Aphrodite's Secret (34 page)

So help her, she did.

They were going to put their family back together and push the past behind them. And they were going to live happily ever after. Everything she wanted, Jason could give her. At some point, she’d had to let go and just trust her heart.

She turned back into the houseboat, going straight for the glass door at the rear, to watch Jason and her son. Jason wasn’t there, but Davy was, sitting next to Boreas at a small metal table, clearly waiting for his dad to return.

And then Jason stepped into view, and Davy’s face lit up. Lane smiled, seeing how easily her boy went to Jason now. But then Jason kicked the table, knocking Boreas backward. At the same time, he grabbed his son around the waist, then ran to the edge of the boat, pulling a Propulsion Cloak out from under his jacket.

Mordichai.

As Davy screamed, Lane did, too. But it was too late. Mordi was long gone, flying toward the horizon and into the sunset.

And once again, he had her baby.

Lane’s scream still hung in the air when Zoë saw Jason—the real one—dive from the top of his boat into the water, hot on Mordichai’s trail.

The clatter of feet rang out on the stairs, and Lane barreled down them, Taylor and Elmer right behind. They followed Zoë onto the patio, racing to Boreas’s side.

“Mordichai,” Zoë said.

Boreas groaned, pushing the table off him. “I didn’t recognize him as a shape shifter until it was too late.”

Lane brushed tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “We have to go after them. We have to find Davy.”

Boreas shook his head. “Jason shouldn’t have gone,” he said. “Directive eight-two-seven-b is clear. It was proven back at the island when Jason almost got himself killed. And you’re Davy’s mother, so you’re even more involved. Plus you’re not a Protector. We have to get backup. The outcome of this isn’t predictable, so Directive nine-four-four-c prevents us from rushing in. It’s too dangerous.”

Lane stared at the cadet, her fists clenched at her sides. “This is my
son
, Boreas. And we’re going after him.”

“But regulations . . .”

“Boreas!” Zoë snapped, her heart wrenching. She clutched her stomach, thinking about her unborn child.

“But the rules ...”

“Oh, please! I’m sorry Prigg yelled at you, but screw the rules,” Zoë said. “Call in backup, but take Lane and get to that island.”

Boreas’s gaze dropped to the ground, and to his smashed holo-pager. “I think it got busted by the table.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of getting backup,” Zoë said. “You two just go.”

Lane took the young Protector’s hands. “Please,” she said.

Boreas swallowed.

Lane dropped his hands and turned to Zoë. “Fine. If you won’t, Zoë will take me.”

Zoë shook her head, wishing she could. “I ca—”

“I’ll
do
it,” Boreas said. “I will.” He nodded, as if convincing himself. “I mean, it may not be regulations, but it’s the right thing to do.”

“It is,” Lane said.

Boreas pointed a finger at her. “But no running off on your own. You stick with me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s dangerous,” he added.

“I know,” Lane agreed with a nod.

“Willingly taking a mortal into peril. . .” he muttered. “They’re going to kick me off Olympus for this.”

Lane leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

He scowled, then shot Zoë a glare. “At least you’ll be going down with me. We’re
both
taking her into peril.”

Zoë licked her lips. “Uh, I’m afraid you’re on your own there.”

Taylor frowned. He’d been silent, but now he spoke up. “What are you talking about? We have to go help, too.”

“I can’t. I’m—”

“Are you kidding?” Taylor asked. “Of course we have to go.”

Again, Zoë shook her head. “We’re too slow by boat—at least with any boats
I
know how to use.” She turned to Boreas. “You’ll have to travel by Propulsion Cloak, and you can’t carry all three of us.”

“We’ll take your cloak,” Taylor said.

Zoë bit her lip. This wasn’t how she’d planned to tell him. “I can’t,” she said, dodging the issue. “My powers are acting up. I can’t trust myself to keep a Propulsion Cloak in the air. It’s just Lane and Boreas, I’m afraid.”

Taylor pressed his hand to her forehead.

Lane frowned. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor said at the same time.

“I’m fine,” Zoë said. “Great, in fact.” She took Taylor’s hand. “I was looking for a better way to tell you, but—”

“Zoë?” Taylor interrupted, the concern clear in his voice. “
What
?”

She shot an apologetic glance Lane’s way, then tugged Taylor back toward the door, out of earshot.

