Aphrodite's Secret (14 page)

It was starting to get late, and it was definitely past his bedtime. The sun had fallen below his window, and the room had already gotten darker. As the sun continued to sink, it would just get worse. And even though he knew there weren’t
really
any worse things in the dark than there were in the light, he still didn’t want to be all alone in the blackness.

The floor was cold, but the bed squeaked and smelled funny, so Davy plunked down on the floor and took off his sneakers. With his left shoe, his belt buckle, the broken arm of his glasses, and his Walkman, he could probably make some sort of light fixture out of the toilet. It wouldn’t be as cool as his SpongeBob lamp back home, but it would keep him out of the dark. He went to work, happy to have something to do other than sit on the floor watching the shadows move on the wall and wondering if his mom would show up before morning.

A little while later, when the sunlight disappeared completely, it didn’t matter. He’d used the wire from the broken glasses and the metal from his belt buckle and connected them to the back of his red light-up tennis shoe. He’d used the batteries from his Walkman as a power source, along with the water in the toilet bowl, since water was a conductor. He thought it was cool that the toilet now glowed red.

However, he only had one shoe left. He could’ve used both and made the toilet even brighter, but the right shoe had the tracking device he’d invented, and he was pretty sure Elmer would see where he was on they Lite-Brite map and tell someone. He didn’t want to give that up.

His tummy growled some more, and he wondered if anybody was going to come to bring him food— or if there was even anybody around. Curious, he pulled what remained of his glasses from his pocket and balanced them on his nose. With only one arm they tilted sideways, and he had to cock his head so they didn’t fall off.

As soon as he looked through the lenses, the walls started to go all fuzzy, and soon they disappeared altogether. The lenses were the ones his mom had bought, except Davy had added an X-ray coating. He hadn’t told his mom, because he didn’t figure she’d want him to be messing with them—especially since she’d had to use “plastic” to pay for them, and that always made her grumpy. But Davy had wanted to be like his Aunt Zoë. And since he couldn’t see through walls on his own, he’d used the chemistry set at his best friend Eric’s house.

The set belonged to Eric’s brother, but according to Eric’s mother, “Ricky was flunking out of tenth grade because he couldn’t stop listening to that darned, infernal music.” So Davy had figured Ricky wouldn’t care too much if he used his chemistry set.

Now Davy was even more glad that he had. Without these glasses, he wouldn’t be able to see outside this room. Not that there was much to see. Just more rooms like his, but with no one in them. And a long, empty hall with no one in it.

He squinted, turning his head even more sideways to try to get a better view down the hall.
A shadow
. And it was moving.

Holding his breath, he backed up, half hoping it would go away and half hoping the shadow belonged to someone who was bringing him dinner.

Still... what if the shadow belonged to a monster? Unlike his friends at school, Davy knew that there were real monsters, and they had to live somewhere. He was pretty sure that a dark, scary island dungeon would be the perfect place.

The shadow kept coming, looming bigger and bigger. An orange light flickered on the polished walls, both it and the shadow getting nearer. And then a man appeared, a black cape swirling around him. His face was made of orange fire and dark shadows.

Davy couldn’t help it. He screamed.

“Hopping Hera,” Mordi hissed, aiming the flashlight at the magnetic keypad on Davy’s cell. “You’d think you’d seen a ghost.”

He shifted back to Jason’s form and opened the door. Lane’s kid was huddled in the corner, half a pair of glasses hanging off his face and his eyes wide behind their lenses.

Damn
. The kid was really scared.

Well, considering the circumstances, Mordi couldn’t blame him. In fact, he felt a little guilty, adding to what had to already be the worst day in the kid’s short life. “It’s just me, okay? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Davy said. He crawled out of the corner and tucked his broken glasses carefully into a pocket. “But I thought you were a monster.”

“And you
are
scared of monsters?”

Davy nodded. “Aren’t you?”

Mordi frowned, sure there was some pop-psychology way to answer that question, but nothing brilliant came to him. “Yeah, kid,” he finally said, figuring he might as well go with the truth. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

He’d be especially scared if he was stuck like this kid, in a dark room with—

He broke off the thought with a frown, then glanced down at his flashlight. Sure enough, he’d turned it off, just like he’d thought. So where was that odd red glow coming from?

