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Authors: A. J. MENDEN

PHENOMENAL GIRL 5 (19 page)

BOOK: PHENOMENAL GIRL 5
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The noise and insanity at the police station was almost comforting. It was normal, everyday behavior, at a time when my life was turned upside down.

I gave my name to the officer at the desk, who called back to Pendergast. The nearby television was turned to a news conference, where none other than Simon Leasure was holding court over a bevy of reporters, letting them know how great a job he’d done and how he, single-handedly, had saved the day. God, had our date only been last night? It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Miss Livingston?” Pendergast walked up, looking around. “Where’s your partner?”

“Can we go somewhere private?”

He nodded. “This way.”

Pendergast looked worried as we sat in one of the interview rooms. “Has something happened?”

I nodded, looking down at my hands. “Robert was killed last night.”

His face turned white. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry, I hadn’t heard.”

I shook my head. “No one has. I don’t even think the EHJ knows.” I broke off, tears coming. “Damn, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He handed me a tissue. “I know how hard it is, losing a partner. Mine was killed in the line of duty last year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I’d heard the Reincarnist took down that Jihad character.”

“Yeah. One of the last things he did.”

“One of the guys we had stored here last night was pretty irate about it. He’s the one I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Alright.”

Pendergast clicked on the computer and scrolled through some black and white images. “Here is the footage from him last night.”

The footage started and I saw a burly man with a military buzz cut slumped in a chair.

“State your name, please.” That was Pendergast.

“Talon.”

“Your real name, not your alias.”

“That is my real name. It was the name he gave me on the day I was reborn.”

“He?”

“My master. I joined with him, and I was baptized in fire and blood.” Talon’s smile was sinister. “Have you ever smelled human flesh burning?” He moved his arm and I gasped.

Pendergast eyed me. “What?”

“Go back. Now pause it.” He did, and I tapped the screen where Talon had flashed a glimpse of his wrist. “He has the same marking that Syn and Jihad had.”

Pendergast looked. “I can’t believe I missed that.”

“You weren’t looking for it.” Things were beginning to connect. “Go on.”

“You want to tell us what you all were doing to night?” Pendergast was asking on the recording.

Talon smiled. “Creating chaos, obviously. It’s not as easy as it looks. You need just the right amount. Go too far, and it spins out of your control.”

“I thought chaos was all about no control.”

“There are some who can harness it.”

“What were you using it for?”

“Something that is beyond your fragile human mind.”

“Try me.”

“It was just a component of something bigger.” He sat back, arms across his chest, looking satisfied. “The Master will be pleased with our work.”

“So you were all working together?”

“Not all of us. We hired some of the villain persuasion to help distract the heroes so we could go about our business.”

“Who’s we? You and this Master?”

“The Master himself cannot get involved yet. He is not ready. He is not prepared. My brothers and I go ahead of him.” He seemed to fix his gaze on Pendergast.

“Was Jihad one of your brothers? Because I’d say he failed miserably.”

“No, he did his part. The Old One cannot stop our Master, no matter how many of his servants he kills. Where one falls, another will spring up.”

“Who is the Old One?”

“You know him as the Reincarnist. One day, my Master will bathe in his blood.”

“Like he did Jihad’s?”

Talon’s face fell into a scowl. “The Old One should stay out of our business. He has problems in his own backyard. After all”—he smiled again—“it was one of his little capes that helped kick off our night of chaos.”

I drew in a harsh breath as I remembered Jihad’s words right before I died. Pendergast shut off the footage.

“This is the second time one of them has mentioned a traitor in our midst,” I admitted.

“I know nothing about the inner workings of the Elite Hands of Justice,” Pendergast said. “You and your late partner are the only two members I have ever met, and I trust you. But you need to watch your back.”

I nodded. “Thank you for this, Pendergast.”

“No problem. Please let me know if I can do anything, Miss Livingston.”

And with a new reminder that someone was selling us out, I went on my way.

“Did you get everything taken care of with the police?” Wesley greeted me as soon as I walked in the door. He had a tumbler of scotch in one hand.

