"Aphrodite's_Flame_024" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kenner _Julie_-_[Protector_04]_-_Aphrodite's_Flame_(V1.0)_[lit](multi-file html))

Chapter Twenty-one

Jason’s holographic image stood on Mordi’s holo-pager, his hands spread wide with agitation. “It was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. “Why would Dionys be excited about our father’s return to the fold? And what’s this B.S. about sitting at Zephron’s right hand? It’s a total cro—”
“One thing at a time,” Mordi said. He was in a small service hallway off the lobby. At the moment, the hall was completely deserted. “Did you talk to Romulus?”
“Out on bail.”
At that, Mordi took a step back. Apparently, his surprise showed on his face, because Jason’s image nodded.
“I know. Another oddity in a truly odd day.”
“But it makes some sense,” Mordi said. “Maybe he was the one planning something here tonight. But then he saw me and figured he shouldn’t press his luck, and that’s why nothing’s gone down yet.”
Jason nodded slowly. “Could be. Or maybe Isole Frost was the one planning something there tonight ... and you sidled in as her date and blew all her hard-made plans.”
Mordi scowled, not wanting to acknowledge the possibility, but knowing that he had to at least keep an open mind.
“Is anything happening there?” Jason asked.
Mordi had to assume that his half brother meant something other than the way his blood raced and his body stiffened when he was around Izzy. “Nothing,” he said. “Although I do have something I want you to check out.”
“Shoot.”
Mordi took a breath, thinking about his earlier suspicion that Hieronymous had invented some sort of control device. He couldn’t do it with the current Protector technology—at least, not using his powers directly—but maybe someone else could. “It’s probably nothing, but with Hieronymous being such an invention junkie, I thought it was worth checking out. During his speech, Harold Frost said that he—”
“Mordi!”
Izzy’s scream reverberated down the hall, and Mordi dove left just as a burly man smelling vaguely of cabbage plowed into him, sending him crashing to the ground. What the hell?
Mordi didn’t bother trying to analyze the situation, he was too intent on getting the gorilla off him. He reared back with his fist and landed a powerful punch right in the man’s face.
Nothing.
Just... squish.
A Henchman.
Henchmen. The vile creatures vaguely resembled squid in their natural form, but they could assume other shapes at will. Unlike Mordi, though, the shapeshift was essentially an illusion, so that when you actually fought a Henchman, it was like fighting a tub of slime. Score one for this Henchman.
The beasts were preternaturally strong, too, even stronger than most Protectors. Score another point for the hellish creatures.
They were not, however, very bright. And it was there that a Protector’s advantage really lay. At the moment, though, Mordi wasn’t thinking. He was reacting. He whipped his leg out, prepared for it to hit a wall of Jello rather than flesh, and was absurdly satisfied with the thick slurp as his leg impacted his attacker.
The creature tumbled backward, and Mordi climbed to his feet, already summoning his power. The thug was back up, though, and Mordi wasn’t ready. It lunged forward.
Mordi lashed out, hoping he had managed to gather some fire, but it didn’t matter. Before he could even attempt to engulf the creature in flames, the Henchman froze.
Literally.
Icicles hung from the creature’s nose, and his illusory pasty skin took on a bluish tint. Mordi blinked, then reached out and poked the thing. Hard as a brick... and cold as ice.
Mordi spun, searching for his savior, and found himself face-to-face with Izzy. Her already pale skin was even paler, and she was breathing hard. Her perfectly coiffed hair had come loose and now fell in waves around her shoulders. She smiled weakly, then lifted one shoulder.
“Just trying to help,” she said.
He met her grin. “Nice skill you have there.”
“It comes in handy when you’re thirsty and forgot to fill the ice trays.” She glanced at the Henchman. “We should move him. The ceremony will be over soon. People might come back here.”
“Right.” Mordi bent to retrieve his fallen holo-pager, saw that it was broken, and sighed. He’d have to use a real telephone to finish his conversation with Jason. What a pain.
“I’ve got some cuffs,” he said. He pulled them out of his jacket, and tossed them to her.
She held the golden binder cuffs out, her forehead furrowed. “If I move his arms like that, he’s going to crack. I’m not a field op, so I haven’t memorized the regulations, but I’m pretty sure that freezing people and then breaking them is a no-no.”
“True enough,” Mordi said. “But he’s not a person. He’s a Henchman.”
She drew in a breath and her eyes went wide, and Mordi was absolutely certain that she was as surprised to hear the news as he was to be attacked. If Izzy was involved with anything bad, it wasn’t tied to this Henchman.
