"Are you ready for this?" Tate grabs my hand and gives me an assuring smile, but it doesn't do anything to ease the anxiety eating away at my stomach. "Your mask looks pretty cool," he says instead. It is pretty cool, if I do say so myself. It looks like a typical Mardi Gras mask, but instead of being made out of green or purple plastic, it has red and white mottled scales that look like snakeskin. It matches my red dress, and is pretty much an ode to Delores. I've illusioned my hair into a bright, fiery red color, and my eyes to match. Basically, I look creepy and dangerous. An untouchable combination.
"Dave and Ollie helped," I reply distractedly. I lick my dry lips and glance around. We're standing in the crumbling parking lot of a long-closed grocery store. That's where the letter told us to go.
"They're going to ask for your name. For the party," he informs me. He doesn't even look nervous at all, but I can't very well see his face behind his smooth black mask. I'd like to think he's at least a little bit as uneasy as I am. We're both dressed as exactly as we were the other night, but this time with masks. And I don't think this ball will be as carefree and fun as that night was, obviously.
"Rose," I tell him with a smirk lighting on my face. "Rose Böuh." Rosy boa. How suiting. He grins in return.
"You are an odd one, Maya. You know that?" He sees the worry etched into my face and squeezes my hand tighter. "Look, you'll be fine. Just be the badass you always are and nobody will bat an eye." He glances at his watch. "The teleporter should be here any-"
A flash of light interrupts his sentence, and standing before us as the light fades is a tall woman with a full grey face mask and a grey chiffon ballgown. She has weirdly white hair in a long plait down her shoulder. What a depressing color combination. But I suppose you'd expect that from a villain. They're kind of known for that.
"Tate Perron and guest?" Her silver eyes give us a once-over. I can't tell if she looks suspicious of me or not. It's kind of hard to tell because, again, she's wearing a mask that covers her entire face.
"Ghost, this is Rose Böuh," Tate introduces me. He doesn't even seem fazed by the woman, whose name is presumably Ghost. The teleporter gives us both a curt nod and offers out her arm for us. Tate places his hand on Ghost's elbow and gestures for me to do the same. I hesitantly reach forward and touch her arm. She doesn't say anything, and all of a sudden I feel like all of my bones are shrinking. The world around us turns into a whirl of color and within a second it's over and we're standing in a beautifully landscaped lawn. My legs feel wobbly, like I'm a newborn fawn. Tate smiles at my bewildered expression. Ghost gives us a curt nod and silently strides away.
"That was weird," I manage to say. I look up and my breath is once again taken away. Before us is a massive, ornately-decorated medieval-looking grey stone castle. It looks like something out of a fairytale. It would almost be beautiful if I didn't know that it was the site of a ball for the wickedest villains of all time. That kind of detracts from its charm. Tate follows my gaze.
"Pretty impressive, huh?" We both watch as another teleporter brings in a couple of villains. They're both wearing military green and have matching dark green hair. Wow. Some people really takes the phrase "twinsies" to another level. They stride up the steep stone staircase leading up to the castle's gates, where they exchange a few brief words with some heavily-armed guards at the entrance before walking inside through the enormous stone doors. The grass is such a vivid green that it almost hurts to look at. Aggressively colorful flowerbeds line the walls. Ivy creeps up the turrets of the castle. It all seems so fake.
"Where the hell are we?" I look around, but we're literally smack dab in the middle of a clearing in an evergreen forest. The only thing that isn't either a pine tree or something medieval is a thin, overgrown dirt road leading into the dark mass of trees. My overactive imagination half-expects to see a werewolf with gleaming ruby-red eyes watching us from the tree line.
"Who knows? We could be in Europe or Canada or halfway across the world. Reggie likes to keep us guessing. But it is rather chilly here," Tate says. He shivers. "Let's go inside, yeah?" I nod and he offers me his elbow. I roll my eyes but link my arm through his anyway. I have to keep up appearances, right? We stride across the perfectly manicured lawn. I feel like the polar opposite of Cinderella. Instead of walking up to the castle's gates to find her prince and live happily ever after, I'm trying to find a villain and take him down. When we've finally made our way up the sprawling stone staircase, we're greeted by two men who look exactly like bodyguards with biceps bigger than my thighs and thick black shades hiding their eyes.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Tate says coolly, sliding into his Crow persona as easily as putting on a slipper. (I have to stop making Cinderella references.)
