Villainous (12 page)

She hesitated but couldn’t resist the first person to show her kindness in days. Sniffing, she held out her arms in the universal signal for “pick me up.” I holstered my gun and obeyed. By the time I’d stood and turned around, White Knight had reached us. He looked me quickly up and down, checking that I was telling the truth when I’d said I was fine. (Oh, all right, he was checking for weapons, too. But concern for my safety was first.) His gaze softened when he saw Mary, and when he looked back at my face, there was a slight question in his eyes.

“So I’m good with kids,” I said. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“Apparently not.” He sounded impressed. Typical. The poor man was all mixed up. The time I’d broken into Buckingham Palace and stolen the queen’s hat collection? Now that was impressive. Rescuing a little girl was so easy, a superhero could do it.

“By the way, I’m pretty sure tigers are endangered.” I climbed over the sleeping cat and Beast Queen’s body, taking the hand he offered to help. “There are probably laws against chucking them like footballs. And you knocked the poor thing out.”

“Actually, that was the tranquilizer dart.”

“Those things take forever to work, don’t they?”

“Longest five minutes of my life.”

Ah, the banter. I loved the banter. It was a shame it never lasted long. I made it over the bodies and out of the bathroom, and White Knight held out his arms. “I’ll take her from here.” He glanced at Mary.

I shifted, angling my body between him and her. “No, you won’t. I’m taking her home to her family.”

“You really think a visit to Mr. Lucifer is what she needs right now?”

So he knew who she was and why she’d been kidnapped. That saved me some explaining. “He’s her father. Who are you to stop me from taking her to him?”

“Nobody. I’m just some guy in a silly costume. The man from Child Protective Services outside is the one who gets to decide that.” His glare couldn’t quite stay entrenched on his face the way he wanted it to, and his voice softened. “I’d rather not fight you on this.”

“I’m not making you fight me. She’s my sister, Dave. I’m not going to let anything happen to her. Go check Beast Queen’s pulse or something, and I’ll leave.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

I spread out my senses. “You mean you wo—”

Screams came from the DSA agents on the front lawn. Then gunfire. White Knight’s whole stance changed. “Can you tell what’s going on?” he asked sharply.

“Seems Beast Queen had a panther, too. It’s not happy.” I tried not to sound too smug. “So you can waste time with me, or you can go save your backup from getting mauled.”

His jaw clenched. He was so cute when he was angry.

“I’m sure they’ve got it under control.” I put my hand to my chin thoughtfully. “How many minutes does it take for tranquilizer darts to work again?”

He dashed past me, and I waited until he’d made it out the front door before running down the stairs and heading for the back. Mary felt heavier than ever. I wouldn’t make it far on foot while carrying her. New plan: find the nearest car and get the heck out of here. It wouldn’t be long before White Knight figured out that there was no panther, and I’d just fooled the agents’ minds into seeing one. Then he was going to be
really
angry.

The thought made me smile as I vanished into the night.

• • •

I remembered.

Back in the here and now, I remembered who I was. I remembered Mary. I remembered everything. But I couldn’t do anything to help myself. Elisa wanted to know the address of Mary’s apartment, but telling her and Dave would be pointless. My sister would have moved me by now. But to where? Where was I? I was everywhere. I could feel every mind in the city, every thought, and it was as if someone had ripped off my eyelids and forced me to stare at the sun. It was wonderful and terrible and—

—and the cash register drawer popped open with a ding. Seriously, who paid for a ninety-nine-cent bag of chips with a hundred-dollar bill. I was running low on twenties—

—head against the lumpy pillow. I’d been so tired earlier, but now my thoughts just wouldn’t stop coming. Why—”

—beat pounded in my ears, and I downed the shot of tequila—

—kissed me, his lips—

No. Focus. I wasn’t them. I was me. I was Valentina Belmonte. But where was I? I couldn’t feel my body. Other people’s thoughts and emotions pulled at me from every side. I felt like a plume of smoke trying to stay together in the wind. If I didn’t make it back to myself soon, I’d be just another comatose telepath. Even if they found my body, Dave would have to make the decision to take me off life support.

Dave.

