APHRODITE'SSECRET-JULIEKENNER
Chapter Thirteen
“
There,” Hieronymous said, pointing at the center monitor. “The fools. They took the boy to the most obvious place.”
Mordi squinted at the screen, trying to make out the fuzzy images: a marina, a houseboat, and—moving about just past the glass door—a little boy.
Davy.
“It’s probably safer than any other place they could take him,” Mordi said. “His father’s surely got the thing rigged up with tons of security devices.”
From the corner, Clyde snorted. “Your father can penetrate any security device.”
Hieronymous ignored his Chief of Guards, instead staring down his son. Mordi swallowed, wondering what the hell he’d done wrong this time.
“Safer?” Hieronymous asked. “Is that a question in your voice? A passive-aggressive suggestion that you do not approve of my methods?”
Mordi licked his lips. The last time he blinked, he’d been in his father’s good graces. Now, apparently, he was scum. So, what else was new? “No, sir. I’m only saying that Jason intends to protect his boy.”
Hieronymous didn’t answer, just tapped his fingers on his desktop.
Clyde stepped forward, his shoulders pulled back and his chest sticking out. “Shall I go retrieve the boy, sir?” He looked down his nose at Mordi. “Or are you still sending
him?”
His father regarded Mordi, then shook his head ever so slightly. “No. It is already Wednesday. Success is crucial.” He met Clyde’s eyes. “We shall send one of my little pets.”
Mordi cringed, wondering if Hieronymous would have found Jason lacking. He told himself it didn’t matter; Jason had turned his back on his father, and Mordi was still right here. One simple twist of fate, and despite his perceived failings, Mordi had become the favored child. The son who stood by his father. The loyal son. The true heir.
It was a new perspective on the world, and it was one Mordi wasn’t certain he wanted to give up.
He had to decide soon, though. The plots and schemes and plans of attack were all centered on him. His father was pulling one way, the Council the other.
Here he was; caught in the middle, just one more pawn in someone else’s game.
* * *
“I used the circuit board from my Game Boy, and then I used some parts from the clock radio, and then I just put it all together.” Davy shrugged. “It was easy.”
Jason settled down on the ground in front of his son, looking at the automatic coffee timer the boy had created and been in the process of installing when he had stepped into the kitchen.
He’d about had a heart attack when he saw the kid balancing precariously on a stack of pillows atop a three-legged stool. And then he’d come near to suffering an aneurysm when he realized Davy had taken apart the machine’s wiring and was splicing some sort of gizmo into its center.
“Mommy likes coffee right when she wakes up,” the boy had said.
“Uh-huh,” Jason responded. He’d grabbed Davy around the waist and, over his howls of protest, schlepped the kid to the patio that opened off the dining area. One nice thing about his boat: it had lots of patios.
Now he was outside, with his almost-seven-year-old, and had absolutely no idea what to talk about. Part of him wanted to go back indoors and start breakfast, but Lane and the rest of the gang were still sleeping, scattered across the boat in all its nooks and crannies. If he and Davy went in, they’d surely wake someone. Besides, his son looked perfectly content. It was Jason who hadn’t a clue what to say.
“So . . . uh, what else have you invented?” The question wasn’t exactly worthy of Dr. Spock, but Jason gave himself a pat on the back nonetheless.
Davy pursed his lips, his small brow furrowing in concentration. “Lots of stuff,” he said.
“Like what?”
“Um, I made X-ray glasses.”
Jason cocked a brow, not sure he believed that. “No way,” he finally said.
“Did, too.” Davy reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses. “I don’t think Mommy was happy when she saw the broken part.”
“Your mom was just happy you were safe,” Jason assured him.
“So, it’s okay that I broke the glasses?”
Jason sighed. So much for his try at daddy-hood; he had no idea what to say. “You can talk about that with your mother.”
Davy rolled his eyes. “Well, duh.”
Jason sat forward, trying to regroup. “So, they’re really X-ray?”
“Uh-huh. I wanted to be like Aunt Zoë.” He pressed them into his father’s hand. “Want to try?”
With metal Harry Potter-style frames, the spectacles looked like ones any second grader might wear. There was a slight sheen on the lenses, but for all Jason knew, that was UV protection.
They didn’t fit, of course. Still, with the missing earpiece, the glasses actually balanced pretty well on his nose. At first he didn’t see any difference. However, as his eyes focused through the convex glass, molecules started to buzz and shift until the walls, furniture, and everything else solid turned transparent.
Jason half-smiled. Pretty damn cool.
He tilted his head back, his line of sight an angle into the bedroom above their heads. Sure enough, the floor disappeared. Then the bed faded, until all he saw was the woman asleep atop it. The mattress started to haze out, then the oversized T-shirt Lane wore as a nightgown. .. .
She stretched, rolling over in her sleep, facing down on the bed—right toward Jason.
He swallowed, the view enticing. His palms started to sweat and his stomach twisted into knots. Looking away, Jason took off the glasses and gave them back to Davy before he totally abandoned his pride and took another peek.
He’d see her naked again. That much he was sure of. But when he did, she was going to know it. If he had his way, she’d even beg for it.
“Mr. Jason?”
At the sound of Davy’s voice, Jason wiped the smile off his face. “Sorry.”
“Did they work for you, too?”
Oh, yeah.
Jason cocked his head, something Lane had said gnawing at his memory. “Your mom thought all your inventions were make-believe,” he said. “How come you never showed her?”
