Draco shook his head. “Do you know what you did? Do you understand? No one has ever stood up for me like that, not ever. It’s always been me against the world and then … you.”
“What are you talking about? Ace would walk on water for you.”
“I know.” He nodded. “Only, I can’t ask him to do that. No one can know I have a weak center. I thought I was doing a good job hiding it. Then they killed Carl and knew they could go after you to get to me. What the hell am I going to do?” He gripped her shoulders before he kissed her hard and then backed away. “What the fuck am I going to do?”
Draco’s cell phone rang before Wendy could answer. He let her go to answer it and cursed as he looked at the number. “Ace, I’m right in the middle of something—Uh-huh. You don’t say. That close? What the hell … All right, I’ll check it out but I need you to meet me at the house so you can watch Wendy.” He laughed. “I’ll ask her. Fine.
Bye.”
“I got some of that but not all of it.”
“They’re building a transporter somewhere in one of the warehouses in West New York, New Jersey.” He nodded toward the Hudson River. “Right over there somewhere.”
“I guess that makes sense.” She chewed on her lip. “If they wanted to transport something to Powers, Inc., they probably needed to be close by. Maybe the technology isn’t that far advanced; maybe they can only send things a certain distance.”
“Right, I should have known that you would find this fascinating.”
All right, so maybe she was a geek; nothing she could do about it. “What else did he say?”
“He said to ask you if you cook dinner, too?”
“I have been known to cook dinner.”
“Great, so we’ll get you home and you can cook while I go end the Organization.”
“Draco, don’t you want to take some backup with you?”
“If I actually go in, I’ll call for help. But right now, all I plan to do is go take a look and investigate.”
She knew she didn’t get a say in what Draco did or did not do. She was just his Handler. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like his girlfriend. Was she? Or had she become a pathetic human being, lusting after a man who’d only wanted a one-night stand?
“Draco—”
He held out his hand, cutting her off. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hung on while he took off for the sky and back to his home.
* * * * *
Wendy breaded chicken cutlets in the kitchen. “Who buys all your food and keeps this place clean?”
Ace stared at his laptop, taking long pauses before answering her, obviously distracted. She returned to the counter.
“Our housekeeper,” he said.
Applying the breadcrumbs to the chicken, she turned her head to look at him.
“Draco blindfolded me the last ten minutes of our flight so I wouldn’t know how to get here but your housekeeper knows? That seems a bit unfair.”
“She doesn’t know who we are. You’ll note we don’t have pictures around. We’re never here when she’s here.”
All right, so she felt a little better that she hadn’t been kept in the dark while others knew the location. “What are you doing?”
“I’m, um, reading up on transporter technology—the theory, how it would work, that kind of thing.”
Deciding not to bother him, she busied herself with the cooking. As a child, she’d dreamed of this. Cooking up a big meal, feeding her four children, having a home, and of course, sharing it with her husband. As she spread the Italian breadcrumbs over the chicken breast, the husband in her fantasy took on a face, an identity. Draco. Big problem. She was in so much trouble since she was pretty sure he wasn’t looking for that kind of commitment with her.
“I’ll tell you what.” Ace interrupted her thoughts, which was a good thing.
“Whoever these people are, they have really incredible technology. State of the art stuff.”
Just then, her cell phone buzzed, indicating a text message. Odd … no one ever texted her. Now that she was out of Space Adventures, she shouldn’t be getting any calls at all, let alone text messages. She washed the breadcrumbs off her hands and then dried them, walking to the table to retrieve her phone.
Kyle? She read his message: So sorry about everything. Miss you at S.A. Can you forgive me?
Wendy stared at the phone in her hand. Her best friend, on the worst day of her life, had abandoned her and thrown her out of her favorite group. Could she forgive him? Closing her eyes, she dug deep for the answer. One of the principals of the show was forgiveness. If she didn’t accept his apology—which might’ve been better over the phone or in person rather than text-messaged—was she truly devoted to Space Adventures?
Sighing, she opened her eyes. Yes, she’d forgive him. Using the keypad, she punched in a reply. I can forgive you. Lots going on. Will talk in a few days.
She set the phone on the table and with a smile walked back to the stove to finish their dinner. No sooner had she picked up another piece of chicken than a loud buzz permeated the air. Ace cursed as Wendy dropped the food and whirled around.
A small army of men dressed in orange HAZMAT suits materialized in front of them. Oh god, the transporter. Somehow, they’d discovered where Draco and Ace lived.
Ace jumped from his seat. Bolting into the air, he kicked the man closest to him before three others zapped him at the same time. He screamed at the top of his lungs, a loud, agonizing sound as he fell to the floor, unconscious … maybe dead.
A sob threatened to explode from Wendy’s throat as she rushed to his side.
“Ace!” She screamed as four of the orange-suited nightmares grabbed her and forced her to the ground. One of them tugged her hands behind her back and cuffed them together at her wrists. She struggled, but all of her attention was on Ace. God, he couldn’t be dead.