“Yeah. It wasn’t much that we didn’t already know, but it tied some loose ends together.”

“You can tell me about it later. Write it down if you need to so you won’t forget the details.” He looked as if his mind was already occupied.

“You want me to write you a report?”

“Yes. If you could, that’d be perfect.” He took a drink from the glass.

I eyed the drink. “A little early to be hitting the hard stuff, isn’t it?”

“You try having half-memories of an eternal life keep popping up at random times and see how you feel,” he snapped.

I glared at him. “Is basic manners one of things you forgot? Don’t worry about the police or our case. I’m taking care of it.” I turned and stormed upstairs.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The next few days passed in a haze. I tried to avoid Wesley as much as possible and still do my job. Mayhew’s disapproving gaze followed me wherever I went, but he kept quiet. I practiced magic on my own, ate meals alone, and even patrolled on my own, leaving when I knew Wesley was eating so I could give him a report of the sectors I’d covered later. For some reason, the criminal element had been quiet. Maybe after watching the big-timers get thrown down, they’d gotten scared.

Or maybe my heart just wasn’t in fighting the good fight anymore.

I wasn’t eating or sleeping much. Within days I had lost weight and had huge dark circles under my eyes. I was depressed and it was showing.

The day of the memorial dawned with a cold, gray light that fit my mood. I knew I had to attend and act like I was mourning my dead boss and not my lover. I hoped to slip away quietly and not stay through the whole ordeal. Through some quirk of fate, I had become more like Robert than Wesley was: I was the one who wanted to hide from social events.

A knock sounded on my door.

“What?” I asked, not bothering to get out of bed.

Mayhew poked his head in. “Mister Charles wants to know if you’re coming down to breakfast.”

“No.” I rolled onto my side to face the wall. “I’ll be there for the memorial.”

“He wants to speak to you about the memorial.”

I sighed. “I have the day off, remember? I don’t have to do what he says today.”

“You are destroying yourself for no reason.”

“No reason?” I sat up and narrowed my eyes into little slits. “I think I have a damn good reason, Mayhew, so butt out. Most people are allowed to grieve for their loss and aren’t told to act as if nothing happened.”

“You’re right, something has happened. To someone other than you, if you would care to get out of that hole you’re wallowing in and notice. Someone is now adrift, completely lost in his life and confused as hell. And the one person who should be helping him, both on a personal and professional level, is instead avoiding him like the plague when she doesn’t snap at him like a moody teenager.”

I winced at the accusation, but wasn’t ready to back down. “Like Wesley cares. He doesn’t even know me.”

“Just keep in mind who you’re hurting, Lainey. Remember exactly who it is that you are treating so coldly.” With that parting shot, he shut the door.

I threw a pillow at the door, swearing, hurting at the truth of his comments. How could he understand what I was going through? He didn’t know how painful this was, looking at the ghost of Robert every day.

A steel determination set in. I was going to make it through today. And then I was going to take it one day at a time after that. I owed it to myself; I had worked too hard on my career to throw it all away over a guy. I was going to set my tunnel-vision sights on becoming a full member of the Elite Hands of Justice and getting the hell away from Wesley. And I was never letting anyone back into my heart. Robert was right—romance was distracting, and now I knew it could destroy you, too.

I got up and slid on my dress for the memorial. I was sure
it was going to raise a few eyebrows, but I didn’t care. I was dressing for Robert, the last person that I would ever love, and he would have liked the burgundy color. I could almost hear him joking about not wearing black.

Taking a deep breath, I went downstairs.

Wesley glanced up when I walked into the breakfast nook, and then he stared, fork frozen in front of him.

I gave him a cool look, took my seat, and reached for the coffeepot, which held my usual breakfast as of late. And lunch. And dinner.

Mayhew set a plate down. I shook my head. “Not hungry.”

“Eat and be quiet.”

Wesley stared at him in surprise and I shot Mayhew a nasty look. He still looked as impassive as ever.

I picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. “There. Happy?”