“But... but...”
“My father,” he said simply.
A flicker of concern flashed in her eyes, but it was gone before Mordi could be certain. “Hieronymous isn’t the only Outcast that uses Henchmen,” she said. The Henchmen lived in the catacombs, were the embodiment of all the scary monsters and creepy crawlies that hid under beds and in dark closets. And because they did the bidding of whoever released them, some of the bolder Outcasts had taken to surreptitiously acquiring one or two as pets.
“This is his work,” Mordi said.
Again, Izzy shook her head. “No. He’s not here. And I felt someone else. Someone who wanted to hurt you.”
Mordi waved a hand toward the Henchman. “Duh.”
“No, someone else.”
He frowned. “What are you saying, Izzy?”
“I can’t pick up on Henchman thoughts. That’s impossible. But I knew something was happening. That’s why I ran out here. To warn you.” Her lips pressed together in a thin line as her eyes widened. “Mordi,” she finally said, “there’s still someone here. Someone who wants to hurt you.”
Mordi considered what Izzy said. Someone else? Clyde, perhaps. Or perhaps a compatriot of one of the thirteen traitorous Protectors he’d so far locked away. Or Romulus, who was out on bail and probably pissed. Both Mordi’s past and his present were dangerous. And here he was, unwittingly dragging Izzy into the danger zone—if she hadn’t already gotten there all by herself.
He focused again on her. She was frowning at the Henchman, concern etched on her face.
Was it really concern? Or was it all an act? He didn’t like it, but he still couldn’t entirely discount the possibility that there was no other attacker and that Izzy was simply trying to cover her own tracks.
The possibility disturbed him, and he pushed it away, mentally filing it in a to-deal-with-later pile. Right now, he had to get this Henchman in the stockade.
Inside the auditorium, applause crescendoed. They were running out of time. “Call in a retrieval team,” he said. “And be ready.”
While Izzy watched, binder cuffs at the ready, he gathered his power, took aim and—quite literally— fired. The Henchman defrosted, first blinking, then writhing about, bellowing at the top of his quite massive lungs. By that time, however, Izzy had snapped the cuffs on him and jumped back. She looked at Mordi, her eyes wide, and mouthed one word—“Fire.”
He nodded. “Ice,” he said, his gaze fixed on hers. And he didn’t have to say aloud that the two simply didn’t mix.

Chapter Twenty-one

Jason’s holographic image stood on Mordi’s holo-pager, his hands spread wide with agitation. “It was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. “Why would Dionys be excited about our father’s return to the fold? And what’s this B.S. about sitting at Zephron’s right hand? It’s a total cro—”
“One thing at a time,” Mordi said. He was in a small service hallway off the lobby. At the moment, the hall was completely deserted. “Did you talk to Romulus?”
“Out on bail.”
At that, Mordi took a step back. Apparently, his surprise showed on his face, because Jason’s image nodded.
“I know. Another oddity in a truly odd day.”
“But it makes some sense,” Mordi said. “Maybe he was the one planning something here tonight. But then he saw me and figured he shouldn’t press his luck, and that’s why nothing’s gone down yet.”
Jason nodded slowly. “Could be. Or maybe Isole Frost was the one planning something there tonight ... and you sidled in as her date and blew all her hard-made plans.”
Mordi scowled, not wanting to acknowledge the possibility, but knowing that he had to at least keep an open mind.
“Is anything happening there?” Jason asked.
Mordi had to assume that his half brother meant something other than the way his blood raced and his body stiffened when he was around Izzy. “Nothing,” he said. “Although I do have something I want you to check out.”
“Shoot.”
Mordi took a breath, thinking about his earlier suspicion that Hieronymous had invented some sort of control device. He couldn’t do it with the current Protector technology—at least, not using his powers directly—but maybe someone else could. “It’s probably nothing, but with Hieronymous being such an invention junkie, I thought it was worth checking out. During his speech, Harold Frost said that he—”
“Mordi!”
Izzy’s scream reverberated down the hall, and Mordi dove left just as a burly man smelling vaguely of cabbage plowed into him, sending him crashing to the ground. What the hell?
Mordi didn’t bother trying to analyze the situation, he was too intent on getting the gorilla off him. He reared back with his fist and landed a powerful punch right in the man’s face.
Nothing.
Just... squish.
A Henchman.
Henchmen. The vile creatures vaguely resembled squid in their natural form, but they could assume other shapes at will. Unlike Mordi, though, the shapeshift was essentially an illusion, so that when you actually fought a Henchman, it was like fighting a tub of slime. Score one for this Henchman.