She’d been cooking dinner. How could this happen?
“We got her.” One of her captors, another faceless orange HAZMAT man, said, his voice muffled by his facemask.
“Let me go.” She was screaming as one of the men yanked her to her feet. Ace’s lifeless body was the last thing she saw as she was transported from the room.
* * * * *
Surrounded by metal bars, she was caged, like some wild animal. As if she was fierce or strong enough to worry about in the first place. Chewing on her fingernail, she tried to focus on the ridiculousness of the situation, but all she could think about was Ace. He was dead. Had Draco found him by now? She’d probably never know.
The orange-suited men had untied her, dumped her in this cage, and not come back. She assumed they meant to kill her, as they had Carl. Poor man, she’d hardly known him, and yet, she would share his fate.
Burying her face in her hands, she rocked herself slowly. Self-pity was a bitch she’d always hated. Who was she kidding? She’d been living on borrowed time since she was born. She should’ve frozen to death in the basket outside of the orphanage that night.
Instead of feeling grateful for what life she had lived, she felt cheated. What would Draco have said if they’d finished their conversation? Would he have fulfilled her childish notions of love or broken her heart? Obviously, she would prefer the first option. She resented, however, that she’d never get the chance to risk having the latter happen.
This was her life. Who the hell were these people to steal it from her?
As if on cue, the door to the room opened. She looked up, understanding suddenly what a dog must feel like as it glances up to the person about to euthanize it.
Sucking in her breath, she heard a small cry escape her throat as she recognized the person approaching her cage. “Kyle … .” What was he doing here?
She gripped the bars. The metal felt cold in her palms but good, compared to the sweat breaking out over her body. Along with the nausea from realizing Kyle was involved, she was sure she
’d pass out at any moment.
He stood in front of her now and still, he said nothing. Did he expect her to speak first?
“Why?” she asked.
“No pleasantries? No assuming I’m here to rescue you?”
She shook her head. She’d asked her question. She wasn’t saying another word until he answered her.
Finally, he spoke. “All right, I’ll give you credit. You’ve always been bright, except in your ridiculous devotion to Draco Powers.”
Draco. It always came down to him. “Why don’t you like him?”
Kyle smacked the bars and they vibrated with his furious pound. Wendy stepped swiftly backward. This wasn’t the Kyle she knew. This man, nothing like the best friend he’d pretended to be, had a crazed look in his eyes and an obvious short fuse.
“I don’t like him because it’s people like him that are making it impossible for the dream of Space Adventures to come true.”
She shook her head. “What?”
“The dream of Space Adventures, Wendy. You of all people should know what that is. The idea that there will be a time when we will be together as one people, as one unit, doing things for the greater good, improving ourselves for the sake of knowledge, love, and destiny … not for money and personal greed.” Kyle laughed, a harsh bitter sound. “How can that happen when Superheroes —Superheroes— are charging money for their services?”
Swallowing, she struggled for something coherent to say. “I think you’re misunderstanding the intricacies of this situation.”
“He has created an underclass of people who can’t afford help.”
“No.” She was foolish to argue and yet she had to speak up. “The police are still around, still responsible for most problems. Draco works with governments most of the time.” Her throat felt dry. “Yes, the very rich can hire him. The other Superheroes are less expensive and you would not believe the amount of unreported pro-bono work he does. It’s not any different from lawyers, doctors, or engineers. The very rich always get the best service. Draco would never deliberately leave anyone’s needs unanswered.”
“Oh, Wendy, you’re so naive. You, of all people, who claim to love the show.
Can’t you see what he is? How could you work for him for as long as you have?”
“How could you have beheaded Carl?”
To her horror, Kyle shrugged. “You have to break a few eggs to make a cake.”
“Kyle!” She couldn’t hide the disgust in her voice. “That’s horrendous. That’s the most despicable thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You understand nothing.”
Wendy moved forward. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She was pissed. “Clearly, you don’t understand the show, not even a little. The show is about peace. It’s about resorting to violence only in moments of desperation. The characters on the show would never—not ever—commit murder or go about doing this the way you have.”
He turned his back on her. “You’re wrong.”
“Captain Istam would never have done what you did. If he had a problem with Draco, a real problem, if he honestly believed Draco was harming society, he’d confront him head-on. He’d force him with reason, logic, and compassion to see his point-of-view. Killing Carl, destroying the livelihood of all who worked for Draco, kidnapping me, just wouldn’t happen.”
“You’re so small minded. Nothing comes without pain. If we were already in the world of Space Adventures, we wouldn’t need to kill Carl, to kill you … .”
At the mention of her upcoming death, Wendy’s head began to pound.
“We’re so close. Can’t you see it? In a way, I envy you, the role you’ll play in bringing it all about.”
“Hell, Kyle. You’re sick in the head. You need help. This isn’t the show. You’ve moved so far away from the show you can’t even see it anymore.”
