Galilee Rising (3 page)

I'm reviewing the footage from Oleg's strip club when hurried footsteps on the ramp cause me to swivel around. Dobbs rushes in unnerved. "What is it?" I ask.

"Visitors." I glimpse up at the red light that's supposed to flash when someone's at the gate, but it's still. "They didn't come through the gate."

"Who--"

"Hope we're not disturbing you," a man says as he strolls into sight. My mouth slacks open. "Just popped by to borrow a cup of sugar."

"They insisted, Miss Joanna," Dobbs says.

Of course. Because my life isn't complicated enough.

As if he owned the place, King Tempest leads his compatriots past my apprehensive butler. I scowl at the threesome, but only Lord Nightingale seems to be looking at me. The other two survey the room. "Smaller than I pictured," King Tempest says. "Comfy looking couch." The most famous crime fighting group is in my secret lair commenting on the décor. O-Kay. Tempest strides toward me, extending his gloved hand. "You must be Joanna. Pleased to finally meet you."

He's tall, easily a foot taller than me and big, though not fat. I'll bet those muscles under his costume are all him. Everything but his mouth is covered by a cowl. The only decorations on his costume are the K.T. on his cape, tornado on his chest, and crown with R.T. on his left arm. The other two heroes are less physically formidable but still intimidating. To his right, Lady Liberty stands up straight in her black suit, long blonde hair cascading around her shoulders. She's tall too, near six foot, but thin. The contours on her suit are probably tailored that way. Like the others only her mouth is visible. Right over her small chest in pink are the initials L.L. and in white on her arm is the same crown and R.T. Next to her waits Lord Nightingale. He's an inch or two shorter than her, medium build but how much of that is the dark purple costume I don't know. There's a bird, I assume a nightingale, on his chest and the crown on his arm. For some reason out of all of them he makes me the edgiest. His gaze hasn't left me since he walked in. Studying me. Creep. Wish I could see his eyes under those tinted plastic slits.

I glance at Tempest's hand then up to his hidden eyes. "What do you want?"

The hero pulls his arm away with a chuckle. "We just came to introduce ourselves."

"Why?" I ask, folding my arms across my chest.

Tempest glances at his friends. "Friendly town, huh?" Liberty smiles but Nightingale remains impassive. Tempest turns back around. "We're here to stay. To get this city back in order. To do that, we need your help."

"More accurately, we need that computer," Liberty says. "It's got the whole city wired, right? Cameras, all of it? We need it, and you need to let us use it."

"How the hell did you even know it was here?"

"Justice," Tempest says. "I showed him ours, and he told us about his. He add those additional cameras?"

My back straightens. "How did you know it was
here
? In this house?"

"He told us," Liberty says.

And the hits keep coming. Just when I think I've gotten over the years of betrayal and lies, some assholes show up uninvited, and the feelings come back. "He told you who he was," I say with a scoff. Me, who knows him for twenty years he keeps half of his existence from but spills to three people he knew for a week.

"And we told him," Tempest says. As if that makes it okay.

I glance at Nightingale, whose head is hung a little. Even without seeing his face I know he's feeling sorry for me. This pisses me off even more. "Good for you. Look, I'm too busy right now to play welcome wagon lady. I'll take your request under advisement, okay? You know the way out." I turn around in my chair.

"I don't know why she's making this so difficult," Liberty says behind me.

I scoff and spin around again. "You barge into my home, insult me, and pretty much demand to use my computer. Excuse me if I'm a little bitchy."

Tempest glances back at Liberty, who folds her arms across her chest. "You're right," Tempest says. "We're sorry."

"Thank you. Bye, now."

"Jesus! She's being ridiculous!" Liberty snaps. "We're here to help you! You should be thanking us for uprooting our lives to save this crappy city, not giving us shit!"

"This crappy city doesn't need you to save it, thank you very much. We're fine."

"Not even you can be that thick," Liberty sneers.

My eyes narrow at her. "Just leave."

"Not until you say yes," Liberty says. "You know you will eventually."

"And why the hell would I?"

"Because," Nightingale says, speaking for the first time. The other two stare at him in surprise. "You're a good person. Because you care about this city and the people within it. Because you know we can help. And because…it's what Justin would want. That's why."