He was in the living room, watching Elisa pace back and forth as Irma tried Eddy’s phone again and again. Dave tried to stay still, but his right leg was twitching, his heel going up and down several times each second. His hands were in his lap because he’d break the arms of his wheelchair if he touched them, and though he was breathing steadily, the air didn’t seem to be filling his lungs. If something had happened to me… He imagined squeezing Mary’s arm until her bones snapped, then stopped himself, disgusted with his thoughts.

He could be so romantic sometimes.

He gasped and looked around, squinting as though he was trying to see the air itself. “Val?” he whispered.

It’s me,
I replied.

“Where are you?”

Not sure. Working on that.

“Mom?” Elisa asked.

Her emotions swung from worry to relief and back to worry again. Irma’s thoughts were more controlled as she looked around, drawing conclusions on what it meant that I was speaking telepathically when I wasn’t here. But anxiety came from all of them as though they shared a hive-mind, anxiety, hope, and dread. And then there was love, love for me at the root of all their current thoughts and feelings. It was so tempting to stay here with them, someplace warm and familiar. But I wasn’t here, not really, and if I wanted to be with them for real, then I needed to reconnect with my body.

“Wait,” Dave said.

I’ll be right back.

I forced myself away and tried not to get pulled under the sea of minds that bombarded me. The avalanche of countless emotions would have taken my breath away, if I could still feel myself breathing. (I really hoped I was still breathing, wherever I was.) I clung to what I’d felt with Dave, Elisa, and Irma, used my sense of self as a shield against the chaos of alien thoughts. I could do this. I’d trained to control my telepathy since I was a teenager. I wasn’t going to lose it now just because Mary had stuck me with a needle.

Mary. Amidst the ocean of minds, I sensed someone familiar. I reached for it, and suddenly, I was somewhere else. In a car. Mary was driving, a cherry-shaped air freshener dangling from her rearview mirror. Every fiber of her body buzzed with satisfaction, and she sang along with the catchy pop song playing over the radio. She tapped her fingers atop the steering wheel in time with the beat, her voice making up for in enthusiasm what it lacked in pitch. She was driving me somewhere. Where?

I dove into her mind, and reading her thoughts was as easy as breathing. I saw it all: the drop-off point was a parking lot behind an abandoned strip mall, and there was a truck that brought the psyc and rules about how many men she was allowed to bring. This was the information I needed, but it wouldn’t mean a damn thing if I couldn’t get back to my body to make use of it. Where was I? The passenger seat was empty in Mary’s peripheral vision, and she had no sense of someone lying in the back seat.

She’d put me in the trunk.

That bitch.

I tried to connect with my body but still couldn’t feel anything. What if I couldn’t make it back? What if there was no way to? Psyc had lethal side effects. This could be how it killed people.

No. Screw that. If there was no way back, then I’d make my own. I imagined what my body must feel like. It would be hot in the trunk, stuffy, and my arms and legs would be cramped. My skin would be sticky with sweat, and if Mary had tied me up, something would be digging into my wrists. Come on. How hard could this be? I knew my body. It wasn’t as young as it used to be, but it was strong and sexy, and most importantly, it was mine.

I fell. Or it felt like I fell, but it was like falling in a dream. When I hit the earth, I woke up, jerked, and hit my head on the top of the trunk.

My head pounded. Lots of parts of my body pounded. Or ached. Or felt a stabbing pain. My ribs, chest, and back hurt every time I breathed. Mary had really vented some aggression on me. It was almost enough to make me wish I hadn’t made it back to my body, after all. And to add insult to injury, I could still hear the sound of her off-key singing, muffled but audible from the front of the car. It made me want to dislocate her jaw.

Plan revenge later. Get out of the trunk now.

I opened my eyes, but darkness met me. Fine. Trunks were dark. And even hotter and stuffier than in my imagination. My arms were tingly and numb, but I could move them. She hadn’t tied me up, which was terribly careless of her. I reached out telepathically—

“Aw, shit!”

I grabbed the sides of my head and squeezed my eyes shut. My headache had gone from painful to excruciating in the space of an instant. I curled up and sucked in breath through my clenched teeth, but there was nothing to do but ride it out. Eventually, the pain subsided, leaving me panting. So no telepathy for a while. This day was turning out to be all sorts of fun.

