The next morning I'm awoken by the sound of tapping on my window. Groggily, my eyes flutter open and I turn to see a crow impatiently perched on my windowsill, a cream-colored envelope clutched in its beak. Tate.
I roll my eyes and crack the window open slowly, giving him time to fly back out of the way of the windowsill. Once he's inside and standing on the carpet, I close it with a bang and eye him suspiciously.
"Really? You couldn't just knock on the door like a normal person?" I complain, but nevertheless I'm glad to see him. "I needed my sleep, you know," I continue when he doesn't reply. "I had a busy night." His little feathered head tilts and he fixates me with a glance of his beady eyes before he finally shifts into his human form and spats the envelope out onto the bedspread before me.
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't want to risk being seen," he says, running a hand through his thick black hair. "It's kind of important," Tate adds. He gestures to the envelope laying in front of me. When he continues to look at me expectantly, I slowly pick it up and tear it open with my thumb. There's a card inside, with a fancy wax seal and a thin red string holding it closed. As if the envelope weren't enough. I pluck that open and examine the flowing red script written on the card.
"Are you asking me to a ball, Tate?" I smirk slightly and glance up. His face is solemn, and he shakes his head.
You have been invited to the 23rd Annual Mischief Masquerade, the ink reads. Underneath is the date and the time (in three days,) but not the place. Strange.
"It's not just any ball, Maya. It's thrown by Reginald Ramsey. I think you've heard of him." At my stunned expression, he grimaces in understanding. "This is known as the Villain's Masquerade, unofficially. Only the worst of the worst can score an invite. It's actually pretty legendary. I can't believe you haven't heard of it."
"How'd you manage to get invited? What's the purpose of this masquerade anyway? And why isn't there a location listed on the invitation?" I flip the card, but there's nothing written on the back. Tate shoves his hands in the pockets of his black jeans.
"Well, I haven't gone official with my defection from the villain business yet, and Reggie still seems to think that we're friends. I'm not ready to make an enemy of him yet. Plus, this may come in handy. See, like I said, only the best (or the worst, I suppose) of villains are asked to come. Meeting all in one place is basically grounds for a lot of shady dealings going on. Weapons dealing, human trafficking, all that good stuff. This ball is Reggie's best kept secret. The location changes every year," he tells me. I frown.
"I don't get it. So how do people know where to go if he doesn't tell them?" I have a feeling I really don't want to know the answer.
"You... have to RSVP first. Then you get another letter, telling you where to go an hour before the party starts. It's usually someplace abandoned or not in use, like a construction site or an old subway tunnel. See, here's the thing: Reggie's hired teleporters. Lots of them. That's who takes you to the party venue. A teleporter. You don't know where you're going. He likes it that way. But after the party's over, the teleporters take you back home. It's a little sketchy, but... it's the only way to get in." Tate shrugs and looks up at the ceiling. My eyes narrow skeptically.
"And why exactly would we want to get in?"
"I think we can find Ivory there. He'd be in disguise, of course. But I think we can find him. I can take you as my escort there. You'd be masked- nobody would know who you were," he explains.
"You expect us to- what? Try and interrogate a teleporter who's also a master super-villain amidst a party of other top-notch villains who would kill us without batting an eye? Assuming he's actually there in the first place?"
"Oh, he'll be there. He comes every year. He's always in disguise, but I've spotted someone who strongly resembles him every time. He's an egoistical villain. When someone throws a party for the best of the best, you can bet he'll be there. And I don't exactly know what we'll do when we get there, but maybe we can find out some useful information. It's better than trying to go off of news clippings, right?" He gives me a sheepish but hopeful smile.
"You want me to go undercover in a villain masquerade ball thrown by my ex-boss who wants to murder me in a very painful way so I might be able to get some information from another psychopathic villain who happens to be extremely dangerous and has an immediate getaway plan while we're stuck in the middle of nowhere? It sounds a little risky," I say sarcastically. "I feel like you just want to act like a spy."
