The Pantheon Saga | Book 5 | Absolute Power

by Ekeke, C. C.

  Annie’s gonna kill me. Hugo shrugged, then nodded at the waiting line. That drove them into a frenzy. Fucking wild. The door person unfastened the rope to let him in.

  A shapely female waited beside the entrance, superstrong like many of Danger Room’s bouncers. The short-sleeved leather romper put her cleavage and killer legs on display. She was tall, but Hugo had several inches on her. The right side of her frizzy purple hair was styled in Viking braids, complementing smooth coffee-brown skin.

  The bouncer smirked at him, arms folded. “Shield of Justice.”

  “Rebekah Knox,” Hugo replied in his Aegis voice, equally cheeky. “You texted?”

  Becky Knox’s almond-shaped eyes crinkled. “This way, young man.” Hugo followed her inside. Their first meeting months ago had been a violent misunderstanding. Thanks to Justice Jones’s peacemaking, Knox was now Hugo’s informer. Bouncing at superhero clubs and villain bars got her close to valued secrets.

  As they stepped inside, Hugo saw more superhero mecca than nightclub. Framed costumes and signed posters decorated the walls, along with photos and videos of superheroes in action. Wax replicas of Titan, Lady Liberty, Sentinel, and Geist filled several display cases. It dismayed Hugo that only one of them remained active.

  “The fliers’ roof entrance avoids the plebs and photogs,” Becky called over her shoulder.

  Hugo stared at her. “There’s a fliers’ entrance?”

  Becky spun around. “Aww. A Danger Room virgin.” She gave Hugo sultry eyes, fussing at his collar. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll pop your cherry right.” She gave him a love pat on the face and moved on.

  Hugo’s cheeks burned. “Cute.” He followed, reminding himself that Becky was twelve years his senior.

  Mom had taken Hugo and AJ to Danger Room’s café many times for lunch, when the club was closed.

  A night visit as a superhero was something Hugo had never imagined. Following Becky through the café to the second level, he basically entered an alternate universe.

  The best way Hugo could describe this was a costume party on steroids and psychedelic drugs. The song moving the dancefloor was “Marvelo vs Evil Genius,” a hero vs villain hip-hop duo. The rap subgenre featured two rappers battling back and forth in a song, the “villain” rhyming his schemes while the “hero” rapped on stopping them. Simple but catchy.

  Shouldering through the dancefloor, Hugo spotted Sunrider and Starchylde writhing to the music. Tonight, the pair wore sexy versions of their costumes. Blur sat at a VIP table with XT on the surface, in costume minus the goggles. He was sucking face with some striking Latina woman who happened to be spilling out of her body-hugging tube dress.

  Hugo did a double take. The woman was Rebecca Reyes.

  Is that business or pleasure? He snorted and let his eyes wander. Hugo spotted C-listers like Tatanka, muscle-bound with curved metal horns, his tight pants leaving little to be imagined. He flirted with Strobe, whose brilliant glow allowed her to get away with minimal covering. Woodstock, with a green shrub afro and skin like pale beechwood, chatted up Megaplex, a megamorph in a red unisuit accentuating his muscles.

  Hugo knew Danger Room was packed with out-of-town heroes trying out for San Miguel’s new superhero team, desperate to be seen. But he was more interested in the cosplayers and costumed fans. Some cosplayers looked like clones of famous heroes. Hugo gawked at two Aegis cosplayers whose costumes and physiques were identical to his. Other cosplayers dressing as gender-reversed heroes were a real mindfuck. Two leggy girls wore risqué versions of Titan’s iconic green-and-yellow costume, with silver-dyed buzzcuts. But with the good came the bad, like a flabby gentleman in a Missy Magnificent crop-top and microskirt.

  Hugo didn’t know where to fit that visual in his brain…or how to erase it. “Wow.”

  Becky Knox followed his disgusted stare. “Danger Room can give first-timers’ performance anxiety.”

  Hugo glowered at her. “Enjoying yourself, Bex?”

  “Little bit.” Becky stopped and pointed at the top floor where certain rooms had opaque windows. “Vanguard’s third-floor VIP suite.”

  “That’s still open?” Hugo remarked.