“Dunno,” Davy answered, eyeing the floor and suddenly acting shy. “I told her about everything, but Mommy’s always busy. She’s got school so she can get a good job and move us to a better apartment and buy a car that smells new and doesn’t have duck tape on the seats.”
Jason grinned. “Right.” For years, Lane had been working her tail off trying to make a home for their son. Jason had only managed to entertain the child for twenty minutes. One tick in the Jason column; eight billion ticks for Lane.
He scowled, another thought occurring to him. “Did you tell Mr. Aaron?”
Davy shook his head, his eyes wide.
“Why not?” Jason asked, more thrilled than he cared to admit.
“I dunno. Elmer said most mortal boys can’t make things like animal translators. I figured he’d think I was weird.”
“You told me,” Jason said.
“You already knew,” Davy explained reasonably. “Besides, you’re weird, too.”
True enough.
“Can you invent stuff, too?” Davy asked.
Jason shook his head. “I can barely work my coffeemaker, much less make one from scratch.”
“Oh.” Davy looked slightly disappointed, and Jason wondered if he was already losing points on the daddy-front. Then the boy said, “I can’t see through walls like Aunt Zoë can. Not without my glasses.”
Jason nodded, slowly realizing what was going on in his son’s little head. “We all have different powers,” he said. He tapped Davy on the noggin. “Most of yours are up here.”
“That’s boring,” Davy complained. “I want to be able to shoot fire like Mr. Mordi.”
Jason grimaced. “Let’s go easy on the emulating Mr. Mordi thing, okay?”
“I didn’t used to be able to make things. And then it got easier.”
Jason blinked, not really sure about his son’s segue, but willing to follow the boy’s lead. “That’s because you’re getting older. When you turn seven, you’ll be even better.”
“Will I be able to whack someone?” Davy asked. He got up and karate-chopped the railing. “Aunt Zoë‘s good at whacking.”
“You sure will,” Jason said. “Most Protectors are super strong. Halflings, too. And you’ll likely be able to levitate stuff.”
“Really?” Davy put his glasses carefully on the ground, then stared at them, his brow furrowed, his eyes squinting, and his lips pooched out. He made a little snorting noise.
“Uh, Davy?”
“I’m trying to levitate them. But nothing’s happening.”
Jason laughed. “We’ll work on that. You’ll be surprised. Friday you’ll start getting your powers more and more. And your mom and I talked about it— I’m going to hang around. Teach you how to use those powers.” He cocked his head, trying to read Davy’s face for a reaction.
“Can I have an Eggo?”
Jason sighed. So much for a burst of excitement from the boy that he would be a permanent fixture.
“Please?” Davy begged.
Jason looked through the door. Zoë was still asleep on the sofa, and Taylor was sacked out on the floor just below her. “Everyone’s still asleep,” he said.
“And the sun’s barely even up. Can’t you wait just a little while longer?”
Davy shrugged. “I guess.. .. Can you whack?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jason said. “I’m great at whacking.”
The boy was silent for a moment.
“You weren’t really in space, were you?”
Jason took a deep breath, not sure what to say. In the end, he decided on the truth. “Nope.”
“Oh.” Davy filled his cheeks with air and then popped them. “What can you do? What are your powers?”
“Other than whacking?” Jason asked, relieved when the boy laughed. “I mostly hang out in the water.”
“Really? Why?”
“Remember the dolphin at Sea World?”
Davy nodded.
“That was me.”
Davy’s eyes widened. “Cool.”
Jason’s chest swelled a little. His son thought he was cool.
“What else can you do?”
Jason tapped his jaw, thinking. “Well, I had a conversation with Dorothy, and I can hold my breath underwater for a really, really long time.” Actually, he didn’t hold his breath at all, but explaining the transfer of oxygen from the water through his skin to his bloodstream seemed a little much for a six-year-old. Then again, this was Davy.
“Is Dorothy nice?”
“The best,” Jason said.
The boy hugged his knees to his chest. “I’m glad she’s here,” he said. “And Elmer, too. I can talk to Elmer, but I haven’t made a translator yet for Dorothy.” He shrugged. “I’m gonna, though.” He played with the Velcro strap on his sandal for a while before looking back up at his father. “Why does Hieronymous want me?”
Jason sighed, then glanced up at the bedroom above. Too bad he didn’t have the glasses anymore. He’d like to know if Lane was awake. This was one of those parenting moments he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for.
Unfortunately for him, no one seemed to be stirring in the house.
“Mr. Jason?” Davy prompted. “How come?”
“He wants what’s in here,” Jason explained, tapping Davy’s head with the tip of his finger. “He wants your smarts.”
“Can he get them?” Davy asked, real awe in his voice.
“I guess so,” Jason admitted. “Do you think you could? Invent something like that, I mean.”
“A smarts-stealer?” Davy’s face puckered up in concentration. “Yeah. Maybe. I guess so.” He shook his head. “But I wouldn’t. That’s a bad thing.”
“Yup.”
“So, are we going to live here with you forever?”
Jason’s breath hitched. He certainly hoped so. But not for the reason Davy meant. “Just until Friday,” he said. “After your birthday, you can go back home.”
“That’s good,” Davy said. “I like my stuff.” He got up and walked to the edge of the patio, looking down at the water lapping against the side of the boat. “But I like the ocean, too.”
Jason moved to stand behind him, thrilled to find a bit of common ground other than Lane. “Why don’t we take a quick swim?”
Davy shook his head, stepping back from the rail. “I don’t know how.”
That surprised Jason even more than the X-ray glasses.
His son, unable to swim? “Haven’t you ever had lessons?”
