob, and step inside.
“He’s all yours, boss,” the guy with the raygun says before leaving and closing the door behind him.
The “boss” is sitting behind the desk, in one of those big leather rotating chairs, with his back to me. Like this is a James Bond movie and he’s going to turn around and be petting some cat. Or one of his eyes will just be a big diamond or something. So, definitely someone eccentric. And possibly theatrical. Who knows who I am. But that could be anybody, considering how many people have seen those videos of me on YouTube. Or on the news. Which really only supports my theory about him wanting me for a commercial.
“Damien,” he says.
I know that voice. It sounds, just a little bit, like mine. “Grandpa?”
He swivels the chair around to face me. Thankfully, he doesn’t have a cat or a diamond for an eye or anything. But he does cluck his tongue. “What did we talk about?”
“Since when do you run a laundromat?” I thought he was retired. And how much running does it really need? Doesn’t it kind of run itself? “This is supposed to be a front for the Red Bandit. Not you.” Obviously if I’d known it was him, I would have figured out a way to get a different assignment. Or at least done a better job of not getting caught, which probably would have involved making Amelia wait outside, because I really don’t want the lecture I know I’m about to get.
Grandpa laughs and slaps his hand on the desk. “A front for the Red Bandit! That’s exactly what everyone is supposed to think. He works for me.”
“So this is a front of a front.”
“Something like that. And don’t think you’re getting out of answering my question. You know what we talked about.”
“Where’s Amelia?”
“Who?”
“My sister! One of your guys dragged her off. He had a raygun to her head!”
“Oh, she’ll be fine.”
“I’d like more reassurance than that.”
“Since when do you not trust your old grandfather?” His eyebrows come together and his mouth turns down. “As if I don’t know it’s that damn school. Trying to change you, turn you against your own.”
Yeah, like he didn’t just take my sister hostage. “Tell them not to hurt her.”
“They’re not going to. She’s a kid, like you. We’re not monsters. You used to know that.” There’s an edge to the way he says that, like me being concerned for Amelia, after they pointed a freaking gun at her, is proof that I’ve been brainwashed.
“Call them.”
“Have a seat.” He gestures for me to grab the extra chair pushed up against the wall and then picks up his cell phone.
I wait for him to actually dial before pulling the chair over. It’s made of bright orange plastic and is really uncomfortable.
Grandpa tells his goons not to hurt Amelia. And not to scare her too much. He sounds pretty put out about it, like this is seriously ruining his day. Then he hangs up. “Now, you want to tell me what you’re doing here?”
“We were doing recon. That’s all. It was an assignment.”
“Well, you weren’t doing a very good job of it. Got yourselves caught pretty easily. What do they even teach you over there?”
“It wasn’t my—”
“In my day, at Vilmore, we knew how to sneak around. How to blend in. We didn’t get in trouble—we caused it.”
“Great.” I slump down in my chair.
“That’s right, it was great. And you tell me you want to go to that school, and I’m supposed to stand by and let it happen, when they’re not even teaching you the basics? You’re lucky it was me in charge here. Anyone else might not be so lenient. It pisses people off, you know.”
He pauses, waiting for me to take the bait. I humor him, but only so we can get this over with. I try to sound as bored as humanly possible when I say, “What does?”
“You. Poking into everyone’s business. You’re a villain, but ever since you got that X on your thumb, you’ve been acting like you don’t know where you belong. You think it’s with heroes, but I don’t buy it. It’s not like everyone doesn’t know who you are. You being famous, being the son of the Crimson Flash—I’ll never know w
hat your mother was thinking with that one, by the way—”
“That makes two of us.”
“—and turning your back on villains, attacking them and training for the League... People notice.”
I sit up straight. “I’m not training for the League.” I told him that already.
“Doesn’t matter what you plan to do. Heroesworth teaches League standards. It trains up new recruits and spits them out. And you being a cog in that machine means something. Everyone sees my grandson on TV, betraying his own kind. It’s shameful, but I don’t care how that looks for me. I have a reputation—everyone knows who I am and what I stand for. But I don’t want to see you throw away your potential and make a fool out of yourself.”
