Blaze of Glory, Page 7

  “Why do they become villains?” David looked towards the stairs as if he expected Limox, who was still making his way up the steps, to sprout horns and wings.

  I shrugged. “It’s a whole psychological thing. They run us through tests and suggest what’s most appropriate for us.” The overweight man disappeared from sight. “His deal was, or is, that he’s basically a dirty old man. Loves his porn. Especially the young girls.”

  David gave off a noise, something between a grunt and a sigh. “Ah. The failings of man.” He nodded towards the ceiling. “Jessie’s up there installing a set of monitors and servers to help you coordinate things.”

  My eyes must have been the size of saucers, encouraging a reply from David before I could speak.

  “Don’t freak, he borrowed a lot of it from friends.” The dingy dark brown cardigan shifted on his shoulders. “Sort of. I actually didn’t pursue it much further than that.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to figure out how to keep Limox from surfing porn sites and getting us into trouble. Last thing I need is the Mounties smashing down the door because he’s been talking with new friends from Thailand.” I sighed.

  David’s wan smile startled me. “I’ll take care of that. You just focus on what you need to do.”

  “Yeah.” I slumped onto a stool that was strangely empty of books. “That I’m still not sure about. I’ll know in a few hours if anyone else is showing up or if I’m just blowing smoke.”

  He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. “You do what you have to do, Jo. No one is going to blame you for this.”

  “No, I blame us for this.” I rubbed my temples. “If the Agency hadn’t set up all those fights, if we hadn’t played the game, then these aliens wouldn’t have thought they were real. Maybe they wouldn’t have even attacked, or at least we would have been more prepared if we had been real heroes instead of fakes.”

  “You are no fake.” The stern tone took me aback. “And now you have to believe it or you will fail.” David headed towards the back of the bookstore. “Don’t forget to lock the door and flip the sign. I was just waiting for you to return.”

  I shifted my weight back and forth on the stool as he disappeared, probably to make sure Limox didn’t start breaking into porn sites before Jessie had a chance to set up a firewall. According to my watch I had another nine, ten hours before heading back to the tower and seeing if anyone was going to answer my call.

  And if no one showed up?

  I shook my head. I couldn’t afford to start thinking that way. Mike wouldn’t have let me.

  I walked to the front door and turned the deadbolt, listening to make sure it slid home cleanly. It must have been oiled sometime in the past two years—the bugger was impossible to turn when I worked there.

  As I walked up the stairs I heard Limox’s raised voice, which sent a shiver of fear down my spine. If he decided to attack Jessie and David…

  A man’s groan startled me, enough that I grabbed a handful of waves and began to concentrate them into my gloved hands, balling the energy up. It wouldn’t be lethal or really even much more than a mild shock, but it’d have to do.

  Jumping up the last few steps, I took a deep breath and charged into the loft, prepared for anything.

  Except what I saw.

  Chapter Seven

  David looked up from the table, his cheeks turning scarlet as he handed another album of pictures to Limox, who was leaning over the collection of photographs with a wide grin. Jessie was down on his hands and knees under a bookcase at the far end of the large room, entangled in wires.

  “Oh, Jo…” David swallowed loudly. “I thought that, er, well…” He glanced at the super beside him. “I thought Mr. Limox would like to see some of my…special collection.”

  Letting the charges slowly dissipate from my gloves, I couldn’t help smiling as I advanced on the two men. David’s blush darkened even as Limox’s grin expanded, a look of rapture on his face.

  “I, ah…” David stood up. “I thought I’d display my collection of antique lithographs and postcards.”

  I glanced at the images. “Nice…lithographs.” The heat rose in my cheeks despite my smile. “I didn’t know you were into collecting such…rarities.” Mild by current standards, the sketches showed women in various states of undress provocatively eyeing the artist. Of course, this was back when a bare ankle was considered to be risqué.

  “This is great.” Limox jabbed a finger at one postcard carefully preserved under a protective film. “This is from the Second World War and in mint condition.”

