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  • Generation Next: A Superhero Adventure (The Pantheon Saga Book 3) Page 22

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  “I’m sure there’s more to the story.” Hugo gave his little brother a sharp look.

  AJ quickly understood. “Can we get food, Uncle?”

  The request surprised Sione, but he acquiesced. “Sure, Junior.”

  Once they vanished around a corner, Mom turned with an emotionless mask. “What really happened?”

  Hugo quietly told her everything, except Brie’s Fall Fling knowledge. Hugo glanced back at her hospital room, shaking his head to clear it. “I couldn’t let Briseis die.”

  Mom’s furrowed sadness almost gutted Hugo. “This was Mister Quiet’s fault. Not yours.” She scanned around, making sure no one was eavesdropping. “Can the police handle this?”

  Hugo gave a limp shrug. “They still haven’t found this guy or the kidnapped students.” If San Miguel captured Mister Quiet, Hugo welcomed that outcome. Still…he wanted to find this coward first and make that bastard pay!

  By Mom’s distasteful reaction, she knew that. “I hate you being in the crosshairs,” she hissed under her breath. “But I understand. Just…”

  Hugo kissed her forehead. “Be careful, don’t get exposed. I know…” Just when he thought he couldn’t love Mom more. A shift in breath rhythms and stirring sheets from 208A caught Hugo’s ears. “Brie’s waking up.” He nodded in the room’s direction. “I’m sure seeing you would help until her parents arrive.” Despite his problems with Brie, Hugo knew Mom still adored her.

  Mom’s eyes crinkled with effusive pride before heading into Brie’s room. Hugo dialed back his hearing, not wanting to eavesdrop on whatever they might discuss. Now was the time to start searching. Except, Hugo spotted a familiar flock of girls scurrying down this corridor.

  Hugo grimaced and moved to intercept. “Jodie,” he called out, spotting the group at the visitor’s desk.

  Jordana whirled around. Her eyes widened. “Bogota!” She launched herself at him. “Oh my God! You’re okay.” She looked him over and backpedaled. “OhmiGawd! Did I hurt you?”

  Hugo chuckled. “I’m okay.” He got swarmed by J-Tom, Natalie, Spencer, Kendall, and a couple more of Brie’s friends jabbering relief at his wellbeing. Surprisingly, Lia hung back. By her body language, she wanted to be anywhere else.

  Hugo waved awkwardly. “Hey, everyone…Oh, hi!”

  J-Tom bearhugged him. “Thank god you’re alive,” she exclaimed.

  Natalie, Lia, and Kendall followed with hugs, like good lemmings. They all smelled nice. Spencer draped her arms around his neck and embraced him fiercely, surprising everyone. Not Hugo, who gladly returned her affection. She smelled like Gummi Bears.

  “Crazy, stupid bastard,” Spencer murmured tartly. Almost a compliment coming from her. “When I heard you were in the library, I…I—”

  “Not here. Glad you’re okay, Spence,” Hugo whispered before pulling away. Spencer smiled, cheeks wet with happy tears. From afar most people assumed her deep-set eyes were dark brown or black. The color was actually dark blue, like bottomless pools. Easy to get lost in.

  “Brie’s in 208A,” Hugo addressed the group, knowing their primary worry. “with my mom.”

  Jodie paled. J-Tom clapped a hand over her mouth. Lia rolled her eyes.

  “Her parents are coming,” Natalie said, wringing her hands. “How bad?”

  “Could’ve been worse.”

  The girls scurried down the corridor to find their queen. Jodie hung back, looking after her friends and then Hugo with uncertain eyes.

  Hugo caressed her cheek. “She’ll want to see you. Go.”

  Jordana smiled gratefully before Spencer dragged her away.

  Hugo watched them go, knowing what Brie and Jodie reconnecting meant. “It was fun while it lasted.” He ignored the sharp ache in his soul, scanning for his uncle and brother…

  “Of course, you‘ll have a job at my shop, Junior,” Uncle Sione said somewhere near the vending machines at the end of this hall.

  “Awesome,” AJ exclaimed. “I need money before spring break. Dallas and Alberto are going to Disneyland, and I want to go.”

  Sione laughed. “Once the shop opens, we’ll get you in on the real profits. I’ll show you the ropes, and you’ll make more money than you’ll know what to do with.”