Shit. Double shit. A huge part of me wants to kick them the hell out of this house and seal the doors. I want nothing to do with any of this. Of them. I don't want them anywhere near me. The last time I was dragged into the super world I was shot at, beaten, burned, kidnapped, bombed, spent a day in a coma, and watched as my soul mate killed himself to save me. Not looking for a repeat. I've given enough for this city.

But he's right. Hell, they're all right. This city needs them. No one else is offering. I can't really see a downside, at least for Galilee. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Goddamn, being a good person sucks so much.

So in spite of all the reasons why not, the word, "Fine," escapes my lips. And I know I've sealed my fate.

Tempest smiles. "Thank you."

"Whatever," I say. "You'll need the manual and emergency phone. It alerts you to all major crimes." I collect them from the drawer and hand them to Tempest.

Nightingale steps forward and takes them instead. "Thank you," he mutters with a nod before moving away.

"Welcome."

"You've done a good thing," Tempest says.

For who? "Bully for me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to finish up what I was doing so I can go to bed. Use the ramp in the corner to get out. It leads down to the beach. I don't want the neighbors to see you."

"Of course," Tempest says. "Team?" He turns to leave and starts walking. Liberty gives me a shiteating grin before following, and Nightingale lowers his head as if embarrassed before trailing behind as well.

I watch as the first two disappear, but Nightingale stops at the exit. He turns around, head still hung and unable to look at me. "Um…have-have a pleasant evening," he says before literally flying away.

"Okay," I mutter. With a sigh, I fall back into my chair and just sit for a minute. "Shit." Just when I think I'm out, they suck me right back in.

At least this time I have nothing left to lose.

CHAPTER TWO

New Acquaintances

I hate this hospital. I hate this fucking hospital so much I seriously considered buying it outright, leveling it to the ground and dancing around the ashes. I was kidnapped here. My soul mate died here. Now, at least twice a month, I'm subjected to hours of torture here as a bunch of rich assholes blather on about cutting beds for indigent people and upping costs to make the hospital more profitable. Sadly, along with the billions I inherited, also came several board positions including those for both museums, the zoo, Restoration Society, hospital, and others I can't remember. I prefer my old method of giving back: slapping cuffs on criminals. Feels like I'm working with them now.

As Danforth Mills drones on about a new drug trial, my mind wanders to my new best friends. I was up late last night pulling every clipping, news report, and even police file on the Triumvirate. The computer database was no help. It seems Justin deleted all the files on superheroes. This pissed me off all over again. Even in death he didn't trust me. As if I'd walk up to someone and shout, "Hey, aren't you Olympia?" My manners aren't that bad. So I had to do it the hard way. I yawn from the memories.

They formed about five years ago when King Tempest was just Tempest, Lord Nightingale was The Nightingale. Liberty, always a Lady, was first on the superhero scene a year before, working solo until Nightingale, and then Tempest arrived to steal her glory. They all did okay alone with Liberty defeating Bully, Nightingale recovering priceless paintings from a ring of thieves, and Tempest rescuing an ambassador from a kidnapper. Best I can tell, their paths crossed while they were all tracking down a meth manufacturer whose stuff was poisoning idiotic college students. They stopped the bad men with guns together and decided to team up. So the men crowned themselves nobility and went out to kick ass with the Lady.

Tempest is the leader, a fact the other two don't seem to mind. He's the physically strongest, probably as strong as Justice was, lifting cars as if they were toys. He must be able to heal faster than normal, Nightingale too, because from what I saw in the footage, they'd be dead twelve times over by now otherwise. Not sure about Liberty though. It looks as if that force field of hers goes up the moment there's danger, so nobody can touch her. Lucky bitch. All three can fly too. Must have helped with the bonding.

The similarities end there. Tempest can control the weather, strongly preferring mini-tornados and lightning bolts from the sky to dispatch hoodlums. Liberty's weapon of choice is energy blasts, presumably made from the same matter as her force field. She has a hell of an arm. Nightingale is a little more subtle. He's the best fighter of them, obviously trained in several forms of martial arts. I found myself admiring his flexibility, among other well defined attributes. He's strong too, though nowhere near as Herculean as Tempest, but can bring someone down with one punch. He's also allegedly the brains of the operation. Some people believe he's a telepath, that he can read minds, but when asked, he said, "No." All the strategy, most of the investigating, even new weapons come from him. Maybe he's responsible for my laser gun.