Davy shook his head. “Mommy wants me to, but she can’t afford them. And she doesn’t swim very good, so she didn’t want to teach me. Uncle Taylor said he’d teach me this summer.”
Jason clenched his fists. If he’d been there, Davy would be swimming like a fish. A knot of anger rose in Jason’s gut.
Damn Hieronymous.
He took a deep breath, determined to enjoy this moment with his child. “Why don’t I teach you now?” he asked.
Davy licked his lips but didn’t jump at the offer.
“Or, better yet, why don’t we just play a little?”
At that, Davy’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Sure.” His houseboat was moored at the end of the dock, which meant there was a small, enclosed swimming area that Jason often hung out in. When he was feeling adventurous, he’d dive down and swim under the boat docked next to him—a huge yacht owned by some celebrity who used it about once a year. Now, with Davy, he’d just do a couple of quick circles around the enclosure—just to whet the kid’s appetite.
He stood up, eager to have some activity with his son that belonged solely to them. “What do you say? Shall we give it a shot?”
Davy’s head bobbed, stopping abruptly to scowl up at Jason. “But I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Right. Hmmm.” He peered at the boy. “What are you wearing under those shorts?”
“Underwear.”
“That’ll work,” Jason said.
“Wear my underwear?” Davy’s voice rose a few octaves.
“Sure. Why not? I’ll wear mine, too.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” Jason said. And to prove the point, he stripped off his T-shirt and shorts and stood there in his navy blue Hanes briefs. A little father-son bonding in the morning.
Davy giggled, then did the same. Soon he was standing in nothing but a pair of Scooby-Doo skivvies.
“This is gonna be cool,” he said. And then he marched over, held out his hand, and waited for Jason to take it.
A lump rose in Jason’s throat and he sighed. Baby steps, maybe. But they were stepping in the right direction.
“I’m sorry about the weird arrangements,” Lane said as Zoë led Aaron onto Jason’s balcony. It truly was awkward, but when he’d called on her cell phone, she’d had to explain where she was staving. “But I really want to stick close to Davy.”
“Where is he?” Aaron asked.
“With Jason,” Zoë answered. “When I woke up, they were having an earnest conversation on the back patio.”
Lane nodded, pleased that father and son were getting along. For a second she considered having Davy join her and Aaron, but then she decided against it. He’d had precious little time to simply hang out with Jason one-on-one; she didn’t want to interrupt them now when they were having a good time.
“I think they’re playing in the water now,” Zoë added.
“The water?”
“Yup,” Zoë said. She pointed over the balcony. “See?”
Sure enough, Davy was hanging on to Jason’s back as his father splashed and spun in the water. The little boy kicked and squealed and seemed to be having a great time. Goodness knew he deserved a great time after all he’d been through recently, but...
Lane nibbled on her lower lip. “Do you think it’s safe?”
Zoë raised an eyebrow. “What, the water? He’s with
Jason.”
Good point. If anyone could keep Davy safe in the water, it was Jason.
Zoë licked her lips, bit her tongue.
“What?” Lane asked, immediately concerned.
“Nothing,” Zoë said in a rush. “Really. I was just thinking about, uh ... stuff. There’s something I’ve been trying to tell Taylor and we keep getting interrupted.” She glanced at her watch. “I think I’ll go see if he’s up yet.” And she did.
After Zoë was gone, Aaron moved up beside Lane and put a hand on her shoulder. “So, what’s going on?” he asked. “Can I help?”
Lane shook her head. “It’s nothing. Really.”
“If it’s nothing, then why are you and your entire family staying on this fellow’s boat? And if it’s nothing, why aren’t you in school? What happened to the hundreds of pages you had to read? The Law Review article to write? Finals to study for?”
“You have a trial,” she said, dodging his question. “And here you are.”
He stroked her cheek. “I’m taking a break to see you.”
She rolled her shoulder. “Maybe I’m taking a break, too.”
“Lane ...” He trailed off, a hint of reproach in his voice.
“It, uh, wasn’t really a birthday party,” she said. She picked up a muffin and started peeling away its paper.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “What wasn’t?” he asked.
“Why we made you leave yesterday,” she explained. “What Deena said. It wasn’t really a family thing.”
“Okay,” Aaron said, slowly and patiently. “Then, what is going on?”
“Well,” Lane said, “it was a family thing, just not
that kind of family thing.” She edged to the balcony, peering down at Davy and Jason. Her son leaned his head back and waved at her. “Look at me, Mommy! I’m swimming!”
Jason caught the boy under the tummy and swooshed him around in the water, while Davy kicked and splashed and laughed.
“He’s okay?” she called down.
Jason laughed. “He’s doing great. Aren’t you, sport?”
In response, Davy bobbed his head underwater, then came up shaking it, sending water flying like a big, wet dog. Lane laughed, too. “Okay, but—”
“But what? He’s fine.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then decided against it and just nodded.
“Lane!” Aaron’s stern voice drew her back. “What’s going on?”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. Well, it’s a whole big child-custody thing,” she said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Jason’s father wants custody of Davy.” She took another quick glance at Davy before shifting back to Aaron. “Grandpa is a little nuts.”
“Well, then I
can help,” Aaron said. “The firm has a brilliant family law section. Let me hook you up with someone.” He moved to the railing and glanced over. “Hey, kiddo,” he called. “You look pretty wet.”
“Hey, Aaron!” Davy squealed, laughing and splashing some more.
“Hey, yourself,” Aaron responded. He squeezed Lane’s hand. “So, what do you say? Want me to make some calls?”
