Chapter 6

1 Kismet

Kismet woke up groggy, stretched across her single bed. Straight after her work at the school, she’d crashed, and crashed hard. She didn’t wake until late morning, almost afternoon.

It wasn’t just bad sleep making her sluggish. The world around her felt wrong. It was like the air didn’t sit right on her skin. She was sure – or at least, she hoped – it was just psychosomatic. But even after so long, she still couldn’t get used to Universe Royal.

Yet she couldn’t rest, either. For one, there was more to do. For another, a continuous noise disturbed her. Raised voices from her neighbours.

No – just one raised voice. Just the man of the family shouting his belligerent fury. Kismet couldn’t make out the words, but specifics didn’t matter. She didn’t think the man himself even cared what he said, as long as it was hurtful. Better than crawling her way back to consciousness, that woke her up in a hurry. The sound made her blood boil.

But she had to keep a lid on it. She couldn’t use her talent so close to home; there was too much risk they would find her.

Deep breaths. Counting down from ten. She made her fist unclench and made herself focus on what she could do, on the work she still had in front of her. That would do a whole lot more good than beating up one abuser, even if the gratification waited so much farther ahead.

Finally, she sat up and took stock, trying to keep her attention off the shouting. Every morning, it felt strange to wake up in that flat. The heavy curtains kept out all but a thin glimmer of light. The main room’s small space crowded around her, with barely enough room for the bed, wardrobe, and couch, let alone the other furnishings she crammed in. Yet, it was enough for what she needed. The couch was just for show, to make the place seem a little more lived-in and a little less suspicious.

And the clutter of the many small furnishings created a smoke screen to hide what was actually important. She went through each of her hiding spots to check on her stash. Immediately, she swore: the leftover potions were still there, but she was down to her last, emergency dose of talent tears. Dammit, she needed those.

She’d just have to go get more. She finally threw on some clothes – not her full work outfit, but something simple. Someone dressed in full-body concealment would stand out; an athletic, black woman in casual clothes wouldn’t. The best privacy came from obscurity.

While she dressed, she looked deeper into the wardrobe, behind the hidden panel. There, she hid her road map. Looking back over her plans reminded her not just of what she had to do, but why she had to do it, reflected in the pictures.

She knew what she was working towards. Reaffirmed, she hit the street. Her run-down apartment gave her more obscurity-driven privacy, and it also kept her a short walk from her most important clients.

2 Kismet

Kismet took the familiar paths through the side entrance and into the backstage area of the Shining Eye theatre. Guards watched her every step of the way, but they knew her by sight if not name. A few checked her out from behind as she passed, but she ignored it. If their attention stayed below the belt, they were that much less likely to recognise her face. They only stopped her at the door to what Rico insisted on calling ‘the war room’. After conferring through the door and a moment’s wait, they let her pass.

Curtains had been pulled to cover the walls and a cloth draped over the table. Kismet was no stranger to the room, not after past work with the Grimaldis – under that cloth would be a map, and that curtain hid a board where they developed the plan. But this time, she wasn’t part of their plans, and they wanted to keep it that way. Rico Grimaldi stood with his hands folded on the table, while Billy Bling sat with his feet up, polishing his rings rather than paying attention.

Kismet cast her gaze around the room. “Making some big plans, I see.”

“None that are any of your business, I assure you.” Rico’s tone was cold, dismissive. She wasn’t part of this compartment.

“Fine by me,” Kismet said. “I’ll just imagine you’re stalking girl scout cookie routes.” Two could play at droll and dismissive, but that wasn’t why she was there. She drew an empty vial from her pocket and wiggled it in front of Rico. “I need a top-up. The usual.”

“Already?” Rico asked. “I resupplied you just last month.” He kept the sneer off his face, but not out of his tone. That ironic contempt that a dealer had for a supposed junkie, even while relying on them for business.

“It’s because you’re doing things his way.” Billy Bling rose from his seat. He stretched as tall as the low room allowed, not coincidentally showing off his muscles. “Stick with me, girlie, and we’ll get the job done.”

