Chapter 3
“I’m disappointed.”
Two words hit like a blow to my already aching sternum.
Carmen LaToya held a steely gaze that attempted to burn a hole through my chest. Not literally, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she had powers.
The outline of a shoulder holster under her blazer suggested human. It didn’t make her any less terrifying.
“I was hoping to see a few more of our requests in the proposal.”
She glanced down at the stack of papers. Along the rim were dozens of sticky notes highlighting the additional features. After meeting with Orion, we could implement them all. Arthur had pushed back, and I agreed with his ethical stance.
“I am putting together an unparalleled team of supers to protect Vanguard… to protect the world.” Her lips moved, but nothing else did.
Carmen LaToya had practiced making herself a blank slate.
No emotion. No physical tells. She controlled the room by making herself mysterious.
It might have worked if the wound on my chest didn’t sting with every breath.
“Your app could help ensure that they—”
“The HeroApp? is not for you.” I flinched as I spoke the stern words.
She couldn’t stop her eyes from going wide.
If she mastered the art of stillness, I had advanced degrees in being overlooked.
“We are happy to partner with the Centurions, but we’re not excluding other heroes.
As I’m sure you’re well aware, being the good guy is a team effort. ”
Arthur wanted this partnership, but not if it meant exclusivity. Heroes were finally turning the tide, and everybody at this company took pride in helping. She might want to create a team of A-list superheroes, and we’d help them just like we did everybody else. We wanted it, but on our terms.
“Our investors won’t like this.”
I had done everything by the book. Before she arrived, I lit calming candles and started my waterfall soundtrack.
I skipped the cookies. No amount of sugary goodness would break her.
Eyeing the door, I made sure it was firmly closed.
Being nice had gotten no results. With careful precision, I let Drew’s mask slip.
“We have hundreds of heroes using the app. I’m not sure they would agree. Wouldn’t put the Centurions in the best light, would it?”
She leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs.
Despite moving, her face held perfectly still.
I couldn’t tell if my threat evoked anger or amusement.
As quickly as I made the statement, I regretted it.
If she told Arthur, would my boldness shatter a year's worth of goodwill I had built with the boss?
“I wasn’t sure you had it in you.” I raised an eyebrow. Her face softened, as if I had cracked an off-handed joke. “I’m here to get everything I can for the Centurions. I’ll gladly steamroll you until I get what I want.”
“As you should.” I didn’t understand the game being played.
She leaned forward, head shaking. “There you go again, Mr. Carter. I see something behind those eyes.” Carmen LaToya reminded me of a snake, poised and ready to strike. “Dare I say, hellish?”
My back stiffened. Had it been a clever choice of words, or did she know my secret? I assumed a woman with her resources had more intel than the average person. I tried replaying where I might have gone wrong or given away my identity. My fingers dug into the armrests, angry at her and myself.
“If you’re insinuating something…” My voice dropped. “There will be hell to pay.”
Her grin was genuine. Under her blazer, the silver hilt flashed as she stood. Setting her briefcase on my desk, she popped it open and dropped the proposal inside.
“Mr. Carter.” She reached for her breast pocket. If she thought I’d flinch from a gun, she didn’t realize how often I had one pointed at my head. “If you find your other selves needing an outlet, call my people.” She set the business card on the corner of the desk as she exited my office.
“What the heck?”
Gold foil letters: Carmen LaToya, Director of Talent Acquisitions.
As soon as she cleared the lobby door, I could hear furniture across Secret Identities screech and slam into walls.
Wyatt appeared like magic, panting as if he had squeezed out every ounce of super speed to be the first in my doorway.
Behind him, Arthur jumped up and down, trying to peer over the burly man’s shoulder.
“Friend Drew. Did the scary lady agree?”
“Yeah,” Arthur huffed behind him. “Did she agree?”
I slid the card off my desk, dropping it into a drawer.
Standing, I straightened my tie, buying time as I searched for the words nobody in the office wanted to hear.
Flattening my tie, I brushed my hand along the bruise on my clavicle.
For a second, I could see the fight that had caused it. Hellion didn’t mince his words.
“She will.” I couldn’t tell if I lied or projected a hopeful future.
It was Janet who pushed Wyatt into my office so she could step around him. Without warning, she fired confetti into the air. She started her victory dance, and I barely averted my eyes when she started in with her infamous hip thrusts.