“Look at me!” Davy’s voice drifted up to the balcony. “I’m a dolphin!”
Somehow, Jason had gotten hold of a ball, and now he held it just above Davy’s head. The boy bopped it with his nose, then splashed back under the water.
“You look great, sweetie,” Lane called.
The surface of the water became choppy, and Lane looked back, expecting to see the boat’s flag flapping in a kicked-up breeze. Instead, it hung limp.
Odd.
“What’s that?” Aaron asked, pointing down.
“I don’t see anyth—” And then she did. It was just a quick flash of something white and fleshy under the surface of the water. “Jason!” she yelled. “Look out!”
But it was too late. A giant. . . something . . . burst from the water, one huge tentacle slapping down, taking Davy and Jason under the water with it.
Lane screamed, the world turning black and white like a negative as she clutched the railing and tried to keep from fainting.
Aaron swore, his voice cutting through the fear clouding Lane’s mind. Then, “Davy!” he called. In one fluid movement, the lawyer was up on the railing, his shoes left behind on the balcony.
Lane reached for him, but her fingers only brushed the cloth of his khakis. He was gone. Over the edge and into the ocean. One more person she cared for diving right into Hieronymous’s clutches.
The Henchman’s tentacle smashed over Jason, coming from behind and sucking him and Davy beneath the murky waves. Davy yelped as they went down, then immediately tried to claw his way back to the surface.
But, right at that moment, the surface wasn’t the safe place to be. The Henchman—a slimy squidlike creature that lumbered on land but moved with the grace of a jellyfish in the sea—was likely still up there, floundering about, trying to figure out where the man and his boy had disappeared to.
With a tug on his ankles, Jason pulled his son back down. Davy struggled, but Jason kicked them under the houseboat, then gripped Davy’s shoulders and looked in his son’s eyes. The contact seemed to calm the boy, and Jason’s heart beat a little slower.
He was already kicking himself for not expecting the attack. Now all he wanted to do was get Davy back to the safety of his boat’s deck—then he’d beat the crap out of one particular Henchman.
First things first. With an eye on the surface to make sure they weren’t about to be attacked again, Jason brushed his hand through the water, clearing a space about the size of a basketball—just enough to make an air helmet for a small boy who couldn’t hold his breath long enough to suit Jason’s purposes.
Davy’s eyes widened as they watched the bubble form, then managed to get even bigger as Jason pushed the bubble through the water until it was right next to Davy’s head.
Go ahead, Jason said, mouthing the words clearly and distinctly.
His brilliant son knew exactly what he meant—and in one quick move, Davy popped his head into the bubble and took a long, deep breath.
“Wow,” he said, his voice echoing. “Just like an astronaut.”
Jason smiled. More points in his column.
Above, the tentacled creature flailed on the surface, its splashing drawing Jason’s attention. At first, Jason thought the dumb creature was simply waiting for him and Davy. But then he saw a flash of brown material, and his stomach lurched.
Lane’s voice vibrated through the water at the same instant Jason realized—“Aaron!”
Damn. He cursed the mortal, and then immediately took it back. As much as it pained him to admit it, the lawyer had been looking out for Davy. Now Jason had to look out for him.
One silvery tentacle grasped the mortal around the neck, pulling him under the water. Aaron struggled, but the Henchman’s grip was too much.
Swearing, Jason pressed his hand against Davy’s shoulder, then took the boy’s hand and closed it tight around a barnacled wooden mooring.
Stay here, he mouthed.
Davy had barely nodded his agreement when Jason was up, nearing the surface. Another tentacle reached out for him, but Jason evaded, diving deeper, then flipping around. He kicked the Henchman in the gut—or what he assumed was the gut— and then grasped the tentacle holding Aaron.
The lawyer, thank Zeus, cooperated, twisting sideways as Jason tugged, until he was completely free of the vile Henchman. The mortal clamored to the surface, gulped air, and then dove back down toward Davy. Jason tensed, wondering how the man would react to seeing the boy’s bubble helmet. But he didn’t have long to worry, because the Henchman attacked again, this time managing to catch Jason between two of its wildly flailing tentacles.
Jason struggled, but the suction cups that lined the tentacles held fast to him. Below, he could see Aaron leading a helmetless Davy toward the surface—and looking back at Jason with fear and determination.
Damn. He needed to get free before the idiot decided to save him and managed to get caught all over again.
His son kicked, and in the split second in which Aaron returned his attention to the boy, Jason changed. Suddenly he was a dolphin, and the tentacles’ suckers no longer adhered to his slick skin. He slid free, then flipped and aimed back toward the Henchman, ramming it in the center with his snout.
Tentacles flailed, but Jason rammed again. And again. And then once more for good measure. The creature emitted a low howl—part pain, part frustration. One more time it lashed out, but Jason evaded, dodging the path of its tentacle and then smashing it one more time in the midsection.
The ploy worked. The creature gave up, just as Jason had hoped. As a rule, Henchmen weren’t very bright, and they tended to be easily discouraged. This one flipped over, diving deep and then, with tentacles streaming behind it, headed away toward the open sea.
Jason watched it go, itching to follow. One quick glance over his shoulder and up confirmed that Davy was safe. Aaron was lifting the boy out of the water and into Lane’s arms, with Boreas and Zoë standing right nearby to wrap him in a towel.
There wasn’t a decision to make. He turned and sped toward the deep black of the ocean. He’d catch the Henchman and destroy it. In doing so, he’d send Hieronymous one damn clear message: Mess with Jason or his family, you’ll live to regret it.
