by Liana Brooks
The judge gave Angela a critical look. “You don’t watch the news?”
“My father has high blood pressure and the politics get him worked up. I tried checking online, but I couldn’t find a trial date.” The judge made eye contact and Angela had no problem with letting the guilt build.
He coughed. “There were problems with the trial.”
“That much is painfully apparent,” Delilah said crisply. “Where is Mr. Freeman?”
The judge sighed. “We have him in a holding cell in anticipation of his release. And I’m not saying I’ll release him, either. This is...not what I intended. There’s the whole question of why Mr. Freeman had the gun in the school in the first place. That’s enough for me to keep him in jail.”
“Not without trial and the benefits of counsel,” Delilah said. “What you’ve done is illegal. That boy has a right to trial with a jury of his peers. You either provide him with that trial and have it dismissed for contempt of court, or we sort this out tonight in a quiet way that serves justice and preserves your reputation.”
Judge Bronson glowered at Delilah.
She raised an immaculately sculpted eyebrow. “You are the one who created the situation, Judge Bronson. I’m simply providing a way for you to correct your error.”
The judge reached for his pen, and stopped. “No. No more mistakes. I need to know why Mr. Freeman had a gun on school property. He won’t tell me, but I assume you have an explanation.”
“He was going to commit suicide,” Angela said. “His father was abusive and Travys didn’t want to deal with it anymore. He didn’t shoot at me. I tried to get the gun when he shot at himself.”
Delilah squeezed her shoulder. “Stop growling,” she whispered. “Judge?”
Judge Bronson looked from Angela to Travys. “Do you think sending him back to that situation will help?” He held up a hand. “I understand your concern, Miss Samson. I’m not saying the boy needs to stay here, but I won’t countenance sending him back to a dangerous home environment that inspired him to attempt to take his own life once. Unless you have arrangements made, he will stay here until child protective services can be called in to evaluate the situation.”
“Happily,” Delilah said, reaching into her briefcase, “I foresaw such an argument and took it upon myself to have our firm follow up with his mother and a sponsor.” Delilah presented the judge with a small dossier. “The Bright Hope sponsor network has matched Travys with one of their patrons. Travys’s mother has signed the necessary paperwork and he has been enrolled in a private school in Virginia. He’ll receive room and board, an excellent education, and the sponsor will cover the cost of his first four years at any university as long as he maintains a three-point-oh grade average or better.”
Judge Bronson’s brows knit together as he reviewed the paperwork. “Very thorough. Everything here was done in anticipation of his release.”
“Either now or as the result of a trial.” Delilah shrugged as if to say that minor detail meant nothing to her. “Travys Freeman was imprisoned and found guilty of first degree murder without trial. Standing in front of you is his alleged victim. If Travys doesn’t walk out with us tonight our next stop will be a meeting with a New York Times journalist. Tomorrow morning, Travys will leave for his new school, or your name will be plastered over every morning talk show in the country.”
The judge scowled at Delilah and Angela’s throat constricted with fear. “I don’t appreciate blackmail, Miss Samson.”
“This isn’t blackmail,” Delilah replied. “You made choices, and you will deal with the consequences like a responsible adult. I won’t coddle you because you’re in a position of power. You aren’t an infant.”
The judge was still waffling. Angela focused on agreement, on his desire to do good, and a sense of right, wrapping it all up and nudging it at him.
With a heavy sigh, the judge nodded. “Fine. I’ll sign the release paperwork.” He looked up at Delilah. “And the rest?”
“The blackmail The Company used will be gone by noon tomorrow. I suggest sticking to public places and avoiding your phone.”
Delilah paced while they waited for Travys to be released and change into his street clothes.
“Why are you doing that?” Angela asked. “Everything’s fine.”
Her sister shot her a dark look. “Let’s get out of the city before we declare this a roaring success.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
“Good.” Delilah checked her watch. “Do you have your phone?”
“Always.”
“Check the social networks. Keywords ‘superhero’ and ‘Bugman.’”
Angela pulled her phone out of the little purse she was wearing and typed in the commands. “Is there a reason for this?”
“Some people track superhero sightings.” Delilah glowered at the guard.
Angela snuck a glance in his direction, then hit him with the desire to sleep. Everything is fine, she whispered to his mind, relax. Sleep. He sighed, settled back, and didn’t even notice when his phone clattered to the floor.
Delilah scooped it up with gloved hands. “Our friend here was texting a buddy, ‘Sketchy stuff tonight. Two hotties visiting the judge after hours.’”
“That’s not technically illegal. Is it?”
“Depends on who he was sending the message to.” Pulling a thin wire from her pocket, Delilah connected the guard’s phone to hers. “Let’s have a peek at his contacts list.”
Angela frowned. “Downloading information from another person’s tech without consent is illegal. I paid attention to that part of my Ethics and Law class.”
“Super villain!” Delilah said with a cheerful smile. She unplugged the phone as Travys walked around the corner in the same jeans and T-shirt he’d worn when he was arrested. There was a small ketchup stain on the bottom of his shirt, a leftover from lunch.
No, Angela realized with sobering unease, a bloodstain. Her blood. Heaven above, that had been close. It was almost enough to make her believe in miracles.