  “Still funded by the government,” Becky said over the booming music and directed him up the staircase. “Vulcan, Wyldcat, and Robbie Rocket were regulars.” She paused and laughed at something. “Titan swung by semiregularly. He had a thing for cosplayers. Especially when they dressed like—”

  Hugo cut her off with a hand chop. “Not interested.” He knew enough about Titan’s promiscuity.

  Becky said no more until they reached the VIP lounge door. “Find me when you’re done. I got news.”

  “Will do.” Hugo snuck a peek at the sway in her hips as she headed back downstairs.

  Opening the door, he found a spacious lounge with plush couches, and gold Vs engraved on each table and chair. Hugo couldn’t see The Vanguard in here partying it up. I felt the same about Titan being a slut. Polymer was in costume on the middle couch fretfully sipping his drink. He shot up when Hugo entered.

  “Thanks for coming.” Polymer extended a hand, which Hugo shook. “I figured neutral ground made sense.”

  “And protected you from me.” Hugo plopped down where Polymer had been sitting.

  Polymer looked like he’d choked on a chicken bone. “Want a drink? The lounge gets concierge service.”

  Hugo waved that off. Not just because he was a minor, but drinking on the job was a no-no for him.

  “You know Becky Knox?” Polymer sat, visibly leery. “Tread carefully.”

  Hugo turned, noticing how the window was clear inside the lounge. Any outside sound was muted with the door closed. Nice. “Because she occasionally bounces at so-called villain bars?” Justice Jones had spoken about Becky’s history before she became one of Hugo’s sources.

  “Cape chasing is a sport to her.” Polymer viewed Hugo’s reaction smugly. “She loves the popular ones. Justice Jones, Hyperion, Wyldcat. Even Titan from what I heard. Then there’s the villains she—”

  Hugo’s low opinion of Polymer dropped further. “We here to gossip or discuss Saracen?”

  Polymer jolted at his snappish tone. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “Saracen approached me a month ago. Said he needed my help in protecting the future of humanity.”

  Hugo arched an eyebrow beneath his mask. Polymer couldn’t be that gullible. “You believed him?”

  Polymer shook his head adamantly. “No. But he said if I refused, he’d wipe my memory of the meeting.”

  “He’s a telepath too?”

  “I guess,” Polymer supposed. Up close, he had dark circles around his eyes. “I played along to get close and eventually take him down. It’s why I never told anyone.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. “What changed?”

  “Everything he said would happen did, exactly as described.” Terror filled Polymer’s long face. His breaths grew faster. “He knew things about me that aren’t even on my file. It was insane.”

  Hugo’s heartrate quickened. He understood why Polymer was afraid. “What does he want with me?”

  “Saracen never said.” Polymer reclined on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Only that you were important to his plans. It was after grabbing your two friends that he gave the okay to contact you.”

  The memory of Brie and Jodie missing rekindled Hugo’s anger. “Has he contacted you since then?”

  Polymer shook his head again, in his own world. “And I’m fine with that.”

  “Thank you.” With that, Hugo moved to rise.

  Polymer raised a hand. “One more thing.” Annoyed, Hugo sat.

  “Would you be interested in reviving The Vanguard?”

  Hugo thought Polymer was joking. The other hero’s face showed no mirth.

  “Think about it, Hu—” Whatever reaction he saw from Hugo made him go pale. “Sorry, Aegis. You’re the new “It” hero now. Someone like you could convince the government to reup The Vanguard.”<
br />
  Hugo’s reply was an instant, massive NOPE. “Why don’t you ask yourself?”

  Polymer’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “An untested Warguard reservist? They laughed in my face.”

  The rejection in his voice reached Hugo unexpectedly. “And your teammates?”

  “Some quit.” Polymer’s stare grew unfocused as he recounted. “Others are trying at solo careers or joining the new ERATs being set up across America.” His eyes focused on Hugo. “I wasn’t blessed with a Herculean body or a combat-ready powerset.” He raised his right hand, which shifted and swelled into a large mallet. “I’m a kid from Topeka with stretchy powers who wants to protect people.”

  With that, Hugo’s dislike faded. “Powers don’t make heroes. Actions do.” He stood, heading for the exit.

  “So that’s a maybe?” Polymer called out.

  “Goodnight, Polymer.” Hugo closed the door. The discussion had helped but didn’t reveal why Saracen had targeted him.