  Hugo froze, Mister Quiet taking a back seat. Whatever Sione had planned with Mom’s money didn’t sound remotely legal. Now he wanted to involve AJ? Suddenly Hugo was marching in Sione’s direction, fists clenched, fury boiling beneath the surface. Time for Sione to leave town—

  “Hugo!”

  He jerked away from the ear-piercing shout. Hugo dialed his hearing down before turning around. “Oh jeez!”

  Simon, Brent, Raphael, Grace, Wale, and some other classmates rushed toward him. Everyone jockeying for attention and hugs or badgering Hugo on how he’d survived was overwhelming. Simon’s pointed look said, Details later.

  Hugo nodded understandingly.

  “We heard the explosion,” Marin Stanley cried.

  “And about the students who died,” Karin added.

  “Everyone thought you were one of them,” the twins said at once, dragging him into a double hug.

  Hugo went cold all over. “Oh.” That must have been horrifying for his friends.

  Simon rolled his eyes. “I told everyone you’re fine. They had to see for themselves.”

  “I love you for giving a fuck, Bogie. But next time,” Grace demanded, clinging to him as if afraid he’d vanish, “don’t be a hero.”

  “We’re just…” Wale got emotional, wiping away tears. “Glad you’re not dead.”

  “I’m glad you’re not angry for once,” Hugo quipped, drawing laughs. He bit back impatience, needing to leave. “Guys. I’m fine. I promise.” That wasn’t enough. Hugo studied his friends, seeing relief, sadness, and exhaustion. And fear.

  They all looked afraid.

  “Part of being a hero isn’t just what you need,” Lady Liberty had said once. “But what the people you’re protecting need.”

  After today’s horrors, Hugo’s friends needed him here.

  He exhaled, gesturing everyone forward. “Bring it in, fam.” Grace, Simon, Raphael, and the others advanced eagerly in a group hug. The shared body warmth seeped into Hugo’s bones, feeling so good. The collective sorrow was scorched away by this intoxicating affection. Hugo wanted to hold on to it forever.

  “We’re all okay.” His voice grew thick with love for these friends who’d showed up. He had to return the favor—by stopping Mister Quiet. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  Chapter 27

  As cold dawn light bled through the training center windows, Greyson focused on the hulking android charging at him with merciless yellow eyes.

  The automaton abruptly jerked forward as if on invisible rope, now drawn to Greyson. Right before it struck, Greyson thrust out a hand eddy-ing with repulsing gravity. His palm touched the robot’s torso, exploding it into millions of shrapnel pieces. Like hitting concrete from three thousand feet above.

  Greyson stared at the fragments with slight satisfaction. He rubbed at his shaved head and the dark-navy aerobic clothes to his sweaty frame. He’d forgotten how therapeutic cutting loose with his powers was, despite his restraint collar.

  The new daily routine kept his mind and body occupied. Wake up, breakfast, train, lunch, train, pleasure Thuraya, dinner, pleasure her more, sleep. Rinse and repeat.

  Greyson had also learned more about Amarantha from Lady Thuraya’s narrow viewpoint.

  “The supers would’ve obliterated us normals,” she’d said last night while Greyson unwrapped her out of another scant evening dress. Lady Thuraya had been educating him about the 2005 revolution when the Carneiros and other human families took over. “You supers can’t help yourselves. It’s in your DNA.” She had at jabbed Greyson's chest to emphasize. “Humans need to govern so the supers don’t destroy the island.”

  Greyson had been appalled at Thuraya rationalizing slavery. In the twenty-first century! Instead of debating, he’d
explored her voluptuous body with his tongue until her ignorance devolved into wordless moans. Lady Thuraya wasn't malicious like her father. She was just a shallow, rich twenty-something whose sexual appetite had no bottom—as Greyson kept learning.

  But Greyson voiced no complaints. He’d surrendered all control over his life, which was mildly nauseating. But a gilded cage trumped prison. Better to play along with these Carneiros and pretend to be content. Then what? Only emptiness and grief awaited outside the sphere of his new life. Greyson had no interest in returning.

  He explored this spacious training center, seeing Rodrigo bounce up like a ball courtesy of his powers. They got in half an hour extra exercise before their trainers arrived.

  “Just a warm-up.” Rodrigo beamed at the mess he’d made of several training androids. “In a few days, War Games start and we kick the crap outta Bellazul’s champions.”

  Greyson forced on a smile. “Yay.” He enjoyed using his powers again, but not to fight other supers for the so-called royals’ enjoyment.