It took them all of two months, and the defeat of Dr. Demented's giant robot, to gain national notoriety. The sheer longevity of their partnership garners press as most superhero leagues last only a few battles before they drive each other nuts and go their separate ways. The Triumvirate soldiers on together, making them the most popular squad in the world. They even have their own pillowcases and action figures. They are good at their jobs. They've saved two presidents, four visiting queens, defeated Emperor Cain three thrice, cleaned up the worst Independence neighborhood, and still have time to visit children's cancer wards and raise money for various charities.

The group dynamic is intriguing too. Tempest does most of the talking when dealing with the press and hostile heiresses. If asked a direct question, the other two will answer, though Nightingale keeps it to monosyllable and appears ready to bolt the first chance he gets. Liberty doesn't have that problem as I learned last night. I think they appointed Tempest as the face of the group because if given the chance, Liberty would run her mouth and get them in trouble. It wouldn't surprise me to find out Tempest was a politician. He's masterful with the press, cracking jokes and flirting with the female reporters. Justice was the same, walking that fine line of serious yet likable. The other two don't seem to mind the spotlight on him. They hang in the back occasionally smiling before flying off side-by-side behind him. Several reporters speculated that Liberty and Nightingale are a couple, though the only proof are pictures of her quickly kissing or hugging him after a battle. There are none of her embracing Tempest, so who knows? I didn't get any of those vibes last night. If anything--

"Joanna?"

I snap out of my thoughts and see the board, all ten members, staring at me with their hands up. "What? Oh," I say, raising my hand for the vote.

"Good," Danforth says. I really hope we didn't just vote to close the free clinic or something. "Then onto the next item on the agenda. The opening of the Rebecca Thornton wing. Joanna?"

"Right," I say, pulling out my notes. "Um, construction was completed last week and the building inspector will be by next Wednesday to sign off. Beds, equipment, medical supplies, etc. is already being set up as I speak. The first of the families pre-selected have been notified and can move in on schedule barring unforeseen complications."

"The press have been calling about it," the Chief of Staff says, none too happy.

"Direct them to Gene Tully in the Pendergast press office," I say. "We still want to keep this thing as low-key as possible, right? Just a few members of the local media?"

"Yes," Danforth says. "I think this hospital has had more than its fair share of the limelight this year."

All eyes glance my way, but I remain impassive. "Good," I say. "Is that all for today? I need to go check on the movers."

"I believe that's it. Meeting adjourned."

Praise the Lord. I toss my notepad in my obscenely expensive Bherkin bag, my stylist and personal shopper Isolde insisted I needed--she was right, it fits everything--and hurry out before people attempt small talk. I loathe small talk. Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow Hospital was voted second best hospital in the country seven years in a row and is the third busiest. There are a thousand beds, thirty floors, and it's always bustling. She's Galilee's crowning glory next to the Falls across the river. The finest doctors use cutting-edge technology, new procedures, and new drugs inside these walls. The uber-gene was isolated here thirty-five years ago right on the ninth floor. Now its claim to fame is "The place Justice died." God, do I hate this place.

As I walk to the elevator, the same elevator where I was held at gunpoint by a psychopathic socialite, the staff eye me as I pass. I'm an international celebrity now, I had to get used to it. The pregnant woman in the wheelchair keeps glancing at me in the elevator apprehensively, as if my unluckiness can be spread like a virus. Got used to that too. She's wheeled off on the maternity floor.

I'm off on good old twenty-six. It's changed a lot since I first saw it almost a year ago while being pulled out of the elevator shaft by the murderous bastard supervillain Alkaline. I always get a chill when I step onto this floor, as if a part of him is still here. Guess he kind of is. We never would have built this place if not for him. If he hadn't raped and murdered Rebecca, Justin never would have thought to build it. Now families who either can't afford months in a hotel or just need to be around for their child, who is getting long term care at the hospital, have a place to stay. I've had crews working around the clock for a year to build this place. Money was no object. Gone is the storage space it once was, replaced with a high-tech dorm with twenty separate, two bedroom one-bath suites, communal living room and kitchen with a doctors and nurses station at the end. The parents can be with their kid 24/7, nurturing them through their illness. At least some good sprang from the whole ordeal.