It amazed Lois what lengths some guys would go to just to get a peek at a girl's diary. Both Lionel and the auctioneer had offered some vague explanation about an expedition, which completely failed to justify the scene unfolding in front of her.
The bidding had opened at two thousand dollars. Someone near the front put a bid forth immediately. Mrs Kent's face was a mask of bewilderment, while Lionel's eyes glinted with humour. The auctioneer, startled, almost dropped the book from his hands. It wasn't all that big; it could almost have fit in your pocket. Lois noticed the front cover, although not old, was worn and a significant tear ran down the front.
"Is it really worth that much?" asked Martha.
"I'm no expert," said Lionel. "But in my opinion, it is essentially worth nothing."
Except Lois thought that was a lie. She certainly had no idea why it might be worth so much, but Lionel was undeniably interested in it. He'd so far bid on two items (successfully, of course) and she'd known instinctively he'd done that simply because he could. So far he hadn't put a bid in, but Lois was certain that it was the journal he was here for. So why did he care about a woman's journal written six years ago?
"Ten thousand," said Lex casually. Lois blinked – the last bid had been for only six thousand. Two other bidders shook their heads at the auctioneer. Lionel turned his head towards Bruce Wayne, who was whispering in his date's ear. He looked completely oblivious to everything that was going on.
"Are we all done at ten thousand?" asked the auctioneer, sounding surprised bidding hadn't ended several thousand earlier.
"Fifteen thousand," declared a young woman, giggling as everyone turned to look at her. Lex looked bewildered, before narrowing his eyes as he saw Bruce Wayne's companion had placed the bid. On Bruce's behalf, Lois knew. The girl looked like she belonged here about as much as she did. It didn't take Lex long to recover; in fact he looked like he relished the challenge.
"Twenty-five thousand."
Martha looked to Lionel, who wasn't about to offer an explanation. Lois wondered how much money Lex was prepared to pss away here.
All eyes in the room were now switching between Lex's table and Bruce's, almost as though following a ball in a tennis match. Lost as they were in the battle of the billionaire's, most people didn't notice the double doors leading into the room opening.
They did, however, hear the gunshot. It took Lois a moment to realise that the bullet had been fired into the air; no-one was actually hurt. At least not yet. Beside her, Martha was looking shocked, while Lionel merely looked grim. Three men, clad entirely in black with balaclavas over their heads strode in, spreading out immediately. All of them were equipped with handguns. Around her, Lois could see several people ducking under their tables.
"I'm not sure 'what you don't know can't hurt you' can be applied to this situation," she whispered to Mrs Kent. She noticed Martha looking at someone with concern, and turned to take a look herself. If she'd thought Lex crazy for bidding twenty-five thousand dollars for a few words that had been strung together, he was acting crazier now. He was standing up.
"Whatever you're being paid, I can –"
Lois recoiled at the deafening sound of the gun being fired echoed through the room. Lionel's eyes widened with shock. For that matter, so did Lex's. Blood flowed from his arm where he'd been shot and he slumped back in his chair. He used his free hand to apply pressure to the wound, swearing as he grimaced with pain.
"Now that I have your attention," declared the shooter, walking past Lex as if he didn't exist. He gestured to the man on stage. "Throw me the book."
The little man gave a nervous look at someone in the crowd. He hesitated until a warning shot whistled past his ears. Part of the wall exploded behind him. Cringing, legs trembling (Lois could see a damp patch forming around the crotch of his pants) he picked up the book and threw it at the shooter.
The thief managed to make the catch look easy, even with one hand. She supposed it had been too much to hope he'd try to clap his hands together and accidentally shoot himself in the foot or something.
"He needs help," shrieked Lex's female companion, while the two other men at the table fidgeted in their seats. They looked more embarrassed than anything else. Not members of his security team, clearly.
One of the men strode past their table. Lois knew she could have taken him but resisted the urge to strike. The other two would shoot her before she could do anything else useful. She didn't know about the other, but the one who shot Lex knew how to handle a gun. He'd shot very deliberately to wound Lex, not kill him. And once they started shooting, it might not be easy for them to stop. Mrs Kent placed a hand on hers; she wasn't sure if it was meant to reassure her or an indication that she shouldn't try to be a hero.
"Let's go," said the man with the book clasped to his chest. What the hell was it about that thing? People were treating it like a first edition Harry Potter or something. It was absolutely crazy.
The trio of thieves reunited at the doorway, checking the crowd to see if anyone looked likely to follow. The leader grabbed a woman who'd had the misfortune of sitting near the back and put his gun against her head.
"Anyone follows, the girl dies," he declared.
"No!" shouted Lex, who's blood had ruined his tablecloth. His date was helping him apply pressure to the wound. The gentleman to his left was gazing off into the distance like he was having a particularly pleasant daydream.