"I am Rose Böuh," I introduce myself, adopting a thick German accent. Kudos to Gia for that one. "I come from Hamburg. Crow here is my escort." I toss my red hair over my shoulder and bat my blood-colored eyes.
"Of course, madam. Right this way." The guard's face doesn't change, but he opens the door for us whether he suspects I'm lying or not. We hastily make our way through, stepping into the enormous ballroom.
"Holy shit. This place is insane," I whisper to Tate. The ceiling is ridiculously high and the room is enormous, the floor a mosaic featuring swirls of color inset in the stone. Little balconies overlook the room from above, a few couples linger and watch. Little chairs and tables are set in a ring around what I take to be the "dance floor." There's a giant banquet table laden with delicious-smelling food on the other side of the room. An entire orchestra plays soft classical music from a low stone stage between the branching staircases above. Already the castle is full of masked villains, who either waltz and talk to each other in low voices, or mingle near the food. It would look almost like a classical masquerade; however, I have no doubt that their conversations are centered more on drug trafficking and the like rather than the selection of food and the romance in the air. "Are you sure he hasn't hired time-travelers, too?" I joke. Tate smiles.
"Who knows with Reggie? Hey, look! There he is," Tate points across the room. Sure enough, a gangly masked man with impeccable hair stands beside a beautiful woman with a white and silver ballgown.
"Who's he with?" I inquire. Tate shrugs and beckons for us to get closer. We make our way across the dance floor and over to the orchestra where Reggie and the woman are talking and holding half-filled wine glasses. The woman takes a sip of the bubbling pale yellow drink and meets my gaze. She has unnaturally blue eyes. I know those eyes.
"Crow, my friend!" Reggie whines, slinging an arm over Tate's broad shoulders as soon as we stop near them. "Who's this lovely lady?" he leers at me. The woman in the white ballgown won't stop glaring at me, and I can't help stare back.
"This is Rose Böuh, from Hamburg," Tate says, pulling me closer to him whether he realizes it or not. His lips are pressed thin together, and that's when I know how much it bothers him to be here. He's been trying so hard to separate himself from this world, and he's making an exception for me.
"Funny. I come from Germany, too," the masked woman replies, outstretching her hand for me to shake. "I'm Gia. Gia O'Neill. But people know me better as Diamond," she grins widely to reveal those same glistening sharpened teeth. I slowly shake her hand, feeling my skin prickle with revulsion. She's the woman who made us all believe that I killed a six year-old boy. She created his death. She's one of the most disgusting people I've ever met. And that's saying something.
"You're a jewel thief, yes? It's a pleasure to meet you. I've always appreciated those who appreciate beauty," I gush. The words feel like poison coming from my throat. It's killing me to play nice with these two. I already want to strangle them and run. However, I'm kind of in the middle of nowhere with no way to escape. I have to keep my cover.
"And what is it exactly that you do, Ms. Böuh?" Reggie asks me, sipping his drink as well. A tuxedoed waiter walks by, and Tate snatches us a pair of drinks as well. When he hands it off to me, I can feel his hands trembling slightly. I meet his eyes and give him an encouraging nod. He smiles weakly back.
"Well, I dabble in all sorts of business. Most recently I've acquired control of a drug cartel in South Africa. They specialize mostly in heroin. Other than them, I've had a few weapons dealers under my thumb but I like to keep a low profile. You know how it is," I smile. "Or maybe you don't. You seem to have made quite a name for yourself. This is a lovely ball. It must have cost you millions," I say. I take a long drink of the champagne and maintain eye contact with Reggie. He looks slightly uncomfortable.
"Yes... well... Merely pennies," he coughs dismissively. "Forgive me, I don't believe I've heard your last name before. Böuh, was it?" Gia's sharp eyes settle on me also.
