The Rise of Renegade X (15 page)

Uh-huh. What was all that stuff about living with Gordon being a big opportunity for me? More like an opportunity for her to have her boyfriend over without me getting in the way. I like Taylor okay and everything, but I don’t like having to listen to him and my mom call each other stupid names like “honeybuns” and “sugar lemon,” and I
don’t
want to know what they do behind closed doors. Or doors that are only mostly closed. But I can guess, and having him spend the night at our house kind of creeps me out. Now they’ve got six weeks of bliss while I’m stuck in a hellhole full of superheroes.

Mom sets her glass down on the coffee table. “Imagine what it’ll be like next year, when he’s off at school. The house will be so empty!”

“At
my
school, Marianna.” Taylor half groans, half laughs. “Causing all sorts of trouble, no doubt.”

Ha. That scamp. What a rascal that Damien must be.

“The admissions process is nearly over,” Taylor says. “The deadline is coming up. I ought to be making the final decisions within the next couple weeks. I’ll definitely have them done by the first of April. I was … ah, wondering if Damien might find time to talk to me. I don’t want to show special treatment, but I’d like to do an interview, if you don’t mind.”

What’s wrong with special treatment? I have absolutely no objections to him interviewing me to see how great I am. Maybe he wants to start me in the advanced classes.

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Mom says. A timer dings in the kitchen and she gets up to check on it.

Taylor corks the champagne bottle and sets it on the other side of the table, away from Mom’s glass. She hurries back in, a giant metal pot steaming between her potholder-covered hands. She nearly drops it on the table. Slowly, she pulls back the lid and waves her hand over the pot to waft the smell toward her nose. “Ahhh. Another perfect batch. Now if only you could get Dr. Kink’s device working.”

Dr. Kink? As in Sarah’s father, who got kidnapped by supervillains? And are they talking about the same hypno device that I sort of, uh, broke? Nah. Probably all a coincidence.

Taylor rubs his temples. “Don’t remind me. I’m not planning on doing any more testing until we get more answers out of him. He swore to me he’d repaired the device last time, and you know how that turned out. I don’t want another Ruthersford incident. Your potion worked beautifully, of course, made the whole town susceptible to the effects of Dr. Kink’s device, but ultimately he must not have adjusted it right, because things didn’t go as planned. The trigger word turned the people of Ruthersford into a mindless, raging mob, instead of properly submitting to mind control. I almost didn’t get out of there. Luckily, I chose a trigger word not likely to be used too often so close to Vilmore. And even if someone does say it, you know how they feel about superheroes around there. No one will care.”

“Don’t let it discourage you, honeybuns. It’s not your fault. If Damien had been more careful in my lab …” She takes a deep breath to calm herself and shakes her head. “The device is the last piece of the puzzle, and once we have it working, everything will go exactly as planned. We’ll be making big names for ourselves in no time.”

“If
we can get it working.” Taylor sips his champagne. “Dr. Kink was in tears today, tinkering around with the device with a tiny screwdriver, but he couldn’t make it work. I honestly believe the man’s had some kind of breakdown since he published those articles and made the prototype. He’s not the same. Some days, he tells me he doesn’t know anything about the invention at all and begs me to let him go free. Still …” Taylor sets the glass down and drops his arms at his sides. “The students have been quite useful in getting him to talk. I told you I took on a couple of promising TAs from the Advanced Torture Techniques class? Henrietta Stone is still a little timid, but you should see Peter Heath.”

Ah, good old Pete.

“He’s extremely enthusiastic, and his methods are …” Taylor’s eye twitches. “I think he’ll find himself very at home in a torture chamber someday, if he chooses to go that route. If we need an assistant in the final stages of the plan, I think he’d do quite nicely. Lots of ambition, that boy.”

I have ambition, too. Just because I maybe broke their stupid hypno device, they’re going to pick Pete to help them with their evil plans? It’s one thing for them not to want me in the house while they make out, but choosing Pete over me? That hurts.

“But enough business,” Taylor says. He reaches into his pocket. “Marianna, we need to talk about something important, something I’ve been thinking about for quite some time now, but I didn’t want to bring it up with Damien around. It’s nothing against him, I just wasn’t sure how he’d react, and … I want this to be a happy occasion.” Taylor swallows and pulls a small, black velvet box out of his pocket. He flips it open to reveal a glittering diamond ring. “Marianna Locke, you’re the best partner in crime a villain could have. No matter how many hypno devices get broken, and even if all our schemes come to nothing, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. What I’m trying to say is, will you marry me?”

Mom shrieks with joy. She puts her hands to her face, gaping at Taylor. “Yes, of course!” He slips the ring on her finger and puts his scraggly bearded mouth over hers. I’m so disgusted, I can’t see straight.

I feel sick, and like the ground just dropped out from under me. The memory of falling off the tallest building in Golden City flashes through my head, and I relive that horror on top of this one. I can’t stand it. I step out into view, ruining their moment. It takes Mom a second to notice me, but when she does, she looks pretty freaked. She pushes Taylor off her. “Damien! Sweetie, what are you doing here?!” She moves to press the lid back over the container of hypno potion.

I put my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt and look around, as if I’ve never seen the place. “Last I checked, I thought I lived here.”

“Damien,” Mom says, scrambling to her feet, “you’re supposed to be at Gordon’s, not creeping around the house.”

“I have to come home, Mom. You can’t make me stay with those people!”

“Just a moment, Damien. It’s not safe for you, with …” Mom glances at the pot containing the hypno potion, then at Taylor. “You’re young, and you don’t want to breathe in nasty chemicals with those healthy lungs of yours, right?” She laughs nervously, then grabs her potholders and carts the potion off into the other room, so the superhero half of me doesn’t get poisoned by it or whatever.

