Generation Next: A Superhero Adventure (The Pantheon Saga Book 3) Page 20

  Her mocking tone cut through Hugo’s defenses. For an instant he was that sad, skinny-fat kid who’d never win Brie’s love. In seconds, Hugo acknowledged and released on that self-defeating image before it took root. Knowing Brie still had such a toxic influence rankled him.

  His patience for this argument was spent. “I get that any girl finding me attractive is hard for you to imagine,” he spoke painfully slow as if addressing a dimwit. “But Jodie likes me for me. Which has nothing to do with you.”

  Brie chuckled, clasping both hands in amusement. “You’re so adorable!” Her green eyes burned with scorn. “How much is the real estate that far up your own ass?”

  “No idea, since I’m living rent-free in there.” Hugo pointed at Brie’s forehead, making her recoil. “And I didn’t turn Jodie against you.” He leaned close. “You lost her all on your own. Like you did me.”

  Brie smoldered, looking ready to punch Hugo in the mouth. He could taste the hatred in her quickening heartbeat. But Brie’s shifting fragrance confused him…akin to Jodie’s when they messed around. No. WAY!

  Hugo straightened in startling awareness, earning confusion from Briseis. Was this due to the heated argument or their proximity? Did she even know? Regardless, finding whoever was turning kids into suicide bombers consumed his focus. “Goodbye.” He turned to leave.

  “I know about Fall Fling.”

  Hugo froze, thinking he’d imagined hearing that.

  Brie shattered any ambivalence with another sneering whisper. “You and that anorexic slutbag nearly beating Baz, TJ, and DeDamien to death.”

  Her words hung like an ax over Hugo’s neck. Only Baz Martinez could’ve told Brie this. Suddenly, Hugo wanted to be swallowed up by the floor. His hypersensitive hearing went haywire, flooding his ears not just with voices around the library but all over campus. A history class’s boisterous debate. A biology teacher berating a cowed student. Lia Kim’s sobs from the girls’ restroom downstairs.

  Brie’s voice jarred Hugo back to the library. Disturbed, he dialed his hearing down to normal.

  “Baz made me swear to not tell,” Brie bragged. “Oopsie, I lied.”

  Nausea crashed into Hugo hearing Brie so smug and in control. He fixed his expression as much as possible and turned. Images of his life flickered before his eyes, including a looming supermax prison. Brie stood before him, hands on hips, clearly enjoying herself.

  Hugo had to think fast, find an out. Will it matter if Brie rats me out to the cops?

  “Sebastian trusted you with a secret, and you betrayed him,” he replied coolly. “Sounds familiar.”

  Brie’s smile vanished, like clouds over a sunny day. “Baz’s scared of you. I’m not.” Her trembling voice said otherwise.

  Hugo advanced. “Doubt that.”

  Brie backpedaled, still arrogant. “Whatcha gonna do, Bogie? Beat me up? Break my jaw? Stomp on my knee?” Each taunt carried a low, wicked rasp.

  Baz told her everything. Despite Hugo's rising panic, he smothered any thought of silencing Brie by force. That wasn’t how he operated, hero or not.

  “No one else knows,” Brie taunted. “But that can change.”

  Right then, a memory jostled loose, and Hugo found his escape. Calm settled over him. “Now what? You gonna tell everyone?” Hugo demanded. “Get me arrested?”

  Brie opened her mouth smugly. Nothing came out. The hesitation on Brie’s face was somehow humanizing. For the first time in months, Hugo recognized her. Did Brie even want to rat him out?

  Hugo brushed that foolish hope aside with his counterpunch. “Because if you say anything, Baz, TJ, and DeDamien go down with me.”

  Befuddlement swept away Brie’s reluctance. “Explain that logic, Einstein.”

  Hugo straightened, uncertainty swirling within. Maybe Brie already knew this fact and didn’t care. Yet, this might be the only deterrent keeping Hugo from prison. “Your boyfriend and his buddies beat up on my girl—ex-girlfriend.”

  Briseis’s face drained of color.

  “I’m guessing Baz forgot to mention that,” Hugo goaded, secretly thankful.

  “You’re lying,” Brie decided curtly.

  A confident smile stretched across Hugo’s face. “I have recordings. Presley screaming for help as Baz and DeDamien kicked and tossed her around. TJ gut-punching her.”

  Brie staggered back, all her poise deflating.

