Generation Next: A Superhero Adventure (The Pantheon Saga Book 3) Page 23

  “Of course,” Gaspar stated, victory an afterthought to him. “But something else needs your talents.”

  Lady Martine spoke. “The night before Bellazul’s War Games, House Carneiro will dine with House Perez, Bellazul’s ruling family.” The refined accent of Amarantha’s upper-class flavored her voice. “You and Rodrigo will attend.”

  Greyson exchanged a worried look with Rodrigo. From what he’d heard, House Perez controlled a chunk of Amarantha’s factories and oil fields. Greyson didn't know if this was normal, but immediately accepted this as another gift. “Yes, my lord.”

  Lord Gaspar glanced at his wife then back. “Aren’t you curious why?”

  Greyson wasn’t stepping near this trap. “I’ve learned not to ask questions.”

  His response drew laughter from the Carneiros, as if they'd seen a dog do something simultaneously cute and stupid. That dog would be me, Greyson realized, blushing.

  “You’re training him well, daughter,” Lady Martine joked after recovering. “We will announce that Thuraya will break her engagement to Xavier Fourmon, the heir to Côte Royale.” She gestured at her daughter. “Allowing her to marry Caspian Perez, Lady Nadia Perez’s eldest son.”

  Thuraya shook her head, giving Greyson’s crotch a loving squeeze. “Lies! I’m still marrying Xavier.”

  The announcement was like cold water pouring down Greyson’s back. He hadn’t known Thuraya was betrothed. Which meant his time as her plaything would end sooner than expected. Fear seized him tighter than Thuraya’s grip. “What’s the real game, my lord?” he inquired.

  Lady Martine offered a devious smile, a spitting image of her eldest daughter. “A coup.”

  Lord Gaspar took a long sip of his wine before explaining. “Bellazul has been Dourado’s fiercest rival for years. War has almost broken out between our cities many times.” The Lord of Dourado’s features hardened in pure hatred. “But given Bellazul’s mountain location, there is no way to sneak attack from anywhere on the island without them catching wind. So, we will show you off during our dinner with House Perez and deactivate your restraint collars. Then…” Gaspar slammed a fist on the table. Everyone jumped. “You and Rodrigo wipe them out.”

  “After their deaths,” Lady Martine added, as if discussing house renovations, “Bellazul will be dowry for Thuraya’s marriage. She and Xavier rule together, solidifying Houses Fourmon and Carneiro’s union.”

  Lady Thuraya glanced at Greyson, her adoring expression saying, aren’t my parents great?

  Greyson barely noticed, stuck on the order to slaughter innocents. He thought of Lauren and crushing her bones in a whirlwind of anger. The life fading from his former lover’s eyes still haunted his dreams. Then there was how easily Greyson had compacted Dad into a ball of broken bones and bloodied flesh. Grief seeped through his veins. Not for killing the old bastard, which he still relished, but for what that had surely done to his mother and sister. Greyson closed his eyes to stop incoming tears. Maybe he should have jumped out of that Sunbridge window days ago.

  “A question if I may, my lord,” Rodrigo asked, returning Greyson’s attention to the feast.

  Lord Gaspar nodded. “You may.”

  Rodrigo cleared his throat. “After taking out House Perez, you be surrounded by their soldiers. And they will see your armies coming.”

  Greyson grasped why Lord Gaspar was so confident. “Unless there’s an underground attack?”

  Lord Gaspar exchanged a quick brow raise with his wife, impressed. “The benefit of dominating Amarantha’s mining trade. During our dinner, my forces will enter Bellazul through subterranean caverns and destroy their armies. You two twill kill House Perez on my signal.”

  Thuraya draped loving arms around Greyson’s shoulders. “Didn’t I say Father had plans for you?”

  Rodrigo bowed, eager to serve. “As you command, Lord Gaspar.” All eyes turned to Greyson.

  Don’t you dare grow a conscience, Ghost-Lauren’s voice whispered as Thuraya’s fingers stroked his neck. You know what happens if you do. Once again, Ghost-Lauren spoke the truth.

  A glance around the ornate room showed no sign of his ex-lover’s ghost.

  If Greyson refused, they’d find another assassin. Then he might be killed. And these last few days, Greyson had rediscovered this pesky desire to live. Thank God the real Lauren wasn’t here to see what he’d become.

  “As you command, Lord Gaspar,” Greyson repeated with a fake smile, taking the coward’s path again.

