Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
Mark waited until they hit the sidewalk before giving Joan the third degree. “What was all that cousin stuff about? Does she know about your alter ego?”
“Something like that,” Joan said.
“I thought you didn’t want her to know you’re a Villain.”
“She doesn’t think that.” Joan avoided his gaze. “She…thinks I’m Catch,” she mumbled.
“She what ?”
“She thinks I’m Catch.”
Mark burst into loud laughter.
“Shut up. It was a misunderstanding, and now I don’t know how to get out of it.”
“She thinks you’re Darlene?” Mark snickered. “That’s hilarious.”
“It’s not. I need to tell her the truth, but…”
“But you don’t want her to run screaming down the street because you might set her on fire.”
“Exactly. She keeps saying how she feels safe with me, and trusts me.” Joan scrubbed at the back of her neck. “I don’t know how to come back from that. I’ve been pretty honest with her.”
“Not that honest,” Mark chortled.
“I was about to tell her when you barged in.”
He shook his head and went around to the driver’s side of his tricked-out electric-blue sports car. “Dude. How did this happen?”
“She figured out I have powers and assumed I had to be a Superhero. Which means Catch.”
“She didn’t think you could be a different Super? What about, I dunno, Amazing Woman?”
Joan made a face at him as she opened the passenger side door. “Amazing Woman retired years ago. She’s probably dead by now.”
“She’s practically immortal. She could still be around and be in good shape.”
Amazing Woman was from the old days when Supers had super-gendered names. Her impenetrable body was essentially indestructible inside and out. By the time she’d stepped away from her duties, she was something like seventy years old but barely looked a day over fifty. You couldn’t blame her for being burned out. She’d retired before Spark and Ice’s time, so they’d never interacted with her. All Perry ever said about her was, “She was the most hard-headed person I ever met.”
“I hope I look slightly better than a hundred-year-old woman,” Joan said as she sat on the shiny leather seat. “The point is Sadie does think I’m Catch, and it sucks.”
“It does suck. She’s a cutie pie.”
“Isn’t she?” Warmth pulsed through Joan’s chest.
Mark started the engine and said, “She’s just your type, Catch .”
He released an evil cackle that got louder when she backhanded his arm.
Joan ignored his ribbing and calling her Catch on the short drive to their hideout. She’d half expected Sadie to freak out from that story about the equipment shed. Maybe a small part of Joan had told her as a test. A gauge of how much Sadie could tolerate, or would want to tolerate. But Sadie had clung to the idea of Joan heroically defending Mark, because Joan was a Superhero even before becoming a Superhero.
She didn’t usually feel so bad about lying. This gnawed at her head, at her heart, at her bones. The deep-down facts of what she’d told Sadie were true, but that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right. Sadie didn’t deserve it. And the longer this went on, the harder it would be to come clean.
They parked inside the warehouse and quickly changed into their gear. Mark pulled at the tight crotch on his bodysuit. “I’m not wearing the right underwear,” he grumbled.
“What’s the deal with tonight, anyway? What does Mel want us to do?”
“Perry said it’s cut and dry. A special art exhibit’s being delivered to the museum. Eighteenth-century paintings.”
“Art.” Joan snarled in annoyance. “He picked the thing Perry and I can’t resist.”
“He knows you love pretty things.” Mark snorted and added, “And that I’ll go along with whatever you do.”
“I made it clear we don’t want to be a part of his schemes anymore.”
“That’s why he’s trying to sweeten the score.”
They could decline the job and get Melvin off their backs, and she could hurry home to have dessert with Sadie, and then have dessert with Sadie. If the rest of her tasted as good as her lips…
Only that would require having a conversation Joan was so not looking forward to having.
Perry came in through the back entrance, Irving and Ethel with him. All three were dressed for the task at hand: Perry in gray for Breeze; Ethel in black and yellow for Volt; and Irving in deep green for Hide.
“We’re really getting the band back together,” Mark muttered.
“We don’t have to do this,” Joan reminded him.
The twins stared at the hench-people. They didn’t like each other, but had found it necessary to tolerate one another for the greater good. Er, well, the greater bad, as it were.
Irving acknowledged them with a brisk nod. His straight brown hair poked out of his facemask. Ugh, his terrible halitosis wafted through the air. It was a hilariously cruel joke that he had the ability to be invisible yet could be detected by his foul breath. It got worse when he was nervous before a job.
Ethel scratched at the warm beige skin of her nose. Still the blandest individual on God’s green earth. She didn’t even shoot off electricity in a particularly interesting manner.