APHRODITE'SSECRET-JULIEKENNER
Chapter Thirteen
“
There,” Hieronymous said, pointing at the center monitor. “The fools. They took the boy to the most obvious place.”
Mordi squinted at the screen, trying to make out the fuzzy images: a marina, a houseboat, and—moving about just past the glass door—a little boy.
Davy.
“It’s probably safer than any other place they could take him,” Mordi said. “His father’s surely got the thing rigged up with tons of security devices.”
From the corner, Clyde snorted. “Your father can penetrate any security device.”
Hieronymous ignored his Chief of Guards, instead staring down his son. Mordi swallowed, wondering what the hell he’d done wrong this time.
“Safer?” Hieronymous asked. “Is that a question in your voice? A passive-aggressive suggestion that you do not approve of my methods?”
Mordi licked his lips. The last time he blinked, he’d been in his father’s good graces. Now, apparently, he was scum. So, what else was new? “No, sir. I’m only saying that Jason intends to protect his boy.”
Hieronymous didn’t answer, just tapped his fingers on his desktop.
Clyde stepped forward, his shoulders pulled back and his chest sticking out. “Shall I go retrieve the boy, sir?” He looked down his nose at Mordi. “Or are you still sending
him?”
His father regarded Mordi, then shook his head ever so slightly. “No. It is already Wednesday. Success is crucial.” He met Clyde’s eyes. “We shall send one of my little pets.”
Mordi cringed, wondering if Hieronymous would have found Jason lacking. He told himself it didn’t matter; Jason had turned his back on his father, and Mordi was still right here. One simple twist of fate, and despite his perceived failings, Mordi had become the favored child. The son who stood by his father. The loyal son. The true heir.
It was a new perspective on the world, and it was one Mordi wasn’t certain he wanted to give up.
He had to decide soon, though. The plots and schemes and plans of attack were all centered on him. His father was pulling one way, the Council the other.
Here he was; caught in the middle, just one more pawn in someone else’s game.
* * *
“I used the circuit board from my Game Boy, and then I used some parts from the clock radio, and then I just put it all together.” Davy shrugged. “It was easy.”
Jason settled down on the ground in front of his son, looking at the automatic coffee timer the boy had created and been in the process of installing when he had stepped into the kitchen.
He’d about had a heart attack when he saw the kid balancing precariously on a stack of pillows atop a three-legged stool. And then he’d come near to suffering an aneurysm when he realized Davy had taken apart the machine’s wiring and was splicing some sort of gizmo into its center.
“Mommy likes coffee right when she wakes up,” the boy had said.
“Uh-huh,” Jason responded. He’d grabbed Davy around the waist and, over his howls of protest, schlepped the kid to the patio that opened off the dining area. One nice thing about his boat: it had lots of patios.
Now he was outside, with his almost-seven-year-old, and had absolutely no idea what to talk about. Part of him wanted to go back indoors and start breakfast, but Lane and the rest of the gang were still sleeping, scattered across the boat in all its nooks and crannies. If he and Davy went in, they’d surely wake someone. Besides, his son looked perfectly content. It was Jason who hadn’t a clue what to say.
“So . . . uh, what else have you invented?” The question wasn’t exactly worthy of Dr. Spock, but Jason gave himself a pat on the back nonetheless.
Davy pursed his lips, his small brow furrowing in concentration. “Lots of stuff,” he said.
“Like what?”
“Um, I made X-ray glasses.”
Jason cocked a brow, not sure he believed that. “No way,” he finally said.
“Did, too.” Davy reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses. “I don’t think Mommy was happy when she saw the broken part.”
“Your mom was just happy you were safe,” Jason assured him.
“So, it’s okay that I broke the glasses?”
Jason sighed. So much for his try at daddy-hood; he had no idea what to say. “You can talk about that with your mother.”
Davy rolled his eyes. “Well, duh.”
Jason sat forward, trying to regroup. “So, they’re really X-ray?”
“Uh-huh. I wanted to be like Aunt Zoë.” He pressed them into his father’s hand. “Want to try?”
With metal Harry Potter-style frames, the spectacles looked like ones any second grader might wear. There was a slight sheen on the lenses, but for all Jason knew, that was UV protection.
They didn’t fit, of course. Still, with the missing earpiece, the glasses actually balanced pretty well on his nose. At first he didn’t see any difference. However, as his eyes focused through the convex glass, molecules started to buzz and shift until the walls, furniture, and everything else solid turned transparent.
Jason half-smiled. Pretty damn cool.
He tilted his head back, his line of sight an angle into the bedroom above their heads. Sure enough, the floor disappeared. Then the bed faded, until all he saw was the woman asleep atop it. The mattress started to haze out, then the oversized T-shirt Lane wore as a nightgown. .. .
She stretched, rolling over in her sleep, facing down on the bed—right toward Jason.
He swallowed, the view enticing. His palms started to sweat and his stomach twisted into knots. Looking away, Jason took off the glasses and gave them back to Davy before he totally abandoned his pride and took another peek.
He’d see her naked again. That much he was sure of. But when he did, she was going to know it. If he had his way, she’d even beg for it.
“Mr. Jason?”
At the sound of Davy’s voice, Jason wiped the smile off his face. “Sorry.”
“Did they work for you, too?”
Oh, yeah.
Jason cocked his head, something Lane had said gnawing at his memory. “Your mom thought all your inventions were make-believe,” he said. “How come you never showed her?”
