Sensationalism—just to sell papers. But it worked. There were barely any copies left. Mal purchased one so he could read the full story as he and Lucy continued their walk, heading toward the electronics shop. Three thefts and one death, and already the city was terrified again. Danny carried the scars of what Thanatos had done more than most. Mal still couldn’t believe the boy he’d thought so untouchable and pure hadkilledand covered it up, living with his guilt for months, guilt Mal could admit he was partially to blame for. Still, the damage stretched throughout the city. Mal’s neighborhood had been left untouched, but from his streets he could see the power station and the empty spaces where buildings Thanatos had shredded with his shadows once stood.
He was grateful Thanatos had never made it as far as his neighborhood and its lookout over the rest of the city. His streets were meant to be safe and happy andhis. God help Ludgate if he ever dared to do anything to the people here, though the bastard better watch out regardless after the damage he’d caused.
Despite it nearing lunch now and Priestly likely being on break, Mal had an extra coffee and donut for him. The shop was a father and son place; it closed down for lunch every day from noon to one, so when Maland Lucy realized the time and found the front door locked, they headed in through the back. Lucy might have a key to Mal’s place, buthehad a key to almost every business in the neighborhood—by their own offering.
“Hart!” Mal called as they snuck in through the alley entrance between the main shop and the far back where Priestly stored his secret projects.
“Shit!” came a muffled reply before Mal and Lucy rounded the corner of a high shelf to find Priestly Hartigan lifted onto one of his worktables withArden Andrews Juniorbetween his legs. At least no one’s pants were off yet.
“Oh my,” Lucy said with complete unabashed pleasure at this discovery. “Arty Andrews, youdevil.”
Priestly groaned as he tried to hide the flush of his face behind Arty’s shoulder. The young shop keep’s hands were up Priestly’s sweater, and Arty’s flannel was unbuttoned as he turned his bearded face their direction.
“Notoneword,” Priestly said muted against Arty’s neck.
“Not even if that word is congrats?” Mal smirked.
Priestly groaned again.
Arty, for all his usual pleasant charm, looked none too pleased at the interruption, but he stretched his smile anyway, slid his hands out of Priestly’s shirt, and let them rest possessively at the kid’s hips. “Something we can help you with, Mr. Cho?”
After sharing a knowing glance with his sister, Mal had to shrug. “Sorry for the cold shower, Arty. Truly. Any other time I’d say we’ll come back later, but we’re in a bit of a crisis.” He took a few steps closer into the light of the room and pulled the hat from his head to better reveal his bruises and cuts. Arty instantly stepped out from between Priestly’s legs with a look of concern.
Priestly, still blushing colorfully, peeked over as he was left without his buffer and gaped when he saw Mal, previous embarrassment and irritation vanishing. “What the hell happened to you? Did something go wrong at the museum? I heard about the police but figured you got away clean.”
Jumping down from the table, he straightened his shirt, then his glasses, as his countenance shifted to being ‘on the job’. Arty grudgingly buttoned his shirt but held some sympathy for Mal’s face.
“Not exactly,” Mal said. “Guess you haven’t seen the papers yet. It’s a longer story than I care to get into right now, but there are a couple things you need to be aware of.”
Since the shop was closed for the next forty-five minutes, Arty stuck around. It was always his prerogative as shop owner to know the ins and outs of what Priestly was working on for Mal’s heists, but usually he preferred plausible deniability. This time he was concerned, though maybe more for Priestly’s involvement than his own. Leaning against the worktable, he listened in as Mal explained some of what had gone down at the museum last night, including the death of the guard after he left.
“So my goggles are where right now?” Priestly crossed his arms indignantly, having refused the coffee and donut Mal offered.
“Possibly with Zeus’s team.”
“And my comms?”
“Likely with the police.”
Priestly threw his hands down to his sides and leaned toward Mal threateningly—one of very few people who would dare. “Well let’s hope you’re wrong or all of us are screwed.”
With a flourish, he stormed across the room toward a computer desk against the far wall. Like the various worktables, the items covering the desk were all perfectly aligned as if they had every right to be sitting there.
Mal and the others followed. Although Mal couldn’t decipher much of Priestly’s coding as he brought up various surveillance and tracking programs, in the end, a map of Olympus City was displayed showing two distinct blinking lights—both at the downtown OCPD precinct.
Priestly’s lips pursed as he typed in additional commands. “The goggles appear to be in the basement, probably sitting in evidence. More concerning, however, is that the comms might already be in processing. They’re upstairs in one of the offices.”
Danny’s office, Mal assumed. Itwashis case. “Can you tell where it is in the room?”
“Thinking you can swipe it?”
“If necessary.”
“The tracker doesn’t work that specifically. Which room is as close as I can get.But…” Priestly glanced up at Mal over his shoulder and smirked, “I might be able to do us one better.”
A new image popped up on the screen, blue and distorted like a negative photo. Mal squinted to take it all in. It looked like some sort of cube.
“Are you 3D projecting its surroundings?” Lucy leaned forward, marveling at the display. Mal shot her an impressed raise of an eyebrow. She shrugged.