"My family is one mostly of plain civilians. As I said, I like to keep a low profile. I make less enemies that way," I reply innocently. Reggie's eyes narrow but before he can say anything else, a guard trudges up to him and murmurs something in his ear.
"Forgive me, I have other business to attend to. It was nice speaking to you both," he tells us with a thin smile on his face. Then he trots off, leaving Gia standing there alone. She doesn't seem to mind. If anything, she looks slightly relieved that he's gone. There's one thing we can both agree on.
"How have you been, Crow? Last I heard, you were fading out from the villain business. I'm surprised Reggie invited you here. You're lucky," Gia comments, batting her thick eyelashes behind her silver half-mask.
"Lucky," Tate repeats flatly. He sets his empty wine glass on a free corner of the banquet table and readjusts his grip around my elbow. "It was lovely seeing you again," he tells Gia in a tone that suggests otherwise. With that Tate pulls me away in a determined direction up the stairs. I stumble to keep up with him.
"What's up?" I hiss in his ear as we charge up the steps. He stops, his nostrils flaring as he lets out a long breath.
"I think I saw Ivory. Up there," he murmurs, using his free hand to point up at one of the doors to the balcony up on the next floor. My heart pounds faster and I try not to trip in these blasted high heels as we speed up the long flight of stairs. Finally we make it onto the landing. A long hall disappears into darkness, leading further into the castle. That's where Tate leads us.
"Woah, woah. Let's not go charging into the very ominously pitch-black hallway, okay?" I pull him to a stop. "We're literally just begging to get ambushed and beaten to death by a mob of angry villains if we interrupt some criminal-talk. That's not how I want this night to end. So how about we be all stealthy and quiet like regular undercover spies? He's not going anywhere."
"He's a teleporter, Maya," he reminds me flatly, his dark eyebrow artfully arched. He jerks his arm free of mine and looks about ready to go sprinting headfirst into trouble again.
"Yes, well..." I trail off. "Just don't be a reckless idiot, is what I'm trying to say." I walk ahead of him and further into the hall, wishing I had Taylor's weird glowing hands to light our way. The deeper we walk, the more it gets harder to see. The only light is a thin seam coming from under a door up ahead. The same door to the room that has a door that leads out to the balcony. I can hear Tate's quick breaths behind me. He sounds like he wants to bust that door down and kick some butt. But he has to remember who exactly we're dealing with here. In an entire castle full of villains, we're the only heroes here. We are severely outnumbered, and if we pick a fight with one we pick a fight with everybody. Oh, and we have no getaway plan whatsoever. Call me a pessimist, but I don't like those odds. We're completely at the mercy of Reggie's teleporters here. They're our only way out.
"I got this," he tells me. His figure is visible in the small source of light coming from under the door. He steps ahead until we reach the door, and puts his face up to the door. Before I can ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing, his face completely goes into the door. I blink in disbelief as he draws his head back out again, like the wood is made out of water. "He's in there. With three other guys. None armed, but all presumably with powers," he informs me, his tone completely nonchalant. "I don't recognize them, though." When he turns and sees my widened eyes, he smiles. "Oh, and I can phase through things."
"No kidding," I scoff. "Good to know. Could you hear what they were saying?" He shakes his head. We both stand there, stumped. Then Tate glances at me with a Oh, duh look on his face.
"Can't you just make us invisible and I can phase us through?" He shrugs. I make a face. What would going through a door feel like? Probably really weird. But I don't see any other option. I give him a silent thumbs-up and quickly cloak us both. He grabs my hand and walks forward. We both slide through the door, and it feels simply like walking through jello or something. I squint against the bright light on the other side. We're standing in the room that leads out to the balcony. It's lit by fiery scones lining the walls. There's a few, old plush velvet armchairs huddled up in a circle. Seated in the armchairs are three men, just like Tate said. There's one man standing with his back to the others. He's wearing a white tuxedo and has an ornate white mask covering his whole face. (Hmm, I wonder who that could be...)