  Chapter 28

  “I’ve searched the campus after the authorities and cleanup crews left,” Hugo explained, openly frustrated. “Mister Quiet’s liger was definitely at Paso High. But with the explosion and so many people around school, the trail’s gone cold. Same with the places where the students were kidnapped.” He clenched his teeth in anger. “How could no one notice a liger move in plain sight?”

  “There’s got to be another way he’s getting around San Miguel,” Mrs. Ortiz replied, one arm resting on the couch headrest. “Check the sewers beneath your school and where those students were kidnapped.” She sat with Hugo in his living room speaking quietly, wearing one of the loudest off-the-shoulder muumuus in her wardrobe, her long hair in a donut bun. It still cracked Hugo up knowing that one of the most powerful heroes in the world disguised herself as an airy-fairy flowerchild. With Uncle Sione helping Mom cook in the kitchen, they had to speak more quietly. Zelda, setting the table, wandering in and out of the kitchen.

  “Hadn’t thought of that.” Hugo ran a weary hand through his stubbly hair, noticing some growth. Maybe he’d grow it out again. “I’ll look after dinner.”

  Four days had passed since the bombing, which made national news. All San Miguel Schools, including Paso High, were closed until Mister Quiet had been caught. To Hugo’s chagrin, teachers still emailed schoolwork.

  He’d been interviewed by local police and the FBI. Lying to San Miguel PD had given him some guilt. But the FBI had scared the crap out of Hugo. Thanks to Ms. Ortiz’s coaching, he’d survived their grilling. Reporters had swarmed the house for two days, which made leaving to hunt for Mister Quiet difficult. Thankfully, their interest eventually died off.

  Mister Quiet had gone dark. No other bombings or kidnappings. But Hugo was more determined to find the bastard and whomever he’d kidnapped.

  His cover story of staying home to rest had brought several friends and some teachers over. Even Briseis’s parents had stopped by, barely able to occupy the same room without arguing. And Hugo saw the resemblance. Brie’s Egyptian father, not striking or fit, had beautiful green eyes. Brie’s Greek mom was clearly where she’d gotten her beauty.

  “Briseis is on bedrest or else she’d be here, too,” Mrs. El-Saden stated.

  Hugo hadn’t seen or spoken to Brie since the hospital, and preferred it that way. His head was still a mess over their library confrontation…and what she knew. Since the police hadn’t come to arrest him yet, Brie hadn’t told anyone about Fall Fling. But that could change.

  “Now,” Mrs. Ortiz straightened, looking ready to quiz him. “When you find his lair, you’ll do what?”

  “Case the scene for booby traps, hiding spots,” Hugo replied lazily. “And hostages.”

  “Then?”

  “Take him out with minimal or no monologuing,” Hugo recited, not taking this lightly.

  Mrs. Ortiz’s smile split her face as she clapped like a peppy cheerleader.

  “What are they talking about?” Uncle Sione’s nosiness vibrated from the kitchen. “Does Betty run his mysterious internship?”

  “Betty’s helping him through the school bombing,” Mom answered patiently. “Leave them be.”

  “Is Betty single?”

  “Single mother,” Mom answered. “She’d not interested, Sione.”

  “You don’t know that,” Sione scoffed

  “Yes, we do,” Zelda declared territorially, entering the kitchen. She disliked Sione, too. Smart girl.

  “Dam
n.” Sione sounded chastened. “That girl has a mouth.”

  “One of Zelda’s charms,” Mom muttered, a smile in her voice.

  Hugo grinned. Like Sione had a chance with Ms. Ortiz. All kidding aside, his uncle had become problematic. Not just his invasive curiosity. Hugo would handle him after dinner. He focused on Mrs. Ortiz’s next words.

  “The new suit will be ready tomorrow,” she promised. “Picked your new alias?”

  “Yes!” Best news Hugo had heard in days. But he didn’t want to get too excited until seeing the final costume. “My alias is—” He hushed as Mom pushed open the kitchen door.

  “What are you two cooking up?” she asked softly, approaching her son and her neighbor.

  Hugo glanced at Ms. Ortiz. “Talking about Mister Quiet.”

  “And how young Hugo will handle him,” Ms. Ortiz added, grinning.

  Mom’s eyes bulged. “Ah.” She’d known about Hugo training with Lady Liberty since day one. Mrs. Ortiz had revealed her true identity to Mom on day two, which still weirded Hugo out. But the reveal had strengthened Mom’s friendship with Mrs. Ortiz.