Joan turned toward Perry and said, “Don’t be tempted by shiny things. We’re turning this and all other jobs down.”
“Fine,” Perry grumbled. Then he murmured, “Could we start after I take a look at what’s in the shipment?”
“No.” Joan crossed her arms. The rubbery material of her gloves squeaked against her suit.
“You should commit to Trick now,” Irving said. “Before his big plan is set in motion.”
“You’re either with him or against him,” Ethel droned in her monotone.
“Against.” Mark waved his hands around. “How much clearer can we be?”
Ethel slid a glance in Perry’s direction. He was their weak link. Trick knew how to push his buttons because Perry loved nothing more than art. The older, the better.
Stepping in front of him, Joan said, “We don’t need more paintings, and they’re too hard to sell quietly. This is where we draw the line.”
Footsteps clomped from the hidden side entrance. “Are you sure about that?” Melvin said.
Jesus. His lavender Trick ensemble had gotten an upgrade to add more faux muscles. And a flowing cape. And did he somehow look taller? Lifts in his boots, maybe?
Everything was a lie with him.
His henches scurried over like obedient puppies. “Looking good, Trick,” Irving said. He grabbed both sides of the cape and fluffed it out.
“We’re ready for tonight’s plan, Trick,” Ethel said.
“Excellent.” Mel turned to the others, elbowing his cape so it flapped slightly. “What’s this about not wanting to check out a sweet score of eighteenth-century Flemish masters?”
Perry whimpered softly.
“We don’t steal from museums,” Joan said.
Melvin scoffed. “When did you grow a moral code?”
“A rich private collector is one thing. I’m not taking anything from a museum. That art’s for everyone.”
“You know most of it is on loan from some private collection. I’ve had enough of your holier-than-thou attitude.”
“Then stop trying to rope us into doing your dirty work.” Joan looked to her brother to back her up. “We said no more, and we meant it.”
Mark crossed his arms to mirror her. “We’re out, Melvin ,” he said.
“It’s Trick , damn it,” Mel whined.
“It should be Asshat ,” Joan said. “Just because you didn’t want to hear what I had to say doesn’t mean the conversation didn’t happen.”
“Joanie…”
“Don’t Joanie me. I shouldn’t even be here. This pulled me away from something very important for something I don’t want to do.”
Melvin held his hands up like he was trying to calm the situation. One of them got tangled in his new cape and he had to wrestle it free. “Let’s go over the plan before you make any rash decisions.”
Joan rolled her eyes at Mark and sighed deeply. He did the same.
“How about we sit?” Mel said.
“How about I give you a new hole to pee out of?” Joan swirled her hand and brought a roaring flame to shoot upward.
Ethel clapped a bolt of lightning at her. Perry blew them both out with a rush of air. “Knock it off,” he half-heartedly warned.
Melvin cleared his throat loudly. “Hide will go in and scout the area. Once we have eyes on the score, I’ll key in to the movers and tell them we’re authorized to take everything. Breeze and Volt will help me load the truck. Spark and Ice, you run defense outside in case there’s trouble. Can’t have you damaging the paintings, and plus?—”
“Ethel could damage the paintings,” Mark pointed out.
“I focus my energy,” Ethel monotoned. “You two spray yours everywhere.”
Mark wound up with a dirty retort, so Joan interrupted with, “Hard no. I’m done with this conversation.”
Perry shuffled his boots, obviously torn about what to do. The Flemish masters were among his favorites—he already had three oil landscapes in his condo. Getting his hands on them was an evergreen itch he had to scratch.
“ Perry ,” Joan gritted between her teeth.
“There has to be a VanderHooven in the shipment,” he said. “ A VanderHooven . The Holy Grail of?—”
“Come on, dude.”
“I’ve never taken a VanderHooven.”
“Do it some other time.”
“I didn’t mention the best part,” Melvin said. “Spark and Ice aren’t directly involved. You can have a clear conscience about the job.”
Joan snorted and drawled, “That’s how you’re trying to justify this? We’re not technically involved, so we’re not technically working with you?”
“There’s a little thing called aiding and abetting,” Mark said. “We neither want to aid nor abet.”
Mel was characteristically unconcerned. “You’re just bystanders. Tell yourself whatever you have to so you feel better about the job.”
His words poked at something in Joan’s gut. Wasn’t she doing the same thing with Sadie? Letting her think whatever she wanted so Joan could benefit?
Oh, shit. She was no better than freakin’ Melvin.