The thieves didn't look about to take orders from Lex. Whirling his hostage around as though dancing with her, the leader hurried from the building with his accomplices. The doors were slammed shut behind them.
"I'll call an ambulance," someone declared as people began to crawl out from under their tables, apparently having found the money they'd dropped. Lois heard a chair scraping across the floor as Lionel hurried over to attend to his son. Martha followed, staying a comfortable distance away so as not to crowd Lex.
"I'm fine," Lex snapped irritably. He turned to look at his father with cold eyes. He spoke in a whisper, but Lois still managed to hear the words. "It was you, wasn't it?"
She didn't managed to catch Lionel's response. Someone was trying to calm the room down and take charge of the situation. For a moment she thought it was Bruce, but when she looked around, she saw that he had disappeared…
888
The stars sprinkled silent concern across the city of Metropolis as Bruce stepped out into the night. Their illumination was however, strictly unnecessary. Artificial light pushed back the shadows across the littered streets. It seemed to be trying to say that this was a place of safety, where crime did not belong.
Bruce wasn't fooled. And now a situation he did not want to be involved in had managed to complicate itself further. The police would establish a perimeter, but he knew the getaway had been clean. It would be a lot easier if this were Gotham. His turf, his advantage. Still, he knew what his next move was. His attempt to acquire the journal as Bruce Wayne had failed. Now it was up to Batman.
888
From his position outside Lex's room, Clark could tell it smelled of dried fruit. He could also see Lana was talking with Lex, and he resisted listening in. It wasn't easy, but he had successfully spent much of his life not looking through Lana's clothes. He had a will of iron.
"Was anybody else hurt?" Clark asked. Lionel had a hand on his mother's shoulder, and he was making a point of not saying anything about it.
"No sweetie, the police say they dumped their hostage a few blocks away from the auction. She's terrified, but she'll be fine."
"Are you okay?"
"Don't worry, son. Your mother's made of tough stuff," said Lionel.
"I'm alright. Are you going to go in and see Lex?" Martha asked him.
"And say what? I'm just here for you and Lana. She wanted to come and see him after she heard what happened. She's a good friend," said Clark.
"Yes, he's lucky he has that," said Lionel. "Losing your friendship was a huge blow to him, you know."
"So what exactly was this book that was stolen?" asked Clark, keen to change the subject.
"A journal. It chronicled an archaeological dig out in the Kalahari desert."
"What? Why would anybody steal that?"
"For that matter, why would something like that be at an auction in the first place? You can't just sell something like that, surely," said Martha.
"Except the findings were deemed unfit for publication to the world at large. The group never finished the dig. Instead, they found something they weren't looking for."
"Like what?" asked Clark. Lionel looked at him carefully.
"I'm not entirely certain. Most of what I heard about it is only speculation. Lex could probably tell you more than I can."
"Three people were prepared to kill to get their hands on it. Lex was prepared to pay tens of thousands of dollars for it. I want some answers."
"You do know more than you're telling, don't you?" Martha asked, stepping away from Lionel and joining her son. Lionel sighed.
"When the journal was recovered, it was thought largely irrelevant. There are three specific areas of interest. The first is to do with the fate of the team. Seven people headed out, and only two returned. One of them has since gone missing, the other went mad. Reports of what actually happened were vague and conflicting. That book may hold the key to finding out what went wrong. The second is a description – alleged description, anyway – of a strange creature resembling a… Chimaera, a monster from Greek mythology. A mix of a lion, goat and snake."
"A Chimaera?" repeated Clark. This was making less and less sense.
"I don't know any details. Only select information was revealed, to try and create interest in the sale of the journal. If we knew everything, no-one would need to buy it."
"So what's the third thing?"
"Mr Luthor, Lex is asking to see you," said Lana, hurrying towards them. Lionel gave an apologetic smile and left them where they were.
"How's he doing?" asked Martha.
"The bullet didn't hit any arteries. He's lucky. Or as lucky as you can call someone who's been shot."
"Want me to see you home?" asked Clark.
"Thanks. But what about you and Mrs Kent?"
"I'm checked into a hotel for the evening," said Martha.
"I'll probably just drive back," said Clark, who meant run, since his truck was back in Smallville.
"Clark, it'll be dawn before you get home. There's room for you with me and Chloe. I mean, not much, but we can get by."
"Uh, sure," said Clark. "You going to be alright, mom? I don't like to just leave you…"
"I'll be fine, Clark," she said, kissing his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."
888
Arm in a sling, Lex swung his legs around to sit on the edge of his bed. Lionel's face showed no concern whatsoever. He thought he now had a fair idea of what was going on here. Certainly he knew more than he'd told Martha and Clark. And more than he planned to let Lex know, at least for now.
"You see where these little obsessions of yours get you, Lex?"
