“That depends where you want to go.” He spends another minute or so clicking on the screen, and suddenly the multilayered diagram disappears. In its place is one very detailed schematic, with every entrance, exit, window, and air duct clearly delineated.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Dante crows, clapping Jeremy on the back. I swear, I don’t know what it is about guys that makes them ready to beat each other’s brains out one minute and be best friends the next.
“We need to get to sub-level three,” I tell him.
“Ah, sub-level three: the holy grail of League supersecrecy.” He cracks his knuckles. “I’ve searched everywhere for blueprints, a diagram, anything that remotely confirms the secret sub-level exists.”
“Oh, it exists,” I reply.
He turns to me, eyes wide. “How do you know? Where did you get definitive proof?”
“I’ve been there. Is that enough proof?”
Without answering, Jeremy turns back to his computer and punches a few more keys, calling up a blank schematic in the general shape of the lab. “Tell me everything you can remember.”
“Do we really have time for this?” Rebel demands.
“If you want to get into a level so well-protected that there is absolutely no sign of its existence on the freaking Internet or League intranet, then yes, it’s necessary,” Jeremy all but shouts. “I need as many details as you can remember, and then…”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll check it against the new security protocols and try to extrapolate what measures they’re using to protect this level.”
“Extrapolate?” Draven barks. “You mean, you’re going to guess?”
Jeremy smiles at him over his laptop screen. “Pretty much.”
“My cousin’s life is on the line, and you’re going to make guesses about how to get him out?” Draven looks like he’s ready to kill something.
Not that I blame him. None of us knows how long Deacon can last.
Jeremy shrugs and reaches into his backpack for a bag of sour gummy worms. “Good thing for you I’m a good guesser,” he says as he pops a handful in his mouth.
Chapter 12
Rebel has absolutely no tolerance for listening to Jeremy spout a stream of nonstop computer tech-speak, interspersed with the occasional conspiracy theory. Neither do I. Which is why when she starts for the paved path that winds a circle through the park, I follow her.
Well, that and I’ve been waiting to get her alone.
“We need to talk,” I say as I catch up with her.
“Can you save the lecture for another night?”
“It’s not a lecture,” I tell her. “I just… I’m worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.” She twists her head, cracking her neck.
She doesn’t get it. She’s my best friend. I’m always worried about her.
“Reb, are you sure about Dante?” I ask after a second. “What if he’s just using you to gain access to the heroes? To get insider information they can use against us?”
Her spine stiffens. In that moment she looks exactly like her dad. “I’m sure.”
“It’s just…” I don’t know how to say this without totally setting her off. But it’s important, so I take my chances. “It seems really…convenient that the son of the villain leader is interested in the daughter of the president of the League.”
She lets out a sharp breath, and for the first time I can see the cracks in her strong fa?ade. The stress and strain are wearing on her. I don’t want to add to the burden, but I have to be sure.
“Dante doesn’t care about any of that,” she insists. “He loves me. Me,” she repeats. “Not what I can do for him, not who my father is, but me. Do you know how hard that is to find in the superhero world?”
“But how can you be sure?” I ask. “If heroes are really doing these horrible things—”
She cuts me off with a disbelieving glare. “If?”
“Okay, they are. But if they’ve been at this for decades like Draven says, don’t you think it’s possible that Dante looked at you and saw access, not a smart, cool girl he wanted to hang out with?”
She clenches her jaw and increases her speed. I have to double my pace to keep up.
God, I feel like an ass, but someone needs to look out for her. “I’m sorry, Reb, but you have to admit it’s a pretty big coincidence.”
“He didn’t know,” she blurts. “When we met, he had no idea I was even a super, let alone a hero.”
I want to believe her. Really, I do. I mean, Dante doesn’t seem like a bad guy, but he’s a villain. And villains always have an ulterior motive.
“You can’t know that,” I argue. “He could have—”
She stops abruptly, her blue eyes flashing. “I went after him, okay? I covered my hero mark and went to the Lair looking for someone who knew as well as I did that heroes were hypocrites. I didn’t want to be alone in this anymore. I’m the one who wanted access.”
“The Lair?” I echo.