  The balcony gave him a full view of the dancefloor. Heroes and cosplayers grooved to the music, their faces fluctuating between pleasure and pain. If not for being in costume, Hugo would’ve joined. He missed dancing desperately.

  He spotted Sunrider at a VIP table perched on some Asian pretty boy’s lap. He looked barely twenty with wild, shaggy hair. The pretty boy had to be a popstar or out-of-town superhero, especially with a ridiculous fur coat splayed open to reveal his chiseled torso. Four other Asian men similarly dressed sat nearby, all schmoozing with gaggles of ladies thirsty for their attention. Their entourage included several burly bodyguards. Hugo squinted, recognizing the superhuman K-Pop group Beasts from the Far East. They’d performed at Paso Robles’s Parthenon Stadium last night.

  Their latest hit, Beast Mode, came on the speakers. The club response was volcanic.

  The quintet smirked knowingly at each other. The lead singer, Stylo, cuddling with Sunrider, locked eyes with Hugo. He raised his glass, his human flesh transforming into sparkling crystal. The other band members raised their glasses as well. Several turned and stared, but they quickly returned to their own business. Fanboying on superheroes and superhuman celebs was taboo at Danger Room.

  Hugo stared back in a daze, reminding himself to nod. How was this his life?

  Desperate to escape the attention, Hugo scanned the dancefloor for Becky. She stood like a statue in the writhing crowd, watching him in amusement. “Rooftop,” she mouthed, then exited the dance floor.

  Hugo passed a few more third-floor VIP lounges before finding the elevator to the roof.

  The night winds howled across the roof. Hugo took in his surroundings, perfect for a flier’s landing. Below, downtown was alive and electric. Becky was waiting, silhouetted against the light pollution behind her.

  “Hey.” Hugo advanced, eager for her scoop. Becky’s prior intel helped him squash a gang war last week.

  “Your boy Polymer’s cute.” She pursed her lips as if ashamed by her confession. “From certain angles.”

  Hugo’s mood soured. “He’s not my boy.” Yet for some reason, Polymer’s plea took root. Not to revive The Vanguard. But with J-Tom being his apprentice along with what happened to Brie and Jordana, having allies made sense. “Before you tell me your thing, I need to ask something.”

  Becky frosted over. “No.” Her response was terse and stiff.

  Hugo bristled. “You didn’t hear my question.”

  “It’s written on your face,” Becky countered. “You want me to join your quest for truth, justice, and all that other horseshit.”

  Hugo had no rebuttal. “Maybe…”

  “I don’t pick sides or get involved,” Becky stated vehemently. “And I’m happier for it.” She only cared about whoever paid most as a bouncer or bounty hunter. Superhuman strength and being able to track any super by energy signature made her highly desired at the latter profession.

  That answered that question. “Then why pass me free intel?” Hugo asked.

  Becky softened. “Our first meeting.”

  Hugo remembered. She was bouncing at Paragon’s. “Because I kicked your ass?”

  “No, idiot!” Becky looked down, shuffling her feet with unusual bashfulness. “Missy Magnificent was hammered. And you protected her from assholes trying to take advantage, even though I was too boneheaded to realize then. Most heroes are disappointments away from cameras or fanfare.” She looked up at him, brimming with vulnerability. “Don’t become like them.”

  Hugo was astonished. “I’ll do my best.” Someone else inspired by him. The responsibility was frightening. “You have something?”

  Becky smiled again, her armor back on. “Since the non-cynic in me respects your mission, I have someone searching for a new cause.”

  Hugo leaned back. Between training J-Tom, Polymer's desire to team up, and now Becky bringing potential allies, the universe was sending a message. “What’s their story?”

  “Teenager from outta town,” Becky explained. “She started at Danger Room in the loading docks three weeks ago. Strong as me in her werewolf form. Interested?”

  Hugo wouldn’t commit to anything yet. He trusted Becky enough but not entirely. “I’ll meet her.”

  That pleased Becky. “I’ll bring her up to meet you.” She pulled out a cellphone and texted.

  Then Hugo reconsidered her description. “Wait, werewolf?”

  Before Becky could answer, the door behind them opened. A solitary figure stepped onto the roof. She was petite yet compact and curvy, with olive skin and dark coppery hair styled in long twin French braids. “Hi, Becky, what do…” The girl’s voice died.