"I've always been a fan of novels about secret agents," Tate admits with a bashful smile. "But you always took me as someone who'd be willing to take risks. If you don't want to, I don't have to RSVP."
"I'll do it," I blurt. "But I thought you were retired? How does Alicia feel about you risking your life periodically for another woman?" I tease him. His pale face reddens slightly.
"I told her everything, and I'll have you know that she finds it very sexy that I'm such a badass," he retorts. I stick my finger in my mouth and pretend to gag. "She knows you're just a friend. Alicia's great." His dark eyes practically have little hearts reflected in them. Wow. Talk about a complete personality 180.
"Good for you," I say, hoping I sound sincere. "Really. I'm... happy for you," I add awkwardly. He tilts his head and his dopey grin fades a bit.
"You'll find someone someday, you know? Anyone would be lucky to have you, Maya," Tate insists. He must have noticed my obvious attempts at appearing non-belligerent.
"Yeah, whatever. I mean, thanks, but I don't need a guy anyway. I'm not some damsel in distress," I reply. He grins wider.
"That was never in question," he laughs. He glances at the thick black watch on his wrist. "I should get going. Alicia wants us to have brunch at this weird little Thai place downtown. Is there anything else you wanted to know?"
"Nope. You'll let me know once you get the creepy RSVP letter?" I'm not even going to ask how Reggie sends mail in that fast anyway. He probably hired a bunch of supers who can fly and send the letters for him. He's always had a bit of an obsession with "collecting" types of supers. I suspect that's part of the reason why Gia came into the picture. He wanted to bring together the illusionists. See how well that ended?
"Of course. You got a mask for the ball? It is a masquerade, after all." He shrinks back into his little bird form and hops up onto my bed, scooping the letter's remnants back in his beak and giving me a piercing glance with his beady eyes.
"I bet Dave and Ollie will be happy to help me make one. They're always lingering at craft stores. I think they're attracted to shiny objects," I joke. Tate's wings flutter and he lets out a loud caw, which I take to be his sort of a laugh. I open the window and he dips his feathered head before taking off. I watch him leave before closing the window behind him and turning back around. Well, that was an interesting start to the morning. And as crazy risky and dangerous as this ball sounds, I can't help but feel a little twinge of masochistic excitement. I've never been to a masquerade before, much less one especially for top-notch villains, and obviously never undercover. And, hey- even if this fails, hopefully I'll be able to have some epic hors d'oeuvres. I expect a lot from a fancy ball thrown by Reginald Ramsey himself.
Delores hisses softly in the cage still in its now permanent spot on the seat of the rocking chair in the corner of the room.
"Hey, darlin'. Sorry about the strange bird-guy. But you're probably used to my weird by now, aren't you?" I pull the covers aside and crawl over to the edge of the bed so I'm looking down at her. "I think I have a great idea for a mask," I say, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and walking over to her. I reach my hand into the cage and stroke her smooth rosy scales. She winds herself lovingly around my hand. "You're really going to like it," I assure her. Her tail waves in reply.
Someone raps softly on my door and I pick up Delores, cradling her to my chest with one hand and opening the door with the other. A sleep-rumpled Dave stands in the hallway, rubbing his eyes and looking confused.
"Did I hear a crow cawing in your bedroom?" He yawns and glances down at Delores, who writhes happily around my fingers.
"Tate just came by. He invited me to a masquerade thrown by Reggie for the world's best villains. Ivory might be there and I'm going undercover. Long story. But I'm going to need a mask," I explain. Dave blinks slowly, not completely understanding but nodding anyway.
"Sure. Villain masquerade," he mumbles. "That's completely normal. How about you explain to me after I get some caffeine in me, 'kay?"
"Did somebody say masquerade?" Ollie pokes his blonde head out of their bedroom doorway, looking wide awake.
"Let's make some coffee," I grin.
:
Dave and Ollie manage to convince me that I need to include Taylor in on this. I disagreed vehemently at first, but eventually they won me over because they're Dave and Ollie. I have to admit that it would be helpful to have another person backing me up in case something goes wrong. Plus, it is her ex that I'm trying to scope out at this ball. It would only be fair to include her. She must be going as crazy as I am trying to find out some more information on Dominic. He's her son.
