by C. C. Ekeke
A stiff night wind forced Quinn to draw her peacoat more closely. “Well, the killer kinda did. The drone watching Lord Borealis has nine hours of footage missing. OSA can’t explain why.”
“Not what I meant.” Geist began circling Quinn, like a prey would quarry.
She instinctively shrank back. Geist continued. “If Borealis’s ankle monitor malfunctioned, OSA would’ve known immediately and scrambled to his last known location. That didn’t happen. The monitor also has a power dampener. Borealis can only use thirty percent of his magnetism before the dampener disables his powers for four hours. The amount of energy expended to kill Titan was way more.”
“So what are you saying?” Quinn inquired. “There’s another super out there with more powerful electromagnetic abilities than Lord Borealis?”
“Maybe.” Geist’s blood-red eyes never left Quinn as he kept circling her. The reporter’s shudder had no relation to the chilly night.
“Wouldn’t be surprising.” Quinn kept her gaze on the ground. “I read how Lord Borealis made a lot of enemies after his plea deal to become an informant. I’m sure plenty of rogues wanted to take him out.”
“True,” Geist said. “Titan’s body was found with no scuffs or stains on his suit. He didn’t fight back.”
“Ambush?” Quinn suggested.
“No.” Geist stopped barely three feet in front of Quinn.
Every instinct in her body screamed to run. Yet her feet remained welded to the ground. After several seconds, Quinn could discern aspects of Geist’s outfit faintly visible within the shadows. The crinkles on his trench coat. The section where his mask ended and his body suit began. “CSI data shows no trace that he’d used his powers before his death.”
“Then Titan knew his murderer,” Quinn said, unsettled by the direction this investigation was heading. “Might’ve even been friends with them?”
“And this murderer needed access to OSA’s systems to delete footage of Lord Borealis and cover their tracks,” Geist added, eyes burning. “Any supervillain worth their salt would brag about killing Titan. Especially Lord Borealis.”
Quinn processed his words, and her blood ran cold. “Geist, you’re not saying—”
“I am.” Geist straightened up, abruptly seeming more menacing. “Titan was killed by another hero.”
Fingers of quiet dread squeezed Quinn’s chest. “Then this investigation just got a lot more complicated,” she breathed.
Chapter 14
“Do me a huge favor?” Hugo asked, holding his cell. He strode through the dark streets of the Junction neighborhood.
“Sure,” Simon agreed on the other end.
“If my mom calls,” Hugo continued, “say I’m at your place?” He hung right at a street corner with cracked pavement. His superhearing caught nearby music and merrymaking. His nose detected familiar stenches wafting through the Junction.
“Okay,” Simon replied. Hugo could hear the flavor of his friend’s uneasiness. “Where are you really?”
“Meeting Presley and her friends at a party,” Hugo whispered. His heart raced uttering his next words. “I’m making my move tonight.”
“Nice!” Simon exclaimed. “Why are you whispering?”
“I’m almost there.” Hugo approached an eight-story structure. Like many Junction buildings, most of its windows remained unlit. But Hugo spied a concentration of lights and noise between the fourth and fifth floors. His dress was casual; tight-fitting grey henley and baggy brown cargo pants, his spiky hair properly disheveled. Presley and her crew had invited him to this gathering yesterday.
“Just a group thing,” she’d explained, playing it cool. But Hugo had caught Presley’s secret gasp of excitement when he’d accepted. Simon had been right about her liking him.
Do I like her? Hugo enjoyed their back-and-forth teasing, missed her if they weren’t hanging out. Hugo had found Presley cute when they’d first met. But in his opinion, she’d gotten way hotter since then. And her smile... And every time Hugo thought about her, which happened a lot lately, he’d get harder than wood. He was hard now, in fact. Not knowing much about Presley or her crew didn’t matter.
Hugo smiled. Yeah, I like her.
Simon’s voice drew him back to now. “Stay cool. Don’t go Stage Seven clinger like with you-know-who.”
Hugo’s eagerness soured. “I won't be a clinger. If she’s not interested, I back off.” Hopefully, Presley was interested. Hugo didn’t think he could truly like someone else after Brie.