Travys blinked at her in confusion. “Miss Smith? They said you were dead!”
“A gross exaggeration,” Delilah said. “Shall we get going? There’s a cab waiting for us.”
“We’ll get you some fresh clothes on the way.” Angela held out a hand.
Travys stepped around her as he headed for the door. “Where’s my mom?”
She touched his mind too, felt the unease and despair that hadn’t been addressed while he was incarcerated. He was confused. Lost in a sea of his own fears and a danger to everyone.
Angela glanced at Delilah as she bit her lip.
“Your mother is out of town, but we hope she’ll be in contact with you soon.”
Travys’s face shut down, and then he seemed to shrug it off.
“She would have been here if she could,” Angela said.
“No she wouldn’t. She’s always leaving, my mom. Always making plans to get the money so she could go somewhere else.” He stopped at the door. “I’m not going back to live with Chris. I ain’t doing that.”
“You’ve been enrolled in a very good school in Virginia,” Delilah said. She opened the door and nodded for Travys and Angela to follow. “I’ll make sure your mother calls as soon as she can.”
As they walked out of the detention center, Angela tugged at the curl of confusion until it straightened out. It was the least she could do. Her nerves twanged with the need to put everything right.
Travys stepped out of the detention center and took a deep breath of fresh air. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked up at the overcast sky with a smile. “The moon’s playing peek-a-boo. I missed that. Is that stupid? I was locked up and I didn’t miss TV or my mom. I missed seeing that moon. Like, it’s always there when nobody else was.”
“That’s very poetic,” Angela said.
“Poetry later, leaving now,” Delilah said. “We all have places to be and—”
A plume of dust shot up
in front of them. Under the weak streetlight and the peek-a-boo moon, the person who landed in front of them was recognizable as the superhero Bugman. When he smiled light glinted off his white teeth.
Angela decided to hate him on principle. Real people did not have teeth that shone in the moonlight.
“Going so soon?” the superhero asked as he sauntered forward. “Well, well, well, how cliché. The villainess, her sidekick, and the hag.”
“Who are you calling a sidekick?” Delilah demanded.
“Who are you calling a hag?” Angela wished she’d left her hair down so she could toss it around as a physical punctuation to her question. Sometimes life had no sense of narrative.
Bugman pointed at Travys. “Did you really think you’d get away with this?”
Angela pulled her student back. Chin lifted, she glared at him. “Travys did nothing. He was wrongfully incarcerated. If you really represent justice—” Delilah snorted in disbelief “—you will let us walk away unmolested.”
The sneer on Bugman’s face was nearly as frightening as the leer she’d grown accustomed to seeing on Pyro. “Criminals must be punished. This boy shot you, Miss Smith.” He dragged her name out in a mocking way better left to the playground.
“I’m not dead. Habeas corpus, sir. No corpse. No conviction.”
“By tomorrow morning, you will be a corpse. And you”—he pointed at Delilah—”will be back in Company headquarters where you belong.”
Delilah’s eyebrows were lost under her fringe. “Which company?” she asked, feigning confusion. “My company headquarters? Yes, I’m expected there. That’s the thing about reality. Those of us who live in the real world are expected to show up at work every day. And not wear spandex.” Her lips curled into a grimace of horror. “Halloween is over, and padded codpieces are not in fashion.”
Bugman made the mistake of looking down at his crotch.
Delilah had her gun trained on the superhero in the blink of an eye.
“Put it away,” Angela ordered with an emotional shove that would have turned most people into voluntary slaves. Decades of sisterhood and a stubborn streak the size of the Rio Grande made Delilah immune. She didn’t even acknowledge Angela. “Please,” Angela begged. A cold breeze ruffled the loose hairs on her neck. “Please, don’t do this.”
“Listen to the teacher,” Bugman said. “There’s no way you can—” He froze midstep, wreathed in blue ice.
Angela leaned forward. “Bugman?”
She felt someone move behind her. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the red carpet tonight?” a soft voice whispered.
Chapter Sixteen
Dear Travys,
I’m writing this on the flight into New York, and I hope I’ll be able to hand it to you in person tonight.
First, I want to apologize for all of this. It was selfish of me to go into hiding like I did. I thought I was protecting, well, everyone really. Myself, my family, my mom most importantly. I know that doesn’t make much sense, but if you ask me one day I’ll tell you the story of the man who tried to destroy my family. He left my mother broken. It took her years to heal, and The Company supported him in what he did. I promised myself when I was little that I would never let the superheroes bully my family again.
And in doing that I broke the promise I made to all of my students on that first day of school.
I remember how you came in, shy, and skinny, and just a little scruffy. You were hiding in the back row under that torn brown hoodie you loved so much. My heart broke a little because I could see how curious you were. You soaked in the first few lessons but I could never draw you out of your shell.
And then one day you asked a question. That was one of the best days of my life. I felt like I’d accomplished something real. I’d connected with a student and made you interested in math. That’s geeky, but for a teacher it’s huge.
Travys, you are such a bright, wonderful, intelligent young man. You are going to do great things. The whole world is waiting to open up for you. And I’m going to make sure you get the chance to explore it.