“Can we stop pretending this isn’t about how I look to your friends? Because I’m not going to drop out of the school I actually want to go to just because it makes you look bad.” Especially since no other schools will have me.
“My point is that one of these days, you’re going to wake up and realize you’re making all the wrong choices.”
“They’re my choices to make.”
“You have no future as a hero. Plain and simple. The League’s never going to have you.”
“But I don’t want—”
“Not wanting to join implies that you have a choice. They’re not letting in a half villain, no matter who your father is. So you get through this school of yours, where they don’t even teach you how to do recon without getting caught, and then what?”
“Then I marry rich, obviously. Kat’s doing way better than me in school—I’m sure she’ll be able to keep me in the high quality of living I’m accustomed to. And I’ll repay her in sexual favors, to keep things fair, since you know I’m not a mooch.”
Grandpa pretends he didn’t hear me, though I catch an eyelid twitch of disapproval. “You can train all you like, but you’ll never actually be one of them. What’s the point of preparing for a future you’ll never have?”
“Don’t worry. My future is secured. Kat knows what she’ll be missing if she doesn’t lock this down.”
“So your future is with a villain.” He folds his hands on top of the desk, his fingers interlocking, and gives me this know-it-all look.
“I was joking. I mean, I am going to marry Kat, but I’m not going to be her sex slave full time. Just on the weekends.”
“There’s a reason you didn’t joke about your future with heroes, and that says everything I need to know.”
“It doesn’t. I have a future with them.” I just don’t know what it is. “They’re my friends, my family.”
“Friends who are going to join the League. Family who are going to look down on you when you don’t. When you can’t.”
“They’re not going to abandon me. Not like Mom did. If you want to talk about who I don’t have a future with—”
“Don’t lump me in with your mother. You have other family, Damien. You have me and your grandmother. And in a few years all your friends are going to move on, without you. Maybe you’ll marry Kat, but she’ll have a career, and you won’t. And you’ll hate that. You might want to go to Heroesworth now, because you don’t want to feel left out, but it’s only a quick fix. You’re going to end up feeling left out for the rest of your life if you stay on this path, and that’s why I’ve come out of retirement. To give you another option.”
“You’ve... what?”
He spreads his arms out. “Welcome to the truth.”
“You want me to work at a laundromat? After I realize what a washed-up hero I am and that my whole life is a failure? Then you want me to work here?” Way to paint a bright future full of opportunity. “If this is your truth, then I don’t need it.”
He laughs. “Not truth—Truth. With a capital T. The laundromat is just a front. I don’t want you to work there.”
“Oh. Well, good, because even if I don’t know everything my future holds, I know it doesn’t involve working in a place like this.” Forever. Because this is apparently the next step down from professional hero.
“The Truth is the organization I’m building. The villain organization.” He pauses to let that sink in. “You don’t have to have trained at Vilmore to join. Especially when your grandfather runs the whole thing.”
“A villain organization.” With a dose of some good-old-fashioned nepotism.
“The heroes have the League. It’s about time we had an equivalent. Past time, if you ask me. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for years, but there was always a reason not to do it. I was too busy, or I couldn’t risk the attention from the League. But now I’m retired. And I have my grandson’s future to think about.”
“You think I’m going to join your villain organization?”
“The Truth.”
“Right. Okay. The Truth. What do you guys even do?”
“We stand up for villain rights. Heroes have always treated us like second-class citizens. Well, no more. I’m giving villains a voice, and we’re going to be heard.” He meets my eyes. “You could make a difference here.”
Me, making a difference for villains. Who have to put up with heroes treating us like crap. Like we’re diseased or something. I can’t say it’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Even if it’s not an option. “My dad’s the Crimson Flash.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“I can’t join your organization.”
“Can’t join ours, can’t join theirs. Doesn’t leave you with much, now, does it?”