  Hugo, still scared out of his mind, couldn’t falter. His freedom was at stake. “So, go ahead. Tell everyone about Fall Fling. I’ll ruin your boyfriend’s life. And his little friends’, too.”

  Briseis stared ahead blankly, eyelids twitching.

  Hugo should’ve ended there. But he couldn’t resist the exclamation point. “Baz is a real catch, huh? You assholes deserve each other.”

  Brie’s green eyes sparked to life, shiny with tears. Her hand flashed up, cracking Hugo across the cheek. He felt no sting, turning his face with the slap. Or else Brie would’ve broken her hand. “I hate the new you,” she snarled.

  Hugo stared back, hollowed out. “You hated the old me.”

  A scream shattered the quiet tension between Hugo and Brie. More loud gasps were followed by several students yelling and stampeding for the doors.

  “What’s going on?” Hugo frowned at the scene beyond the aisle. Standing in the center of the library before the librarian counter was a chunky, shaggy-haired Filipino boy. The same boy Hugo had seen checking all the library doors.

  The boy was shaking and scared. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Hugo quickly saw why. The boy wore a bomb vest like Kevin Coleman two nights ago, counting down at twenty seconds. Hugo’s heart gave a dreadful lurch. Behind him, Brie gasped.

  The hefty librarian took charge. “Get to the exit!” She waved panicked students forward.

  Hugo snapped into action and grabbed Brie’s arm. “We gotta go!” Once everyone left, he’d double back for this poor kid.

  Seventeen seconds on the clock…

  To Hugo’s dismay, the librarian jerked on the doorknob repeatedly. “The doors are jammed!”

  A burly student from Hugo’s class yanked on an emergency exit door handle with no luck. His panicked stare swept the whole library. “These, too!”

  Terror dominated the library as students shrank away from their fellow student-turned-bomber.

  Brie stumbled backward, exclaiming her panic in Greek.

  “Mister Quiet made me do it,” the Filipino boy wailed. “I’m sorry!”

  Everyone in this library would die, unless Hugo saved them. Amid the screams and pounding on locked doors, his strategy unfolded. Superspeed that kid off campus and rip the bomb off him in time. Which would expose Hugo as a super. The realization chilled him.

  But with lives at stake, Hugo had no choice.

  Thirteen seconds left…

  He stepped out of the aisle to run. Only for Brie to drag him backward by his belt.

  Hugo whirled on her, furious. “What the hell?”

  Brie looked frightened. “No, Hugo!” She shook her head feverishly, seeming to sense his plan without knowing of his powers.

  Seven seconds…

  The bomber’s eyes were squeezed shut.

  Hugo jerked free from Brie’s grasp.

  Three seconds…the bomb detonated early.

  Hugo raced forward superfast, the world slowing to a crawl.

  Everyone froze mid-panic, mid-flail, mid-scream. Even the small fiery balloon devouring the Filipino boy’s midsection slowed. He was already dead.

  Hugo swallowed his horror and focused on the bystanders. From a quick sensory sweep, he counted twenty-three people in the library, including himself and two librarians. Hugo raced around, stacking three girls from class on his shoulders. He remembered his training, decelerating slightly to not injure anyone at superspeed. With a swift kick, he shattered the library entrance apart and tossed the trio out as gently as possible. Hugo whirled and rushed back in. He snatched up two more students, tos
sing them out the gaping entrance. Too fast to be seen, Hugo ran back and forth, throwing classmates out to safety. Everyone in the hallway seemed to float out as time stopped for them. Under different circumstances, Hugo would’ve found the visual cool.

  Meanwhile, a fiery balloon wreathing the Filipino boy’s stomach steadily consumed him. Hugo looped around the glowing orange mushroom incinerating or knocking tables and chairs askew in its path.

  Even at superspeed, Hugo’s time was limited before that explosion annihilated the whole library. After tossing the librarians into the hallway, Hugo spotted Brie where he’d left her. The blast’s concussive force threw her backward at a snail’s pace. Decelerating even a little meant Brie’s demise. Hugo raced to her…until another slowed heartbeat registered. He glanced in this other girl's direction, huddled in a book aisle a few rows down.

  Terror squeezed Hugo’s chest so tight he could barely breath. The brilliant explosion mushroomed unhurriedly yet voraciously toward the book aisles. Hugo saw his choice; save a stranger…or rescue someone who could ruin him. Hugo only had time to save one.

  Hating himself, he chose and rocketed forward.