“And what job’s that?” Kismet made sure not to turn and look at Bling while she spoke, just keeping him in her peripheral vision. “Hiding from capes?”

Bling scowled, but didn’t rise to the bait.

Kismet moved on. She drew a small envelope from her back pocket. “The fee’s all here.”

Rico considered the envelope, gears turning behind his eyes. Slowly, still thinking, he shook his head. “No.” He said it almost ponderously.

Dammit, she needed those tears. Her plans wouldn’t work without them. “What, so my money’s no good here now?” she growled.

“Your money, no,” Rico said. “Your skills, on the other hand, could barter your way forward.”

She kept her expression carefully blank, even as she felt her skin trying to crawl. “You have a job for me, then.”

“A simple retrieval,” Rico said. “You want talent tears from us? First you bring some in for us. There’s a shipment waiting off the coast which has found some trouble in making its way to us.”

“Trouble like already being intercepted by the Vigilants,” Bling said. He gave Rico a hard look. “This again?”

“That was just a dummy shipment.” Rico shot Bling a brief glare, but otherwise didn’t look away from Kismet. “The rest awaits a signal and a competent escort.”

It’d be hypocritical for Kismet to feel too bad about bringing drugs into the city. “Fine. Show me what you’ve got.”

Rico unlocked a concealed filing cabinet and laid the files out, on top of the table cloth.

Kismet looked them over. A generic satellite map, with handwritten notes pointing out coordinates and routes; a cargo manifest; a description of the boat and its crew. As she read them, she felt the plan starting to form. “I’ll need some alternative drop-off points, at least six runners, and two days to plan.”

“You have today,” Rico said.

Kismet choked. “That’s bullshit! You couldn’t get this through yourselves. It takes time—”

“You have succeeded before with less.” Rico’s tone was flat, certain, and would expect no further argument. Not if she expected to get those talent tears. “I’ll arrange the others, and they’ll be ready to move no later than two o’clock. See that you join them.”

Kismet swore under her breath, but gathered up the files and took them with her. She’d get it done; he hadn’t left her a choice. But she didn’t look forward to the possibility of tangling with the Vigilant Society.

3 Maximum

The Beacon’s living space shaped up nicely into a party zone. Snacks and drinks flowed freely; Maximum queued up a mix worth dancing to; and Dynamo Dame put the finishing touches on the decorations. They didn’t know when the others would arrive, but they’d be ready.

Just when Maximum was adding a few more energetic tracks, Dynamo Dame grabbed him by the wrist. “Hey Max, I need your hands over here.”

Maximum just went with it and soon found himself manoeuvred with his back to a corner, opposite the elevator. “Uh, sure. What do you need?”

“Just hold me steady.” She climbed a stepladder, carrying one end of a long banner with her.

The new height put her chest almost exactly in front of his face. As she stretched forward, her breasts filled his field of view. They shouted at him from above her petite waistline. He could memorise every fold of her costume’s shirt, taut against them; he could even make out her bra’s cups, outlined in the fabric. He actively resisted his first instinct and instead took her by the waist.

Dynamo Dame almost dropped the banner. She recovered with a laugh. “I meant, like, hold the ladder steady.”

“Oh. Um.” His hands didn’t want to let go. She felt pleasantly warm, and his fingers were set so half rested on her crop top’s material and the other half on supple, tanned skin.

“This works,” Dynamo Dame said. “Just hold me a little tighter.” She leaned farther into him, trusting in his strength to balance her while she hung one end on the wall. Her stretching and turning twisted her waist in his hands, making her feel livelier than the other times he’d touched her. “Okay, you ready?”

“Ready for—”

She didn’t let him finish asking. She hopped forwards, off the stepladder. Yet, he only held her full weight for less than a second. A low hum suffused her skin and her whole body turned weightless. He guessed her eyes glowed blue, but couldn’t tell; he was still too caught up in a faceful of bustline. “Now, carry me over to the other end. Won’t float off like this – on my own, holding still’s like trying to balance on less than one foot.”

“Uh huh.” Maximum didn’t trust himself to say anything else. He put his arms more fully around Dynamo Dame and carried her alongside the wall.

