Jinx (25 page)

30

I didn’t dwell on my precarious predicament. I’d learned a long time ago there was no use pondering the supermesses I made. They never got cleaned up that way.

The first thing I did was see to Joanne. Hangman had been considerate enough to sling her unconscious body onto one of the cots inside the cell. The bump on her head worried me, but I couldn’t do anything about that right now. I checked her pulse and breathing again. Both were still steady and strong, and the cuts and bruises on her face and hands were mostly superficial. Joanne James was made of tougher stuff than her stick figure let on. I pulled off her shoes, smoothed her hair back from her face, and put a blanket over her body, trying to make her as comfortable as possible, since it looked like we were going to be here awhile.

The second thing I did was try the cell door. It was just as solid and sturdy and steely as it looked. The bars didn’t budge—not even an inch. There weren’t any hinges to pop this time. I wouldn’t be getting out of this cell without some serious assistance. Too bad I didn’t have Fiona’s superstrength to help me bust out.

I paced back and forth in the cell, trying to figure a way out of my prison. Minutes slipped by, then an hour, then another one. And still I couldn’t think of a way to get out of the cell.

Frustrated, I smacked my hand against the bars. A familiar jangle sounded, and my eyes fell to the silver charm bracelet around my wrist. Then again, maybe I had something even better than superstrength—a toy from Jasper. I’d forgotten about the bomb-filled bracelet while Hangman flew us away, but I was sure going to use it now. If I could figure out how to do that without blowing Joanne and me up in the process.

“Bella?”

I turned to find Joanne sitting up on the cot. The other woman’s eyes went slowly around the brig, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Where are we?” Her words slurred together, her violet eyes hazy and out of focus.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, gently probing the bump on the side of Joanne’s head with my fingers. It had gone down considerably since I’d checked it a few minutes ago.

“I have a headache,” Joanne replied. “And my stomach hurts. What happened?”

“Don’t you remember?”

She shook her head and winced. “Not really. I just remember Berkley smiling at me . . .”

I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but I filled Joanne in on everything that had happened at the museum and since Prism had knocked her out, including the ubervillain’s master plan.

“She killed Berkley so she could use the sapphire to power her laser? To get money from the city?”

Joanne’s eyes filled with tears. She put her head in her hands. I put my arm around her. Joanne buried her face in my shoulder and cried. Violent sobs shook her thin body, and her hot tears dripped down my shoulder and arm. The salt from them made my own cuts burn.

Joanne let herself cry for five minutes. Then, she pulled away from me and swiped the rest of the tears from her eyes. Her mascara had cascaded down her face, reminding me of some sort of black superhero mask. Joanne got to her feet, marched over to the cell bars, and started tugging on them for all she was worth.

“What are you doing?” I asked, surprised by her actions. “You’re not some superhero in disguise, are you?”

“Of course not,” Joanne snapped in a dark, violent tone. “I don’t know about you, but I plan on getting out of here and derailing Prism’s little plan. After I kill the bitch, of course. Now, are you going to sit there or are you going to get off your sorry ass and help me?”

I got off my sorry ass and went over to the bars. But instead of helping Joanne fruitlessly tug at them, I took the bracelet off my wrist and looked through the dangling silver charms.

“What the hell are you doing? Now is not the time to be admiring your jewelry, Bella.”

“I’m not admiring it,” I said, getting a little snappish. “And it’s not really a bracelet. If you must know, each one of these charms is really an explosive—far more valuable than a bracelet right now.”

Joanne’s sharp eyes locked onto the bracelet. “Did Jasper make that for you?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“You could say that.” Her mouth twisted. “He’s my brother.”

“Your brother?!”
I screeched.

Joanne winced. “Tone it down, Bella. Your voice is getting almost as loud as your hair.”

I opened my mouth to pepper her with questions, but Joanne cut me off.

“Yes, Jasper’s my brother,” she said. “We don’t have the best relationship, which is why nobody knows we’re related. He doesn’t approve of my life choices, and I’m not too crazy about his.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Joanne snapped, her violet eyes hard and angry. “Can we just focus on getting out of here right now?”