“It’s a no,” Joan said. “Period. End of story.”
Her body flooded with adrenaline. She didn’t want to be as villainous as freakin’ Melvin.
She pushed past him and headed for the back entrance. “I don’t care what you do. Leave me out of it. For good.”
She shoved the steel door open and took a few running steps. Strong, concentrated flames blasted from her palms, and she shot into the air.
In the dim early evening sky, she flew past rooftops, office building windows, satellite dishes. The wind whipped her long wig.
She’d never liked stealing from places like art museums and hated destroying parts of them. Doing it because freakin’ Melvin wanted to made it infinitely less appealing.
Sadie’s beautiful face filled her thoughts. Her bright smile, her zest for life, the way she kissed Joan with fervor and stared into Joan’s eyes like she knew her.
She didn’t want to be as bad as Melvin. But could she be as good as Sadie imagined her to be?
I want to be the woman Sadie thinks I am.
Her flames lost momentum. She glided down to a dark, deserted alley, landing in a low crouch. Her entire adult life had been spent in dark places. Sadie was a chance to move into the light.
Only she couldn’t be. Joan hadn’t been honest, and once she came clean, Sadie wouldn’t want anything to do with her. She wanted Catch. A Superhero.
What if I went legit? What if Mark and I open our food truck? What if ? —
Movement rushed up and stopped a few feet away. It was Race.
Great. Her brief burst of flying had attracted enough attention to alert a Super.
Joan flared stuttering flames with her hands, poised to strike. “Go away. I’m not up to anything.”
“Just a fire-fueled evening stroll through the air?” Zee said.
“I wasn’t causing any trouble.”
Zee shielded their eyes with one off-white glove. “Point those somewhere else. I come in peace.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“Right,” Joan snorted. “Supers always just want to talk.”
“This time, I do.”
She merged her weak flames into a ball. “About what?”
“Is it true you’re done with Trick?” Zee asked.
“Yes. I’m sick of his shit.”
They nodded once. “I believe you.”
“That’s a surprise,” Joan said, and meant it. “Do your cohorts share your belief?”
Zee paused before answering. “They’re less keen on taking your word for it.”
“They think it’s a trap.”
“I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. You and Mark are the only ones in that bunch with any common sense.” Zee stood watchful, but not poised to strike. Really, any time they stood still was good. If they wanted to, they could wrap Joan up in something secure in seconds.
Joan waved her hands to extinguish the smoldering fireball. It didn’t have much juice thanks to her using so much energy as a flying propellant.
“Listen.” Zee walked toward her. “Can’t you convince Trick to give up his whole First Vector City, then the world plan? You told Darlene you tried talking to him. She doesn’t believe you, but I do.”
Freakin’ Darlene. “He won’t listen to me. He doesn’t listen to anyone. His lackeys do whatever he says. Mark and I stand up to him, but we can’t stop him.”
Zee crossed their arms. “Once he starts in on civilian mind manipulation, we quickly lose control of a situation.”
“I get that it’s hard to stop him, and harder to keep him contained.” Joan took a step back, not that such a small distance would matter should Zee want to capture her. “But you guys need to do something. He’s grown drunk on his self-made power. He even got a cape.”
“He what?”
“He got a new cape attached to his suit. It looks ridiculous.”
“Channeling big Flight energy?” Zee half-laughed.
“I guess.”
They hesitated for a long moment. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he’s our priority right now. We’re doing all we can. Any help you could provide would be?—”
“I know he’s planning on?—”
Joan clamped her mouth shut. She’d rat Mel out if she could force herself to look beyond their Villain Code. They didn’t snitch, didn’t turn each other in. The bad guys were still her people, for better or worse.
Plus, if Mark or Perry decided to take part in the museum heist, she’d be putting them at risk. That was something she’d never do, not for anything or anyone.
Zee stared at her intently, dark eyes shining against the golden skin peeking through the eyeholes on their mask. “He’s planning on what?”
“Taking over the city,” Joan offered weakly.
“Do you know how? Has he filled you in on his plan?”
She focused on a nearby pile of trash bags.
“Come on, Joan. Help us. You and Mark can help bring him down.”
“What will you give us in return?” she asked. “Immunity? A free pass?”
“Well, no, but possibly a moratorium on?—”
“Possibly? So, what, your jerk friends can double-cross us? Not a chance.” Sparks flickered from her eyes. Zee had picked the wrong night for this.
Zee planted their hands on their hips. “You’re a criminal. I can’t wave a magic wand and erase everything you’ve done.”