He looked satisfied and went away. I chewed on the toast and sipped my coffee, finding that I did have a bit of an appetite if I forced myself to eat.

Wesley cleared his throat. “You look very nice.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s an interesting choice for a memorial service.”

“Robert would have liked it.”

“The color suits you. And I think it’s nice you wore color. I understand funerals are the living’s way to mourn the dead, but it should also be about celebrating the life that has passed. All that stiff black clothing is not a celebration. We’re both defying convention.”

My gaze shot to him at that comment, and I noticed he was wearing a gray suit with a dark blue pinstripe and matching shirt. He did look nice.

My eyes flicked up to meet his dark blue ones, and I knew he was noticing me noticing him. I looked away, severing the connection.

“Lainey, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier this
week,” he said. “I was rude. The first few days I’m back after reincarnating, I’m rubbish to be around, I’m afraid. My mind’s trying to sort things out and it’s distracting and painful. Especially since it seems like I get to keep detailed memories of those things I’d rather forget, and I lose happier things. But I’m doing much better now, and though my memory of the case we’ve been working on is vague at best, the diary is helping, and I’m sure you can help me fill in other blanks. We can get back to work as soon as you feel comfortable doing so.”

“Alright.”
This is for your career
was back to being my mantra. “Mayhew said you wanted to talk to me about the memorial.”

“Yes. I know we’re supposed to circulate, but can you stay with me? I won’t know anyone…”

That’s for damn sure
. “You want me to introduce you to people?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll introduce you to the ones I know.”
And I’m ditching you at the first available minute.

“Thank you, Lainey.”

“It’s my job.” I got up and left before he could say anything else.

The mourners were circulating in the garden, nibbling on finger foods and speaking in hushed tones. Wesley and I stood out as the only ones not in head-to-toe black. I might have felt awkward, but I was beyond caring what those people thought. Let them think I was some oblivious employee not showing my boss proper respect.

“Miss Livingston,” Detective Pendergast greeted me.

I hugged him. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. It’s such a damn shame about what happened. He was a good man.”

“Yes. He will be greatly missed.” I could feel the tension radiating off of Wesley.

“By a lot of us down at the department as well.” Pendergast looked at Wesley. “Is this your boyfriend?”

“No!” I winced at how shrill that came out. “This is my new partner. Wesley Charles, Detective Pendergast. Robert and I turned over many a criminal to his care.”

Wesley shook his hand. “A pleasure to see you, sir. I’m sure once I get my bearings, we’ll be out trying to make your job easier again.”

“Good to meet you. I’m sure you’ll do fine work. Do you have one of those fancy aliases you people go by?”

“He’s the Reincarnist,” I said before Wesley could.

Pendergast gave me a strange look. “They like to use the same names over again?”

Either Robert’s habit of staying out of the limelight was causing the confusion, or his powers were not well understood by the public. Or Pendergast was behind on his celebrity hero gossip. Either way, I rolled with it. “Well, I am Phenomenal Girl
Five
.” I caught Wesley giving me an outraged look out of the corner of my eye. I ignored it and smiled at Pendergast. “It makes you a little concerned about the turnover rate that they’ve recycled my name five times?”

“It’s not exactly the same,” Wesley began.

“Well, welcome to the city,” Pendergast said to him. “I have to get back to work, Lainey, but I wanted to stop by.”

“Thank you so much for coming, Detective,” I said. “I’m sure it would have meant a lot to Robert.”

“I
know
it would have,” Wesley said, and then as soon as he left, turned to me. “Why did you say that?”

“What?”

“Let him think I’m just some guy that happens to have the same alias?”

“Do you want to explain it to a civilian? Because it makes my head hurt.”

Wesley might have said something else, but we were blindsided by the arrival of Victoria Dupree.

She was draped in an elegant black dress, complete with
black hat and veil. A veil, for God’s sake! As soon as she walked in, she began loudly sobbing, dabbing her eyes with a prim white handkerchief.

I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands into fists at my sides, trying to rein in the impulse to punch her.

BOOK: PHENOMENAL GIRL 5
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