Jinx

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  Joanne jerked her head toward them. “Back to finish what I started. To kill Prism, just the way she killed Berkley.”

  “That’s suicide. She’s an ubervillain. They both are. And Prism still has her laserama.”

  Raw, naked pain filled Joanne’s eyes. “I don’t care. I just want her dead.”

  I grabbed her arm. “Berkley wouldn’t want you to die, Joanne. He wouldn’t want that for you. He saved you. He threw himself in front of that laser so you could live.”

  For a moment, I thought Joanne was going to shake me off and charge back toward the smoking laser. But some of the rage faded from her purple eyes, and she nodded.

  “All right. What now?” she asked.

  I shielded my eyes against the harsh glare of the rising sun. Sometime during the middle of all this, night had given way to dawn.

  “We wait for the cavalry to arrive and hope the ubervillains leave us alone until then. Somebody had to hear those explosions and call the police. Surely, there’s somebody else out here besides us.”

  I was right. A few boats floated in the water around the yacht, and people were already gathering on the other decks. Although they didn’t look much bigger than ants, I could see them pointing and talking and gesturing. I waved my hands and jumped up and down, hoping someone would spot me.

  “Help us!” I screamed, even though no one could hear me. “Please help us!”

  Then, the most wonderful thing of all happened. A helicopter appeared on the horizon. A big, black, beautiful helicopter bearing the F5 insignia. It drew closer, and I realized just how big it was. This wasn’t your one- or two-seat chopper. Oh no. The thing was huge. An entire fleet of superheroes could sit inside. In fact, it looked like something the Coast Guard would use to rescue people stranded in bad weather out on the bay.

  “A helicopter,” I said, shaking my head. “They even have a freaking helicopter.”

  But now was not the time to chastise Sam Striker Sloane about his expensive equipment, especially not when one of them was going to save my sorry ass. I waved my hands, urging the Fearless Five to land the chopper on the deck so we could climb aboard and soar away to safety.

  I spotted Hermit at the controls, with Mr. Sage in the copilot’s seat. Striker stood in the open door, ready to hustle us inside. The chopper drew nearer to the yacht, whipping my tangled hair around my face. Suddenly, Hermit pushed the stick back, and the chopper snapped up, up, up into the blue sky.

  “Where are you going? Come back! Come back!” I screamed, although the wind tore away my words before anyone could hear them.

  A moment later, a grenade exploded where the helicopter had been. Hangman and Prism had noticed the chopper too—and were coming right at the three of us.

  Joanne didn’t hesitate. She ran at Prism and plowed into the other woman as if she were a linebacker for the Bigtime Barracudas football team. The two women went down on the deck.

  Hangman’s eyes lit on Debonair’s still form, and he marched toward the fallen superhero.

  “Go, Bella! Run! Save yourself!” Debonair said as he got to his trembling feet.

  I looked around for something I could use to fend off Hangman. Debonair was in no shape to stand, much less have another knock-down, drag-out fight with the ubervillain. Hangman would kill him.

  But there was nothing on the deck. Not even so much as a loose metal pipe I could crack the ubervillain across the head with.

  So I stepped in front of Debonair. Hangman snickered. He looked amused to see me defending the superhero. I suppose he had a right to laugh. After all, he had at least a foot and a half and a hundred pounds on me.

  “Get out of the way, little girl. Or I’ll throw you overboard,” he snarled. “After I break every bone in your body.”

  “You’re not going to hurt him anymore,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Hangman reached for me. And I did something I’d never done before—I gave in to my power.

  Fully, completely, absolutely.

  I let the static electricity build and build and build around me. Then, I reached for it. A strange sensation, an odd force, enveloped me, almost like there was an enormous hand wrapped around me, guiding my every movement.

  Hangman came at me, but I ducked out of his grasp and kicked him in the ankles. The motion surprised the ubervillain, and he stumbled forward, hitting his knees on the dinghy.

  “You’re going to pay for that, bitch,” he snarled.

  “Then come and make me, you bastard!”