  Reaching his choice, Hugo gently wrapped his arms around her. And the inferno walloped him from behind.

  He grunted, thrown into the book aisles. In that fraction of a second, Hugo panicked at what multiple collisions could do to the frail body in his arms. He rolled mid-flight, his back taking the brunt as flaming tongues roiled hungrily at him. Hugo’s shoulders finally struck something solid. He slid down the wall, hitting the ground. Gasping for air, Hugo got on all fours and checked his cargo. She sagged in his arms, head lolling back. Hugo panicked. Did I hold too tight? Did she hit something?

  The danger wasn’t over. Churning fire charged at Hugo, ripping through wooden aisles like tissue paper.

  “Fuck!” He threw himself over her half a second before fiery waves bathed them. Hugo shielded her as best he could. His durable skin could withstand the heat, but it wasn’t comfortable.

  The flames soon receded. Hugo pushed up on his elbows and shuddered. The library was destroyed. Hugo found himself trapped between piles of burning books and shattered aisles alight with towering gold flame. Beyond the roaring inferno, Hugo heard alarms blaring and unanimous shock across campus.

  Heat radiated everywhere, prickling Hugo’s flesh too close for comfort. It took him a moment to notice flames shooting off the back of his t-shirt.

  Hugo bounded up and ripped it off, leaving him shirtless.

  He focused on the motionless girl on the ground. Disheveled auburn waves pooled around her soot-stained face. Grime covered her dress also. There were small cuts on her legs and a thin red slash across the cheek. Hugo heard shallow breaths and a heartbeat.

  Hugo knelt and cradled her face. “Briseis? Say something.” She moaned, alive but unconscious. His heart ached in relief. Hugo moved to scoop her up, until a cavernous groan caught his ear. Like a giant clearing its throat.

  Hugo frowned, looking up as the entire ceiling buckled, collapsing onto him and Briseis with a thunderous roar.

  Chapter 25

  “Thanks, everyone, for coming,” Missy Magnificent declared from the stage, clutching a microphone. “And your donations.” She looked amazing in a black cocktail dress, sleeveless and low-strapped, dirty-blonde hair teased back.

  The event took place at Obispo Hotel in Arroyo Grande, San Miguel’s second largest suburb, hosted by Missy’s charitable foundation. The two-grand-a-person private lunch funded college grants for Junction-based teens. Many of San Miguel’s elite were attending, eager to rub elbows with Missy on her comeback tour. Auctions included dinner with Missy and two of her old Extreme Teens costumes. Missy worked the crowd with stories about The Junction, peppering in jokes and that megawatt smile. “Onto our next auction…”

  Montgomery Major lingered in front of the stage, Svengali-like, cheering his wife. Colin and Shelley were filming at different positions in the ballroom. Missy and Monty had everyone fooled.

  Everyone except Quinn. She hung in the back, arms folded, glaring at the ‘superhero’ onstage. Quinn hated getting deceived. Spending lunch today helping a genuine hero like Hugo angered Quinn more over Missy’s dishonesty. And I though Tomorrow Man was a fraud.

  She hadn’t told anyone about Missy’s staged fights. Aside from being hard to accept, Quinn had zero proof beyond Hugo’s word. Getting evidence had been stymied by that Brahma guy making bail an hour after his arrest.

  Quinn had devised another plan to get a potential confession from Missy. It was risky. And it had to happen today. The longer Missy’s deceit continued, the more liable SLOCO Daily could be in spreading it.

  Nearby, Jess Richardson-Palmer was snarling displeasure at two interns she’d brought to assist. Despite Jess being pixie-sized, both college seniors trembled before her wrath. “Are you trolling me?” she scolded tartly, holding up a cellphone displaying a blurry, poorly lit picture. “In what alternate universe is this picture useable?”

  “None?” offered one intern, a plump biracial girl named Naomi.

  “So, she does have brain matter between those ears.” Jess shoved the phone into Naomi’s hand. “Now use it to take quality photos for SLOCO Daily’s VIP subscribers. Or else!”

  Quinn watched Naomi and the other intern trip over themselves while rushing back into the crowd. By Jess’s satisfied smirk, she clearly enjoyed tormenting interns.

  She turned and skipped back to Quinn, shedding her venom like a cloak. Creepy. “How fun is this?” Jess gushed, clutching Quinn’s arm. Jess was dolled up and, by her rosy face, a tad liquored up.