Concern flashed in his eyes. “Sweetheart, you have to tell me what’s up.”

She couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. “I’ve been
trying
to tell you,” she said. “These aren’t exactly the circumstances I’d wanted, but...” She paused, drawing in a breath. “I’m pregnant.”

The worry in Taylor’s eyes faded in an instant, replaced by joy and love. His hand immediately went to her stomach. “Oh, babe, that’s ... oh, wow.” He blinked, and a huge grin spread across his face. All at once, he threw his hands around her waist and picked her up, swinging her in a circle and laughing. “That’s wonderful!”

She laughed. “Yes, it is. But it’s messing up my powers.”

Taylor looked back toward Lane. “So, you meant it when you said—”

“I really
can’t
go. I physically can’t get there. We might be halfway over the ocean, and then
plonk
, we’d fall in.”

He gnawed on his lower lip, looking at his sister. “I don’t want Lane to go either. Boreas can go alone. Lane hasn’t got any powers. She’ll just be—”

Zoë pressed a finger to his lips. “I know. You think she’ll just be in the way.” Her husband’s hand was still on her belly, and she covered it with her own. “But, believe me, she’s going if she has to swim there. Personally, I’d rather she go with Boreas.”

Lane fidgeted on the deck as she watched Taylor and Zoë. They all needed to go—needed to hurry up and retrieve Davy—and she shifted her weight from side to side, trying to stay calm and fight the hysteria fast building in her chest.

After a few minutes, her brother and his wife came back, hand in hand and positively glowing. She had a feeling she knew what they’d been talking about, and Taylor’s expression confirmed her suspicions. Pushing down her misery about Davy, she ran to Taylor and spared a moment to share his joy. She gave her brother a quick kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations,” she whispered.

“You knew?”

She shook her head. “I guessed.”

Zoë laughed. “I’ve been trying to tell him for days.”

Lane threw her arms around her sister-in-law. “Oh, Zo! This is fabulous,” she said, and Boreas seconded the comment. “But—”

“Go,” Zoë agreed, pointing toward the water. “We’ll talk later.”

Lane glanced at Taylor, who looked a little shell-shocked, but in an ecstatic he-man-look-what-I-did kind of way. She gave him another quick kiss on the cheek, and he squeezed her hand and swung an arm around Zoë‘s shoulder. “Go on,” he said. “My baby needs his cousin back.”

“Right,” Lane said. She looked at Boreas. “Let’s go kick some Outcast butt.”

Boreas shifted his weight from one foot to another. “I want to,” he said. “But I don’t know where we’re going. Not exactly.”

Taylor cocked his head. “But you were there.”

Boreas nodded. “Yeah, but Jason programmed the boat’s autopilot. I never saw the coordinates. I can get us to the general vicinity, I guess ...”

A fresh wave of fear twisted Lane’s stomach. “That won’t do us any good. The island’s invisible, remember? Without the exact location, we’re screwed.” She kicked at one of Jason’s deck chairs, then collapsed to the deck, a fresh flood of emotion bursting forth. “We have to find him. We have to do something.”

“How did Jason find it last time?”

Lane frowned. “The Lite-Brite map. But—”

She clamped her mouth shut.
Elmer
. She needed Elmer.

“Lane?” Zoë prompted. But Lane was already rushing through the boat toward Jason’s bedroom, the ferret and the map.

It might not be a GPS, but it was better than nothing.

What had he done? Oh, what had he done?

Mordi paced, skirting the edge of one of the little rivers of water that ran through the main cavern. A few feet away, his father tested the straps that bound Davy’s arms, legs, and chest. A helmet kept the terrified boy’s head firmly in place. The machine nearby beeped and hummed with life.

Hieronymous was taking no chances. There was one of the little orbs Mordi had seen him pitch at Jason centered on the contraption’s flat control panel—just in case. Everything else was set, already turned on, so that at the stroke of midnight the machine did its thing.

All Mordi had to do was get through the night without throwing up.

From his chair, Davy stared up at Mordi with pleading eyes, his mouth taped shut to keep him silent. Mordi looked away, unable to meet the child’s glance.

“Your performance today pleases me, Mordichai,” Hieronymous said.

“Thank you, Father.” The words came out as a croak, and Mordi cleared his throat.

