Hearts of Darkness Page 7

  That was an interesting thought. Who would be adequate protection against his father? The Dark Legion? Why would they help Nighthawk? Kaede swiveled back to his desk and touched the surface, which caused a computer screen to rise out of it. This was years ahead of most tech, but that’s why his father was a villain. He made all these wonderful advances and kept them all to himself (well, and Kaede). People had tried to smuggle them out and steal them in the past, but that was a quick route to an early grave. His father had ways of keeping tabs on all his things, and showing mercy wasn’t in his vocabulary.

  With a brief flash of red, his retinal scan was done, and the monitor filled with info. Kaede used the holographic keyboard to search for information on Dr. Impossible and his collection of rare objects.

  To start, there was the stuff he already knew, and then there was the stuff his father had dug up. Dr. Impossible claimed to have found artifacts from a time traveler who had come to him for his help, which made him a laughing stock. At first. Until it seemed like he really did have technology light years ahead of everyone else’s. The Bannermen even stole one weapon, tried to have it reverse engineered, and discovered parts and materials no one had ever seen before. Also, they failed in their attempt to reverse engineer it, because it eventually self-destructed.

  According to Kaede’s father’s files, Impossible hadn’t met a time traveler but had a mole in one of his (Dr. Terror’s) companies, who was smuggling out experimental weaponry from his overseas R&D division. Dr. Impossible lied about how he got it so as to avoid Dr. Terror’s wrath, although he got that too. Oh sure, people attributed Dr. Impossible’s death to a fight gone wrong with the Reckoners, but Kaede’s father wasn’t going to have him assassinated without pinning the blame on some good guys. He’d recovered some of the items, but the rest had been scattered to the winds, and since they had been prototypes, there was no tracing them.

  His father wasn’t too worried about the missing items, as most of them had outlived their usefulness or were inferior versions of revised and upgraded tech. Except there was one item he’d always wanted back, although he didn’t say why, not in person or in his files. He called it XM-42. And he said if anyone had any idea what it was, they’d want it too.

  “At least I know what he’s after,” Kaede said.

  Ash came over and had a look at the monitor. This close, Kaede could see that Ash did have a little stubble along his jawline, although it was virtually translucent, very hard to see. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached up and touched Ash’s face, just to see what it felt like. No surprise, it felt very much like the rest of his hair, silky and a little bit like satin. Ash looked at him askance but otherwise didn’t comment.

  “I don’t suppose you know what XM-42 is?” Ash asked.

  Kaede stopped petting Ash’s jaw, although it was fun, and got back to business. “Nope.”

  “Would you know it if you saw it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ash sighed, which was pretty damn emotional for him. “Do you have a plan for going forward?”

  “Maybe.” Kaede smiled up at him. “Think you’d be up for single-handedly taking on the Dark Legion?”

  Finally Ash smiled back at him. “It’s about time I had some fun.”

  Yeah, that’s what Kaede thought.

  THE DARK Legion was made up of several supervillains who, alone, weren’t that dangerous. Together, they were complementary and more formidable. You had your muscle guy (another supersteroid victim who called himself Crusher), the guy who fancied himself a “warrior” (he called himself Dagger), a mad-scientist wannabe who really wasn’t that good (Professor Paladin), the token woman, this one with a talent for using whips (and she called herself—no surprise—Whiplash), and a very charming sociopath who simply called himself Mastermind and usually had at least one gun on him at all times. If Mastermind couldn’t charm his way out of a problem, or get his goons to solve it, he simply shot the problem until it stopped moving. He also had the distinction of having seriously wounded Dark Justice once, adding him to a list that could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

  Kaede hardly needed to look at his father’s files to scope out the weaknesses of most of them. Crusher was about as agile as a cement block; Dagger was too rigidly in love with his fighting style to improvise much; Paladin was a seriously weak fighter, with no skills beyond his tech; similarly, Whiplash wasn’t much without her whips, meaning she was a poor close-range fighter. As for Mastermind, he was the sticking point, as he was smart, a little bit crazy, and very bloodthirsty. Any excuse to hurt someone was a good day to him. And of course he was always armed and must be assumed to be armed at all times, even if you thought you’d disarmed him. He was deadly, paranoid, and just about every other bad trait you could think of. How were they going to fight him?