  “Do you feel you’re ready?” Mom asked, watching her friend expectantly.

  “I’ll be fine, Mom,” Hugo replied.

  Despite the assurance, worry fluttered across Mom's face. She was about to say more until Mrs. Ortiz gave a nod, indicating that Sione was exiting the kitchen with Zelda.

  Mom understood. “We’ll eat after AJ comes home from Dallas’s house.”

  Hugo rose from the couch and heard a car pull up outside. Familiar voices were inside. “AJ’s back.”

  Uncle Sione gave him a wary onceover. “What are you, a bloodhound?”

  Hugo grunted. “You’re just deaf.” He headed for the door, steeling himself before opening. AJ high-fived his brother, then bounced inside to greet Mom and Mrs. Ortiz, fist-bump Zelda, and hug Sione.

  Hugo barely noticed. Abby Dunleavy stood at his door, outlined against the pink sunset in a tank top and tight jeans, pixie-cut blonde hair teased back with a headband. She looked hot as hell, smelling like sin.

  Hugo gulped, loins stirring. “Hey, Abby," he said with a nonchalant expression.

  That drew everyone’s attention. Especially Sione, who eyed her creepily.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Mom greeted.

  Abby waved. “I wanted to check in. I got to the hospital and you'd checked out.”

  Her concern was a pleasant surprise. Hugo played it cool with so many spectators. “Got a clean bill of health, so I didn’t hang around.”

  “Good.” Abby hesitated before turning to leave. “Alright. Bye.”

  Hugo ignored Sione's WTF look. Annoyingly, Mom interjected. “Are you hungry, Abby?” She gestured at the dining table. “We have an extra seat and extra food.”

  Hugo glowered at her. Mom gave an encouraging gaze. Real subtle.

  AJ, always unhelpful, chortled. Zelda grinned.

  “The plot coagulates,” Mrs. Ortiz cooed, drumming her fingers together.

  WHY? Hugo briefly squeezed his eyes shut from the public humiliation.

  Abby waved off the offer. “I don’t want to intrude.” Her hopeful gaze said otherwise.

  This was a bad idea, but they had extra food. “Uh…come in.” Hugo nodded at the table. “Have dinner.”

  Abby brightened like a Christmas tree. “Okay!” She glided through the door. Dinner was excellent, as usual. Conversation was boisterous with four Samoans at one table. Mrs. Ortiz and Zelda were used to this. Abby joined in fearlessly, busting Sione’s balls on his absurd stories, flirting with Hugo, talking about when her family lived in Texas. Hugo so didn’t regret inviting Abby to dinner.

  After Mrs. Ortiz and Zelda left, Abby stayed to help with dishwashing. Mom went upstairs to rest. Hugo heard AJ and Sione’s lively banter in the common room. They’d grown close. He almost regretted what must happen with Sione.

  Hugo approached Abby with the last cup for the dishwasher. “One more.”

  She reached for it. “Thanks…OH!” Abby yelped as the glass slipped…

  …as Hugo had dropped it before she’d grabbed hold, then caught in his other hand. He winked.

  Abby relaxed and came down from her tiptoes. “Ass,” she giggled, snatching the cup.

  “How ya holding up?” Hugo asked, closing the dishwasher.

  Abby leaned against a countertop. “I wanted to ask you, after the explosion.” She searched his face.

  “I’m fine,” Hugo said, stony in expression. Abby intrigued him, but not enough to be an open book. He sat on the countertop beside her. “Kinda rattled about the students who died.”

  “Honestly?” Abby’s eyes fell. “I’m freaked out. The bombing, what happened to you, and even Briseis, whom I hate, the missing students.” She hugged herself. “What if they don’t find them—”

  Hugo rested a hand between her shoulder blades, easing Abby’s shivers. Her skin felt deliciously soft beneath his fingers. “Someone will stop this guy,” Hugo assured. “I promise.” Himself hopefully.

  Abby met his unwavering gaze. Within seconds, hope sparked in her deep-blue eyes. She shook her head with a rueful smile. “Sorry for killing the mood. Happy thoughts, Abby.”

  Hugo realized his hand lingered on her back and awkwardly withdrew it.

  Abby cleared her throat, resting her elbows on the countertop. “Where’d your mom get that insane cinnamon-frosted pastry?”

  Hugo leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. “You like donuts?”

  Abby snorted at the question. “Who doesn’t like donuts?”