Erg. I hate how he sounds like he’s right. I mean, he’s not. I don’t know why yet, but I’m sure there’s a reason. “I can’t drop everything, my whole life, just because you want me to.”
“Because of your father? Because he expects you to play nice and not do anything inconvenient for him?”
“I didn’t see you standing up for me when Mom kicked me out.”
His eyes narrow. “Your mother didn’t tell us what happened. It was months before we knew you didn’t get your V, and by then you were already living with him. But don’t think I was happy about that, or that I wouldn’t have taken you. You should have called.”
I look away. “I didn’t know how you’d react. To me being half hero.”
“It was your mother’s fault, not yours. I don’t know where we went wrong with her.”
“And he’s my dad.” Is it such a crime that I maybe wanted to get to know him? “Whatever he expects from me, I think I caused him enough trouble last semester.”
“Because you take after me.” He grins and holds up a hand, making sparks. “There’s nothing wrong with being a villain, Damien. Nothing wrong with it at all. I always hoped you’d inherit my power. My brother’s son inherited his. He taught him all about it. And his granddaughter. I missed out on that with your mother.”
“Yeah, well, there’s always Xavier.” I wonder if he’ll get a power when he’s actually old enough, or just when he’s grown that much. Though I feel a twinge of jealousy when I think of him getting the same power as me. I do not want to hear Mom gushing about what an amazing ability lightning is, as if I don’t have it. And I don’t really want him sharing it with Grandpa, either.
Grandpa scoffs. “Let’s not think about that little monster getting any worse. Right now, we’re talking about you. Those heroes don’t like you using your lightning. They’re making you ashamed of it. I can hear it in your voice.”
“Did Mom tell you I can fly? Because I can.”
He laughs. “I’d heard. But I know how you feel about heights.”
“I just mean that if I did fly, you’d make me feel ashamed of it, too.”
“Maybe.” He sighs. “And I like to think at least it wouldn’t be on purpose. But the reality is that you don’t fly. Maybe you can, but you don’t. You use your lightning. You get into trouble, living with your father and going to that school, because they don’t understand you. They want you to live by their rules—they want to change who you are, so you fit into their world. I don’t
know how you can be happy with that, and I hate to see you wasting your talents. Or having to suppress everything that makes you you. Your father may have taken you in—I’ll give him that much—but there are consequences to staying with him. I want you to know that you have another option. You always have a place with me and your grandmother. And I’d like to make sure you always have a place in villainy.”
I open my mouth to argue, but then I swallow back the words. Because he sounds like he really means it. “Thanks, Grandpa. It’s nice of you to offer, but I’m okay where I am. Really.”
He looks like he doesn’t believe me about that, but he just nods. “Your grandmother and I only want what’s best for you. I don’t want to see your life get ruined because of your mother’s mistakes. Golden City has plenty of heroes, whether you join them or not. The League has plenty of cogs. But the Truth needs villains who will fight for what they believe in. We need passionate people dedicated to equality. Not someone who can recite a list of rules. You won’t make a difference as a hero. But as a villain, you could change the world.”
He makes it sound so simple. And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t tempting. Making a difference in the world for villains? Being somebody? “I...”
“You don’t have to decide right now. Here.” He opens up his desk drawer and pulls out a small envelope, then hands it to me. “It’s an invite to a little event we’re having. You can meet everyone, see what we’re about. And it’s catered. Free food.” He wiggles his eyebrows, like that’s the most tempting thing he could have told me.
I can’t. That’s what I should say. It’s not what comes out. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” He picks up his phone and sends off a text. When it chimes that he has a new message, he gets up from behind the desk to show me to the door. “My associates will see you and your sister out. Oh, and one more thing before you go. We’re a fledgling organization, and I would hate for the Truth to be snuffed out before it really got legs. You know the last thing the heroes want is for us to have a voice. So I can trust you not to say anything to anyone, can’t I?”
The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3) Page 12