“Oh, Wendy.” Kyle turned back to look at her. His eyes had changed, they looked softer now, but that was worse. She shivered at his sexual glare, and, for the first time, she was grateful for the cage if it kept his damned hands off her. “Why didn’t you marry me? Why couldn’t you love me? I wanted to make you part of my family.”
Her insides went cold. Whatever divine intervention had helped her decide to put Kyle off for so long, she thanked them at that second.
“Why did you send the monster after me on the night we were supposed to go out?”
She didn’t really care, but it seemed important to keep Kyle talking, at least for the moment.
“I wanted you to see how dangerous Draco’s job is. If he hadn’t rescued you, the cat machine would have brought you to me. You weren’t in any danger then. But you are now. It’s really a shame.”
She was sick of his sanctimonious bullshit. The man was a lunatic. It was bad enough he’d targeted Draco and planned to kill her. Under no circumstances was she listening to anymore of his crap.
“I would rather spend the rest of my life with no family; I would rather remain an orphan than be a member of your family, ever.” The tears rolling down her cheeks were not tears of sadness. No, she was so angry she couldn’t express her fury any other way.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you’ll be dead within the hour.”
Chapter Twelve
Draco walked through his front door with a mixture of annoyance and happiness. First, he hadn’t found a damned thing in the warehouse he’d scoured and second, Wendy was here. He shouldn’t be this thrilled about seeing her, but he was.
Every feeling, good or bad, stopped the second he stepped into the entryway.
His house was mess. He didn’t know what to think. Tables upturned, chairs toppled, and the cushions from his couch thrown everywhere. But Ace’s unmoving figure made Draco’s heart stop.
“Ace!” He ran to him. Turning him over, Draco heard his brother groan. He’d never heard a more wonderful noise. His little brother, who he had treated terribly that morning, was not dead. Draco’s breath came out in sharp exhales. For the first time in his life, he was hyperventilating.
His brother’s eyes opened and he swore before he said, “They transported in.”
“They,” being the Organization, no doubt. “Wendy?”
“They took her, I think. I was barely conscious when they did.”
It took all Draco’s self-control not to put his fist through the wall.
“Can you sit up? What did they do to you?”
Ace nodded and Draco held his arm as his brother shifted into a seated position.
Once he was convinced Ace was steady, he let go.
“They shot me with some kind laser. It completely disabled me, hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. My hands are still shaking.” Ace raised his hands to show him.
“Take it easy. Just give yourself a moment.” Draco wanted to scream, but not at Ace. His mind whirled. He had to find Wendy and he had to find her now. “How did they find us?”
Ace rubbed his nose. He seemed to be considering that question. “Oh damn it.
The cell phone.”
“What?”
“She got a text message and she answered it. They must have traced the text. I bet you they sent that text so they could find out where she was.”
Draco shot up, looking around the mess in the room. “Did they take the cell phone with them?”
“I have no frickin’ idea. I was unconscious by then.”
Draco pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Wendy’s number.
Seconds later, a ringing sounded in the room. With everything thrown everywhere, it looked like a cyclone had passed through his house. It took a moment to locate the ringing. Thank god, they’d left the thing behind. He pulled one of the sofa cushions off the floor and picked up her phone. Hanging up his own, he held Wendy’s in his hand and tried to figure out how to call up the text messages.
Ace spoke from his spot on the floor. “Give it to me.”
Sighing in frustration, Draco crossed to Ace and handed him the phone. Without pushing any buttons, Ace
used his superpower to speak to the machine and commanded it to call up the text messages.
“What’s it like to do that? How do you make the machine listen?”
His brother raised an eyebrow but didn’t look up. “How do you make someone tell you the truth? What is that power like?”
Point taken. He could no more explain to Ace what that was like than his brother could explain how he spoke to computers. Damn it, he wished he would hurry up.
Every second he was away from Wendy she was one second closer to losing her head.
“Son-of-a-bitch.” Ace’s head snapped up.
“What?”
“Kyle.”
“The asshole who threw her out of her group because she wouldn’t date him?”
“That’s the one. He’s the one who sent the message. Wanted her to forgive him.”
Draco paced. “We need to get information on him. All the intel we can find. I have to figure out where he would stash her.”
“I can do better than that.” Ace grinned.
“How?”
“I can trace his call and find out the location from where it was sent.”
Draco shook his head. “How can you do that?”
“I’m going to ask her phone to tell me.”
* * * * *
Draco stood, the wind blowing his hair and the spray off the Hudson River hitting him in the face. He did nothing to wipe away the moisture. Wendy was in the building below. Oddly, he could make out her floral aroma from where he perched on the warehouse’s roof—odd, because his sense of smell was his weakest trait. His ability to smell was only moderately better than most humans.
He couldn’t explain why he was so sure he smelled Wendy except he was certain he did. Closing his eyes, he located the heartbeats of every person in the building. There were ten, including Wendy’s, which was separate from the group in the center.
Ace landed softly on the roof next to him.
“Are you crazy? I told you to stay home.”
Screwing the Superhero Page 12
