I parked my convertible and strolled over to the metal door set into the far wall. The lights flickered, reminding H o t M a m a
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me that I had only thirty seconds left before the garage would be filled with a potent sleeping gas. I punched in 555, the security code, on the blinking keypad and stepped inside. The door whooshed shut and locked behind me, another layer of security. If someone ever stumbled into the garage from the outside, she wouldn’t be able to go any farther into the compound without the code. And once the gas took effect, we could transport her out of the garage without her ever being the wiser. At least, that was the theory. No one had ever breached our defenses before, except Carmen, and now Lulu.
I strode down the halls until I reached the double doors that led into the library. The others were gathered inside, costumes on. My father wore a green and white outfit with a flowing cape that transformed him into Mr. Sage, while Henry’s black-and-white uniform and matching goggles morphed him into Hermit. Lulu wore her usual getup of designer jeans and a Bulluci fleece pullover. The cobalt streaks in her hair gleamed under the flickering screen mounted on one wall. Blueprints winked on and off like a pair of bloodshot eyes blinking at me.
“Finally. We’ve been waiting almost an hour,” Hermit said.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “I came as fast as I could. I had to get rid of my date first, you know. I couldn’t just fire up and come running.”
“Was he a little too hot for you to handle, Fiona?” Lulu joked.
I glared at the computer hacker. Another heat-related pun. Ha, ha, ha, ha. One of these days I was going to show her just how hot under the collar I could get. My fingers curled into loose fists. Red-hot sparks landed on the Persian rug under my feet.
My father stomped them out and put a restraining hand 84
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on my arm. “Go get changed and meet us back in the garage. There’s no time to waste.”
Lulu zoomed out of the room, followed by Henry and my father. I jogged down to the equipment room, punched in the code, and went inside. I grabbed one of my many superhero suits hanging behind a pair of glass doors along one side of the room, and the rest of my gear from another compartment. While I shimmied into the spandex, I glanced at a rack of swords sitting in the middle of the room. I thought about taking them along, but decided against it. Weapons were Sam’s—Striker’s—thing. Not mine. My flames and fists were enough.
Fiera costume on, I retraced my route to the garage, stopping when I got to the kitchen. I glanced down the hall. Another minute wouldn’t hurt. Besides, I needed to keep up my strength in case I got to toast Siren and Intelligal tonight. It was hard to do my sacred superhero duty on an empty stomach. I grabbed three bags of chocolate chip cookies from one of the kitchen counters and continued on to the garage.