  Leaving the super to gawk at the naughty pictures, David waved me over to the small kitchenette. “I thought that I’d give him something that’d keep him off the computer. Give Jessie less of a heart attack.” His flushed face matched his sheepish look.

  “Hey.” I raised both gloved hands. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, David. And if it keeps him happy, then you can give him buckets of the stuff for all I care.”

  “That’s good. I mean it’s fine.” He pulled out a cream-colored handkerchief and began wiping his face. “I mean…”

  “It’s fine.” I grinned. “Mike had a collection of photos along those lines. Except it included a few supers.”

  His eyebrows rose towards the ceiling, his lips moving without any sound coming out.

  “Let’s just say that Dominatrix…well, was.” Leaving the flustered man, I walked over to Jessie, who was still under the table, plugging something into something into something else. “What’s all this?”

  “Your command center,” he mumbled through a mouthful of white plastic zip ties. “If you’re going to have a command center, you need to do it right.”

  I sat on the office chair, pulling it as close to the mess as I dared. “You’ve wanted to do this ever since you were a little kid, right?”

  Now it was his turn to blush.

  “Just don’t give us anything we can’t handle.” I glanced towards Limox, who was still chortling over the faded and yellowed pictures. “And plenty of firewalls. Last thing we need is Meltdown causing all this to melt down by downloading some nasty virus.”

  “Roger that.” He studiously kept his eyes on a series of jacks he was attempting to plug in. “Well, at least you got one response so far.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Didn’t expect him, to be honest.”

  Jessie looked up at me through a tree of wires. “Can you work with them? Villains, I mean?”

  “Going to have to.” The smile was forced. “I’ll let you get back to wiring up the Hall of Justice, or whatever we’re going to call it.”

  I couldn’t blame Jessie for being confused about how the good guys could work with the bad. The conversation I’d had with Mike at the start of our training pretty well covered it.

  “So evil isn’t really evil.” I stared down at the clipboard in front of me, scanning the names of our upcoming opponents. “But why would you want to be a supervillain?”

  “Because it’s more fun, in a way.” Mike pointed at the images coming up on the screen, scrolling through mug shots. I looked back and forth, matching faces to the names on the pages. “Who doesn’t like to twirl a long moustache and cackle as you tie a screaming woman to the train tracks?”

  “Ugh.” I flipped through the inch-thick stack. “Looks like a lot of mental problems, if you ask me.”

  The sigh startled me. “Well, yeah. The Agency has to put them somewhere, so the villain program is their last option.”

  “Or you pull the plug.”

  He stiffened as if I’d actually landed one of those futile punches from our workout. “Let’s move onto allies and teamwork.” Plucking the clipboard from my fingers, he tossed it to one side. “You don’t fight alone. You fight as part of a team.”

  His words echoed in my ears as I looked around the loft. I was pretty sure this wasn’t anything like what Mike had envisioned.

  Limox was still engrossed in the erotic art display,
a thoughtful look on his face as he studied each image. David appeared at my elbow, obviously recovered from our previous conversation. “I’ve got a pot of tea going. Shall I pour you a cup?”

  “That…would be great.” I walked over to the kitchenette with him. I leaned back with my elbows on the narrow counter as he poured out two cups. “I’ll go back this evening and see who else shows up. If anyone.”

  “There’ll be others.” After adding a dash of milk, he put the container back into the mini fridge and passed me the cup. “There’s others who think like you.”

  “I hope so.” I glanced at the supervillain previously known as Meltdown. “Just…watch him. You can’t stop him if he decides to do anything, but…”

  “We’ll be fine. He’s still a good guy, under it all.” He patted my arm.

  “Oh, here.” I pulled a few dollars from my pocket. “Put it towards the groceries. You’re not making any money keeping the store closed.”

  The older man paused before pocketing the money. “I’m not going to ask.”

  “Don’t. I may be a good girl but we still have to eat.” I couldn’t help giggling. “Besides, I like to think of it as a contribution.”