  If Rodrigo caught his distaste, he made no mention. “Do what you did against Skylord,” he advised through narrowed eyes. “And no weepy stuff.”

  Greyson flinched from that low moment. “Thanks for the tip, Rigo.”

  “Are you boys going to keep gossiping like hens or enjoy the freedom before our trainers arrive?”

  Greyson and Rodrigo exchanged eye rolls before facing CJ, who’d joined their training for the first time.

  What Greyson saw nearly gave him a heart attack. He looked up, and up and up, craning his neck all the way back. Instead of normal-sized CJ with curlicue blonde locks, Greyson gaped up at a twenty-foot or taller or taller CJ, chucking androids like children’s toys.

  Greyson picked his jaw up off the floor. “You’re a megamorph!” How had he missed a giant stomping around the fighting pits?

  “That one,” Rodrigo grunted, more annoyed than awed. “Always mouthy like she run things.”

  In seconds, CJ shrank from giant-sized down to normal and wiped the sweat from her brow happily.

  Rodrigo shrugged, watching her approach. “Quite handy in a fight, yea?”

  Greyson glanced at Rodrigo then back at CJ, amused. The thirst in the young man’s gaze was unmistakable. “Someone’s been watching,” he snorted.

  Rodrigo blinked as if snapped from a trance. “Whatchoo mean?” His annoyance became alarm. “Uh-oh.” Rodrigo sheathed himself in the shimmery forcefield that allowed him to bounce.

  Greyson turned to see what had caused such alarm. His breath caught.

  Skylord had entered the training center, marching toward Greyson. And by the expression on his bruised face, he was furious.

  Now Skylord was in Greyson’s face, dwarfing him by over half a foot.

  Things grew tense. Fear flooded Greyson in potent waves, but he stood his ground with a calm exterior. He’d taken Skylord before, but in a fit of madness. And the Amaranthine champion hadn’t known about Greyson’s powers. Maybe talking would defuse this situation.

  But not if CJ and Rodrigo were flanking him with aggressive postur-ing.

  Greyson waved them off, eyes locked on Skylord. “I got this.” Both reluctantly backpedaled.

  He inched closer, forcing himself not to puff out his chest like an in-secure man-child, even though Skylord’s arms were thicker than his legs. “You’re going to attack me? In full view of security?” He glanced at the guards at all corners of the room, their pikes ready for a confrontation. “Isn’t that stupid?” Appealing to Skylord’s self-preservation might prevent a fight.

  Skylord quivered, about to detonate.

  Greyson braced himself for an attack, consciously increasing his gravity.

  Skylord stepped back. “You beat me fairly, Statesider.” He stuck out a meaty hand.

  Greyson stared, his brain struggling to catch up. “Well…” He accepted Skylord’s hand, shaking heartily. And like that, most of the tension deflated. “I wasn’t gonna let you kill me. And it’s Greyson, in case you’re wondering.”

  Skylord didn’t let go. “I wasn’t,” the Amaranthine remarked coldly. “Solomon Shen.” He yanked Greyson forward. “The stars that burn brightest, burn out fastest.” Solomon’s grip tightened. His dark eyes drilled through Greyson’s brain. “Dourado will be watching. From the elites and royals to the common folk and low-ranking supers. You better deliver in Bellazul, then Merenwjick, then Noordaal, then Angelique and Côte Royale.” Solomon grinned, exposing crooked teeth. No wonder he didn’t smile. “Every city in the War Games will bring their best fighters. Will you bring your best?”

  “Yes,” Greyson stammered out of fear. And to get out of this death grip.

  Solomon wasn’t satisfied. “Yes what, Statesider?”

  “Yes,” Greyson snarled at him. “I’ll bring it to those other gladiators!”

  Solomon nodded in approval and released his handshake. “Good.”

  Greyson shook his hand to regain some feeling. Solomon shouldered past him. “Some advice. Lady Thuraya will get bored.” He glanced over his shoulder and snorted at Greyson’s shock. “Think you’re the first champion she’s helped herself to?” Solomon kept walking.

  The chilling warning confirmed Greyson’s suspicions. He was Lady Thuraya’s newest bright and shiny plaything. And his favored status could end as quickly as it had begun. I better bring it in Bellazul.

  Greyson weighed Solomon’s warning as his friends approached.

  “What he want?” Rodrigo inquired.

  Greyson was loath to discuss the pressure awaiting him. “Just giving me an Amaranthine hello.”

