Page 4 of Lovesick Gods (Lovesick #1)

“Still having trouble with the whole ‘only discuss illicit business in the back’ part of the job, Hart?” a new voice spoke just before Arty appeared from out of the curtain leading into the workshop.

He had auburn hair and scruff along his face and wore jeans and a flannel shirt that Priestly sneered at as if the fabric offended his senses.

“You know it’s two minutes to closing?” he complained to the man who was more his boss than Mal was.

“So I’m not late then,” Arty said.

“Not late is being fifteen minutes early .”

“That what they taught you in prep school?” Arty turned to Mal as he reached him, ignoring the affronted scoff Priestly offered, and extended his hand. “Mr. Cho, always a pleasure.”

Standing up straighter, Mal accepted the gesture.

Most of the business owners around the area didn’t bother, either because they knew him too well or not well enough to know where his boundaries lay, but Arty always initiated a handshake.

Even though Mal wasn’t much for unnecessary physical touch, he appreciated the man’s boldness.

Light leaning people tended to like the spotlight; optimistic, confident. Arty’s teal eyes positively glittered.

He was about the age of Mal’s sister, Lucy; around thirty, so a few years younger than Mal and a few years older than Priestly, not that Mal thought that would stop either of them if—

Glancing between the two as he shook Arty’s hand, he realized why his thoughts had headed that direction—the way Priestly looked away, biting his lip petulantly as he feigned working on the radio again, said enough.

They weren’t sleeping together, but the kid was interested.

Arty might be interested too, or just liked to tease Priestly as an easy target.

His jabs were never mean-spirited though, more congenial, playful.

Mal filed the information away for later. “Regretting your decision to hire my young protégé, Arty? Perhaps I shouldn’t have recommended him if he’s giving you so much trouble.”

“Nah, he’s better than slave labor with his perfectionism. Good thing I don’t pay overtime.”

“You do too,” Priestly grumbled. “Good thing I’m the one keeping all of your clients happy by actually getting things back to them in a timely manner and in better working order than you could ever manage.”

“He’s so modest too,” Arty grinned. He and Mal chuckled as Priestly muttered something in Russian.

The kid spoke at least five languages. Mal hadn’t yet admitted to him that he spoke most of the same ones, but he figured for now he could refrain from giving away that Priestly had just called Arty a beautiful idiot .

“Anything I can do for you today, Mr. Cho?” Arty asked.

“Thanks, Arty, but Priestly has me covered.”

With a deep sigh of exasperation, Priestly left the radio and moved out from behind the worktable to gesture Mal into the back. “Come on. You,” he pointed at Arty, “close the shop already. I am not going to be sorry if your dad decides to leave this place to me instead of you.”

“He’s threatened it enough times since you started working here,” Arty snickered, not at all perturbed by the sentiment. “Who am I to deny a better option? Maybe you’ll take pity on me and still let me work here.”

“Please, I’d kick your ass to the curb so fast, you’d have road rash.”

Arty just laughed louder as he headed for the door to flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and Priestly turned away in a huff.

Mal followed behind him with a barely contained grin. He liked Priestly. Kid had a lot of potential. Definitely deserved better than some 9-5 minimum wage paycheck and commission on the side for illegal business. Circumstance, bad luck, and scum for a father had led him here instead.

Just like Mal.

?

“A deal?” Mal repeated, eyeing the man across from him with more scrutiny. If he didn’t know this was Zeus in front of him, he’d worry about a wire. “Strapped for cash, Danny ? Didn’t take you for dirty, but I suppose the hero business doesn’t include dental, and I doubt the OCPD’s much better.”

Danny took a breath, resigned but unfazed by Mal’s mocking. His eyes were hypnotic this close, more so than any Lightning person Mal had ever met, now that he could actually see them instead of just the glowing lenses of the Zeus costume.

“We’ve been doing this dance for six months, Cho,” Danny said, “since the moment I got my powers. But you’ve never been my focus.

You’re…fun,” he glanced away with a twitch to his smile that drew Mal’s gaze to the curve of his lips.

“You’re a break. A relief. The real threat to this city is Thanatos, and it’s time someone put a stop to him once and for all. ”

Talk of Thanatos always put Mal off his lunch, and he pushed his plate into the middle of the table. The man had style but no finesse. He killed indiscriminately simply because he could. That wasn’t good business. Mal had been lucky so far that the Dark Elemental hadn’t crossed his threshold yet.