She kept attaching the banner as they went, until she had the other end stuck to the wall. “And there.” With that, she turned off her talent. She still wasn’t terribly heavy, but the surprise weight almost pulled her from his arms. He only caught her just under the shoulders, a height which put them face-to-face again. The sense of weight made it feel real, emphasising that he was holding a live, squirming superheroine in his grasp. She planted a kiss on his cheek. “Big help. Thanks a bunch.”

“Any time.” It took him a second, but he remembered to set her back onto her feet. Now her chest didn’t put itself right in his face, his gaze settled instead on her friendly, smiling lips. He couldn’t take his mind off how soft they’d just felt on his cheek. Frozen dolls didn’t make good kissers, but Dynamo Dame was a different beast.

Dammit, why did she draw him like that? He’d already had her. Why did it matter so much if she wasn’t frozen? Why did her attitude make so much difference, dial his desires so much higher?

She hip-checked him to bring him back to reality and jerked her chin upwards. “What do you think?”

That gave him something to focus on. He took his eyes off her. The sign shouted ‘CONGRATULATIONS’, each letter a different colour. “It’s pretty generic,” he said. “But not like we could get more specific, right?”

Dynamo Dame leaned on his side, warm and casual. “It’s not like you can get a banner of ‘congrats on the big bust’.”

“You could have used a party like that.” It just slipped out of Maximum’s mouth.

And Dynamo Dame just grinned. “Oh, you noticed, huh?” She cupped and squeezed her own breast. “Got ‘em freshman year. Worth every penny, don’t you think?”

Did she really just invite him to comment on her chest? “I’m not an expert or anything.” Not that he’d ever admit to, anyway. The whole point of freezing time and sneaking around was so she didn’t know.

She took his meaning in another direction. “Oh?” Her fingertips flirted with her top’s hem. “Are you saying you need another peek before you can tell?”

Despite the offer, Maximum stared into her face. With that impish smile on her face, he couldn’t tell whether she was just teasing him or completely serious. The latter thought stirred him until it was almost painful. He could see her any time, sure, but it seemed so much more potent if she showed him.

He didn’t get to find out if she was serious either. Right then, the elevator doors opened and out came Adonis and Valkyrie. “Dude,” Adonis said, taking in the scene with a grin. “What’s all this?”

Maximum knew he wasn’t asking about his flirting with Dynamo Dame. The moment had passed, dammit, again. Maximum pushed those thoughts under the rug. “It’s exactly what it looks like.” He indicated the whole room with an extravagant wave of his arms. “It’s a party! We kicked Grimaldi ass last night. We all deserve a chance to pat ourselves on the back, right?”

Adonis pointed at the sound system. “Swap that for something with more rocks in it, and I’m in.”

Maximum smiled to himself as he went to the stereo. So far, so good. He skipped a few tracks ahead, to the real music. “How’s this?”

Adonis answered without speaking: he was already dancing, spinning around in the middle of the room.

Valkyrie wasn’t so easy to sway. She walked right past, heading for the hallway, without even a shift in the rhythm of her stride. “You guys have fun. I’ve got other plans.”

Dynamo Dame chased after her, pouting. “Hey, what’s the rush?”

“There’s no way we caught the whole shipment.” Valkyrie paused at the doorway to an armoury. “I’m going back to the beach to wait for the other shoe to drop. We don’t have anything to celebrate yet.”

“The hell we don’t.” Maximum stopped time, grabbed the stepladder, and put himself eye-to-eye with Valkyrie before he unpaused – a little pseudo-teleport for effect. “You did great work last night. The way you and Adonis beat down that strongman? Kick ass. Maybe you’re right; maybe there’s still work to do. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some recognition for the work you’ve already done.” He nodded over her shoulder. “And that goes for both of you.” Not that Adonis needed convincing.

Valkyrie paused, a conflicted look on her face. She didn’t want to give up on her plan, but the praise tempted her; he could see the flattered look in her eyes.

Adonis’ laughter called their attention back to the main room. “Check it.” He held up a bottle from the snack bar.