“But you could let me and Mark go. And Perry, if he goes legit. Mark and I want out of this life. We’re making plans. We want Perry to come with us.”
“Perry will never stop. I tried telling you that years ago.”
“You just wanted me and Mark to join you.”
“I didn’t want you thinking you didn’t have a choice.”
“We didn’t,” Joan stated. “We were homeless street kids. The Supers did nothing to help us. Nothing. You all treated us like shit. Didn’t even offer to buy us food. Oh, wait. You never pay for anything. You couldn’t even give us a free meal.”
Zee didn’t respond to that. They couldn’t. They knew the Supers had failed two angry kids with superpowers. Bad seeds once again.
“Perry took us in. He helped us control our abilities so we?—”
“So you could use them for his benefit.”
“So we wouldn’t destroy the city. You should be thanking him.”
The heaviness of an old, unresolvable argument hung between them. A small part of her had always wondered what made Perry so vehemently anti-Super, and vice versa. It went deeper than just the Hero/Villain conflict. It sometimes felt like his life of crime was to spite them. The more he villained, the more he was determined to villain. That had to be why he didn’t like the idea of going legit.
“I can talk to the others,” Zee said. “See what we can do for you.”
“That’s not a good enough guarantee.”
“What good is a guarantee to a Supervillain? You could very well double-cross us .”
“I would if you didn’t uphold your end of the deal.”
“Then why should I trust you?”
“Why should I trust you ?” Joan countered.
“If I was here to capture you, I would’ve done it by now.”
“Yeah, and I’d have burned through whatever you’d try to contain me with.”
Zee cocked their head. “Let me put it another way. If you don’t want to be lumped in with all the Villains, don’t lump me in with all the Supers.”
Hmm. Good point. “Maybe,” Joan answered slowly.
“We don’t always see eye to eye.”
“They’re total jerks.”
Zee looked like they wanted to agree, but changed their mind. “You and I have more in common than you want to admit.”
“What, that we’re both stubborn? Sarcastic? Think Darlene’s a pain in the ass?”
“She’s very dedicated to our cause.”
Joan rolled her eyes.
“Do I have to point out the obvious?” Zee gestured at their off-white outfit, then at Joan’s black-and-red getup. “We’re part of a larger community.”
They gestured back and forth again. “We’re both queer,” Joan realized.
“And Mark. Did you ever stop to think that’s why I’ve been lenient on you two all these years?”
“Lenient?” Joan fisted her hands.
Zee’s mouth pulled into a little smirk. “Like I said. You’d already be on your way to jail if I wanted it.”
Ugh, Zee was still a smarmy Super at heart. But they wanted to do the right thing—the right thing, not the stringent, by-the-rules thing.
Joan sighed, the weight of the evening sitting on her like Lunk. “Look, I’ll think about it, and I’ll talk to Mark. But you’re probably on your own.”
Zee nodded, then shifted their feet. “As a gesture of good faith…”
They zoomed away, barely leaving a puff of dust.
Joan slumped against a nearby brick wall. Could she ever really trust a Super? Could the Supers trust her? Would Mark laugh his ass off at the idea of a shaky alliance? They’d tried to go legit before, and it never stuck. Villainy was the life they knew. The one they were good at.
This time could be different. They had a plan. They had the food truck dream and a way to utilize their powers to benefit their business. And maybe they could even get off Vector City’s Most Wanted list, even though that would require turning on three people who were sort of like family. Or at any rate, who were no better than Big Liar Joan.
Then she could come clean to Sadie. Tell her yes, Spark had been a thieving liar, but that life was behind her. Joan would be one hundred percent honest with Sadie from then on. Sadie could be an important part of New Law-Abiding Citizen Joanie.
She needed time to think this through. And to talk to Mark. And Perry, if she could convince him to start a new life. Only Zee had a point—Perry loved the thrill of the heist. The making (and taking) gobs of money.
She slunk out of the alley to walk back to the warehouse. A young white woman carrying a grocery bag took one look at her and screamed and dashed across the street. Up ahead on the sidewalk, two Latino men elbowed each other.
“Damn, it’s Spark,” one said.
They stared at her, either frozen in fear or waiting to see what she’d do. One of them pulled out his cellphone. Possibly to take a photo, possibly to report a Villain sighting.
Ugh. Joan wanted to tell them to chill out. Spark wasn’t on the prowl tonight. She turned and ran in the opposite direction. Away from anyone thinking she would do them harm.