“So what’s the problem?” he asked. “Take care of him. Your no kill policy is cute and all, Sparky, but you can’t hold back with people like this.”

“You have a no kill policy too,” Danny frowned.

“I don’t mix bystanders up in my business, no. Bad form. But if you think my hands are squeaky clean, kid, don’t misunderstand me.”

“Kid? I’m not—”

“What are you asking for?” Mal sized him up, gauging his intentions and what he’d be willing to offer in exchange. “A team-up? Zeus and Prometheus side by side?”

Danny clenched his hands into fists. “The only other Elementals in this city are your Titans and other criminals. The government won’t send help for one city’s problem. They figure Zeus has it handled enough not to get involved.”

If Danny had been waiting for the government to step in all these months, then he was more na?ve than Mal thought.

“You’re lucky they leave you alone. Could send in a whole squadron to track you down and force you into submission.

They ever catch wind of your identity or you cause too much trouble, they still might. ”

“I don’t care .” Danny pounded a fist on the tabletop. “I can’t do this alone, Cho. The longer Thanatos is out there, the more people are going to get hurt. You’re the only person powerful enough that I can trust to have my back.”

Trust? Six months of playing footsie during bank and jewelry heists had this kid thinking Mal was soft. Just because he didn’t ice security guards or civilians didn’t mean he was a good guy.

Still, Danny’s desperation was understandable.

Thanatos hadn’t killed enough people to warrant government intervention, but he’d still killed and terrorized the city’s citizens, even used his shadows to disintegrate a few buildings.

Worst thing was he didn’t seem to have any overarching goal, just chaos for chaos’s sake, carnage for carnage, blood for blood. And every week he outdid himself.

Mal had heard about what happened to Danny’s partner. Zeus had appeared shortly after Detective Edwards’s death. Made sense that Danny and the local superhero were one in the same; he’d probably been triggered that night, one of the very rare adults Awakened by trauma.

Six months Thanatos had been terrorizing their city, but whenever he was lying low, Zeus didn’t follow suit. He kept his presence known by cleaning up the streets of lower level criminals, lesser Elementals, and, occasionally, Mal and his Titans.

If Thanatos kept escalating the stakes, if Zeus really was certain he couldn’t beat him, something would have to give. Mal didn’t like the thought of what the city would look like under Thanatos’s control.

Tapping his fingers along the table, he leaned forward to match Danny’s posture. “What exactly are you proposing?”

?

“First, for the gas.” Priestly got straight to business once they’d left the main shop, delving into the darkness of the back rooms, and then coming upon the much brighter lights that shone on the worktables.

He picked up what looked like a simple spray can.

“As easy as it looks. When you’re ready to use it, press here,” he held the top down and a puff of air escaped, “with about a five-foot range.” Next, he picked up a hose.

“Given the type of containment you described to me and the nozzle, this attachment and hose should work to transfer the gas into the canister. Need anything demonstrated for that part?”

Mal eyed the hose, then the can itself. “Looks self-explanatory to me.”

“Good.” Priestly set both items down again.

“You can take these with you when you go. I’ll get you a bag.

As for a power amplifier…” He scanned his eyes down Mal’s body, not quite appreciatively, though he didn’t shy from lingering on certain areas, and pursed his lips when he got to Mal’s hands.

“The current levels of your power are capable of inflicting everything from mild frostbite to pretty much instant death, but if you want another option for handling cops that get in your way—or wayward heroes in white leather,” he added with a faint smirk that Mal echoed, “you need something a bit more atmospheric. A projection of cold with yourself at the center, protected, while the rest of the room, however large we make the radius, plummets to below freezing. You said you wanted something non-lethal. That would do it.”

“And you can accomplish that for me? Unobtrusive accessory with simple controls?”

“I’m thinking…wrist cuff.” He glanced at Mal’s hands again. “Fashion can come after function, but you should be able to hide it with your sleeve when not in costume.”

“Perfect,” Mal nodded. “Dom was wondering if you could do something similar for her.”

Mal’s Titans consisted of him, his sister Lucy, Priestly, and Mal’s oldest friend, Dominique Drake. They’d had a fifth member once, but he chose a different path.

“Not a problem,” Priestly said. “Fire versus ice, but your abilities work on similar principles. Bring her in next time and I’ll outfit you both.”