Sincerely,
Miss Smith
Angela whipped around and found herself nose to nose with Arktos.
The safety of Delilah’s gun clicked off. “We are behind schedule, ladies and gentlemen. Everyone I like, to the car please. All strangers in spandex get to stay here.”
Arktos took Angela’s hand before she could move away. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
“We need to go,” Delilah insisted, pulling Travys behind her and urging him toward the waiting taxi.
Angela shook her head. “Give me a minute.”
Delilah flicked the safety back on. “You’re going to be late.”
“Please? Sixty seconds.”
“I promise she’ll be quick,” Arktos said. “Bugman won’t stay frozen forever.”
Angela shivered. “Did you kill him?”
“No, I chilled him, it’s like stasis. He’ll thaw in a few minutes and never know the difference. Except you will be gone.”
Delilah put her gun away. “Sixty seconds. The clock is running,” she said before hurrying after Travys.
Angela licked her lips and then risked looking into Arktos’s eyes. “What are you doing here?”
A gentle smile played about the corners of his mouth. “Rescuing a damsel in distress?”
“I think the lawyer would object to being called a damsel.”
He shrugged. “I kept seeing the detention center and knew you were getting into trouble. I thought you might want backup.”
“Do you realize how much trouble you’re going to get in for this? The Company is not going to see me as the good guy here.”
His gaze became intense. “They can consider it my resignation.”
Angela jerked back, bumping into the frozen Bugman. “Resignation?”
“I read the file on this case.” Arktos raised a shoulder and shrugged it off. “There’s no way to put a positive spin on locking a kid up because you want to use them as bait. I’ve got a little brother. I can’t risk someone deciding he’s a pawn to be played with. So I’m out.”
Angela shook her head. “You can’t quit.”
He chuckled. “I still have my day job. You know, the one that pays the bills?”
She shook her head harder. “No, I’m serious. Leaving The Company is suicide. You can’t walk away from them.”
He twitched an eyebrow. “You haven’t had any trouble.”
Angela rolled her eyes. “I have plenty of trouble, but I also have my family. We’re good at handling tough situations. Who will be there for you?”
“You?” He gave her a look like a lost little puppy.
She blinked.
The quiet night grew loud around them. “Angela?”
Her jaw dropped. “I...um. We need to talk about that.”
“Hardly.” He leaned in and dropped a chaste kiss on her lips.
She didn’t mean to, but she found herself following him as he pulled away, chasing down another touch.
Arktos drew her close. “You’re going to be late for the ball, Cinderella.” He stroked the side of her face. “See you on the red carpet tonight?”
“Yes.”
He caught her hand before she grabbed his mask. “No cheating.” Arktos kissed her palm. “Would you still rather hear your dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves you? When you depart from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.”
The taxi horn blared behind them. “Sixty seconds is up!” Delilah yelled. “Get in the car or walk.”
He blinked. “Charming lady.”
“Did I mention I come with relatives?” Angela winked, grinning. “I guess—”
Delilah stormed up with a manila folder in her hand. “Take this.” Delilah shoved the folders at Arktos as she grabbed Angela’s arm. “You,” she said to Angela, “are coming with me.”
Angela was impressed that she made it to the car without breakin
g her ankle. “Was it that important to leave right now?” she demanded as she slammed the door. “Really? I wanted to get his name!”
“You don’t know it?” Delilah stared at her. “You told him your real name and you don’t know his?”
“Um...”
“Angela Shalom Meredith Smith, you are the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen since Gideon decided to collect a box of rock pets and named them all Herbie.” Delilah’s eyes slid over to Travys. “Hell, there’s even a witness.”
Travys sat up in alarm.
“I’ve always used my legal name,” Angela said. “Travys knew who I was all along. I talked about our family in class. I’m not ashamed of who we are.”
“You never mentioned the whole superpowers thing,” Travys said.
“What superpowers?” Angela asked. “We’re not wearing spandex.”
“Your boyfriend does,” Delilah snipped.
Angela crossed her arms and fell back into the leather seat with a hmph. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“No, he’s the guy you were kissing whose name you don’t know. Mother will be so pleased.”
Delilah dodged the shin kick, so Angela contented herself with sticking out her tongue. “I know his name.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t need to tell you. Not unless we’re serious, and we aren’t. Arktos... I was telling him good bye.” She could feel the pull of Delilah’s power, the subtle desire to tell her sister everything. “I won’t see him again. Ever.”
“Darn right you won’t.” Delilah pulled out another folder from her briefcase. “This is your new driver’s license, state ID for Virginia, and the emails you’ve been exchanging with Redbrick Academy. Travys’s school is hiring a new computer teacher. It’s not your area of expertise, but you can fake it. ‘Here’s a mouse, go click. Here’s a keyboard, go type.’” Delilah mimed teaching.
Travys giggled. “I could teach that class.”
Angela stared at the papers. “Leave L.A.? Why...no. I can’t leave L.A. right now.”
“You went there to lay low for a bit. It’s not my fault you started a new career!”
“You have a new job?” Travys looked at her in confusion.