  “Mind-blowing,” Quinn offered flatly. Jess had stayed close today, also ordering Colin and Shelley around like some esteemed film director. Quinn needed her gone. But how?

  Jess’s hazel eyes bulged at something beyond the reporter. “Look who’s here?”

  Quinn turned and cringed. Dave Packer lumbered toward them, red-faced and smiling in his usual white button-down and slacks. That was the last person Quinn needed. “Hi Packer,” she greeted, fighting for calm.

  “Quinn.” Packer cast an impressed gaze at the gathering. “Quite a party.”

  “Missy can work a crowd,” Quinn replied as the superhero earned laughs from her audience.

  Packer nodded distractedly. “Got a moment, Jessica?” His possessive stare curdled Quinn’s stomach. “Some sponsor concerns came up.”

  Jess stared up at him with captivated eyes. “Of course.” Packer guided her toward an exit.

  Quinn gave a huge sigh. With Jess and Packer occupied, she turned focus on Missy. The superhero mingled in the crowd, her and Monty charming the socks off an older couple while Colin filmed nearby.

  Now or never. Quinn scurried up as Missy and Monty moved to another of San Miguel’s elite.

  “Missy.” She put on a friendly smile. “Can we chat off camera? Alone?” Quinn eyed Monty pointedly.

  “Of course!” Missy said with her dazzling smile. Once she waved her confused husband away, Quinn led her by the hand to a side exit.

  The reporter then secretly clicked her cellphone’s recorder app with her free hand. The hotel bathrooms weren’t private, so she found an empty service closet.

  Missy was oblivious and smiling even when Quinn locked the door behind them. “What’s up?”

  Quinn closed her eyes, silently praying for courage. “I need an honest answer from you.”

  “Okay.”

  Here we go… Quinn opened her eyes, facing Missy. “Are you paying any criminals to lose for you?”

  Missy recoiled like she’d been slapped. “What?” Shock became rage. “Is this a sick joke?”

  Quinn didn’t shrink from Missy’s retort, getting in her face. “Yes? Or no?”

  “No!” The superhero purpled. “Why would you think that?”

  Quinn wanted to believe her. But couldn’t after what she’d seen superheroes do to maintain their place. “If you’re lying, I wi
ll expose you and ruin you,” she promised, jabbing her finger at Missy.

  The threat crumpled Missy’s anger, revealing a frightened teenager. “I’m not paying anyone to lose fights for me!”

  “Why didn’t that Brahma guy finish you the other day, Missy?” Quinn didn’t bother staunching her anger. Not when someone had lied to her. “He could’ve ended you. WHY?”

  “I don’t know!” Missy stumbled back, tearing up. “I was hungover—”

  Quinn rolled her eyes at the excuse. “I read about another of your battles,” she said. “You struggled against human gang members. Take responsibility.”

  Missy’s eyes narrowed, her face turning peevish. “You’re not my mother!”

  “No,” Quinn threw back. “I'm a journalist covering your so-called comeback, while you’re busy partying.”

  The air thickened with tension. Both women glared at each other for a long moment.

  Until Missy started to cry. “I know I’m out of shape!” she sobbed. “I nearly lost to a loser I should’ve owned two years ago. God, Monty was right.”

  Quinn leaned away from this slipup. “About?”

  Missy flapped her hands at her face to regain composure. “I didn’t want to patron The Junction,” she wailed. “I wanted St. Louis after Hurricane died. Or Miami.” Missy wiped her tears with dainty fingers. “But Monty kept saying start small, and a shithole like The Junction proves I’m serious about my career!”

  Quinn stepped back and absorbed this. “Protecting The Junction was Monty’s idea?”

  Missy nodded feverishly. Despite her power and presence, she looked so fragile and young.

  Quinn rubbed the bridge of her nose, sensing an incoming headache. Somehow, she believed Missy. The girl had her demons, but she didn’t come across as a mastermind. Montgomery Major, however, oozed shadiness.

  Quinn pressed further. “Were The Junction sponsors his idea, too?”

  “Yes,” Missy sniffled. “I need to get my career back,” she pleaded. “Be-ing a superhero is my life.” Missy sank to a knee, her body racked with sobs again.

  Quinn now felt terrible. Either Missy was a good actor—doubtful from the Extreme Teens films Quinn had researched—or she was Montgomery Major’s pawn. She crouched, taking Missy’s hands in her own. “Some free advice,” she said firmly. “Stop partying. Get in fighting shape. Or you will get yourself or an innocent civilian killed.”