“It’s not a yes,” I said.
Janet didn’t stop her dance.
I waited for a disappointed expression to flash across Arthur’s face. When the corner of his lip turned up, I felt a moment of pride, quickly followed by confusion. “She didn’t say yes,” I repeated.
“What Janet is attempting to say through interpretive dance—”
“It ain’t a no,” she finished. She had Wyatt pinned against a filing cabinet as she ground against his side. The poor alien didn’t know how to flee. Orion appeared, saw the chaos, and quickly backpedaled toward his office.
“Sometimes the lack of a no is as good as a yes,” he said. “She’s playing hardball. We’re still in the running.” I’m not sure if he attempted a victory dance or an impromptu wiggle. For a split second, I could see the family resemblance.
They might consider it a victory, but I hadn’t gotten the signature that would change our lives.
If I had been firmer or called her bluff, perhaps she’d have pulled out a pen and signed on the dotted line.
They celebrated the lack of defeat, but it still wasn’t the victory we wanted.
I appreciated their support, but for the moment, it felt hollow.
Her words echoed in the back of my head. Other selves. She considered herself clever, referencing my alter ego. Not even Carmen LaToya understood that she had met the alter ego. With that, I decided tonight would be another opportunity to remove the mask.
Wyatt: Friend, are you okay?
Orion: What he said.
Janet: He’s got a case of ginger-vitis.
Drew: How do you know about him?
Orion: Who?
Janet: Orion, what kind of conspiracy theorist are you?
Wyatt: Friend Drew, we shall go to the dentist together!
Janet: Wyatt…
Orion: Wyatt…
Drew: Wyatt…
They meant well… even Janet. I had turned down another opportunity to go on patrol with them.
I’d need to say yes the next time, or their questions would turn to inquiry.
After my disastrous meeting with LaToya, I needed alone time.
Every once in a while, we’d find a villain breaking out of jail or threatening to overthrow the city.
Most nights, it’d be the three of us gabbing as we waited for a sign of wrongdoing.
Hellion didn’t have that problem.
Midnight had come and gone. Southland didn’t fall asleep with the rest of Vanguard.
The city streets were still busy as people rushed to their second jobs.
For the rest of the city, bad guys waited for the sun to set.
In Southland, it made no difference. Street lamps struggled to illuminate the shadows where bad things happened.
It wasn’t the shadows I was concerned with.
I wanted the bad guys willing to step into the light.
I glanced down and checked where my uniform hid the gash across my chest. Hiding in the doorway of an apartment building, I pressed my hand against the wound—a streak of red spread across my glove. For a second, my suit flickered the same crimson, making the blood all but vanish.
“That’ll leave a mark,” I hissed. It didn’t hurt as much as my ribs, which didn’t bode well. It could have been worse. At least I hadn’t been skewered on the assassin’s katana. I’d need to see my tailor and ask about something blade-proof.
Even as I admitted to the pain, I couldn’t help but smile. The bounty on my head had continued to climb. I had gone from local bandits wanting a piece of me to international assassins flying in. How long before the number reached a point where I’d have to fear Janet turning me in?
“Somebody help!”
I wouldn’t die tonight, at least not from this.
One assassin in jail didn’t end my work.
Closing my eyes, I let my powers ripple outward.
Colors shifted until it appeared as if I were an old man wearing a sports coat.
As long as I maintained a modicum of concentration, I’d look like an average man going on his evening walk.
Booker: Ms. Keyes’s files are… thorough.
My phone read the text in a robotic voice that didn’t do Booker justice.
After Ricardo’s office, we exchanged numbers, and I made an awkward exit with the promise of meeting tomorrow.
Despite my numerous blunders, I couldn’t help but smile at the memory of his hand on my arm.
Even bleeding and exhausted, my shoulders slumped, and I breathed easily.
Drew: You were the overachiever in school, weren’t you?
I wanted a fight, a chance to slam my fist into a bad guy’s jaw.
The assassin had been a fun tryst, but it only made me want more.
It wasn’t bloodlust, or at least I didn’t think so.
Every time the cops carted away a bad guy, I felt as if I was doing something for the city.
Even if they didn’t know me by name, I wanted to make a difference.
Southland needed Hellion as much as I needed them.