Valkyrie blinked. “Is that ... pineapple soda?” She broke into giggles, turning to look at Dynamo Dame. “Your idea, right?”

“I remembered.” Dynamo Dame gave Maximum’s confused look an apologetic smile. “You had to be there.”

Maximum brushed it off. “Whatever. How about this: we grab the important stuff to take with us, and we just move the whole thing to the beach. Then you can still keep an eye out without missing out on the fun.”

Dynamo Dame oohed. “Beach party! You’re even dressed for it already.” She groped Valkyrie’s chest through her bikini top – a quick squeeze, there and done.

Valkyrie batted her hand away, but more like Dynamo Dame’s touch was a vague annoyance and not something she actually minded.

Maximum had to wonder just how casual and handsy she was, if Valkyrie was already that used to it. And what he’d have to do to get that kind of blithe, permissive response. Those images were going to dance in his head for a while, he could tell.

“Hey, that’s not my fault...” Valkyrie huffed, but smiled in spite of herself. “Fine, fine. What do you need me to carry?”

4 Maximum

They trimmed down to just a cooler of drinks and a portable stereo, the party’s essence, plus a couple of towels. Adonis and Valkyrie got it all to the beach in one trip. Maximum, as the only one who couldn’t fly, had to let Adonis carry him. That discomfort was over in a few minutes, as they touched down on the beach. Mid-afternoon as it was, the beach had plenty of visitors, but they gave the Vigilants all the space they needed.

Maximum kicked off the stereo right where they’d left off; Adonis broke it down with enough energy to kick up sprays of sand; and Valkyrie sat down on a towel with the drinks, still insistent on keeping an eye out ... but at least she did it with pineapple soda in her hand. Yet as minutes passed, one still lagged behind. Maximum looked up and around. “Hey, where’s—”

His sight went dark as hands covered his eyes. “Guess who.” The sing-song, feminine voice made it obvious, even aside from the protrusions he felt against his back.

“DD,” Maximum answered. He reached behind him to touch her shoulder. “What took you so long?”

“Change of venue, change of clothes.” Dynamo Dame took her hands away.

He took the invitation to turn and face her. She still had that wide band of a mask wrapped around her face; he got the feeling he’d never see her without it. But she’d discarded the whole costume, replacing it with a string bikini top and a set of tiny denim shorts, all in blue. Except for a few scant inches, her honey-tanned skin was all on bold display, all by her oh-so-casual choice. It took him a minute to pick his jaw up off the sand.

She put her hands on his shoulders, at ease holding him so close in her personal bubble. “I see you like it, but this isn’t a staring party. C’mon, let’s dance.”

He set his hands on her hips and started to move. Though he stepped in time with the music, his attention was much more on his partner than the actual dancing. “A staring party? How do I get invited to something like that?”

“It’s all spontaneous.” Dynamo Dame slid her arms farther, wrists resting at either side of his neck while her fingers laced together. “You’ve just got to be there, available, and looking cute when I’m in the mood to show off.”

“I’ll keep my schedule open.” His gaze kept dipping to her top. It cut so much lower than the crop-top she wore with her costume, and held her back so much less than whatever bra she’d been wearing; even her enhanced chest jostled with how they danced, pulling the bikini’s strings tighter. Yet, if she’d been serious before, that costume wouldn’t have lasted long either. “So ... where were we? Before the others came in?”

She gave him a swat on the shoulder, too light to be anything but playful. “I’m not going to do that here. I’d need a few drinks in me to be that shameless.”

He grinned back at her. “Rain check, then?”

She just smiled and kept on dancing.

5 Kismet

Kismet had made her plans. She’d arranged her assets. She had all her gear with her, stowed in pockets or attached at usable points. The boat knew to expect her text message as a signal to approach the shore. Eight runners waited, both on the beach and nearby, to grab the goods and scatter. If it were just beat cops on the beach, she had even odds of getting it done before they could do anything to stop her. And she was right there in an alleyway across from the beach, binoculars in hand to keep watch for anything unexpected.

So of course, most of the Vigilant Society was right there. Having a beach party.