"With all due respect, you can't be that stupid!" one of the seated men says, his brown eyes narrowed in exasperation and his hands in the air like I'm so done. The white-clothed man turns around slowly, his arms folded across his chest. The man who spoke immediately shuts up and blanches.
"Abraham, what I do with my life is none of your business," Ivory hisses, his voice dripping with ice. "Understand?" He stands directly behind Abraham's armchair, and the brown-eyed man trembles visibly.
"Y-y-yes, of course," he stammers. His two companions don't seem amused. One is a man with a scruffy blonde beard and the other has a mask that covers one eye completely. When he removes the mask and rubs his face, he reveals where the same eye should be to be nothing more than a seam of scar tissue. He puts the mask back on and leans back.
"You can't just kidnap a superhero- whether or not she's your ex, Ivory," the one-eyed man reprimands him irritably. He doesn't seem at all afraid of Ivory's temper. He speaks to the super-villain like they're old friends.
They're talking about Taylor. He has Taylor for sure then. I can't tell if I'm relieved to discover the definite truth or not. Judging by the patch of blood in Taylor's home, I can't believe that he wouldn't hurt her, even if he is still in love with her in some twisted way.
"The public isn't going to look for her anyway. Haven't you seen the papers? She's over. After Reggie's little stunt, they're all convinced that she's some horrible, vain woman who would favor her image over her son's life. Nobody cares about her anymore," Ivory sniffs haughtily. I can feel rage starting to build in my blood. He's wrong. There are still people looking for her. And they're in this room right now.
I feel Tate tighten his grip on my hand, and I realize I had been making fists. Even though I can't see him, I know he must be looking at me and willing me to play it cool. So I take a deep, quiet breath and continue to listen.
"And the boy?" The one-eyed man lets out a long-suffering sigh and glances up at the ceiling. The fire casts a flickering orange light over his warped face.
"I'll have you know my son is thriving under my care, Barlow. He's also a very powerful teleporter, even at such a young age. He'll make an excellent heir to the name of Ivory in the event of my passing," he informs them. It's taking every ounce of self-restraint I have not to tackle his smug face to the ground. I can feel Tate stiffen beside me, also.
"And is he happy?" Barlow asks, scratching at his chin. Ivory frowns like Barlow's question is the most ridiculous in the world.
"Who cares if he's happy? He's my son. He belongs with me: his father," he scoffs, using way too much emphasis in his words. I had almost forgotten how much villains liked to speak dramatically. Barlow just rolls his good eye. I take him to be the voice of reason. I think I'd like him if he weren't friends with the man who kidnapped his son and his ex. He kind of lost me there.
"What's important," Ivory continues, "is that I have Taylor back with me. She's proving rather difficult to adjust, but I think I'll be able to make some progress. It's been a while since I've taken on a lover. She says she's learned the 'error of her ways' from when we last reconciled, but surely once she sees what I have to offer she will be more complying." His voice deepens. "Plus she is a rather alluring dame," he laughs. Barlow cracks a smile.
I find myself surging forwards, but Tate blindly reaches out and manages to grab both my arms, pulling me back and holding me close to him. I struggle momentarily before realizing he's just trying to help. I can't blow our cover yet. Not without more information on where exactly to find Taylor and Dominic. I can't lose my marbles just yet. But oh how I want to feel all the bones in his face crack underneath my fists, feel his blood wet on my skin.
Ok, so that sounded positively disturbing. Forgive me. It's just I'm going crazy listening to him talk about Dominic and Taylor like they're some sort of possession to be had, not people with thoughts and feelings. (Now who's using way too much emphasis?)
"Maybe you could bring her over sometime," the blonde-bearded man chuckles. Barlow and Ivory start to guffaw also. The first man, Abraham, just smiles nervously.
"She's a little feisty, but that just makes it more fun, hmm?" Ivory winks. I am so done with this shit. Screw getting information. They're not going to talk about where they're kept. They just want to talk about Taylor like she's some sex object. Like they can rape her and get away with it.