Squinting into the cell, he noticed an otherworldly looking toilet. “Davy, did you . . . ?”

The boy nodded. “I don’t like the dark,” he said simply.

“
You
did that?”

Another nod.

Chalk one up for the kid. Hieronymous had said the boy was a genius. Maybe it was true.

“If it’s dark, my mom and Aunt Zoë won’t be able to find me,” Davy added.

Mordi thought of Jason Murphy, out there somewhere and surely pissed. Especially if word had gotten to him about how Mordi was impersonating him. “What about your real dad?”

Davy shrugged, looking a little sad. “I told you, he’s an astronaut. He’d come if he could, but he’s stuck in space.”

Not a bad rationalization for parental failure, Mordi thought. Too bad it wasn’t true of his own father. Hieronymous had been right there during Mordi’s formative years. But despite his physical presence, his father had been absent. The situation had sucked then, and it sucked now. Mordi couldn’t help but hope Jason really did manage to find and rescue his kid. And then stayed with him.

The odds, though, weren’t in his favor.

For one thing, this island was hidden by a cloaking device, making it invisible to both mortal and Protector eyes. For another, Hieronymous had rigged it with all sorts of traps designed to make sure no Protector could get through.

Yes, the island was quite Council-proof. Which was a pity, because Mordi really didn’t want Hieronymous to steal Davy’s brainpower. And at the same time, he wasn’t at all sure that he was up for the job of preventing it. Foiling his father in secret was one thing. It would be quite another to openly oppose him, to see that usual faint glimmer of disappointment change to outright hatred.

All he’d ever wanted was approval from his dad. And if he did anything to help save Davy, he could pretty much toss that possibility right out the window.

He cocked his head, his eyes going back to the jerry-built toilet. “So, you’re a smart kid, huh?”

Davy shrugged. “I guess so. My mom’s making me go to private school next year. If she can figure out how to pay for it.”

“Don’t you want to go to private school? I bet you’d get even smarter.”

“Yeah, but Eric goes to my old school.”

“I see. Is that your friend?” Mordi tapped a finger against his chin, thinking. “So maybe you’d rather not be quite so smart.”

“I dunno,” Davy said. “Maybe.”

“Makes perfect sense to me.” Mordi stepped farther into the room. “Be normal, hang out with your friends.” He nodded, more to convince himself than Davy. “Yes, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad after all.”

“Mister?”

Mordi jerked his head up, realizing he’d lost himself in his thoughts. “No matter,” he said, striding to the child. He carried a bag of food for the kid, and now he plunked it down on the little table, next to the remains of what had once been a Sony Walkman.

“I hope you like peanut butter and jelly,” he said, pulling a sandwich out of the bag.

Davy nodded, then hobbled over, his right foot bare.

Mordi rolled his eyes. “What’s with the shoes?”

“The other one’s in the toilet,” Davy said, as if that made perfect sense.

“And you’re walking around wearing only one because ... ?”

“ ‘Cause Elmer needs it to find me.”

“O-kay,” Mordi agreed. Whatever fantasy made the kid happy. He pointed at the sandwich. “Dig in.”

Davy did, and Mordi leaned against the wall, watching the kid scarf down the boring little meal. He half-snorted, the possibility of rescue by tennis shoe amusing him.

The glow of the toilet caught his attention, and he frowned. Then again ... If the kid could turn a toilet bowl into some sort of art-deco light fixture, then Hera only knew what he could do with a tennis shoe. He was a genius, right?

A small smile played across Mordi’s face, and he hoped the kid was as smart as Hieronymous thought. Maybe Jason or Zoë would find him after all. “Stay on your toes, Davy,” he whispered. “Maybe your daddy will come through for you.”

“Mordichai,” Zoë repeated. Was she right? Was her cousin really the culprit? That seemed to be the only reasonable explanation, what with the fire the kidnapper had used. That was one of Mordi’s skills.

But Mordi? She didn’t want to believe it was true. Despite everything, Zoë had a soft spot for her cousin. And after Mordi’s most recent adventure with Hale and Tracy, Zoë had hoped to Hera he’d turned over a new leaf. If this new hunch was right, though, Mordi had yet to extricate himself from his father’s shadow.