  “Didn’t Lady Thuraya already do that?” CJ asked in amusement.

  Greyson glared at her. “Back to training.” Once the trainers arrived, they focused on conditioning with sprint drills and three miles. Greyson and CJ took well to this routine. Rodrigo was huffing and puffing less than half an hour in. The workout reminded Greyson of the training under Dr. St. Pierre.

  Before you killed him, a voice reminded. Greyson shooed the ugly memories away, losing himself in the drills and repetition…

  Hours later, Greyson lay sprawled on Lady Thuraya’s bed. His mind lingered on Solomon’s warning, distracting him from fully enjoying the wonders of her body. And reminding Greyson what he was to her.

  Hunger gnawed at his belly. By now dinner should’ve been delivered to Thuraya’s room. Greyson lifted his head from the pillows. She was adjusting a sparking, beaded red dress. The evening gown was so skin-tight Thuraya might as well have been poured into it.

  She teased him with a grin from the mirror. “I have a surprise for you."

  Greyson slumped back onto the bed, taking a guess. “Another new position?” he half-joked.

  “No, silly! That’s later.” Thuraya whirled about, her mop of black curls sweeping over her left shoulder. “A family dinner. Father has big plans for you.”

  Greyson sat bolt upright. “Oh…” He hadn’t seen Lord Gaspar since their initial meeting a few days ago. And honestly, Greyson had no enthusiasm to. The Lord of the City eyed him like property. Which is what you basically are now… That truth was hard to swallow. “But…” Greyson fished for any excuse to miss dinner. “I have nothing to wear.” Weak, but honest.

  Thuraya waved off the concern. “Just throw on anything, and bring your appetite.” She skipped crossed the room and plopped beside him. “And please smile.” Thuraya scowled. “Unless we’re fucking, you’re always so grim-faced.”

  Greyson tensed and forced on a smile. Lady Thuraya cupped his face, stretching his smile further. “Better,” she declared happily, sneaking in a quick kiss. Then a longer one. Soon Thuraya had mounted Greyson with eager kisses, her mouth hungry. “Quickie before dinner, mi dolce?”

  She’s a rabbit in heat. “As you wish,” Greyson sighed. Twisting his hips, he flipped Thuraya over.

  An hour later, Greyson’s mind still buzzed while he sat beside Lady Thuraya at dinner. The outfit she’d chosen f
or him was a simple golden tunic and matching pants. Casual but not too casual.

  Dinner included exotic salads, braised beef and pulled pork delicacies. Plus, the most mouthwatering mashed potatoes Greyson ever tasted.

  Gaspar Carneiro sat at the head of the table, wearing a dark-green button-down with a high collar, laced in gold trappings. Beside Lord Gaspar was his beautiful wife, Lady Martine. She resembled her daughter except older with pale-amber eyes and grey streaks in her mane. Also present were Thuraya’s siblings, twin fourteen-year-old sisters, and two brothers, eleven and eight. The children were polite and polished, except for how disdainfully they regarded Greyson. Like he was beneath them.

  Rodrigo sat beside Lady Martine, wearing a silvery tunic and pants.

  The Lady of the City needs a plaything, too, Greyson mused. Guards in gilded armor with pikes stood in every room corner. Rodrigo looked far too grateful for a seat at this table. Even though the Carneiros considered him a pet.

  After everyone had taken their first servings, Lord Gaspar focused on Greyson. “I see Thuraya is helping you settle in.”

  Greyson nodded, remembering to smile. The servile act made him die a little inside. “Your daughter has been EEEE—” He jumped in his seat. Thuraya grabbed his crotch under the table while acting like nothing was amiss. “Eagerly hospitable.” Greyson concluded an octave higher.

  Thuraya’s siblings giggled knowingly. Rodrigo swallowed a laugh. Martine covered her delighted mouth.

  Even Lord Gaspar grinned, fingers steepled. “No doubt. Just don’t let Thuraya’s hospitality distract you.” His sharp gaze shifted to Rodrigo. “And your transition?”

  Rodrigo swallowed a bite of braised beef and glanced at Lady Martine wolfishly. “Food’s great. Hospitality’s better.”

  Greyson genuinely smiled. Thuraya’s divine strokes made it hard to focus.

  Lord Gaspar spread his hands disarmingly. “I invited you tonight to discuss the War Games.”

  Greyson sensed the threat under the guise of dinner. “We’ll be ready to defeat Bellazul’s champions.”