Chapter 2 #2
I flexed my right forearm, feeling the familiar tingle as the Hammer activated.
The metal beneath my skin warmed, lines of blue energy tracing the tattoo-like patterns that marked where I’d integrated the artifact into my body.
Not my most comfortable body modification, but fuck if it wasn’t worth it.
“Come on, you stubborn little bastard,” I muttered, watching the microscopic components of the cuff realign under my influence.
The Hammer’s power flowed through my fingertips, manipulating matter. I could feel the components responding, shifting with a precision no human hand could achieve. The sensation was intoxicating—controlling the instrument that would control Annie’s power.
But I knew better than to indulge the Hammer for too long. Twenty seconds in, and the burning started. Thirty seconds, and it felt like molten metal replacing the blood in my veins. The Tinkerer had designed his toy for short, controlled bursts. Not sustained use.
I pulled back, cutting the connection as sweat beaded on my forehead. The blue glow faded, leaving behind the dull ache that always followed. Worth it, though. The relay was perfect now.
“Fuck,” I hissed, massaging my forearm. The implantation had been my own design—a marriage of the Hammer’s power with my own body. Elegant in theory. Excruciating in practice.
But pain was temporary. Power was forever.
The lab door slid open, and Menace strolled in looking like he’d just won the fucking lottery. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he had that particularly relaxed expression that only comes from recent, thorough sex.
“Morning, sunshine,” he chirped. “Coffee?”
I glared at the steaming mug he held out like it was personally responsible for my current state of celibacy. “I’ve been awake for five hours.”
“And yet somehow not less grumpy.” He set the mug down anyway, peering at my project. “That the cuff?”
“No, it’s a nuclear-powered dildo. What the fuck do you think?”
“Someone’s touchy.” He leaned against my workbench, crossing his arms. “Dawn says Annie has to oversee two new junior Heroes.”
The casual mention of her name was so unexpected, I stopped breathing for a second. “Fascinating,” I recovered. “Did you also discuss any other topics I don’t give a shit about while you were fucking her senseless?”
“Actually, we were too busy with the fucking senseless part for much conversation.” His smile was deliberately provocative. “Unlike some people, I don’t have performance anxiety about seeing my girlfriend in two weeks.”
I pointed my soldering tool at him. “I will melt your face off. To death.”
“You’d miss me.” He glanced at the security feed still running in the corner of my display. “Besides, who else would pretend not to notice you’ve been stalking Annie?”
“It’s surveillance,” I muttered.
“Right.”
I scowled at him, but we both knew I wasn’t actually angry. Not at him, anyway. I was angry at myself and the fact that in three hundred and thirty-six hours I’d have to face Annie and pretend I hadn’t spent every day since Dread thinking about her.
Menace ignored my glare and settled deeper into the chair across from my workbench like he was planning to stay for a while. He even had the audacity to prop his feet up on my spare parts container.
“By all means, make yourself comfortable,” I said, pointedly shoving his feet off. “It’s not like I’m trying to work on something that could prevent catastrophic powers from being unleashed.”
“Always so dramatic.” He immediately put his feet back up. “Would it kill you to take a five-minute break from your brooding routine?”
I jabbed my soldering tool in his direction. “I’m about to find out if this would actually kill you.”
He just laughed, which only irritated me more. There was something profoundly annoying about someone being immune to your threats after they’ve seen you drunk and crying over engineering schematics at one in the morning.
“I’m throwing a party this weekend,” he announced, examining his fingernails with exaggerated casualness.
I waited for the part where what he was planning involved me. When nothing followed, I raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“And I’m having it here.”
“Here as in my penthouse? Where I plan crimes and build weapons?”
“Here as in the penthouse you barely use except to stare at screens and masturbate sadly.”
I set down my tools. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part.”
“Look, I know you’ve got something lodged so far up your ass right now it’s practically tickling your tonsils,” he continued. “But I figured you’d want some warning before I invited a bunch of people into our space.”
“How thoughtful.” The sarcasm in my voice could have stripped paint. “Why the hell are you throwing a party? Is this some kind of midlife crisis?” I asked, returning to the delicate circuitry. “Or did you just decide my security measures needed stress testing?”
Menace shifted in his seat, a flicker of uncharacteristic nervousness crossing his face. “Normal people like to have fun sometimes. You should try it. Might help with that perpetual scowl you’ve been perfecting.”
I glanced up, catching something in his tone that didn’t match his usual bravado. He wasn’t meeting my eyes, which for Menace was practically a neon sign screaming that something was up.
“Talk. You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”
He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to tell Dawn who I really am.”
My hands froze over my work. “You’re going to tell her you’re a Super.”
“Everything. The Super part, the League part. All of it.”
“And you thought having this revelation at a party was smart because...?”
“No, you idiot.” He looked genuinely flustered now, which was fascinating from a purely scientific standpoint. I’d never seen him this rattled. “The party comes after I tell her. If she doesn’t immediately kick me to the curb.”
“Still not seeing why you’d throw a party for this spectacular display of poor judgment.”
Menace stared at the ceiling, then the floor, then finally at me. “Because after I tell her, assuming she doesn’t run screaming, I’m going to propose to her. At the party.”
My brain stuttered to a complete halt.
“You’re going to what?”
“Propose. Marriage. That thing where you legally bind yourself to someone you don’t want to live without.”
I blinked, trying to process this information. “You’ve known her for what, five minutes?”
“Six months.”
“And you want to marry her? A civilian? Who doesn’t even know you’re a fucking super-powered criminal?”
“That’s why I’m telling her first,” he said, as if this made it all perfectly reasonable.
“Jesus Christ.” I leaned back, genuinely stunned. “You’re serious.”
“Yep.”
Something that felt uncomfortably close to envy twisted within me. Not of Menace specifically, but of his certainty. His willingness to risk everything for someone.
“Well,” I finally managed, “I guess I’d better clear my calendar for a wedding. Or a funeral. Fifty-fifty odds, really.”
Menace’s face fell. “Fifty-fifty? Really?”
I sighed. The idiot actually looked like he might throw up.