  So he did. Or tried to. Hangman stalked me around the deck, trying to wrap his massive hands around my throat, as well as punch and kick me into next week. But somehow, just before his hand connected with my face, he’d slip and fall. Or I’d jerk out of the way at the last possible second. We did a strange dance around the deck, bobbing and weaving at each other. I felt in total control of my body and completely not at the same time. But I went with the weirdness. It was the only thing keeping me alive. Somehow, my jinx had turned into a run of good luck.

  Hangman tried to punch me, but slipped and fell to his knees again. A flash of movement caught my eye, and I turned.

  “Now, it’s your turn to die, bitch!” Prism screamed above the roar of the hovering helicopter.

  She stood over Joanne, the laserama pointed at the other woman’s chest. They were too far away, and there was nothing I could do.

  Prism pushed the button. A red beam shot out—

  And nothing happened.

  Prism pushed it again.

  Nothing happened.

  Joanne didn’t crumple into a heap. A smoking hole didn’t suddenly appear in her chest. Her eyes didn’t flash red with fire as her internal organs cooked inside her body.

  Instead, Joanne smiled. A big, wide, wolfish smile that showed off every one of her white teeth. Prism looked at her laser, then at the other woman. Confusion entered her reddish eyes. The laserama must have missed because Joanne sprang to her feet and started clawing at Prism again.

  But I had my own problems to worry about. My power threw me to one side. Hangman’s fist punched the air where I’d been a second ago. He came at me again. And again, my power pulled me out of the path of his enormous beefy fist.

  “Stand still!” he snarled, white spit flying from his thick lips.

  “Go to hell!” Not the best or most original of retorts, but it was all I could come up with.

  Hangman and I fell into a weird sort of dance. He tried to punch and strangle and snap me in two. I dodged his seeking grasp and got in what blows I could, but they didn’t really hurt the ubervillain—only his manly pride. I let my power take over my body, twisting me like a puppet. My body turned and moved in ways I hadn’t even dreamed were possible. The Bendy Brawler would have had a hard time keeping up with me.

  Debonair slumped against the side of the boat, too injured to do anything but cheer me on with his encouraging eyes. While I danced with Hangman, I also kept an eye on Joanne and Prism. They were engaged in their own sort of dance, although Joanne was doing far more damage than I was.

  Prism got in a lucky punch. Joanne stumbled back and fell on her ass. The ubervillain used the opportunity to run over to Hangman, who was still trying to knock me into next week.

  “Forget about them! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Prism screamed, clipping herself to Hangman’s utility belt. “Fly! Fly! Fly!”

  With my remarkable ability to elude him, and the Fearless Five helicopter hovering overhead, Hangman knew when he was beat. He gathered his strength, wrapped an arm around Prism, and looked up at the sky.

  I watched in horror as the two ubervillains lifted off the yacht. My eyes went to the Fearless Five chopper. It was more stable than it had been when the grenade had exploded, but Hermit still struggled with the controls. They wouldn’t recover in time to give chase to the ubervillains.

  Prism was going to get away. The woman who’
d hurt Debonair, who’d killed Berkley, was going to sail away into the sky free as a bird.

  Not if I could help it.

  “Luck be a lady!” I screamed as loud as I could.

  The sapphires in the angel charm’s eyes flashed on and off in warning. I unsnapped the clasp, reared back, and threw the bracelet with all my might. I’m not much of a thrower. I never played baseball or softball or anything like that in school. So I reached for my power, willing the small silver chain to soar higher, faster, farther. Just when I thought it was going to fall short, a gust of wind snapped up the bracelet, and it somehow hooked itself onto Hangman’s utility belt.

  Five seconds later, the bracelet exploded—taking Hangman and Prism along with it. One second, the ubervillains soared in midair. The next, they disappeared in a ball of orange fire that would have made Fiona very, very proud.

  “How did you do that?” Joanne asked, mouth agape as pieces of ash and other things I didn’t want to think about fluttered by us on the breeze.

  I just shrugged. “Sometimes, it’s better to be lucky than good.”