  The moment Hugo saw her, smelled her, he felt jarred out of his body.

  And the feeling appeared mutual. “H…” She caught herself from blurting out Hugo’s name, glancing nervously at Becky. “You?”

  “Max?” Hugo replied, not believing his eyes.

  Mercedes “Max” Ochoa knew all about Hugo after their team-up at Halloween last year. He’d visited her twice in New Mexico since then. But they’d lost touch these last few months.

  Seeing Max at Danger Room threw Hugo’s whole world off balance.

  “You know each other! Amazing!” Becky gushed, turning to Hugo. “You’re welcome.” She sashayed to the exit.

  Hugo and Max stood on the roof, facing each other.

  “So…” The werewolf wrung her hands. “We got some catching up to do…”

  Interlude: Connie

  Currently, Connie was gagging from unbridled cheesiness.

  When she’d snuck into this apartment by walking through the walls, the owner and her guest had been busy in the bedroom.

  Now she hid in the bathroom listening to the lovebirds suck face and coo sweet nothings by the door. Jesus, they were worse than horny teenagers.

  “I don’t want you to go,” Bam-Bam whimpered.

  “I wanna live inside your pants,” Shattershot admitted.

  Bam-Bam’s laugh filled the apartment.

  Connie made a vomiting face. Were those the pickup lines that reeled her in? Really?

  “When can you come back?” Bam-Bam asked.

  “Not sure,” Shattershot admitted, sounding sad. “The team’s been doing some non-active PR appearances to repair our images. I’ll see if I can sneak again.”

  “Don’t stay away too long, babe.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, Joanie.”

  By the wet smacking noises, Connie suspected more kissing. She rolled her eyes and waited.

  “What are we going to do about my situation?” Bam-Bam’s words exposed her need.

  Shattershot sighed. “Soon. Erika took a chance on me. Why won’t she do the same for you?”

  “I hope so,” Bam-Bam murmured. “The life I’m leading. Not sure how long I can continue.”

  “I won’t let you down, love,” Shattershot crooned. More smacking noises ensued, to Connie’s disgust.

  “Okay!” He sounded winded, as if coming up for air. “Now I hav
e to go.”

  Once Bam-Bam closed the door, soft sobs floated throughout the apartment.

  Connie adjusted her jacket. Greyson had insisted on a Plan B in case his primary plan fell through, which included Shattershot’s lover Bam-Bam.

  Connie inhaled and advanced. A tingle ran through her as she walked through darkened walls and into the sparsely decorated living room.

  Bam-Bam sat slumped against the front door, shivering with sobs under that flowery robe.

  Connie snickered. “You guys are cute,” she remarked, winking. “When’s the wedding?”

  Bam-Bam rose like a viper. “Who the—?”

  Connie raised her hands peacefully. “Relax, I’m just—”

  Bam-Bam pitched a crackling green energy orb like a fastball.

  Connie made a gagging face. “Jesus. Really?” She reacted quickly. The orb shot through her intangible chest, bursting in a harmless flash against the wall behind her.

  Bam-Bam gaped, then flung more shimmering orbs. By their low blast potency, Bam-Bam clearly was holding back to avoid outside attention.

  It’s the hard way. Connie advanced aggressively, more orbs passing through her. Rapid-fire green flareups lit up the apartment. “This isn’t helping,” she critiqued.

  Bam-Bam backed away, still lobbing explosive orbs. “Did the Conglomerate send you?” Her fierceness became worry, seeing her powers have no effect. “I’m not taking any jobs again—AAKK!”

  Connie snaked out a solid hand, clutching Bam-Bam’s throat. “Calm. Down.” She never raised her voice, but the message was received. Bam-Bam powered down and lowered her hands.

  Connie relaxed her grip. “Now if you—”

  Bam-Bam sank a knee deep into Connie’s mid-section. Pain exploded into Connie’s stomach, doubling her over. She held a glowing hand to Connie’s face. “Leave. Or I’ll burn the heart out of you, bitch!”

  “Ugh,” Connie wheezed. “Soooo dramatic.” She plunged a phased hand through Bam-Bam’s chest, turning partially solid for a split-second. Bam-Bam wailed in anguish.

  Connie yanked her hand out, and Bam-Bam collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings.