Lovesick Titans Page 2

  “Hey!” Lucy called out, jerking back into the hallway before scowling and storming inside past his raised hand still clutching the phone. “You expecting an ambush, slick? It’s just me.”

  Mal tried not to groan as his heart rate stuttered back to normal. His adrenaline had been spiked too high all day, waiting for Ludgate to make some move. Waiting for Danny to answer him with something other than deflection. “Just because you have a key doesn’t mean you can enter without knocking,” he snarled, shutting and locking the door behind her.

  “Shit, Mickey, what the hell?” she said to his beaten face. Standing in his entryway, arms crossed, the truth of her concern was only visible in the twitch of her eye.

  Mal pushed past her and tossed his phone onto the coffee table. “Not in the mood right now, Luce.”

  “Not in the mood? Are you kidding me?” She bounded after him, hovering menacingly when he dropped down onto the sofa feeling every one of his bruises jostle. The cushions still smelled like Danny. “You look like someone’s punching bag. You know, I could have come over the second I woke up this morning, and believe me, I thought about it. Figured if I did though, Zeus might be down to his smallclothes and you’d be pissed at me for seeing just how low he can blush.”

  Mal snorted. His sister was in rare form today. “Lucy…”

  “You’re welcome.”

  With a sigh, Mal closed his eyes. “Thank you. For being patient and waiting to come over.” When he opened his eyes again, she nodded in satisfaction.

  Practiced eyes followed the shades of purple and ugly green across his face as she sat down beside him. “Ludgate did this?”

  “Not…technically.”

  “Meaning?”

  Mal didn’t answer.

  “Zeus?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated?” She flared with rare fury, and Mal instantly regretted his choice of words. “Why? Coz he didn’t mean it? Coz you deserved it? Or just coz you made him mad?”

  The same questions from a dozen—hundreds—of episodes with their father over the years made Mal’s insides twist. “That’s not what this is,” he said and held her gaze until she relaxed, marginally, into the cushion behind her. “You think I’d go for that bullshit?”

  “I’d sure as hell hope not. So,” she said, shifting until they sat side by side and their shoulders brushed, “what did happen?”

  Mal wished he’d had more time to himself to think all this over before confessing the dirty truth to her, but another hour, another day, another week, wouldn’t change any of the facts. So he told her—sans Danny’s real name—all about how they’d gotten involved. About Ludgate. About last night. He didn’t sugarcoat how Danny had meant to inflict some of his current bruises, but when all was said and done, the flash of murderous intent in Lucy’s eyes was quelled.

  There was more to Danny Grant than his mistakes. There had to be if Mal was supposed to believe the same about himself.

  “So Ludgate knows Zeus’s identity,” Lucy said, tapping her fingers over to his knee until he grasped her hand to remind her that she didn’t need to tiptoe around him like the rest of the world. “And I don’t even get to know? That’s low, Mickey. I said if he’s cute and you screw him more than once, I get a name.”

  “You have a name. It’s Zeus.”

  “Real funny.”

  Mal ran his thumb over the top of her hand. “For all I know, Ludgate has all of that footage at the papers already. Maybe he doesn’t. Either way, I’ll have to lay low for a while.”

  “Mickey…”

  “What?”

  Her warm brown eyes made him squeeze her hand tighter. “This isn’t just playing around. Always knew you had it bad for Zeus’s tight little body in that suit, but this…” The faint smirk on her face had an edge of seriousness to it.

  He couldn’t let her say it, couldn’t say it himself yet, but he couldn’t deny it either. So he just said, “I know.” They sat a moment longer before he cleared his throat. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Andre called.”

  “Figured he would. I Facebooked him before. He messaged me last night. We talked. Told me how fucked up scary this whole thing is with Ludgate. Eventually I gave him your number.”

  “That easily, huh?”

  “Trust me,” she said with a flicker of a smile that looked far too much like the little girl’s he’d once known, “it wasn’t easy.”

  “You get any loot out?”

  “Zeus didn’t exactly check my pockets. Dom’s pissed she didn’t get to torch the paintings though.”

  “I’ll make it up to her.” Sighing as he let Lucy’s hand go, Mal leaned forward on his thighs. He couldn’t sulk all day. He had to plan. Had to fix this. “Ludgate has the diamond. That I intend to reclaim. But first I gotta pay a visit to our resident tech genius.” He glanced at his sister, who sat forward to match him. “Care to join me?”

  “Sounds fun. Plus, you need me today.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” She grimaced when she looked him over more closely. “Go alone and you’re likely to scare poor Priestly straight.”

  Mal laughed so hard he hissed at how it stretched his split lip. “Ow,” he said pointedly and glared at her for good measure. “Brat.”

  “Jerk.” Leaning forward, she gently pecked his forehead.

  It soothed Mal like touch from so few people could. In fact, maybe only touch from her…and Danny could. Dom wasn’t exactly a hugger. And Mal didn’t trust many others. Enjoying the way someone’s touch felt against your skin gave them power over you that could so easily be turned into something cruel.

  Grabbing his coat, Mal put on glasses since he’d never bothered with contacts today and slid a ball cap onto his head to better hide his injuries and identity. He brought his amplifier along, just in case Ludgate or anyone else tried to take advantage of his condition, then locked his apartment behind him as they left.

  It felt good to be out, to get coffee and a cruller at the bakery. The sun was shining outside, the wind a light cooling breeze, but even though the neighborhood was safe for the moment, the liveliness of the people hurrying about their day was tinged with fear. The newspaper already had a story about the diamond heist and the brutal death of the guard. Ludgate was mentioned as a suspect, the police still looking for him but unable to connect him to the previous heists. It was on record that he was Light leaning, so the news story speculated he was actually a Light Elemental in hiding with deadly, unknown powers. If left unchecked, he could turn out to be far worse than the Dark reign of Thanatos.

  Sensationalism—just to sell papers. But it worked. There were barely any copies left. Mal purchased one so he could read the full story as he and Lucy continued their walk, heading toward the electronics shop. Three thefts and one death, and already the city was terrified again. Danny carried the scars of what Thanatos had done more than most. Mal still couldn’t believe the boy he’d thought so untouchable and pure had killed and covered it up, living with his guilt for months, guilt Mal could admit he was partially to blame for. Still, the damage stretched throughout the city. Mal’s neighborhood had been left untouched, but from his streets he could see the power station and the empty spaces where buildings Thanatos had shredded with his shadows once stood.

  He was grateful Thanatos had never made it as far as his neighborhood and its lookout over the rest of the city. His streets were meant to be safe and happy and his. God help Ludgate if he ever dared to do anything to the people here, though the bastard better watch out regardless after the damage he’d caused.

  Despite it nearing lunch now and Priestly likely being on break, Mal had an extra coffee and donut for him. The shop was a father and son place; it closed down for lunch every day from noon to one, so when Mal and Lucy realized the time and found the front door locked, they headed in through the back. Lucy might have a key to Mal’s place, but he had a key to almost every business in the neighborhood—by their own offering.

  “Hart!” Mal called as they snuck in through the alley entrance between the main shop and the far back where Priestly stored his secret projects.

  “Shit!” came a muffled reply before Mal and Lucy rounded the corner of a high shelf to find Priestly Hartigan lifted onto one of his worktables with Arden Andrews Junior between his legs. At least no one’s pants were off yet.

  “Oh my,” Lucy said with complete unabashed pleasure at this discovery. “Arty Andrews, you devil.”

  Priestly groaned as he tried to hide the flush of his face behind Arty’s shoulder. The young shop keep’s hands were up Priestly’s sweater, and Arty’s flannel was unbuttoned as he turned his bearded face their direction.

  “Not one word,” Priestly said muted against Arty’s neck.

  “Not even if that word is congrats?” Mal smirked.

  Priestly groaned again.

  Arty, for all his usual pleasant charm, looked none too pleased at the interruption, but he stretched his smile anyway, slid his hands out of Priestly’s shirt, and let them rest possessively at the kid’s hips. “Something we can help you with, Mr. Cho?”

  After sharing a knowing glance with his sister, Mal had to shrug. “Sorry for the cold shower, Arty. Truly. Any other time I’d say we’ll come back later, but we’re in a bit of a crisis.” He took a few steps closer into the light of the room and pulled the hat from his head to better reveal his bruises and cuts. Arty instantly stepped out from between Priestly’s legs with a look of concern.

  Priestly, still blushing colorfully, peeked over as he was left without his buffer an
d gaped when he saw Mal, previous embarrassment and irritation vanishing. “What the hell happened to you? Did something go wrong at the museum? I heard about the police but figured you got away clean.”

  Jumping down from the table, he straightened his shirt, then his glasses, as his countenance shifted to being ‘on the job’. Arty grudgingly buttoned his shirt but held some sympathy for Mal’s face.

  “Not exactly,” Mal said. “Guess you haven’t seen the papers yet. It’s a longer story than I care to get into right now, but there are a couple things you need to be aware of.”

  Since the shop was closed for the next forty-five minutes, Arty stuck around. It was always his prerogative as shop owner to know the ins and outs of what Priestly was working on for Mal’s heists, but usually he preferred plausible deniability. This time he was concerned, though maybe more for Priestly’s involvement than his own. Leaning against the worktable, he listened in as Mal explained some of what had gone down at the museum last night, including the death of the guard after he left.

  “So my goggles are where right now?” Priestly crossed his arms indignantly, having refused the coffee and donut Mal offered.

  “Possibly with Zeus’s team.”

  “And my comms?”

  “Likely with the police.”

  Priestly threw his hands down to his sides and leaned toward Mal threateningly—one of very few people who would dare. “Well let’s hope you’re wrong or all of us are screwed.”

  With a flourish, he stormed across the room toward a computer desk against the far wall. Like the various worktables, the items covering the desk were all perfectly aligned as if they had every right to be sitting there.

  Mal and the others followed. Although Mal couldn’t decipher much of Priestly’s coding as he brought up various surveillance and tracking programs, in the end, a map of Olympus City was displayed showing two distinct blinking lights—both at the downtown OCPD precinct.

  Priestly’s lips pursed as he typed in additional commands. “The goggles appear to be in the basement, probably sitting in evidence. More concerning, however, is that the comms might already be in processing. They’re upstairs in one of the offices.”

  Danny’s office, Mal assumed. It was his case. “Can you tell where it is in the room?”

  “Thinking you can swipe it?”

  “If necessary.”

  “The tracker doesn’t work that specifically. Which room is as close as I can get. But…” Priestly glanced up at Mal over his shoulder and smirked, “I might be able to do us one better.”

  A new image popped up on the screen, blue and distorted like a negative photo. Mal squinted to take it all in. It looked like some sort of cube.

  “Are you 3D projecting its surroundings?” Lucy leaned forward, marveling at the display. Mal shot her an impressed raise of an eyebrow. She shrugged.

  “Sort of like sonar,” Priestly said.

  “Wow, Hart,” Arty looked more closely as well, brushing Priestly’s shoulder with his own. “That is amazing.”

  It wasn’t hard to catch how Priestly fought a genuine smile. “Looks like it’s in a desk drawer. Which is not protocol at all. Unless the detective thinks he’s dealing with a volatile substance. This is the old Elemental Task Force office used by Danny Grant. Maybe the comms got contaminated by something?”

  Nothing like that had happened and evidence didn’t go slipping into someone’s desk drawer by chance. Danny had put them there on purpose rather than work them into circulation. He was protecting Mal.

  “We’re fine,” Mal said, fighting a smile just as Priestly had. “I think that item is about to be misplaced. Goggles too.”

  “What? Why?” Lucy narrowed her eyes at him.

  “You have an in with Grant? Wait…” Priestly swiveled his chair to stare up at Mal with newfound awe. “Cho. You really do got a pair on you, don’t you?”

