Chapter 3 #2
Booker: Valedictorian. Captain of the debate team. Peer mediation counselor. Shot put champion.
Drew: Now you’re showing off.
Booker: Funny, that’s what my teachers said.
He had a disarming charisma. Even as the robotic voice read his texts, I smiled.
I still wasn’t sure why Ricardo had picked me.
His ‘under the radar’ comment didn’t seem useful for interrogation.
I wondered if he picked me because Orion would have turned it into a slog of conspiracy theories, and Wyatt would have given away our alter egos?
I froze as I spotted an elderly lady standing under a tree.
Despite the warm air, she wore a housecoat while she poked at a branch with her broom.
Vanguard had a growing number of villains, yet the loudest cries for help still came from people with animals stuck in trees.
It wasn’t breaking bones, but I couldn’t ignore a citizen in need.
As I approached, I let the color wash away from my suit, removing my disguise until it was a dark crimson. I didn’t need to scare granny with blood-drenched leather.
“Cat get away from you?”
“Mittens,” she said. “I’m going to strangle that damned cat.”
Booker: Ms. Keyes made a list. I’m not liking it. I want to interview some of the original employees.
As soon as I stepped up, the granny backed away from the tree.
I inspected branches, looking for the furball of doom.
I didn’t want to climb a tree in the middle of the night, but if she needed assistance, I’d provide it.
Firefighters and cops had better things to do.
Heroic acts didn’t always involve brawls… unfortunately.
“The little fucker is a pain in the ass.” Granny had a mouth on her.
I reached the lowest branch, standing on my tippy-toes.
Nowhere in the darkness did I see movement.
It’d be just my luck that her cat had skittered to the top of the tree.
After this, I’d call it a night. I needed to go home and look at my wounds and see if any of them required stitches.
As a car passed by, the headlights illuminated the branches, and nowhere did I see Granny’s cat.
Booker: I can’t explain it, but something doesn’t feel right.
Something definitely didn’t feel—
I watched the thin black line cross my face.
My hand shot up just in time to prevent the garrote from snaring my throat.
The rope tightened as Granny pressed her knee into my back.
Even a little old lady trying to kill a hero didn’t slow the next car on the street.
Nope. Nothing to see here. Just another night in Southland.
“Did you know—” Oh great, the assassin that liked to talk. “—you’re worth a small fortune. When I give her your head—”
“Oh,” I growled. “Just shut up.”
Drew: Just shut up.
Booker: Did I say something?
Shit.
Drew: Fat fingers. Hold on.
“Who are you talking to? One of your superhero buddies? Think they’re going to come save you?”
She twisted her knee against my spine, pulling tighter on the rope. Even with my hand protecting my throat, I could feel it cutting its way through my gloves. Despite nearly having my head severed from my shoulders, I couldn’t help but laugh at her questioning.
“It’s not me who needs saving.”
I threw my head back, smashing it against her face.
As soon as her grip loosened, I ducked under and spun about.
The batons were an option, but the sound of her jaw cracking from my punch was far more gratifying.
To my amazement, she moved with the blow, using the momentum to somersault out of the way.
Drew: Is Tia on the list? My money is on her.
“Tia?”
“Stop eavesdropping,” I said as I reached for my batons.
When Granny reached for her blouse and tore it off, I feared we’d have another elderly nudist incident.
As she pulled at her neck, the mask came off, revealing a young woman clad in liquid latex.
On her neck, she had an upside-down pitchfork, just like the assassin from earlier in the night. Granny received a glow-up.
“You’re one of them?”
“Clan Neptune always catches its prey.”
“Neptune?” She couldn’t see it, but my eyebrow nearly touched my hairline. Catch? Was that a fish joke? Please, please don’t be one of those villains who cracked jokes.
Booker: She’s on the suspect list. I can’t explain it, but I don’t think she’s our target.
Booker: Sure, she’s likely to murder everybody.
Booker: But a bad guy wouldn’t be so open.
She pulled a whip off her hip. A whip. Uncoiling it, she gave it a lift, the tail end cracking in the air.
I’d never understood why assassins picked such archaic weapons.
Not to mention, if she wanted to be on brand, a trident or a harpoon would make more sense.
They needed to talk with their branding coordinator.
With a flick of the arm, the tail came flying. I blocked the whip tying around my baton. She ripped it from my hand. I hurled the other, and she blocked it with a—
“A warhammer? That doesn’t even make sense.”
Drew: That doesn’t even make sense.
“Shit.”
Before I could formulate a reply to Booker, she was on me. She swung the hammer, and as I ducked, she wrapped the whip around my neck. I was going to need tea with honey tonight if I’d be any use at work tomorrow.
My elbow connected with her sternum. Reaching over my shoulder, I grabbed her head and bent forward.
As she flipped through the air, I reached out.
The magnet flared, and my baton skidded along the pavement and snapped into my palm.
Her feet touched down, and I swung the baton upward, smashing it under her jaw. Teeth flew. Inside, I cheered.
Booker: I think we got off on the wrong foot.
Drew: No. Right foot. I was talking to the store clerk.
Booker: Late hour for shopping produce.
Drew: Munchies. Chips are my kryptonite.
“What the hell?” Assassin lady spat blood on the sidewalk. “Are you on the phone?”
“Voice to text.”
Elaborating didn’t diminish her anger. She tried swinging the warhammer, but this close, I grabbed her wrist and stopped the blow.
With the heel of my foot, I kicked at her knee, the bone breaking.
I commended her for not screaming. She panicked, trying to scratch my face.
I spun about and hurled her at the tree.
Booker: Gummy bears for me.
I must have looked like a sociopath as I stood over her limp body with a smile stretched across my face. Not my finest moment, and I’d feel like roadkill tomorrow, but I had cleaned up the streets, stayed alive, and discovered this handsome man loved tiny chewy bears.
“Meow.” A cat jumped from the lowest branch into my arms.
“Great.” Orange with white stripes. I imagined it wasn’t much different from Booker’s chest hair. I had defeated two members of an assassin’s guild, and yet my night hadn’t come to an end.
“Let’s go find your human.”