“Dunno,” Davy answered, eyeing the floor and suddenly acting shy. “I told her about everything, but Mommy’s always busy. She’s got school so she can get a good job and move us to a better apartment and buy a car that smells new and doesn’t have duck tape on the seats.”
Jason grinned. “Right.” For years, Lane had been working her tail off trying to make a home for their son. Jason had only managed to entertain the child for twenty minutes. One tick in the Jason column; eight billion ticks for Lane.
He scowled, another thought occurring to him. “Did you tell Mr. Aaron?”
Davy shook his head, his eyes wide.
“Why not?” Jason asked, more thrilled than he cared to admit.
“I dunno. Elmer said most mortal boys can’t make things like animal translators. I figured he’d think I was weird.”
“You told me,” Jason said.
“You already knew,” Davy explained reasonably. “Besides, you’re weird, too.”
True enough.
“Can you invent stuff, too?” Davy asked.
Jason shook his head. “I can barely work my coffeemaker, much less make one from scratch.”
“Oh.” Davy looked slightly disappointed, and Jason wondered if he was already losing points on the daddy-front. Then the boy said, “I can’t see through walls like Aunt Zoë can. Not without my glasses.”
Jason nodded, slowly realizing what was going on in his son’s little head. “We all have different powers,” he said. He tapped Davy on the noggin. “Most of yours are up here.”
“That’s boring,” Davy complained. “I want to be able to shoot fire like Mr. Mordi.”
Jason grimaced. “Let’s go easy on the emulating Mr. Mordi thing, okay?”
“I didn’t used to be able to make things. And then it got easier.”
Jason blinked, not really sure about his son’s segue, but willing to follow the boy’s lead. “That’s because you’re getting older. When you turn seven, you’ll be even better.”
“Will I be able to whack someone?” Davy asked. He got up and karate-chopped the railing. “Aunt Zoë‘s good at whacking.”
“You sure will,” Jason said. “Most Protectors are super strong. Halflings, too. And you’ll likely be able to levitate stuff.”
“Really?” Davy put his glasses carefully on the ground, then stared at them, his brow furrowed, his eyes squinting, and his lips pooched out. He made a little snorting noise.
“Uh, Davy?”
“I’m trying to levitate them. But nothing’s happening.”
Jason laughed. “We’ll work on that. You’ll be surprised. Friday you’ll start getting your powers more and more. And your mom and I talked about it— I’m going to hang around. Teach you how to use those powers.” He cocked his head, trying to read Davy’s face for a reaction.
“Can I have an Eggo?”
Jason sighed. So much for a burst of excitement from the boy that he would be a permanent fixture.
“Please?” Davy begged.
Jason looked through the door. Zoë was still asleep on the sofa, and Taylor was sacked out on the floor just below her. “Everyone’s still asleep,” he said.
“And the sun’s barely even up. Can’t you wait just a little while longer?”
Davy shrugged. “I guess.. .. Can you whack?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jason said. “I’m great at whacking.”
The boy was silent for a moment.
“You weren’t really in space, were you?”
Jason took a deep breath, not sure what to say. In the end, he decided on the truth. “Nope.”
“Oh.” Davy filled his cheeks with air and then popped them. “What can you do? What are your powers?”
“Other than whacking?” Jason asked, relieved when the boy laughed. “I mostly hang out in the water.”
“Really? Why?”
“Remember the dolphin at Sea World?”
Davy nodded.
“That was me.”
Davy’s eyes widened. “Cool.”
Jason’s chest swelled a little. His son thought he was cool.
“What else can you do?”
Jason tapped his jaw, thinking. “Well, I had a conversation with Dorothy, and I can hold my breath underwater for a really, really long time.” Actually, he didn’t hold his breath at all, but explaining the transfer of oxygen from the water through his skin to his bloodstream seemed a little much for a six-year-old. Then again, this was Davy.
“Is Dorothy nice?”
“The best,” Jason said.
The boy hugged his knees to his chest. “I’m glad she’s here,” he said. “And Elmer, too. I can talk to Elmer, but I haven’t made a translator yet for Dorothy.” He shrugged. “I’m gonna, though.” He played with the Velcro strap on his sandal for a while before looking back up at his father. “Why does Hieronymous want me?”
Jason sighed, then glanced up at the bedroom above. Too bad he didn’t have the glasses anymore. He’d like to know if Lane was awake. This was one of those parenting moments he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for.
Unfortunately for him, no one seemed to be stirring in the house.
“Mr. Jason?” Davy prompted. “How come?”
“He wants what’s in here,” Jason explained, tapping Davy’s head with the tip of his finger. “He wants your smarts.”
“Can he get them?” Davy asked, real awe in his voice.
“I guess so,” Jason admitted. “Do you think you could? Invent something like that, I mean.”
“A smarts-stealer?” Davy’s face puckered up in concentration. “Yeah. Maybe. I guess so.” He shook his head. “But I wouldn’t. That’s a bad thing.”
“Yup.”
“So, are we going to live here with you forever?”
Jason’s breath hitched. He certainly hoped so. But not for the reason Davy meant. “Just until Friday,” he said. “After your birthday, you can go back home.”
“That’s good,” Davy said. “I like my stuff.” He got up and walked to the edge of the patio, looking down at the water lapping against the side of the boat. “But I like the ocean, too.”
Jason moved to stand behind him, thrilled to find a bit of common ground other than Lane. “Why don’t we take a quick swim?”
Davy shook his head, stepping back from the rail. “I don’t know how.”
That surprised Jason even more than the X-ray glasses. His son, unable to swim? “Haven’t you ever had lessons?”