  Kaede knew, as a fighter, he couldn’t compare to Ash. Of course, that wasn’t a fair comparison, but Kaede felt he was a resolutely average fighter; in spite of all the training his dad made sure he had, there was no getting past the fact that he wasn’t super strong. His dad probably could have rectified that with a little more genetic tampering but for some reason had stubbornly decided not to. Kaede knew he had enough skills to get by and knew enough martial arts that his generally small size—he was average height, but in the world of heroes and villains, that made him short—wasn’t a huge handicap. But he knew his area to shine was simply in guile. He was the son—or possibly the clone—of a mad scientist. Brains were about the only thing he brought to the table. So could he outsmart Mastermind? He didn’t have to be smarter than him. He only had to think one step ahead.

  At least he had an excuse to break out the ninja suits now, as he wanted to see Ash in one. He was betting he’d look great.

  They weren’t actually proper ninja suits, but were, as his dad labeled them, “symtech suits.” Symtech was an artificial polymer made by his father, about twenty thousand times stronger than spider silk. A suit made out of it could take a shotgun blast at close range and remain intact, which Kevlar and modern body armor couldn’t claim. It could also absorb some of the impact. It wasn’t a vest but a full-body suit that came with an attached cowl, leaving only the eyes exposed. And in that case, clear symtech goggles gave them the same protection. It rendered you essentially bulletproof and weighed about three pounds overall. Ash was happy to report that it allowed full range of motion too, so it was good to fight in. If some military or gang of goons got a hold of this, they’d be virtually unstoppable, but since Kaede’s dad had invented it, there were only four suits in existence, and no one knew how to create the symtech except him. He never even wrote the formula down.

  So that was one worry taken off the table. But there were seven or eight other things they had to concern themselves with. Kaede had little doubt Ash could take out Mastermind, who might be smart and ruthless but couldn’t stand against a superior foe. But how could Kaede let Ash have all the fun? Besides, he wanted to be useful, and hanging back and letting his minions—or, in this case, a damn sexy, not-really-a-minion minion—do all the work might have been traditional, but it wasn’t for him. So what could Kaede use against a foe? Hmm.

  The good thing about Ash was, he was comfortable with silence. Kaede had to admit he was the type who might talk to fill silences, but Ash was taciturn all the way through. Growing up among death-cult monks could probably do that to you. So he was content to let Kaede think about what he could possibly do all the way until quitting time, and even then, Ash remained quiet until they got back to the suite.

  Kaede had just sat down with a stiff drink, the TV switching itself to BBC News, when Ash finally said something. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Kaede was so surprised, he almost bobbled his half-assed margarita (his recipe—it was tequila mixed with limeade). “Of course you can.”

  He thought it would be about going up against the Dark Legion or what Nighthawk was up to. That wasn’t it at all. “Could we kiss some more?”<
br />
  Again, he almost dropped his drink. But the surprise was quite pleasant. “If you’d like. We could also cuddle if you want.”

  Ash cocked his head. “What’s that?”

  Kaede managed to suppress a scoff. “You don’t…? Holy shit, you’re a virgin, aren’t you?” In retrospect, that should have been obvious—Ash didn’t know how to kiss!—but when Kaede saw a guy as cute as Ash, it was hard to believe.

  Ash nodded. “Is that bad?”

  “No, not at all. I just assumed a guy like you… would be, um, more experienced.”

  “A guy like me?”

  “Good-looking. Also, as strong as hell, which is pretty attractive too.” He then shifted on the sofa and patted the area beside him. “Come, sit here, I’ll show you.”

  Without hesitation, Ash came over and sat down, although his posture remained rigid and perfect. Kaede took him gently by the arms and guided him back against the sofa, where he then leaned in and rested his head on Ash’s shoulder. Kaede put Ash’s arm around his shoulders, and then put his own arm around Ash, settling until they were in a more comfortable position.

