Page 17 of Lovesick Titan

The smile dropped from Mal’s lips as well as he waited for Danny to continue.

“He killed mymom,” Danny said, bright golden eyes looking up at Mal, sending a chill through him and prickling his arms with goosebumps. “She was there. In the power station. He took her and put her there to torture me. He…” His voice caught and he shook his head like he didn’t know how to say more.

Mal had known about the death of Danny’s partner, but he hadn’t thought to keep up to date onDetectiveDanny Grant when his focus had always been on Zeus. His mother…

“That’s when I lost it. That’swhyI lost it. He’d already killed Rick, so many other people, so many people that night, but Mom…she was chosen because of me. I couldn’t save her. Dad says he doesn’t blame me, but sometimes I feel like he has to. Like he hates me. And I know that’sstupid, can’t even remotely compare to you having Icebox as a father—”

“Danny,” Mal cut him off, because he couldn’t take one more minute of Danny being so good to him when all the kid’s grief was Mal’s fault. “My father didn’t hate me. Didn’t think he did. That was the worst part. In his mind, he was doing me a favor. Teaching melessons.” He took a breath and watched the way Danny’s hand moved with the motion. “The hardest hits, stitches, broken bones, none of it compared to him still acting like he loved us when it was over. Your father’s not like that. He doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t blame you, he couldn’t. And you shouldn’t blame yourself either. You should blame me.”

The fresh grief that marred Danny’s face was too potent for Mal to look at. He kept his eyes on Danny’s hand resting against his scar.

“I’m sorry she died because I wasn’t there.”

“Mal…”

“And it’s time you learned why,” he pushed on, refusing to be silenced. “I was on my way to meet you. Iwascoming to help. When Oz Percy knocked on my door.”

R

Mal was already suited up, ready for battle. Lucy had passed him the message Danny left at Haven, insisting she get to come along, which Mal was having none of and trying to convince her to stay behind. He would have blown Oz off when he answered the man’s knock, despite him being a former member of the Titans as Hermes, if he hadn’t looked so desperate, with a woman Mal had never met tucked against his side and a little boy clinging to her legs.

“I need your help.”

There wasn’t time. Danny would be facing Thanatos in minutes at the power station. Mal had to be there—but he couldn’t turn Oz away. He couldn’t turn Carla and Michael away after hearing their story.

Why did it have to betonight? Why did it have to pour when it rained just like the idiom said? Mal thought he could do both, that he could get the family to safety and still make it to the station. He called in Dom to meet them at the shelter. If Lucy insisted on helping with Thanatos, maybe he could convince her to stay with Oz instead and watch over the family while Mal took Dom to the station. Divide and conquer; they were good at that. But when they reached the shelter, Dunkirk was waiting.

Using Oz’s teleportation powers would just mean more running. Carla couldn’t keep doing that. She was newly pregnant; she couldn’t handle the strain. They needed to make a stand, but Mal couldn’t risk taking Dunkirk’s life. It would bring too much heat on the neighborhood, from the cops and the Irish.

“The only thing keeping me from turning you into crumpled snow right now is the extra bodies your father would create avenging you,” Mal said, keeping Oz behind him, who held Carla and Michael close, and letting Lucy spread out to his right as Dom approached from down the street. “But that only saves you for so long. Back off. And you get to walk away.”

Armed with a simple knife and gun, neither of which he’d drawn, Dunkirk stared Mal down without an ounce of fear toward the powerhouses surrounding him. He knew Mal wouldn’t risk a war with one of the families.

“You might pack a stronger punch than your dead daddy,” Dunkirk spat, “might even think you have more sway, but you’re still the same trash he was. You don’t own these streets, Cho. You don’t own thatbitchbehind you either. She’s mine.”

Mal’s father had treated his mother the same way. And Lucy’s. That’s why neither of their mothers was alive.

Hands icing into frosted fists, Mal squared off against Dunkirk in front of the shelter doors. “You don’t own anyone. Not her. Not the boy. Not the baby. And certainly not me. Now backoff.”

Dunkirk pressed his luck and leaned closer. “Make me.”

The man had come here in a fit of fury and had a superiority complex Mal loathed. Still, he needed Dunkirk to leave of his own accord so he could get Carla and Michael inside without incident. Nobody breached those walls. No one who knew this neighborhood, who knew Mal’s history, would ever dare.

So he waited.

Finally, Dunkirk huffed and leaned back. He glanced behind him at Dom, whose fingertips were ignited, then at Lucy, who had vines coiled around all four of her limbs just waiting to lash out, and finally, at Oz behind Mal.

“He put you up to this? Thatfreakshe’s fucking?” Dunkirk bit out. “All you freaks stick together, that it? Or are you fucking him too?”

Mal’s fist flew faster than his senses. It was still ice and it cracked Dunkirk’s nose with a distinctive crunch. Broken—pulverized. Dunkirk Senior had started wars for less, but Mal hoped he’d get a pass for a few broken bones given the carnage he could actually inflict.

Dunkirk staggered back, cursing and spitting blood. He nearly ran into Dom, who had no trouble reminding him that she was there with a flare of her flames. “I’m not gonna forget this!” he coughed and choked as he held his face, stumbling away from the shelter and out into the street. He made it to a motorcycle that he took off on like he had every intention of coming back. Mal knew he likely would, but at least Carla and Michael would be inside by then. He’d have to think of other ways to keep them safe in the coming months.

“Michael!” Carla’s voice rang out, and Mal spun, afraid he’d missed an accomplice, but Michael had merely escaped his mother’s clutches so he could throw himself at Mal’s legs. He hugged Mal as tightly as two tiny arms could.

“Thank you,” the little boy said, hiding his face inside Mal’s duster.

Lucy cast them an amused smile. Giving into the unexpected gesture, Mal patted Michael’s back. As Carla and Oz came closer, he looked up to meet the woman’s eyes.

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