Lane shook her head, a jumble of emotions playing across her face. “What fire? And what does Mordi have to do with this? If he has Davy ...” She trailed off with a shiver.

Zoë couldn’t blame her. Lane’s past encounters with Mordi hadn’t exactly been warm and fuzzy. For that matter, Mordi had put Davy in danger before.

She opened her mouth to explain, but Deena got there first.

“When Zoë launched a bucket of fish at the kidnapper,” Deena said, “fire shot from his fingers. And then, in the water, when he was wrestling with the dolphin, this ball of fire appeared out of nowhere.”

Lane scowled. “In the water?”

“Yup.” Deena nodded. “Sound like anyone we know?”

Lane met Zoë‘s eyes. “Mordi,” she agreed.

Zoë shook her head in annoyance. “I should have realized sooner,” she said, once again realizing she simply wasn’t at her best.

And if this was all true, Jason was innocent and Zoë had wasted valuable time detaining him.

Deena took her hand. “You couldn’t have known. And the Council has been searching for Davy since he disappeared, so it’s not like we could have done anything differently.”

“Why couldn’t Zoë have known?” Lane asked, her gaze darting between them. “I thought all your halfling weirdness had settled down, that all you had to do was take off your glasses to see a shape shifter’s true form. Didn’t you see that it was really Mordi?”

“Well, yeah,” Zoë said, not really sure how to explain. “But right now I’ve—”

“Got a cold,” Deena said. “A nasty cold. Maybe allergies. We’re not sure.”

Lane’s confused expression morphed into one of concern. “And it’s messing with your powers? Like Hale?”

Zoë nodded, grateful both for Deena’s fast thinking and for her brother setting the precedent: He had the unfortunate habit of sneezing himself invisible when his allergies got out of control.

“Do you want a Claritin?” Lane asked, starting to rummage in her purse.

“No, no,” Zoë said. “But we probably ought to head back in and see what Jason’s found out.”

Lane licked her lips, obviously wanting reassurance. “So you trust him now? You think he’s okay?”

“I’m not sure I—” Zoë cut herself off as she noticed a photograph taped to the refrigerator, partially hidden behind a pot holder. Something about the image seemed familiar, and she looked closer. Sure enough, the image permanently recorded in the candid snapshot was Lane and Davy playing at a park. The picture had been taken maybe a week ago. Zoë moved the pot holder. Beneath, previously hidden, was another photograph, this one several years older. There were three, actually—a strip of pictures taken in a carnival photo booth. Lane and Jason were there, happy and very obviously in love.

And yet Jason had left. Why?

“Zoë?” Lane called from the hallway.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t kidnap Davy now.”

Whether she trusted him in Lane’s life was another question altogether.

Jason wasn’t thrilled about having Officer Boring attached to his hip, but the baby-sitter had been Zoë and Lane’s compromise. For the most part, Lane had won—after all, Jason was back on his houseboat, doing what he had to—but Zoë had insisted that Boreas be part of the deal. Which meant that, for the foreseeable future, Jason had a shadow.

Oh, joy.

“It would go a lot faster if you closed some of the other programs you have running,” Boring said, his finger snaking over Jason’s shoulder to point at the screen. “And why are you going to the official file on Hieronymous? You don’t really expect him to have taken the kid to one of his registered locations, do you?”

Jason gritted his teeth and breathed slowly, hoping that by the time he finished, Boring would have accidentally stepped out the back door and into the Pacific.

No such luck.

“You want to search?” he said. “Then get your own computer. This is my party.”

In truth, Boreas was right. But Jason’s machine was busy compiling the results of the other searches he was running, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to speed it up.

Rather than feel useless, Jason had resorted to obvious sources of information—and held fast to the hope that he might get lucky. Hours had passed, and so far neither he nor any of the Council had found even a hint as to Davy’s location. Jason was working on adrenaline and coffee alone. And even though he knew he should take a break and get some food while the computer did its thing, somehow he couldn’t seem to drag himself away.

So he sat here, plodding through entries, the vibrant white light of his monitor the only illumination in his small living room.

Behind him, Boring slurped coffee, then dragged over one of Jason’s footstools and kicked his feet up.