  Hugo considered this. “Vegans, who I think are supervillains hellbent on eradicating tasty food.”

  Abby’s laugh caressed Hugo’s earlobes like a lover’s kiss. “Right?”

  “Pastry shop in Pismo called D-Lish,” he said with a broad smile. “It’s got all the donuts.”

  After several more minutes of flirty bantering, Abby took her leave. Hugo was surprised by his pang of disappointment while walking Abby to her car. “Go straight home,” he instructed, wagging his finger. “And lock your doors.”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “Okay, Dad.” She softened. “Thanks for worrying.”

  Hugo shrugged. “Sure.” They were just getting to know each other, but Abby’s company was easy to enjoy.

  She measured him with a smirk full of dirty intentions, contradicting her near-seventeen years. Everything about Abby contradicted her age. This one’s trouble. “It’s time we set up our playdate,” she decided.

  Hugo was lost. “Playdate?”

  “Mmmhmmm. AJ and Dallas can play together.” Abby’s voice got all smoky as she grazed a finger down Hugo’s torso. “And you can play with me.”

  What the WHAT? Abby’s seductive proposal struck Hugo with cannonball-like impact. It took considerable effort not to start drooling. “Sure,” Hugo replied, an octave higher.

  Abby’s eyes flashed in triumph. “Love it. I’ll call ya with the time, the day, the blah blah blah.” She patted his cheek, spun around, and got into her car. “Ciao!”

  “Whaaaat?” Hugo uttered as she drove off. He was already regretting this playdate in the best way.

  “Damn, Bogota!”

  And Hugo’s mood curdled. Uncle Sione waited at the front door, smiling. “That girl wants to ride you like it’s her job. Get there!”

  Hugo advanced on his uncle, hands in his pockets. He’d been anticipating and dreading this conversation. But it had to happen. “Can we talk?”

  Sione tensed at Hugo’s somber tone. “Sure.” He closed the door behind him.

  “Here’s the thing,” Hugo began, inhaling a deep breath to steady himself. “You staying here isn’t working.” Hugo couldn’t take back his next words. But to protect Mom and AJ, he didn’t care. “You gonna pay Mom back the money you borrowed and leave San Miguel. Tonight.”

  Sione blinked and chuckled, thinking his nephew was joking. When Hugo didn’t smile, his mirth faded. “Excuse you?”

&n
bsp; He got in Sione’s face, anger contained, voice ice-cold, feet welded to the earth. “I know about your surf shop,” he admitted. “A money laundering hub for the East Bay Island Boys gang.”

  Sione paled. “What…How the…?” He gaped at Hugo like he’d never seen him before. “That’s not true."

  Hugo shook his head, disgusted. “Don’t lie. It’s rude. You’re using Mom’s money to start your dirty business and want AJ involved? Fuck no.” Hugo waited for Sione’s next move.

  Sione finally recovered, sizing his nephew up with a look Hugo had never seen before. Like an enemy. “Oh, you’re a big man now?” He spread his arms in challenge. Sione was feeling cocky. “You can’t prove shit. I ain't leaving.”

  “Wrong answer.” Hugo assumed his uncle would respond this way, and deployed his counterstrike. “If you stay, certain authorities that caused you to leave San Francisco weeks ago will know where to find you.” And from what Hugo had learned, these weren’t the kind of law enforcement someone wanted on their tail. “Then there are the baby mommas you owe child support.”

  “WAIT!” Sione stepped back, terrified, almost tripping over the front porch stairs. “I can’t leave tonight,” he protested. “I have to pack—”

  Hugo waved off the concern. “Already handled.” He’d speed-packed Sione’s bags before Mrs. Ortiz had arrived. “Now,” Hugo added, trying not to smile, “the money you owe Mom. With the $15,000 you just borrowed and all the other money she’s given you since you arrived, the number is $18,968.05?” He shrugged at Sione’s disbelief. “I’m good with math.”

  Sione was seething but ultimately toothless. “You think your mother's perfect?” He curled his fists, like those could hurt Hugo. “Savelina isn’t the saint she claims to be, Bogota.”

  Hugo’s hand twitched, eager to teach his uncle some manners. But this was his last gasp of defiance, so Hugo just snorted in amusement. “Mom put up with you this long.” He grabbed Sione and spun him around to face the front door. “Now go inside and say goodbye.”

  Hollowed out, Sione did as ordered. He addressed Mom and AJ right before repaying Mom’s money.

  AJ was devastated. “No, Uncle!”