  Leaving Limox with his photo collection, I curled up on the single bed for yet another nap, feeling the weariness in my bones. Well, that and shock.

  Mike was dead. Along with every other aspect of that life. I rubbed my eyes, determined not to break down in front of Limox or Jessie. That was not going to help if I wanted to lead this team.

  Closing my eyes, I forced myself to relax using some old meditation techniques Mike had forced on me back at the Agency when we were still in training together.

  “When the fuck would you use this?” I opened one eye, glaring at him as he sat, cross-legged, directly opposite me.

  “Sometimes you need to take the tension off.” He kept his eyes closed. “I’m ex-military. Trust me, this is better than a bar brawl for relaxation.”

  “I can think of better ways to relax.”

  The edge of his mouth twitched upwards as I openly smirked.

  “That’s your business. Mine is helping you win fights and control your power.” Without opening his eyes he reached over and lightly smacked the side of my head. “So shut the fuck up already.”

  I woke up to the smell of burning wood and rubber. My jaw dropped open when I looked at my watch. It’d been eight hours. My nap had been a full-fledged deep sleep. Scrambling to my feet, I moved around the pseudo-wall constructed of an ancient faux Japanese paper screen to see Limox down on the floor with Jessie. They were both concentrating on a series of wires, oblivious to my reaction.

  “There. That one, please.” Jessie tapped a series of wires leading to a terminal. A thick pudgy finger moved in, rubbing over the thin silver wire, prompting it to melt and drip exactly where Jessie had directed.

  “Great!” He continued to direct Limox back and forth along the floor, the two men slithering on their backs like a pair of bears with mange trying to find relief.

  “Don’t even ask.” David appeared at my side with a cup of coffee. He handed it to me. “Figured we’d channel that energy into something useful.”

  “Why did you let me sleep so long?” I chastised David. The coffee was sweet and hot.

  He shrugged. “Wasn’t any reason to wake you up. Mr. Limox caught a few hours on the couch, and I’ve been napping in my chair while Jessie minded the shop. Things are going well and I figured you needed your beauty sleep.”

  “Ouch.” I dramatically winced. I glanced at my watch. “It’s early, but I feel like stretching my legs. So to speak. Besides, looks like you’ve got things under control here.” I smiled at David. “Put up or shut up time.”

  “Bah. They’ll be there.” He waved a hand in the air. “Go out the back, door’ll lock automatically. And just be careful, we don’t need you on the midnight news yet. You may think you’re all that and a bag of chips, but you’re still human.”

  The small black plastic box was still sitting in the pocket of my leather jacket that hung on the coat rack by the stairs. I didn’t remember putting it there. David must have picked it up from the bed when I had lain down.

  “Jessie?” Pulling the jacket down, I pointed at the bulge in my pocket. “We’re going to need more of these.”

  “Already taken care of.” He lifted his head from the floor. “Installed another one here that’ll block you all while here. And I’ve got orders in for more portable ones.”

  Limox let out a sigh. “I’d totally forgotten about that.”

  “Of course.” Jessie jerked a thumb at me. “That’s why she’s in charge.”

  I smiled at the confidence in his voice. “I’m off to the tower. Do a bit of a walkabout, make sure there’s no one lying in wait for us.”

  “Good luck,” Limox groused from his awkward position. “Don’t let the bed plugs bite.”

  I strode towards the stairs, hopefully with an air of command in my step. Last thing I needed from the start was Limox trying to take over.

  The streets had begun to fill with the evening rush-hour traffic—taxis doing impossible maneuvers in and out of the slow-moving lanes and exhausted businessmen and women struggling to fight their way to the mass transit system to catch their bus or train or streetcar out of the city. I hadn’t kept up with how many people commuted into Toronto to work, but it’d gone up since I left two years ago.