“By the way,” Simon added. “When is some real Simon and Bogie time happening? Ever since you met your super friends, I barely see you outside of school!”
“Sorry,” Hugo said, thoughts swirling around Presley. “We’ll hang this week. Promise.” He felt dizzy and giddy at once. “Wish me luck.”
“You got this, Bogie,” Simon encouraged, a smile in his words.
“Thanks, brutha.” Hugo ended the call, then sent a dishonest text to Mom that he’d reached Simon’s house. He pushed the guilt away and dropped the cellphone in his pocket. “Let’s do this.” Hugo entered the lobby, heading for the elevators.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, opening to a wide space bursting with sounds, smells, and visuals. Blue light bathed the raucous gathering. Thumping bass from 00s hip-hop rattled the whole floor.
Hugo weaved through the writhing crowd, recognizing nobody.
Then someone clapped his arm. “Hugo!”
He turned to see the rangy frame of Thin Shady. Under the blue lights, the boy’s smile stood out against his coal-black skin. “You made it!” he cried happily.
“I did,” Hugo replied, exchanging high-fives. “Where’s the crew?”
Thin Shady signaled behind him, smile widening. He knew who Hugo wanted to see. “This way.”
Thin Shady led the Samoan through boisterous partygoers to a side room.
Hugo’s heart was a rapid-fire drum in his chest. The anticipation was excruciating.
“Here.” Thin Shady pointed to a small cluster of people in the room’s center.
Gabby chugged a drink and chatted with Nikilesh, extra peppy to Hugo's surprise. Liquid confidence could do that. Paul sat with a couchful of pretty girls, laughing. Hugo never knew he had such pimp game. After scanning the room, he found Presley.
She looked super-cute tonight in jeans and a sports coat over a t-shirt, her pixie-cut hair styled like a pageboy. She was relaxed and smiling, speaking to another partygoer—while leaning on Vargas. The massive, bald shapeshifter caressed the nape of her neck with one hand. By their body language, they looked very coupled up.
Hugo’s heart sank. Of course he’d misread her flirting. I’m such a dumbass.
Presley’s gaze shifted in Hugo’s direction. She perked up and waved. Vargas noticed, giving a smug nod.
Hugo itched to smack that arrogant wolf boy into orbit. Instead, he waved back half-heartedly.
Presley motioned him and Thin Shady over. Hugo didn’t move. No way did he need a closeup of Vargas and Presley—together. Tonight’s fantasies went down in flames. Briseis all over again.
God, he just wanted out of this stupid party to escape the embarrassment.
“I’m grabbing drinks,” Thin Shady called out. “Want anything?”
Hugo eyed him gratefully. “I’ll come. I need something strong.”
They headed back into the main room, where an old-school Jay-Z track got the party thumping. Behind him, Hugo heard Presley’s excitement become confusion. “Where’s Hugo going?”
The stocked bar across the room had two bartenders. Thin Shady got some mixed drink Hugo had never heard of while he got straight vodka. Getting drunk would drown the shame. Then Hugo would leave.
Five cups of vodka later, and Hugo wasn't drunk. Tonight officially sucked.
“Fucking superpowers…” he grumbled, crushing the empty plastic cup in his fist.
“Too much drink for you?” Presley leaned against the bar, teasing him with a sm
irk. God, she looked pretty tonight.
“Not enough,” Hugo complained evenly. No need to get emo because the girl he liked was unavailable…again. “Five vodkas and I can’t feel anything.”
Presley laughed. “I gotta pound a whole keg just to get buzzed. And that lasts like five minutes.” She shrugged. “But if that’s the cost of a healing factor, I’ll take it.”
Hugo nodded but didn’t smile. Time to go. But he couldn’t figure out how to say that without seeming butthurt, leading to awkward tension between them.
Presley took his hand. “I know where to get the stronger stuff.” She winked, pulling Hugo toward the grooving masses.
He should’ve left. But something in him couldn’t refuse her charm.
Presley led them to the elevator and up to the eighth floor. One luxury apartment was wide open, filled with posh furniture. Hugo heard and smelled no sign of anyone except him and Presley. Meaning the owner was probably enjoying the party below. They found a bar in the common room, revealing a wall-length liquor stock that put the bar downstairs to shame. Hugo heard the raucous party three floors below. He also heard gentle swells of water from above the ceiling, gallons of it, constant and ominous. “Should we be up here?” Hugo inquired.