  32

  ‘If you touch me again, I’m going to take that tube and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine,” Joanne snapped.

  I stared at the other woman, who glared at Mr. Sage. The superhero looked at me for help, but I shook my head. I wasn’t about to argue with Joanne. She’d just lost her husband and helped save my life in the space of a few hours. As far as I was concerned, she could do whatever she wanted.

  Joanne crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her head up high, as if she were the queen of the world, instead of covered in enough blood, grime, soot, and ash for a whole legion of firefighters.

  “I’m fine,” Joanne protested. “Just a little bruised and sore.”

  “You’ve got several serious cuts, not to mention that bump on the side of your head. Now hold still.”

  Mr. Sage dabbed some more ointment onto Joanne’s face. She turned her head away and refused to look at him.

  Joanne, Debonair, and I were in the sick bay at Fearless Five headquarters. Hermit and Mr. Sage had gotten the helicopter under control enough to land on the yacht. Striker and Hermit had stayed behind to help the fire and police departments handle the cleanup, while Mr. Sage and Karma Girl whisked us injured folks back to headquarters—blindfolding us, of course, so we couldn’t see where we were going. Even though I knew, Joanne and Debonair didn’t.

  Mr. Sage had seen to Debonair first. The superhero had a broken arm, cracked ribs, a broken nose, and a major concussion. Mr. Sage gave Debonair a sedative for the pain before setting all the bones and sticking him in another room. His injuries were serious, but not life-threatening.

  Then, the superhero had gone to work on Joanne and me. I happily submitted to Mr. Sage’s ministrations. He announced I had gotten through my ordeal with just a few minor cuts and bruises, mostly from all the debris flying around Prism’s yacht, as well as from Jasper’s bombs. Joanne was a little more banged up, but not too bad off, considering she’d gone toe-to-toe with Prism. I still couldn’t quite believe she’d somehow escaped getting smoked by the laser.

  “Enough!” Joanne snapped, knocking away Mr. Sage’s hand. “I want to see Berkley. Where is he? Where did they take him?”

  “Bigtime University Hospital,” Mr. Sage said. “They pronounced him dead on arrival. I’m so sorry, Joanne.”

  She stared at Mr. Sage. Pain, grief, anger, and more emotions swirled in her violet eyes one right after another. “Give me some drugs or blindfold me or do whatever the hell you have to do to protect your precious anonymity, then take me to the hospital.”

  Mr. Sage’s green eyes flicked to at me, and we both looked at Joanne.

  “What are you waiting for? Now!” she snarled, her hands tightening around the metal rails of her bed.

  “As you wish,” Mr. Sage replied.

  He went to the cabinets that lined one wall and took out a syringe and a small vial. He came back to Joanne and injected the clear liquid into the IV already pumping fluid into her arm. Mr. Sage looked at me. I nodded, and we left the room.

  “She’s not herself,” I said. “That’s why she’s acting this way.”

  Mr. Sage looked through the glass at Joanne, who stared at the ceiling and tried not to cry as the drug took effect. Her eyelids fluttered once, then closed.

  “Of course she’s not herself. She just lost her husband. Because of me.” Mr. Sage’s voice was sad and bitter.

  I put my hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault. Prism was too quick for any of us to stop.”

  The superhero shook his head. “I should have known what she was up to—that she would steal the sapphire in front of all those people. I’m a psychic. I should have known.”

  “I’ve always thought being a psychic is sort of like being lucky—you have good days and you have bad days,” I said in a soft tone.

  A wry smile twisted his face. “Yeah. Unfortunately, people always seem to suffer when I have bad days.”

  I couldn’t argue with him. I knew about bad luck and making people suffer all too well. So I didn’t even try.

  I left Joanne to Mr. Sage and went next door to Debonair’s room. Debonair lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by clean white sheets with a dusty black mask covering the top half of his face. Mr. Sage hadn’t removed it out of professional courtesy. Karma Girl sat in a nearby chair, playing with a Rubik’s Cube and keeping an eye on his vital signs.

  “Any change?” I asked, looking at all the beeping and chirping machines.