“Come.” Hieronymous gestured for his son to approach.

Mordi swallowed but went, even as Clyde glowered at him from the corner.

Hieronymous pressed his hand to Mordi’s back. “You will stand at my side as this great moment occurs,” he said. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall. “Only one more hour. Sixty short minutes, and I shall be more brilliant than anyone can imagine.” He sighed, thrusting his hands in front of him and flexing his fingers. “It is a great day. Is it not, my son?”

“Yes, sir,” Mordi said. “A great day.”

He stepped back a pace so he could lean against his father’s machine, afraid that his legs would give out otherwise. He felt queasy and faint and generally nauseous, and right then he wanted more than anything to turn back the clock. But he couldn’t. Which meant that he didn’t know what the hell he
could
do except go along with his father.

He just hoped like hell that Jason returned in time and somehow managed to save his son.

Jason approached from the water, moving with the stealth of a shark. Since Davy’s escape on Tuesday, Hieronymous had beefed up his security, and it had taken Jason over an hour to get past the new and improved booby traps—not to mention the time it had taken to get from the marina to the island.

But he’d made it, and now he was in the middle of the island stronghold’s main chamber, floating just under the surface of the water, waiting and watching.

From his peculiar angle he could see Davy, strapped into an ominous machine and looking terrified. Clyde wasn’t in his field of vision, but Jason assumed he was up there. Hieronymous stood at the machine’s controls, Jason’s lapdog of a half brother right beside him.
Damn Mordichai
. From what Jason had picked up, the guy had been on the verge of going straight. So, what the hell had happened?

Hieronymous strode forward, his arms out, his cloak fluttering. He tilted his head back and laughed, a joyous sound that made Jason ill. But at the same time understanding dawned. Looking at his father, Jason sensed the man’s power, the personal presence that only a rare few possessed. Mordi had gotten sucked in by it.

Not that his father’s charisma mattered, of course. All that mattered was freeing Davy.

A digital clock hung from the ceiling, counting down the time. Thirty minutes and forty-eight seconds. He had just half an hour to rescue his son.

Careful not to make a sound, Jason emerged from the water only far enough to peer around. He needed to locate Clyde, get the lay of the room, and plan his attack.

He’d rushed after Mordi the second he’d seen the creep take off with Davy. Without a Propulsion Cloak, he hadn’t been able to catch his brother, but he’d kept up with the pair from below the water— at least until they’d arrived at Hieronymous’s island. Mordi and Davy had entered from the air, going through the appropriate entrance. Jason had had to fight his way in from the sea.

Which all meant he was sadly lacking in tools. When Mordi had absconded with Davy, Jason had been reading the paper on the upstairs deck, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Fortunately, he’d seen a lost diver’s knife on the ocean floor, otherwise he’d be entirely without weapons. As it was, he didn’t have much of an arsenal. Soggy clothes, a rusty knife, and Davy’s ballpoint pen.

Oh yeah
. The odds definitely favored the house.

A ear-piercing electronic wail filled the room, like 10,000 car alarms on steroids. Jason’s heart picked up its tempo, and he slipped back under the water, afraid Hieronymous’s surveillance technology had somehow detected him.

Clyde stepped forward into Jason’s line of sight. “An intruder, sir.”

“Thank you, Clyde. I believe I discerned that on my own,” Hieronymous hissed. “What I have
not
yet figured out is how an intruder has penetrated the complex again. Are your sentries not in place? Did you not increase our defenses? Did I not make myself clear that anything less than perfection tonight would be
severely
punished?”

Clyde nodded, backing away. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I’m sure the intruder has been captured already, sir. I’ll just go—”

“Do that,” Hieronymous said.

As Clyde backed away, a scuffle erupted in the corridor: a flurry of activity, followed by five guards with angry faces. The guards parted, pushing someone forward.
Lane
! And following right behind, Boreas was bound with his own cuffs and lariat.

“Ms. Kent,” Hieronymous said, walking over to stand in front of her. “How good of you to join us. It was remiss of me not to send an invitation. Foolishly, perhaps, I didn’t think you would accept.”

“Please,” she said, “let me have my son.” A tear trickled down her cheek, but she looked the Outcast straight in the eye without flinching. Jason silently gave her points for that, even as his mind sorted through what the heck to do now.