So they drop me off a block away from Taylor's house with dorky grins on their faces. They've spent the last ten minutes telling me how much of a "hero" I am, because they know how much I hate it. I'm almost happy to escape from the car and out onto the sidewalk. They give me encouraging waves through the windows as I walk away, quickly cloaking myself.
The street is ominously silent. There's not even a single bird in the sky. I can't help but feel like something's wrong. The feeling only increases when I come up to Taylor's address and find that her house is dark and seemingly empty. But I am determined. I didn't make this big decision to include Taylor in on this only to discover that she doesn't want company. I walk up to the front steps and knock on the door, only to find it creaks open. Creepy.
"Taylor? It's Angel. Y'know. The person who you ambushed in the alley last night. Listen, it's kind of important," I call softly. At first the only thing to answer me is silence. And then I hear the hoarse, cracked whisper.
"Guardian Angel? Is that you?" It's not Taylor who answers me. I hesitantly open the door further to see a tear-stained Marie sitting down on the living room rug, knees drawn to her chest and her face a mirror of terror and disbelief. Around her crumpled form, Taylor's home is in ruins. The coffee table is knocked on its side. A painting lays torn on the ground, ripped from its hook on the wall. Both armchairs are tipped over onto each other, desperately holding one another up. The rug is all twisted like someone tripped on it. A once-beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling overhead is now smashed into pieces on the ground. I feel a lump forming in my throat. I'm almost afraid to speak. I decloak and kneel down slowly, my boots crunching in the layer of broken glass littering the ground.
"Where's Taylor? Please tell me you had a psychotic breakdown after a big argument with her and then destroyed her house," I beg. She shakes her head, not even looking up. Her eyes are hollow and her normally plump face looks almost gaunt.
"She wasn't answering my texts or my calls a few hours ago, and I thought maybe her phone was dead so I came here. I was a little worried, obviously, but I didn't think anything of it until... I saw everything. And that's not even the worst part." She shifts aside and gestures her hand to a dark red patch on the white carpet that I really hope isn't blood. It looks fresh. "I think something bad's happened to her," she chokes out. She swallows hard as more tears run down her face. "I-I didn't believe you when you said she was in danger. I was wrong."
"Do you believe me when I say I think Ivory did this?" I ask in a hushed voice, pushing aside the sick bottomless pit of dread forming in my stomach. I can't let myself think about what happened here. All I can do is find a way to get her and Dominic back.
"I don't know. But you have to help her," Marie replies tearfully. Her finger traces the outline of the patch of blood on the perfect white carpet. "Please. I'm sorry for being a jerk before. You have to understand- I'm the only one she has left."
"No. She has me. I'll help find her. I have an idea where I may be able to find Ivory," I insist. She gazes up at me with hopeless shining eyes.
She says, "And if that doesn't work?" She wants to believe me, I think. But who can really trust the woman who won't show her true face?
"I don't know," I reply honestly. It's no comfort to me, and it certainly isn't to her, but it's the truth. "I'll have to get help." Even if that's my least favorite thing to do.
"What can I do?" she asks me earnestly. She staggers up to her feet and when I reach out to help balance her, she swats my hand away.
"Be on the watch for a man in white," I say, only half kidding. Her glistening eyes widen and her shoulders tense.
"Do you think he'll try to come for me too?" Marie looks like she's about to pass out. And not to be rude, but I'm not sure I can catch her if she does.
"I don't think so." This is the only reassurance I can give her. Because, really, what do I know? I'm way in over my head. This masquerade ball is my last shot. I better find myself a mask.
YOU ARE READING
Super?
Adventure"Stop pretending to be an idiot, idiot." Ouch. It burns. "You're starting to sound like a dear old friend of mine," she adds, her tone implying that her "friend" isn't so much of a "friend" as a mortal enemy who she probably also dragged into an all...