  “This is snuggling,” he said. It actually felt nice to be cozy with Ash, although he seemed to be a bit on the cool side, temperaturewise. Then again, wasn’t that in his father’s notes somewhere? He recalled reading something about the subjects having slightly below average body temperatures. It was a hallmark of his gengineered people. Ash’s heart rate was also slower but steady and really loud.

  Ash was stiff as a board—not in a good way—but after a few minutes, he seemed to relax. “This is… odd.”

  “In a good way or a bad way?”

  That just seemed to confuse him further. “I’m not sure.”

  “Do you want to continue? Or do you want to stop?”

  “I’m still not sure.”

  Kaede chuckled. Ash was cute in a way he’d never realized, and in a way that he’d never be able to explain to him. He stroked his hair, letting his fingers sift through the fine, soft strands, and asked, “You wanna kiss me?”

  Ash didn’t smile, mainly because it wasn’t something he did often, or easily. But there was a kind of brightness in his eyes that suggested he loved this turn of events. “Very much.”

  “So what’s stopping you?” He pulled Ash into a kiss, enjoying his soft, slightly cool lips and natural enthusiasm. He knew logically he shouldn’t get used to this, but it was so much fun, he kind of didn’t care.

  Besides, how often did you get to make out with a supersoldier? You had to do it, if only for the story.

  5

  NIGHTHAWK WAS at least good for his word at the moment, as he’d e-mailed Kaede everything he’d asked for. Kaede sat in bed, the glow of his laptop the only light, and went through the documents and attachments Nighthawk had sent. It looked like the safe was the kind his dad had dubbed a “king killer”—titanium plating, multiple redundant locks backed up with poisoned spikes and electro-spikes, and razor-sharp edges where you least expected them. If you weren’t injured or maimed in one way, you would be in another.

  Of course, Kaede could shut down many aspects of it. Even though his father insisted there was no “kill switch,” that was only true in a technical sense. There was a kill switch for most of the main traps, just not for every single one. It was the ultimate fail-safe. If by some improbable happenstance you did get the kill switch, it still wouldn’t do you any good. His father was perverse like that. So all Kaede had to deal with was the traps that weren’t neutralized. From fifty down to five. Easy as pie, right? Especially considering the fact that he also had to expect a double-cross from Nighthawk on top of it all. At least the symtech suits would make things a lot easier.

  He rubbed his eyes and wondered if Ash was awake yet. They’d cuddled on the couch awhile, made out for a little bit, then cuddled some more. They watched a movie—Up, since Ash was still enchanted by animation—and sometime during the evening news, Ash nodded off. He was so cute sleeping that Kaede hated to move and wake him, but his arm was numb up to his shoulder. He managed to slip out from under him without waking him up, and he left him drowsing on the couch. He considered waking him to send him to bed, but Ash looked so peaceful, Kaede couldn’t disturb him. So he put a blanket over him, one of the nice fake-fur ones, and left him to rest.

  It was so strange to look at him—so angelic, so sweet—and know that he was one of Kaede’s father’s most lethal creations. It made Kaede angry at his father. Well, angrier. Ash had had no childhood, and apparently no life either, not as anything but a killing machine. And now Kaede’s father was using him again for that purpose, like he was just another piece of high-tech gadgetry. That’s probably all he was to Kaede’s dad, and it wasn’t fair, but Ash didn’t even seem to recognize that. Either that, or he forgave him simply because he didn’t know things could be any other way.

  Kaede was angry for him, though he knew it was pointless. Even if he told his father point-blank why he was furious with him, it wouldn’t stick. That was the great benefit of being both crazy and aloof—everything rolled off Dr. Terror’s back, even righteous anger.

  Then again, why was Kaede so mad? He’d known about this particular horror of his father for some time now. Was he only upset because he liked Ash?