The beasts were preternaturally strong, too, even stronger than most Protectors. Score another point for the hellish creatures.
They were not, however, very bright. And it was there that a Protector’s advantage really lay. At the moment, though, Mordi wasn’t thinking. He was reacting. He whipped his leg out, prepared for it to hit a wall of Jello rather than flesh, and was absurdly satisfied with the thick slurp as his leg impacted his attacker.
The creature tumbled backward, and Mordi climbed to his feet, already summoning his power. The thug was back up, though, and Mordi wasn’t ready. It lunged forward.
Mordi lashed out, hoping he had managed to gather some fire, but it didn’t matter. Before he could even attempt to engulf the creature in flames, the Henchman froze.
Literally.
Icicles hung from the creature’s nose, and his illusory pasty skin took on a bluish tint. Mordi blinked, then reached out and poked the thing. Hard as a brick... and cold as ice.
Mordi spun, searching for his savior, and found himself face-to-face with Izzy. Her already pale skin was even paler, and she was breathing hard. Her perfectly coiffed hair had come loose and now fell in waves around her shoulders. She smiled weakly, then lifted one shoulder.
“Just trying to help,” she said.
He met her grin. “Nice skill you have there.”
“It comes in handy when you’re thirsty and forgot to fill the ice trays.” She glanced at the Henchman. “We should move him. The ceremony will be over soon. People might come back here.”
“Right.” Mordi bent to retrieve his fallen holo-pager, saw that it was broken, and sighed. He’d have to use a real telephone to finish his conversation with Jason. What a pain.
“I’ve got some cuffs,” he said. He pulled them out of his jacket, and tossed them to her.
She held the golden binder cuffs out, her forehead furrowed. “If I move his arms like that, he’s going to crack. I’m not a field op, so I haven’t memorized the regulations, but I’m pretty sure that freezing people and then breaking them is a no-no.”
“True enough,” Mordi said. “But he’s not a person. He’s a Henchman.”
She drew in a breath and her eyes went wide, and Mordi was absolutely certain that she was as surprised to hear the news as he was to be attacked. If Izzy was involved with anything bad, it wasn’t tied to this Henchman.
“But... but...”
“My father,” he said simply.
A flicker of concern flashed in her eyes, but it was gone before Mordi could be certain. “Hieronymous isn’t the only Outcast that uses Henchmen,” she said. The Henchmen lived in the catacombs, were the embodiment of all the scary monsters and creepy crawlies that hid under beds and in dark closets. And because they did the bidding of whoever released them, some of the bolder Outcasts had taken to surreptitiously acquiring one or two as pets.
“This is his work,” Mordi said.
Again, Izzy shook her head. “No. He’s not here. And I felt someone else. Someone who wanted to hurt you.”
Mordi waved a hand toward the Henchman. “Duh.”
“No, someone else.”
He frowned. “What are you saying, Izzy?”
“I can’t pick up on Henchman thoughts. That’s impossible. But I knew something was happening. That’s why I ran out here. To warn you.” Her lips pressed together in a thin line as her eyes widened. “Mordi,” she finally said, “there’s still someone here. Someone who wants to hurt you.”
Mordi considered what Izzy said. Someone else? Clyde, perhaps. Or perhaps a compatriot of one of the thirteen traitorous Protectors he’d so far locked away. Or Romulus, who was out on bail and probably pissed. Both Mordi’s past and his present were dangerous. And here he was, unwittingly dragging Izzy into the danger zone—if she hadn’t already gotten there all by herself.
He focused again on her. She was frowning at the Henchman, concern etched on her face.
Was it really concern? Or was it all an act? He didn’t like it, but he still couldn’t entirely discount the possibility that there was no other attacker and that Izzy was simply trying to cover her own tracks.
The possibility disturbed him, and he pushed it away, mentally filing it in a to-deal-with-later pile. Right now, he had to get this Henchman in the stockade.
Inside the auditorium, applause crescendoed. They were running out of time. “Call in a retrieval team,” he said. “And be ready.”
While Izzy watched, binder cuffs at the ready, he gathered his power, took aim and—quite literally— fired. The Henchman defrosted, first blinking, then writhing about, bellowing at the top of his quite massive lungs. By that time, however, Izzy had snapped the cuffs on him and jumped back. She looked at Mordi, her eyes wide, and mouthed one word—“Fire.”
He nodded. “Ice,” he said, his gaze fixed on hers. And he didn’t have to say aloud that the two simply didn’t mix.