  Lucy and Arty exchanged equally perplexed glances, but Lucy was smart enough to understand that if Mal had an ‘in’ at the OCPD, it likely had something to do with who he was sleeping with. Priestly assumed the same, but since Lucy knew he was sleeping with Zeus…

  “Oh my god,” she balked as the pieces fell into place. “His real identity is a detective?”

  “Real identity? What are you…?” Priestly trailed as a slow grin spread across his face.

  Mal wished he could blame this mishap on the concussion, but it was just plain carelessness on his part that in one fell swoop two more people knew the full extent of his secret—and Danny’s.

  “Hang on…” Lucy grinned, leaning on Priestly’s shoulder. “Can you pull up a picture?”

  “No,” Mal said in warning.

  “Aww, come on, Mickey, be a good sport.”

  With his most threatening glare, Mal pinned the pair in place until Priestly lost his smile and Lucy rolled her eyes. “This information never leaves this room. Understood?” They both nodded, Priestly more immediately than Lucy. Then Mal shifted his glare onto Arty, who held up his hands.

  “I am thoroughly confused about what we’re even talking about.”

  “Good.”

  “At least I got my name,” Lucy said, causing Mal to feel utterly defeated. He didn’t know how he was going to explain this to Danny. If he did. Maybe he wouldn’t. Priestly and Lucy wouldn’t use this information against either of them—other than to torture Mal at every opportune moment.

  Thankfully, Lucy was diverted from her mission to pry into every aspect of Mal’s love life by prying a little into Priestly’s—which at the moment was more immediately accessible. She draped an arm over Arty’s shoulder with her most flirtatious lilt and bat of her eyes to inquire how these two kids had gotten together.

  Once it was obvious Lucy wasn’t about to let Arty go, Priestly pulled Mal aside.

  “How serious is this thing with you and your electric nemesis?” He sipped on the coffee he’d finally accepted and took a bite of his donut.

  “Just give me an extra set of comms in the meantime,” Mal said. “I’m sure both items will be returned in due course.”

  “No trouble for the good detective to slip you something on the side?”

  “Hart… Don’t be cute.”

  “Please. Like I have to try.”

  And damn if Mal couldn’t help smiling again. The day was a mess. His whole life was a mess. But some things weren’t as disastrous as he’d expected. He knew what he wanted. Maybe Danny did too, if the hidden comms were any indication. For now, Mal just had to give him time.

  Chapter 2

  There were several CSI who worked with Andre as part of the Crime Scene Unit. The Deputy Inspector who ran the team tended to use a lighter touch, which was how Andre got away with spending so many hours in the morgue instead of in the CSU lab. He got his work done, which was all anyone cared about. He was also everyone’s favorite CSI, among his coworkers and the other officers and detectives, because of his jovial personality.

  “Hey, Ryan, go long!” Andre’s voice filtered out of the lab the moment Danny opened the door to enter. He caught his friend making a football throwing motion with a plastic bag containing a larger piece of glass from the museum heist.

  The other CSI didn’t even look up from his microscope. “If you cut yourself, Vaughn,” he deadpanned, “I’m saving all the decontamination work for when you get back from the ER.”

  Andre chuckled. “Hey, Danny,” he said as he set the bag of evidence aside. “Got the results on that fiber for you.”

  It was nearly the end of the day and they weren’t short on cases in Olympus City, but Andre was one of the best at what he did and the heat was on now that Ludgate had upped his game to murder. Outsiders might have thought it was cold that Andre could joke with evidence from a case like that, but Danny understood. They dealt with the worst of the worst every day. If they didn’t make light sometimes, they’d go crazy. Danny had been going crazy. Andre was better at compartmentalizing, just like Lynn.

  The lab was quiet aside from Andre and Ryan, which made it easier to have this discussion upstairs for once instead of down in the morgue. Besides, half of Danny’s work was still done as a normal detective.

  The room was large enough for four main desks and a few additional lab stations. Danny had always thought the desks looked more like art tables since they sat up so high. “So,” he said, leaning against Andre’s desk when he reached him, “what do we know?”