Leaving me alone with her boyfriend. I mean
fiancé
. I stand there in my hooded sweatshirt with my hands in my pockets, the perfect picture of a sullen teenager, staring down Taylor Lewis.

“So,” he says, “are you excited to have your
V?”
I guess Mom didn’t want him to know about her shameful tryst with a superhero. He tries to laugh good naturedly, but the tension in the room is too high. When I don’t respond, he goes on. “Damien, I want you to know I love your mother very much. I’ve thought a lot about this—it wasn’t spur of the moment—and I never meant for you to find out this way.”

“How
did
you want me to find out? When I was off at school, where my freaking out about it couldn’t bother you in your love nest?” I’m so mad, I’m tempted to tell him who my father really is, just to spite Mom.

Taylor’s mouth hangs open. He struggles to find something else to say to me. “I’m going to be your stepfather. I’d hoped that would be good news to you.”

“At least you’re a supervillain,” I mutter.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I turn away from him and wait for Mom to come back. When she does, she’s got this big, fake smile plastered across her face. Or maybe it’s not so fake, because when she smiles at Taylor, it looks pretty real. I guess it’s only fake when it’s for me.

“Damien, sweetie, can I have a
word
with you?” She shoos me into her bedroom. The room she’s no doubt shared with Taylor many times since she shipped me off to Gordon’s. Her bed isn’t made, and it’s obvious both sides have been used lately. Great. I kick some of her dirty laundry out of my way on the floor.

Mom shuts the door. She can’t help beaming at the ring on her finger. “Isn’t this exciting?”

I scowl at her messy bed. “I hope you’re using protection, Mom. The last thing I want right now is another sibling.”

She acts like she doesn’t hear me. She’s got this selective-hearing condition that acts up now and then. “I want you to be happy for me.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Not exactly enthusiastic. Maybe she should try me again on a day when I
haven’t
just been thrown off a building. “Look, I need to come home. I promise I won’t get in your and Taylor’s way.”

“It’s only a little while longer,” Mom says, putting her hands on my shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

“Like five weeks—”

“It’ll fly right by. It’s a learning experience. Studying the enemy in their own home. Think how much further ahead you’ll be than the other students when you start at Vilmore.”

My shoulders slump. All I want to do is go home, but I don’t know where that is anymore. “You’re only saying that to get rid of me. You want the house all to yourself. How’s Taylor going to like having a stepson who’s half
superhero
, huh? He didn’t know all the facts when he popped the question. Maybe if you tell him the truth, he’ll change his mind. He’s going to find out when I go to Vilmore next year.”

Mom glares at me, her lasers charging in her eyes. “Damien Locke. You
don’t
have to be happy for me, but you do have to accept that I can make my own choices. Taylor makes me happy, and he’s going to be your stepfather, whether you like it or not.”

“You’re hiding things from him, and you think it’s a good idea to get married?”

Mom’s lasers die down, her anger replaced with a smug look. “Have you told Kat yet?”

Touché. “Kat’s not my girlfriend. It’s different.”

“I know this is going to be difficult for you, especially with all the other changes and new people in your life, but you’re going to have to face the fact that I’m not going to stay single forever, and Taylor and I are in love.”

“Were you even going to invite me to the wedding? Or were you going to elope before I got back?”

“How should I know? He
just
proposed—we haven’t made plans yet.”

“Right.” That makes me feel so much better.

“You should probably go now, Damien. Was there anything else you needed?”

“I’m not going back to them. Gordon tried to kill me. That lousy cape flapper tried to—”

“Then I guess it really is good supervillain training, isn’t it?” Mom smiles at me. An “I’m older and smarter than you” smile. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come home yet. Taylor and I are involved—”

“I can see that.”

“—in some very important work. We can’t be bothered.”

“By someone who’s only half villain.”

“It’s the superhero half that’s a problem. I don’t know how the hypno potion would affect you, and I don’t want to find out. Plus, I don’t want to have to worry about what to tell Taylor, concerning your X. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and I can’t be distracted.” A gleam off her new diamond ring catches her attention. “At least, not any more than I’m going to be.” She grins, then opens the door and steers me out. She walks me through the living room and the hallway, to the front door.

Mom leans forward and hugs me. I’m taller than her, but I don’t remember when that happened. “Take care of yourself, all right, sweetie? And for God’s sakes, eat more, will you? I can feel your ribs.”

“Sure, Mom. Whatever you say.”

“Oh, and Damien? One more thing. Next time you visit? Call first.”

Then she shuts the door in my face.

When I get back to Gordon’s that evening, the first thing I notice is that someone has snipped Mr. Wiggles in half.
Someone
, who is a fat, lying bitch with shallow friends and no way to attract boys, has cut him in two, right under his little guitar, and left him for me to find on the dining room table.

Alex and three of his liveliest friends come screaming in from the kitchen. They whirl past me, each of them touching my leg like a goalpost as they continue on into the other room. I don’t feel them, I don’t feel anything.

The top of Amelia’s head appears from around the corner in the kitchen. She gasps and pulls back into hiding.

“Honey?” Helen calls from the other room. “Is that Damien? Your father’s been looking all over for him!”

Amelia doesn’t answer her. She ventures into the dining room and bites her lip. “I’m sorry, Damien,” she says. “I thought you killed Blue Bunnykins.”

I don’t acknowledge her presence. I gather up Mr. Wiggles’s broken body, still in shock.

“But it turns out it was Alex, not you.” She twirls a lock of her hair around her finger. “He was playing heroes and villains with it and got carried away, so I’m mad at him, not you, and I’m really, really—”

I turn and walk away. I don’t care what her explanation is. Not today. She was so quick to blame the villain before. She didn’t believe me about not doing it, so why should I believe her about feeling bad for what she’s done?