Or at least, mostly partying. Valkyrie kept on alert the whole time, constantly scanning the beach and horizon for anything recognisably out of place. For all her looked like a breakdancing goofball, Adonis had his wits about him too. He was just as likely as Valkyrie to spot the boat coming in, if she just signalled.

But then there were Dynamo Dame and the new kid. She wasn’t even in costume. They just danced there, flirting. Kismet couldn’t remember the last time she’d flirted like she meant it. She tried not to think about it; if she remembered how far back it was, she’d just depress herself.

There was no sense in waiting. She had to just get it done. She signalled the boat to wait sixty seconds and dashed across the street, heading straight for four local superheroes.

6 Maximum

As they danced, Maximum kept his eyes on Dynamo Dame. Holding her so closely made his heart race, yet she acted like it didn’t matter at all. She fascinated him, taking up almost the entirety of his attention. He barely had a scrap left over for his peripheral vision.

But that was enough to notice something coming up from across the street, behind Dynamo Dame’s back. A figure all in black, moving fast. “Wait, who’s—”

That was all he managed to ask before the attack. The figure crossed the street in a blur and launched from the ground, the flying kick planting all her weight into Dynamo Dame’s back. It sent them both sprawling, kicking up sand, and momentum tumbled Dynamo Dame off him.

Pushing his shock aside, he scrambled back to his feet – just in time for the figure to be right there in his face. He ducked one punch and left himself open to another, the jarring impact leaving him stumbling backwards. He raised his arms to cover his head, but she was just too fast for him to keep up, let alone retaliate.

Too fast? As if. Maximum may have left his bat at the Beacon, but he still had himself. He dug inside and turned on his talent. The beach drew to a halt. Birds froze in mid-air; the tide’s salty spray paused in its cycle; the stereo went silent, with no time for the next beat to come. It felt like clenching a fist of willpower around the world, like pinning it all down through sheer force. Everyone around him was just a statue, subject to his whims.

Everyone except the dark figure.

While he gripped and froze everything else he could see, she felt like she was coated in oil and slipped from his grasp. It slowed her down to normal but no further. Only that gave him the time to recover from his shock and start fighting back. Even if it only slowed her down to baseline, that still left him better off than before. He skipped forward and swung.

His haymaker came far too slow. She ducked it and retaliated with two swift kicks: one to his midsection to push him back, then a sharper one snapping up into his jaw. Maximum had the strangest feeling that he’d been kicked in the head that way before.

While he reeled from that, she actually left him alone. It seemed remarkably nice of her, until the stars cleared from his vision and he saw what she was up to. She crouched over Dynamo Dame, cuffing her hands behind her back. Why didn’t Dynamo Dame resist? Why didn’t Adonis or Valkyrie do anything? Maximum’s heart sank when he realised: they were still frozen, still subject to the talent that their attacker just shrugged off. Ironic. He’d gotten better, he could keep his talent going even after taking a boot to the head, and it would be better to just turn it off and stay out of the way. So he did.

Dynamo Dame reacted first. “Wha—hey! Get off me!” She wriggled on the ground, but too late: she was already cuffed. Her eyes glowed and skin crackled with electricity, but the figure had already adjusted. She kept Dynamo Dame pinned just with the pressure of one apparently well-insulated boot.

As luck would have it, all the twists and turns put her back towards Adonis and Valkyrie. They rushed her at full speed. It was no time for chivalry: Adonis came in high with a clotheslining punch while Valkyrie swept low. Yet at the last second, she twisted and dived between their attacks, letting them whiff harmlessly above and below. What, did she have eyes in the back of her head? As the pair turned and pressed the assault, she kept dodging, weaving so that none of their attacks even came close. But, from what Maximum could follow, they had her on the defensive, focused on avoiding them. If they could get just one hit on her...

They didn’t get a hit on her. Worse, it wasn’t as one-sided as he’d thought. As the figure swooped low, Maximum heard clanking and gasping – and then realised she’d wrapped a heavy chain, padlock and all, around Valkyrie’s wrists and ankles. A quick push knocked her over, tangled her up, and took her effectively out of the fight.