Davy shook his head. “Mommy wants me to, but she can’t afford them. And she doesn’t swim very good, so she didn’t want to teach me. Uncle Taylor said he’d teach me this summer.”
Jason clenched his fists. If he’d been there, Davy would be swimming like a fish. A knot of anger rose in Jason’s gut. Damn Hieronymous.
He took a deep breath, determined to enjoy this moment with his child. “Why don’t I teach you now?” he asked.
Davy licked his lips but didn’t jump at the offer.
“Or, better yet, why don’t we just play a little?”
At that, Davy’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Sure.” His houseboat was moored at the end of the dock, which meant there was a small, enclosed swimming area that Jason often hung out in. When he was feeling adventurous, he’d dive down and swim under the boat docked next to him—a huge yacht owned by some celebrity who used it about once a year. Now, with Davy, he’d just do a couple of quick circles around the enclosure—just to whet the kid’s appetite.
He stood up, eager to have some activity with his son that belonged solely to them. “What do you say? Shall we give it a shot?”
Davy’s head bobbed, stopping abruptly to scowl up at Jason. “But I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Right. Hmmm.” He peered at the boy. “What are you wearing under those shorts?”
“Underwear.”
“That’ll work,” Jason said.
“Wear my underwear?” Davy’s voice rose a few octaves.
“Sure. Why not? I’ll wear mine, too.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” Jason said. And to prove the point, he stripped off his T-shirt and shorts and stood there in his navy blue Hanes briefs. A little father-son bonding in the morning.
Davy giggled, then did the same. Soon he was standing in nothing but a pair of Scooby-Doo skivvies.
“This is gonna be cool,” he said. And then he marched over, held out his hand, and waited for Jason to take it.
A lump rose in Jason’s throat and he sighed. Baby steps, maybe. But they were stepping in the right direction.
“I’m sorry about the weird arrangements,” Lane said as Zoë led Aaron onto Jason’s balcony. It truly was awkward, but when he’d called on her cell phone, she’d had to explain where she was staving. “But I really want to stick close to Davy.”
“Where is he?” Aaron asked.
“With Jason,” Zoë answered. “When I woke up, they were having an earnest conversation on the back patio.”
Lane nodded, pleased that father and son were getting along. For a second she considered having Davy join her and Aaron, but then she decided against it. He’d had precious little time to simply hang out with Jason one-on-one; she didn’t want to interrupt them now when they were having a good time.
“I think they’re playing in the water now,” Zoë added.
“The water?”
“Yup,” Zoë said. She pointed over the balcony. “See?”
Sure enough, Davy was hanging on to Jason’s back as his father splashed and spun in the water. The little boy kicked and squealed and seemed to be having a great time. Goodness knew he deserved a great time after all he’d been through recently, but...
Lane nibbled on her lower lip. “Do you think it’s safe?”
Zoë raised an eyebrow. “What, the water? He’s with Jason.”
Good point. If anyone could keep Davy safe in the water, it was Jason.
Zoë licked her lips, bit her tongue.
“What?” Lane asked, immediately concerned.
“Nothing,” Zoë said in a rush. “Really. I was just thinking about, uh ... stuff. There’s something I’ve been trying to tell Taylor and we keep getting interrupted.” She glanced at her watch. “I think I’ll go see if he’s up yet.” And she did.
After Zoë was gone, Aaron moved up beside Lane and put a hand on her shoulder. “So, what’s going on?” he asked. “Can I help?”
Lane shook her head. “It’s nothing. Really.”
“If it’s nothing, then why are you and your entire family staying on this fellow’s boat? And if it’s nothing, why aren’t you in school? What happened to the hundreds of pages you had to read? The Law Review article to write? Finals to study for?”
“You have a trial,” she said, dodging his question. “And here you are.”
He stroked her cheek. “I’m taking a break to see you.”
She rolled her shoulder. “Maybe I’m taking a break, too.”
“Lane ...” He trailed off, a hint of reproach in his voice.
“It, uh, wasn’t really a birthday party,” she said. She picked up a muffin and started peeling away its paper.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “What wasn’t?” he asked.
“Why we made you leave yesterday,” she explained. “What Deena said. It wasn’t really a family thing.”
“Okay,” Aaron said, slowly and patiently. “Then, what is going on?”
“Well,” Lane said, “it was a family thing, just not that kind of family thing.” She edged to the balcony, peering down at Davy and Jason. Her son leaned his head back and waved at her. “Look at me, Mommy! I’m swimming!”
Jason caught the boy under the tummy and swooshed him around in the water, while Davy kicked and splashed and laughed.
“He’s okay?” she called down.
Jason laughed. “He’s doing great. Aren’t you, sport?”
In response, Davy bobbed his head underwater, then came up shaking it, sending water flying like a big, wet dog. Lane laughed, too. “Okay, but—”
“But what? He’s fine.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then decided against it and just nodded.
“Lane!” Aaron’s stern voice drew her back. “What’s going on?”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. Well, it’s a whole big child-custody thing,” she said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Jason’s father wants custody of Davy.” She took another quick glance at Davy before shifting back to Aaron. “Grandpa is a little nuts.”
“Well, then I can help,” Aaron said. “The firm has a brilliant family law section. Let me hook you up with someone.” He moved to the railing and glanced over. “Hey, kiddo,” he called. “You look pretty wet.”
“Hey, Aaron!” Davy squealed, laughing and splashing some more.
“Hey, yourself,” Aaron responded. He squeezed Lane’s hand. “So, what do you say? Want me to make some calls?”