  “No. He’s still serious, but stable. He’s going to pull through, Bella. Don’t worry.” Karma Girl’s eyes glowed for half a second. “I just know he is.”

  My heart lifted a bit. Karma Girl was never wrong. At least to my knowledge. If she said Debonair was going to be okay, then I believed her.

  I dragged another chair up to the bed and sat down. Then, I reached over and took Debonair’s hand. It felt warm, almost hot. A fever was sweeping through his body, as it tried to mend all the damage that had been done to it.

  Karma Girl reached up and took off her mask, morphing into Carmen Cole once more.

  “Why don’t you get some rest?” Carmen said in a soft voice. “You’ve had a hell of a night.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine, just a few bumps and bruises.” I sounded like Joanne now. “Besides, I want to be here when he wakes up so he can see I’m okay too.”

  “All right. If you need anything, just use the intercom.”

  I nodded. “Any word on Granny Cane?”

  “Swifte showed up on the scene right after Hangman took off with you. He rushed her to the hospital. Granny Cane had a concussion and a broken wrist, but she’ll be fine. Your grandfather is with her. Once the doctors give her the all-clear sign, he’s going to drive out here.”

  I nodded. “Good.”

  Carmen got to her feet and left the room.

  I turned back to Devlin. My eyes fixed on the cast on his left arm and the white bandages that swathed his chest. He was lucky he’d gotten off with just some broken bones. We’d all been very, very lucky today.

  Everyone except Berkley. Poor Joanne. I knew what she must be going through right now. The pain, the anger, the grief, the rage. I’d experienced it all when my father had died. If Devlin had been killed instead of Berkley, I don’t think I would have been able to live with myself. It made what I had to tell him that much harder.

  Because I’d finally realized we couldn’t be together. Before the second museum benefit, I’d been willing to try, to figure out some way to make things work. But they never would. Today had shown me that, and Berkley’s death had driven it home. I’d just been fooling myself before. Because Devlin was Debonair. A suave, sexy superhero. That leather costume he wore might as well have been a bull’s-eye on his back. He’d always be a target for both the ubervillains and the police. I wasn’t going to let my heart get caught in the cross fire when his luck finally ran out and some
villain killed him. It had come so close to happening today that I still couldn’t quite breathe.

  I grasped Devlin’s hand, leaned back in the chair, and closed my eyes. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I must have, because I awoke to find Devlin staring at me, his blue eyes hazy from the drugs.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice thick.

  “Hey there, yourself. How are you feeling?”

  “Tired. Stiff. Sore.” His eyes slowly wandered around the room. “Where are we?”

  “You’re safe. We’re in the Fearless Five headquarters in one of the sick bays. Mr. Sage checked you out and says you’re going to be fine.”

  I gave Devlin the lowdown on his injuries.

  “And you? How are you?”

  I smiled and squeezed his hand tighter. “I’m fine. Just a few bumps and bruises. I got lucky today. It seems to be something I’m good at.”

  Devlin tried to laugh but stopped because it hurt his ribs. “And Joanne?”

  “She’s fine, physically. Emotionally, she’s a wreck. The Fearless Five are taking her to the hospital to see Berkley’s body.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears from filling my eyes. Berkley had been a good friend and a wonderful man. He hadn’t deserved what Prism had done to him, and Joanne didn’t deserve to be suffering his loss now.

  “Hey, hey. None of that,” Devlin said, squeezing my hand. “The ubervillains are dead, and the city is safe again. And we’ve got the rest of our lives to spend together. That’s the most important thing.”

  I didn’t want to do this. Not today of all days. Not when he was sick and weak and injured. But I had to. Otherwise, I’d just keep putting it off . . . and putting it off . . . and putting it off until it would be too late.

  I drew in a deep breath. “No, we don’t.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” His eyes grew wide and frantic. “Are you hurt? Is something wrong with you?”

  “No, I’m fine. But we can’t be together, Devlin. Not anymore.” My heart cracked a little as I said the words. But I knew they were true, that it was for the best.