Joanne James, the sister of the city’s master bomber? It boggled the mind, but I decided to save my questions for later. Right now, all that mattered was the two of us escaping in more or less one piece.

“The problem is I can’t remember which charm he said had the least amount of explodium in it. Even if I could remember, the explosion would probably still kill us both.”

Joanne took the bracelet from my cold fingers and flipped through the charms. “Here, it’s this one.” She pointed to one in the shape of a small rose.

“How do you know that?”

“I just know.” Joanne’s mouth twisted again. “And don’t worry about the explosion. We can get behind the cot. We’ll be fine, trust me.”

Joanne seemed to have a lot of faith in Jasper, even if they were estranged. I decided to trust her. I didn’t have a lot of other options. Luck could only get you so far, and then you had to do things for yourself.

“But what are we going to do once we get out of here?” I pointed to the door at the far end of the room. “I heard them lock it. Even if we get through that door too, they’ll be waiting on the other side for us. Anyway, they’re bound to hear the explosion when we use the charm to blow open the cell door.”

Joanne shook her head. “Not with this one. It’ll make a small
pop
, but that’s about it.” She flipped through some more of the charms. “We can use the high-heel shoe to blast the lock on the next door. It’s not much more powerful than the rose.”

“And then what?”

Joanne hefted the bracelet in her bloody hands. “I’d say we arm the bracelet, toss it in the room with them, and take our chances.”

“That seems like a hell of a chance to take,” I said. “Jasper told me there was enough explodium in that thing to take out half the city.”

“We can modify the charge a bit, but he’s right. There’s enough explodium here to do that—and it should be more than enough to knock out Prism and Hangman. Or just kill them. I’m okay with either of those options.”

I worked it out in my mind. I couldn’t remember seeing another door in the room when we’d been brought in, but surely, there had to be another way off the boat besides going back up to the deck and flying off à la Hangman.

“All right, then,” I said, making up my mind. “Let’s do it.”

With Joanne’s help, I dragged the cot away from the wall and tipped it over on its side. It wasn’t much, just some metal bars with a hard pallet over them, but it was better than nothing.

As we worked, I couldn’t help thinking about Devlin. He’d looked half dead the last time I’d seen him. I didn’t know how badly he was hurt, and it was killing me. I could only imagine how Joanne felt, losing Berkley. I didn’t think I’d be holding up half as well as she was under the circumstances.

Once we had the cot arranged to our satisfaction, Joanne took the bracelet from me. She slipped the rose charm off the silver chain and popped it into the lock like a pro.

“Where did you learn so much about explosives?” I asked. “Did Jasper teach you?”

“Not exactly.”

Joanne didn’t volunteer any more information, and I decided not to pry. She’d been through enough already today.

“What’s the code?” Joanne said. “You have to say it out loud for the bomb to arm itself.”

She knew about Jasper’s code words too? Joanne was full of surprises.

I leaned down to the rose charm and said the magic words. “Luck be a lady.”

Joanne raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything about my unusual choice. We scrambled back around the cot and crouched down behind it.

Pop!

Joanne was right. The sound was scarcely louder than someone clapping their hands together. But it was more than enough to blow the lock off the door. We waited for the smoke to clear, then stepped out of the cell and crept down to the other door. We stopped and listened, but I couldn’t hear anything through the thick metal door—except for some weird sort of humming.

“What do you think that is?” Joanne asked in a hushed voice.

“Probably Prism firing up her laserama. She said she was going to own the city by dawn.” I checked my angel watch. “That’s a little less than an hour from now. She must be getting ready to destroy whatever her target is.”

“What about the Fearless Five?” Joanne asked. “Why aren’t they here yet?”

“Prism has some kind of shielding device on the yacht. Don’t worry. They should find us before too long. They sprayed the sapphire with radioactive tracking paint. They’re probably on their way right now. They’ll save us.”

Joanne’s face hardened. “Like they saved Berkley?”