“Look at me!” Davy’s voice drifted up to the balcony. “I’m a dolphin!”
Somehow, Jason had gotten hold of a ball, and now he held it just above Davy’s head. The boy bopped it with his nose, then splashed back under the water.
“You look great, sweetie,” Lane called.
The surface of the water became choppy, and Lane looked back, expecting to see the boat’s flag flapping in a kicked-up breeze. Instead, it hung limp.
Odd.
“What’s that?” Aaron asked, pointing down.
“I don’t see anyth—” And then she did. It was just a quick flash of something white and fleshy under the surface of the water. “Jason!” she yelled. “Look out!”
But it was too late. A giant. . . something . . . burst from the water, one huge tentacle slapping down, taking Davy and Jason under the water with it.
Lane screamed, the world turning black and white like a negative as she clutched the railing and tried to keep from fainting.
Aaron swore, his voice cutting through the fear clouding Lane’s mind. Then, “Davy!” he called. In one fluid movement, the lawyer was up on the railing, his shoes left behind on the balcony.
Lane reached for him, but her fingers only brushed the cloth of his khakis. He was gone. Over the edge and into the ocean. One more person she cared for diving right into Hieronymous’s clutches.
The Henchman’s tentacle smashed over Jason, coming from behind and sucking him and Davy beneath the murky waves. Davy yelped as they went down, then immediately tried to claw his way back to the surface.
But, right at that moment, the surface wasn’t the safe place to be. The Henchman—a slimy squidlike creature that lumbered on land but moved with the grace of a jellyfish in the sea—was likely still up there, floundering about, trying to figure out where the man and his boy had disappeared to.
With a tug on his ankles, Jason pulled his son back down. Davy struggled, but Jason kicked them under the houseboat, then gripped Davy’s shoulders and looked in his son’s eyes. The contact seemed to calm the boy, and Jason’s heart beat a little slower.
He was already kicking himself for not expecting the attack. Now all he wanted to do was get Davy back to the safety of his boat’s deck—then he’d beat the crap out of one particular Henchman.
First things first. With an eye on the surface to make sure they weren’t about to be attacked again, Jason brushed his hand through the water, clearing a space about the size of a basketball—just enough to make an air helmet for a small boy who couldn’t hold his breath long enough to suit Jason’s purposes.
Davy’s eyes widened as they watched the bubble form, then managed to get even bigger as Jason pushed the bubble through the water until it was right next to Davy’s head.
Go ahead, Jason said, mouthing the words clearly and distinctly.
His brilliant son knew exactly what he meant—and in one quick move, Davy popped his head into the bubble and took a long, deep breath.
“Wow,” he said, his voice echoing. “Just like an astronaut.”
Jason smiled. More points in his column.
Above, the tentacled creature flailed on the surface, its splashing drawing Jason’s attention. At first, Jason thought the dumb creature was simply waiting for him and Davy. But then he saw a flash of brown material, and his stomach lurched.
Lane’s voice vibrated through the water at the same instant Jason realized—“Aaron!”
Damn. He cursed the mortal, and then immediately took it back. As much as it pained him to admit it, the lawyer had been looking out for Davy. Now Jason had to look out for him.
One silvery tentacle grasped the mortal around the neck, pulling him under the water. Aaron struggled, but the Henchman’s grip was too much.
Swearing, Jason pressed his hand against Davy’s shoulder, then took the boy’s hand and closed it tight around a barnacled wooden mooring. Stay here, he mouthed.
Davy had barely nodded his agreement when Jason was up, nearing the surface. Another tentacle reached out for him, but Jason evaded, diving deeper, then flipping around. He kicked the Henchman in the gut—or what he assumed was the gut— and then grasped the tentacle holding Aaron.
The lawyer, thank Zeus, cooperated, twisting sideways as Jason tugged, until he was completely free of the vile Henchman. The mortal clamored to the surface, gulped air, and then dove back down toward Davy. Jason tensed, wondering how the man would react to seeing the boy’s bubble helmet. But he didn’t have long to worry, because the Henchman attacked again, this time managing to catch Jason between two of its wildly flailing tentacles.
Jason struggled, but the suction cups that lined the tentacles held fast to him. Below, he could see Aaron leading a helmetless Davy toward the surface—and looking back at Jason with fear and determination. Damn. He needed to get free before the idiot decided to save him and managed to get caught all over again.
His son kicked, and in the split second in which Aaron returned his attention to the boy, Jason changed. Suddenly he was a dolphin, and the tentacles’ suckers no longer adhered to his slick skin. He slid free, then flipped and aimed back toward the Henchman, ramming it in the center with his snout.
Tentacles flailed, but Jason rammed again. And again. And then once more for good measure. The creature emitted a low howl—part pain, part frustration. One more time it lashed out, but Jason evaded, dodging the path of its tentacle and then smashing it one more time in the midsection.
The ploy worked. The creature gave up, just as Jason had hoped. As a rule, Henchmen weren’t very bright, and they tended to be easily discouraged. This one flipped over, diving deep and then, with tentacles streaming behind it, headed away toward the open sea.
Jason watched it go, itching to follow. One quick glance over his shoulder and up confirmed that Davy was safe. Aaron was lifting the boy out of the water and into Lane’s arms, with Boreas and Zoë standing right nearby to wrap him in a towel.
There wasn’t a decision to make. He turned and sped toward the deep black of the ocean. He’d catch the Henchman and destroy it. In doing so, he’d send Hieronymous one damn clear message: Mess with Jason or his family, you’ll live to regret it.