  Queen Street West was a glorious mixture of shops selling everything from alligator cowboy boots to chic fashion to comic books. I’d missed the pleasure of just strolling down the street and taking in the sights, too busy playing the game. The street vendors offering tie-dyed scarves and shirts, handmade jewelry and incense holders in the shape of dragons lying on their backs. The row of motorcycles outside a bar with a line of limousines double-parked beside them. The buskers playing guitars, wooden flutes, a classical cellist performing with an open case at her feet.

  And, despite an alien invasion, people were still going to work and having fun and making love in the small apartments over the stores. Some things never change.

  The afternoon paper showed a front-page shot of the fat avocado hovering over Times Square with some glib comment over the image. Since the attacks had stopped there were a plethora of opinions being bandied around, from running up the white flag and just giving them the planet, to tossing atomic bombs at them and sacrificing the cities. Some had begun to wrap conspiracy theories around reality, claiming it was all a stunt by the supers to try and take over the world. Except for the bodies they were digging out of the rubble, that is.

  The sun had set by the time I had walked down to Spadina and the fashion district, hopping down to King Street and the fancy financial buildings that refused to take a day off for anything, even alien invasions. A few people looked at me askance but didn’t say anything—either they figured I wasn’t who they thought I was or they quietly accepted me back home. Either way I wasn’t going to launch into an explanation.

  I grabbed a hot dog from one of the street vendors and wandered towards the tower, which was easy to spot from almost everywhere in the downtown core. The large domed stadium beside it was empty—no game tonight again. Most major cities had decided against having massive events due to the imminent dangers—which didn’t mean they weren’t happening, they had just been rerouted to smaller towns and the networks were broadcasting even more sports events. Thank goodness, I really didn’t relish the idea of trying to find a super in the middle of a crowd of rabid fans.

  The streetlights had kicked on, neon rushing to fill the gaps left by the setting sun. Sitting down on a park bench not far from the tower, I stared up into the sky, seeing the first stars begin to fight their way through the smog clouds.

  “What am I doing, Mike?” I said out loud. “What am I doing?”

  An elderly woman walking nearby gave me an odd look, wrapping her shawl around her a bit tighter as she passed me by.

  Closing my eyes, I
took a deep breath and sighed.

  “Weight on your shoulders, dearie?”

  The senior who had passed me by earlier had seated herself next to me, pulled out a bag of bread and was tossing it in hunks and chunks, signaling a feeding frenzy for the ever-present pigeons.

  “Oh, just a bad day.” The crowd of birds at our feet began to grow and spread out, covering the white concrete up to the road.

  “We all have those,” the white-haired woman replied, the dark brown shawl loose on her shoulders. “But we just have to fight through it.” Turning towards me, she smiled, her lips pressed together. “Don’t we?”

  Her mouth never moved, but the words echoed in my mind all the same.

  Chapter Eight

  I stared at her for a second, hoping I had just imagined the words had popped into my head. Just imagined that the old woman feeding bread to the herds of pigeons had to be a super.

  “No, you’re not imagining it.” A young man sat beside me, his long leather trench coat brushing against my left leg. “May, you know that’s not how we agreed to do it.” His tone held a hint of reprimand.

  The woman puffed out her cheeks with an annoyed huff. “You don’t know how to deal with women, Hunter. That’s why you’re still not married.” The words bounced around my mind, the tone reminding me of a mother chastising her bachelor son.

  I put my hand up to my mouth, hiding the smile. Hunter responded by leaning forward, taking a hunk of bread from May’s bag and tossing it into the crowd. A thick band of metal on his wrist sparkled in the evening lights, sending a chill through my bones.

  Guardian.

  Here.

  Leaping to my feet, I backed away from the couple, charging up my gloves even as I shuffled through the pigeons. Feathers flew everywhere as the birds protested.

  “Now you’re scaring her. I told you to hide that damned thing.” The admonishment reverberated in my head.

  My attention shot back and forth between the white-haired lady sitting on the bench still feeding the pigeons and the Guardian sitting calmly near her with one hand running through his blond hair. I clenched my fists, grabbing as much power as I could, my heart hammering almost uncontrollably.