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to save myself,” Joanne snapped. “Now give me your bracelet again.”

I did as she asked. Joanne slipped another charm—the high-heel shoe—off the bracelet and stuffed it into the lock. I said the magic words, and we scurried back down the hallway to our cell.

Pop! Pop!

The explosion made a bit more noise than before, but not enough to draw immediate attention, because neither Prism nor Hangman came to investigate. We crept back up to the door. A bit of smoke wafted away from the obliterated lock. It reminded me of roses, the same scent Debonair trailed behind him wherever he went. My heart twisted.

We went into the workroom, but the ubervillains weren’t down here anymore. I led Joanne through the halls, retracing the path the ubervillains had made. Our feet sank into the carpet. The only sounds were our labored breathing, and that faint, ominous hum. We passed what looked like a living room, and Joanne motioned for me to stop. She slid inside and picked up a fireplace poker and then a phone on top of one of the tables. My heart lifted. If she could call for help, this whole mess would be over.

Joanne made a disgusted face and slammed down the phone. “No dial tone.”

So we crept on, past room after room. We went upstairs and downstairs, but we couldn’t find another way off the boat—other than going back up to the main deck.

After a whispered discussion, we decided to make a break for it. We reached the door that led out to the deck. Joanne eased it open, and we stuck our heads outside. I didn’t see Prism anywhere, but Hangman stood next to the laser, making notations on a large clipboard. He’d already stuck the sapphire into the machine just in front of the barrel, and it bathed the whole deck in a harsh blue glow. The machine also hummed, a low, steady drone that made it hard to think.

I scanned the deck, looking for a way off. My eyes landed on a couple of small dinghies lashed to one side. Too bad Hangman stood between us and them. There was no way we could sneak past the ubervillain without him seeing and stopping us—

The smell of roses of filled the air.

POP!

Debonair teleported in front of Hangman. The ubervillain’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“What the hell are you doing—”

That was all he got out before Debonair punched him in the face. The blow was enough to rock Hangman back on his feet, but not enough to knock him down or unconscious. It was, however, enough to make Debonair wince. He looked even worse than he had at the museum. Blood covered his face and costume, and his left arm hung at his side in a weird, twisted angle. Pain whitened his face underneath his mask, and fever and exhaustion brightened his eyes. I grimaced at the sight of the sexy thief, sickened and angry by what the ubervillains had done to the man I loved.

Hangman shook off the blow and leapt at Debonair, and the two started teleporting and flying around the deck like madmen.

POP!

Smack!

POP! POP!

Smack!

It was like standing in the middle of a sound effects machine.

“Where are they?” Debonair demanded, teleporting all around the boat, always just out of Hangman’s long grasp. “Where’s Bella? What have you done to her?”

In between teleports, Debonair would lash out with his one good arm and punch the ubervillain in the face or kick him with his boots. The sight warmed my heart, but it also filled me with nauseating dread. I hated seeing Debonair in danger, especially because of me.

My power pulsed, adding to my sense of unease. I realized there was something missing, or rather someone. Where was Prism?

I got my answer a second later. The ubervillain stepped out from behind the device. She smiled, drew the laserama from her belt, and pointed it at Debonair’s back. There was no time to get to her. No time to distract her or call out a warning. No time to do anything at all. Debonair was going to die just like Berkley Brighton had. Just like my father, James, had.

But somehow, I did something. I reached for my power, imagining Debonair’s feet sliding out from under him, willing it to happen, praying for it to like I’d never prayed for anything before in my life.

And they did.

He took a step, and his boots skidded along the deck. Before I could warn him, Prism pushed the button on her laserama. Debonair hit the floor just as the red beam zapped through the air above his bloody chest. The laser hit one of the dinghies on the opposite side of the yacht. The wood burst into flames.

But as my bad luck would have it, Debonair smacked his head against the deck when he fell. He let out a low groan and tried to get to his feet, but Hangman was too quick for him. The ubervillain put his enormous foot on Debonair’s chest, pinning him.