"When I get in your way, you mean?"
"I've told you before, I have no interest in that journal. I never even placed a bid for it."
"Because you never needed to."
Pausing to brush some imaginary dust from the side of the bed, Lionel sat down next to his son.
"Does this really seem like my style, son?"
"Maybe not, but I doubt Bruce Wayne hired anyone to pull that stunt."
Nodding agreement, Lionel leaned closer to Lex. His son looked slightly pale, but otherwise as strong as ever.
"Someone else then?" whispered Lionel.
"You have an idea?"
Oh yes, Lionel thought but didn't say. He had a very good idea who'd hired those three. He knew it wasn't him, and no way was it Wayne. Wayne appeared very anti-crime, just like his parents. It could potentially have been a random thief. The book would attract way too much attention to sell onto any market, but it could potentially be sold directly to either Lex or Bruce for a tidy sum. Cutting out the middle man.
It could be that, but it wasn't. Because Lex had set the whole thing up. Getting shot was a rather drastic move, designed to eliminate suspicion. It had almost been enough. But Lionel could read his son well, and when the hostage had been taken he'd understood Lex's protest. That hadn't been part of the plan.
"I'll leave it up to the police, I think. And to you. You won't be letting this go, of course," said Lionel.
"Of course. No-one steals from a Luthor, be it a pen or a fortune," said Lex.
Lionel chuckled, absently running his hand through his beard. Lex had the book, and that was fine. For now.
888
Lana drove Clark back to her apartment, allowing the silence between them on the way. He looked like he was deep in thought. Probably trying to make sense of it all. It was just him and his mom at home now; God forbid anything should happen to her.
"I guess when you said you were busy, you meant you were looking into Cyrus' death," she said finally. She felt slightly guilty – she'd thought Clark was avoiding her. It didn't make any sense, but he seemed afraid of being alone with her in a private place. No, she thought, that wasn't right. He seemed afraid of sleeping with her. And that's exactly what it was. Everything about him screamed that he wanted to, but he was afraid. But of what? The night they'd spent together had been beyond wonderful. The culmination of years of passion, desire finally given in to. Clark had been a gentle lover, but even then he'd done things she never would have imagined him capable of. Just to think of it made her excited. He hadn't been scared at all then, that was for sure.
"Uh, yeah," said Clark, in that awkward voice she knew too well. The 'I don't want to lie, but I'm going to anyway' special.
"You could have just told me, Clark. I want to help."
"I know," said Clark, in a voice that told her he was miles away.
Chloe was gone when they got back; she'd left a message saying she was with Lois, and wouldn't see her until tomorrow. Looks like she and Clark would be spending the evening alone together after all.
"Do you think Chloe will mind if I sleep on her bed?" asked Clark.
"No, but… Clark, there's room for two in mine, you know."
"Uh…"
"Clark, I've told you, there's no pressure. I just want you to lie with me," she said. A voice rose in the back of her mind before she could kill it, adding 'Instead of lying to me'. Taking his hand, she pulled him backwards so he landed gently on top of her on the bed. Kissing him softly, she began to undo the buttons on his shirt.
"Lana…" began Clark, but Lana hushed him.
"Trust me, Clark."
Pulling his shirt away, tossing it aside, she sat back and removed her own top. Pressing herself against Clark, she allowed one of his hands to snake up, cupping her breast. His hand felt wonderfully warm, the skin smooth, not like she would expect a farmer's hand to feel at all. Clark kissed the nape of her neck, moving forwards and lying on top of her in a comfortable embrace.
888
Nervously, Clark brushed his hand against Lana's cheek. She smiled at him, and he knew he could trust her. He could read it in her body. It told him they would go as far as he wished, and no further. She was showing him her body, and telling him he could be comfortable with it. There was no reason for him to be afraid, she was saying. But there was. And he knew he couldn't take things as far as he would like. He had to stay in control.
Feeling Lana's chest rising rhythmically against his skin, he allowed himself to calm down. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her breast. She looked beautiful beneath him, stunningly innocent… though still waters ran deep. We could do it, he thought. I can be careful.
No, said a voice in his head, one of the unfortunate thoughts running in a hamster wheel in his mind. Who knows what could happen?
It could be wonderful.
It could be a disaster.
Lana's chest had stopped rising. He realised it almost immediately after the steady rhythm broke, and it took only a moment longer to realise something was terribly wrong.
"Lana?" he called, near panic. He was using his super-hearing and couldn't find a heartbeat.
A strange light fell across them, illuminating Lana's pretty face. Her eyes were closed and her face had frozen in ecstasy. Clark tried to move, and found he couldn't. Slowly he was pulled upwards, pulled away from her. He tried to reach down, but in that moment a flash of light forced him to close his eyes. Then he was gone.