I groped around, my fingers searching the edge of the trunk for a handle or lever. If Mary’s car was new enough, it would have some kind of release designed for people trapped inside; it was the law. But after a minute of running my hands over every available surface and feeling nothing even remotely handle-like, I gave up. Mary might be careless enough to leave me untied, but evidently, she wasn’t stupid enough to leave me an easy way out. Too bad.

I leaned my head back against the rough carpet, letting my body rest for a moment as I caught my breath. Sweat dripped down my forehead and cheeks, and my skirt stuck to my damp legs. I’d pay a million dollars to feel a cool breeze on my face just for a second. Was there any way for fresh air to get in here? It felt so hot and stuffy. How long before I used up all the oxygen and got carbon monoxide poisoning? Or would I get heat stroke first? Mary sure would feel stupid when she finally opened the trunk and found that I’d died on the way to wherever she was taking me. Yep, that would show her.

I rolled over and pushed myself up on my elbows. Okay, so there was no convenient latch. That wasn’t the only way out of a trunk. I could focus on the back seat. The car might have seats that folded down for access to the trunk. But even if I managed to push or pry it open, I’d be awkwardly climbing out less than a foot behind Mary. She was bound to notice, and she’d probably just shoot me in the face. No, my best bet was to pop the trunk when the car was slowed or stopped, and make a run for it before Mary could get out and follow.

That meant I needed to find the release cable. Unless Mary’s car was embarrassingly old, it would have a switch or button near the front seat that opened the trunk. There would be a cable running from that switch, and if I could get to it, I could pull it and open the trunk myself. (What? These are things you need to know in my former line of work.)

I felt along the driver’s side edge where the carpet met the wall and dug in my fingernails. I had to pry up the carpet. It hurt. I pulled and clawed at the stubby carpet until it felt as if I’d rip my fingernails right off. Would it have killed Mary to leave a few tools in the trunk? Maybe a pair of pliers? Hold on. Something ripped. I yanked on the small bit of carpet, and it was hard to get leverage in my cramped position, but the need to survive strengthened my arms. Success. I shoved my fingers into the small hole I’d created, felt around, and…yes. There. That definitely felt like a cable.

Survival instincts were handy sometimes, but right now, they were urging me to pull the cable and open the trunk immediately. Not such a good idea, considering it felt as though the car was going at least fifty miles per hour. Patience: it was a virtue not many supervillains had. Or else they had too much of it, spending months crafting convoluted plots that were thwarted at first contact with a costumed hero. If I waited too long, I’d suffocate. If I didn’t wait long enough, I’d ruin my one and only chance to get out of here alive.

My hair clung to my sweaty neck, and my ribs were painfully objecting to the way I was lying on my stomach. Mary’s singing still came from the other side of the back seat, mocking me. Once I got out of here, I was going to punch her in the throat and
then
dislocate her jaw. But the noise did have one benefit. Assuming the average pop song lasted about three minutes, it gave me a way to estimate how long I was waiting. She had to hit a red light or a stop sign at some point, right? I shifted my legs and flexed my feet, trying to work some feeling into my cramped limbs to prepare them for when I made a break for it.

Two songs later, the car finally slowed. Go time. I pulled the cable, and the trunk opened with a pop.

Wind whipped my hair around, and the influx of sunlight made me cringe. Mary would have heard the trunk open. I had to move fast. The car hadn’t completely stopped yet, but I rose onto my knees and squinted through the bright light. I was in the right lane of a road in the middle of nowhere, and the shoulder looked as grassy and soft as it would ever get. I jumped.

I hit the ground hard and rolled. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and I tumbled until I hit something wet. A roadside ditch filled with water. And with my luck, there were probably snakes.

Even though I’d stopped rolling, it felt like the world was still spinning. Actually, it felt more like the whole world had just sucker-punched me. I had to move, but first, I had to breathe. Mary’s brakes screeched as she stopped somewhere ahead, and if I had any breath, I would’ve used it to swear. And me without my gun. Beyond the ditch, there were palmetto trees and not much else. I might be able to hide. I tried to sit up, but my body felt as if it weighed a ton and was a thousand miles away from my brain.