  Which was yet another problem. He was getting too close to Ash. Getting involved with a bodyguard was never good or smart… but he was so cute! And remarkably sweet for a supersoldier who didn’t know how to function in the world. Kaede had this odd desire to protect him, even though Ash was the last person on the planet to ever need protection. This felt more dangerous than any attachment he’d ever formed before… and yet, he really didn’t want to shove Ash away.

  Kaede closed his laptop, aware that he’d already made up his mind. He liked Ash too much to back away now. And gods help anyone who got in their way.

  OVER BREAKFAST, Ash was apologetic for falling asleep, but Kaede explained that was a pretty normal end result of cuddling. It remained cute how Ash didn’t understand these basic things, but when he sat down and started talking tactical strategies, he was light years ahead of anything Kaede had considered. They just had different knowledge banks to draw from.

  Kaede e-mailed Nighthawk to let him know they were on, and then Kaede spent the better part of his office time doing research and coming up with a couple of gadgets he could use. You never wanted to be the weak spot in a plan requiring brute force, but to get to Ash’s level he’d need lots of supersteroids, gengineering, and smart pills. But the thought of the gaps in Ash’s knowledge made him realize he didn’t need to equal Ash, just cover the things that Ash didn’t. That wasn’t much.

  Nighthawk got back to him. He was eager to move, and why not? The feds were probably going to jump ahead of the relatives and take what they could. Everybody wanted a piece of the Owl’s—meaning Kaede’s dad’s—tech. They made plans to meet at midnight at the Owl’s hidden storehouse, which was in the warehouse district (of course).

  Back home, it was nothing to call up Google Street View and look at the warehouse from all angles. There were lots of places for the Dark Legion to hide. It was a great place for an ambush, which Ash noted immediately. He didn’t like it, because Nighthawk could have a platoon hidden in there, but Kaede pointed out they had orbital protection. Kamani had a couple of “communication satellites” in orbit, which, in reality, were weapons his father could access should the need arise. Kaede had the access codes. He could order up a laser bombardment from orbit. Kaede was able to get some satellite-targeting discs from R&D so he could mark targets, and as soon as he triggered the satellites, the things with a tag would vaporize. And the funny thing was, most people thought that technology was still in the future, that satellite death rays weren’t yet possible. Oh, to live in that world of blissful ignorance. But he was counting on everyone else involved in this to be living in that happy little world.

  Ash was insistent they work out some code words and signals, since they w
eren’t sure how many people (and who) would be involved in the double cross. On the one hand, he was flattered at how much Ash wanted to guard his body. But on the other hand, he wasn’t completely helpless. He just seemed that way put up against supersteroid monstrosities and a few costume fetishists with daddy issues.

  They suited up with their symtech gear, although Kaede added a black T-shirt and black pants over his as he wanted to mislead everyone. As for the cowl, it just looked like a ski mask with the front part of the face removed. As with the satellite, he wanted all who opposed them to be surprised at what they were capable of. Ash didn’t bother, because Ash wasn’t going to be seen by them… until it was too late.

  They went in the same car because they weren’t crazy, but Kaede let Ash out two blocks from the warehouses because there was no need to show up together. That would ruin everything.

  Kaede drove around the block just to kill some time, then finally came to the warehouse Nighthawk specified. Nighthawk was lurking in the shadows, dressed in his ridiculous supervillain gear. It was gray-black spandex, not at all flattering to his figure, with a tiny back cape with a wing pattern on it. His famous high-tech goggles were perched on top of his head, at least for now. “That’s your gear?” he said disparagingly, apparently not a fan of the casual look.

  “I don’t really have a theme yet. Or a name.”

  “Dr. Terror Junior?”

  It didn’t even sound like a joke, triggering a violent frown. “You can’t be serious. In fact, you’d better not be, or we’re done here.”

  Nighthawk raised his gloved hands, which also had some sort of wing motif on them. They looked as ridiculous as the rest of the outfit. “Okay, jeez. Touchy or what?”

  “I don’t like people expecting my father when dealing with me. We’re not the same.” Unless he was actually a clone, in which case they were, but that was neither here nor there.