Presley grabbed two large Goldschläger bottles from a liquor cabinet. “Nope,” she said, grinning.
Minutes later, Hugo and Presley sat side by side outside the apartment, chugging their Goldschläger bottles down to the gold flakes. Pungent liquor taste aside, Hugo liked the cinnamon flavor.
Presley watched him expectantly. “Well?”
Hugo shook his head in frustration. “Nothing.”
“Same.” Presley poked his washboard stomach and giggled. “Guess your insides are made of iron too.”
A tingle ran through Hugo where she’d touched him. Embarrassment aside, he no longer wanted to leave. Sitting and talking to Presley was enough. He looked away. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” Presley answered briskly, hugging her knees.
Hugo nodded. He’d suspected she was older but still a teenager. But his curiosity wasn’t satisfied. “And your powers. When did they manifest?”
The Chinese girl cocked an eyebrow. “That’s two questions.”
Hugo didn’t look away this time. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”
“Funny.” She blushed, averting her eyes. Presley's breaths grew ragged. “I’m from a shitty Pittsburgh neighborhood where my dad beat the crap out of me and my mom.”
Hugo flinched. That took a dark turn. He almost said “Sorry” but realized how useless that was.
If Presley noticed his reaction, she didn't say, continuing her tale while staring ahead. “Then, almost three years back, he was wailing away on my mom worse than usual. I thought he was going to kill her. I tried stopping him. Daddy backhanded me and kept beating my mom. For some reason, I wouldn’t stay down and stabbed his shoulder with a knife. This time, Daddy grabs me by the hair and throws me off the balcony.”
Hugo gaped, heart in his throat. “Holy shit…”
Presley shrugged indifferently. Clearly, she’d told this story before. “One moment I’m falling fourteen stories down. The next…I wake up in a morgue hours later.” She turned to Hugo with a sad smile. “I’d been declared dead. Shattered legs and arms, spine fractured in three places. Skull cracked open like a chicken egg.” She blandly read the injuries off how most would a laundry list.
Hugo’s stomach lurched, made worse by the water above the ceiling swishing around. “Ouch.” He fought the need to hold her.
Again, Presley looked nonplussed. “My healing factor manifested, kept me from almost dying. I stole some clothes, ran away, and never looked back.”
Hugo exhaled heavily. He had no clue how hard her life had been, or why she was sharing so freely after weeks of vague non-answers. “What about your crew?” he asked.
Presley’s smile filled with actual joy. “Orphans from the streets, like me. I met Nik and Gabby first, both kids from the foster system. Thin Shady got kicked out of his home after he manifested. Vargas joined us last year from San Diego. Was a local gang enforcer who wanted out.” Presley’s body warmed, her scent changing as she gushed about her crew. Hugo couldn’t take his eyes off her. “For whatever reason, we found each other at the right time and became a family. Now we make some decent moolah.”
Hugo’s head jerked back. “Doing what?”
Presley made a face. Hugo sensed her walling up again. “Handling whatever our clients need.”
Hugo was lost. “How many clients?”
“Enough to make decent moolah.” Presley’s clipped tone meant sharing job details was over.
Hugo took the hint and, despite his curiosity, trying another route. “Then why work at Beach Bum Burger?”
Presley stood and adjusted her sports coat. “Good burgers. Decent hours. And beer money.”
“And did a client ask you to beat up those basketball players?”
To his surprise, Presley snickered. “That ass-kicking was for fun.”
Hugo had to chuckle. “I got some experience beating up ballplayers.” Another louder swish of water made him glare up at the ceiling.
Presley frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Sounds like there’s an ocean on top of us.”
Presley’s eyes widened. “That superhearing blows my mind.” She pointed at the ceiling. “There’s a rooftop pool. No one uses it.”
Hugo gaped at her, instantly excited. “We gotta see it.”
They reached the roof using the stairwell. The well-lit pool cast an aquamarine glow everywhere, taking up a big chunk of the rooftop space. Hugo's giddy reached toddler levels while stripping to his boxers. Without waiting for permission, he dove in. For some reason, Hugo hadn’t tested his powers underwater. Now in the lukewarm pool, he zipped from end to end like a missile, doing twenty laps in under ten seconds. He could hold his breath over a minute. The only reason Hugo popped his head above water was so Presley didn’t worry. But she remained at poolside with a strangely anxious expression.
“Jump in,” Hugo demanded, smiling. “The water feels amazing.”
She stared back in embarrassment. “I…don’t know how to swim.”
Hugo’s mouth fell open. “Really?” he chortled. Is she joking?
Presley reddened.
Hugo stopped laughing. “O…Okay.” He paddled toward the pool’s edge where she stood. “No worries. I can teach you…”
After some reluctance, Presley stripped to her bra and panties. She had a skinny body with small breasts and thick thighs. Hugo enjoyed the view but kept that to himself.
Over the next hour, he showed Presley some basic swimming strokes at the shallow end and held her half above water with one hand. They both joked and teased one another, but Hugo made sure she felt safe. Before long, Presley gained enough confidence to doggy paddle across the shallow end unassisted.
“Quick learner,” Hugo said, impressed.
“Great teacher,” Presley threw back. Her short hair looked so sexy wet and slicked back. And she kept gazing up at Hugo through her eyelashes with ravenous want.
He pretended not to notice. Hugo kept his hopes nonexistent, knowing there was no chance.
A little later, Presley waded in the middle of the pool while Hugo stayed at the shallow end wall. He squatted against it, beckoning Presley forward. “Now swim to me. You can do it.”
Presley dove underwater, swimming forward with smooth strokes. She was supposed to touch the shallow end wall on Hugo’s right. Instead, Presley exploded up with a huge splash right in Hugo’s face. She pushed herself up on him, draping both arms around his neck. Their noses nearly touched, her fragrance flooding Hugo’s nostrils despite the pool chlorine. Presley’s body warmth felt sweet, seducing.
She leaned close, her lips grazing his.
Hugo’s mind whirled. Every instinct told him to kiss Presley. But he pulled back, not wanting any part of some love triang
le. “Wha—What about Vargas?” All the blood draining from Hugo's brain made coherent thinking hard.
Presley cocked her head sideways. Her fingers stroking the back of his neck made everything harder. “I’m here with you,” she murmured in a low and suggestive voice. “Not him.”
That wasn’t a yes or no. Hugo frowned, unsatisfied. “Aren’t you guys together?”
Presley threw her head back and laughed. “You really wanna discuss Vargas with me wrapped around you?”
That remark made Hugo’s night. “Nope.”
Presley nodded, leaning closer. “Uh-huh…”
Hugo met her halfway with a full, deep kiss. Presley’s body shuddered with passion. Hugo moved very gently to not hurt her. He still didn’t know his full strength, which hadn’t plateaued. Despite those worries, he and Presley kissed and groped and pressed flesh in that pool a long while. Hugo searched down her throat with his mouth, drawing contented noises out of her. It was visceral, disembodying, and magical.
Later, they’d dried off with some towels in the pool house. Hugo sat with his arm around Presley, feet dipping into the water as they soaked in post-makeout bliss.
Hugo trembled with happiness…and guilt. Presley had been so open tonight. Yet Hugo had given her breadcrumbs. That wasn’t fair.
“This isn’t how I expected my life to go,” he finally said, fixated on the brightly lit pool. “I’d fantasized about getting powers since I was four.” His shame intensified, this time over failing to honor Titan’s legacy and powers. But Hugo could never fill Titan’s shoes. “I thought powers would solve my problems.”
Presley scoffed and held him tighter. “If only.” Her left foot drew circles in the pool.
He turned to her. She watched him with such adoration. Will she look at me the same way if she knew everything? “My powers manifested like yours,” His voice grew hoarse for some reason.
Presley sat up, more alert. “You nearly died?”
“Kinda.” Hugo looked down. Shame roiled inside his chest. Don’t tell her... But his guilt wouldn’t be contained. He couldn't hide anymore. “I tried killing myself,” Hugo blurted out. From the corner of his vision, he saw Presley’s eyes go wide, heard her shocked inhalation.