I hear Tate inhale sharply as I finally manage to tug free of his grasp. He moves for me, but I'm too fast. I lunge towards Ivory, still cloaked, and strike my knuckles across his face. He cries out out of pain and surprise, bending over slightly and holding his nose. The three men all rise, yelling and confused. I retreat backwards, and I bump into Tate. He grabs my arm and I can feel him pull me backwards towards the door. Then he takes off running. We slide through the door again (ugh) and race out into the hallway, our panting breaths the only noise in the otherwise still hallway, until the door flings open and I can hear their bewildered shouting to each other as they run after us.
"Go faster!" Tate hisses. I'm trying to, but goddamnit! I'm wearing high heels and a dress. We burst out into the light again and pound our way down the stairs. Ivory and his band of perverts are right on our tail.
"There's someone in this castle who's invisible and tried to assault me!" Ivory announces in his booming voice as he runs after me. All the villains meandering in the ballroom look up with shock painted on their faces behind the ornate masks.
Tate pulls me through the crowd, winding our way trough the fancy dresses and the suits so we don't run into them and announce our presence. I think we're going to make it all the way to the doors but all of a sudden a guard pops out of nowhere and we go careening into his muscular chest and both end up sprawled on the ground. With my concentration lost, our cloak fails and we're both visible. Luckily I manage to maintain my Rose Böuh disguise.
Tate grabs me and pulls me up beside him. A crowd of villains have gathered around us, blocking our exit. The guard's eyes are glowing. Like, literally glowing. Infrared vision. Damn it.
"Sorry, everyone. My date has both anger issues and a little history with our white-masked friend here. I tried to stop her but she couldn't help herself. Please forgive her. She didn't mean to start anything, I promise," Tate smiles nervously. I glare at Ivory, whose nose is still trickling blood.
"I've never seen her before in my life," Ivory grunts with disgust. Abraham hands him a handkerchief and he dabs delicately at his nose.
"Rose Böuh, Tate Perron," a young man steps forward from the crowd, greeting us. He has coke-bottle glasses and scruffy brown hair. Sebastian. Of course. "I'll take this from here," he addresses the gathering of villains before us with a polite smile. They all grumble and share suspicious glances, but eventually disband and go back to discussing criminal strategies and the like. They know he's basically Reggie's lapdog. If anyone messes with Sebastian, they mess with Reggie. And you do not want to mess with Reggie.
Ivory and his cronies still stand there, looking irked. Sebastian sees them and turns their way.
"I'll take care of it, sir," Sebastian says to Ivory a bit forcefully, but still maintains his easygoing smile. The white-masked teleporter grunts but eventually motions his goons away. The one-eyed man shoots me a curious glance over his shoulder before finally following his friend over to the banquet table.
Once everyone's out of earshot and the guard with the infrared vision has gone back to his post, Sebastian contends with us.
"Maya, what the hell are you doing here?" He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. Tate and I share a shocked glance.
"Um. How did you know it was me?" I murmur to him, trying to keep my voice low in case there are any people with "enhanced hearing" here. You never know. The freaking bodyguard had infrared vision.
"Please. Rose Böuh? I'm not an idiot. I've seen pictures of Delores on your lock screen of your phone. You're weirdly obsessed with that snake. It'd only make sense that you'd name your temporary identity after her breed. Plus your mask is snakeskin," he says, like it's only logical.
"Faux snakeskin," I correct him. "You figured out that the strange tall German woman with red hair and an escort who's a Goth super-villain- sorry, Tate- is a short blonde ex-villain back from your hometown who never even knew the name of this ball?"
"Deductive reasoning. You're here to get information from Ivory, right?" he asks nonchalantly. Tate's eyes widen. "What?" Sebastian seems insulted at our disbelief. "I'm a hacker. I've been doing my homework."
"Do you know where they are?" Tate growls, taking a threatening step towards the nerdy guy. He adjusts his glasses and returns Tate's gaze evenly. Wow. Reggie must've taught him a few things about intimidation techniques.
"Not yet," he says. "Ivory is too much of a mystery to try and get any information out of- I know that much. Even Reggie has no idea. I think it'd be better if you called in more brains on this one," he advises us.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask skeptically. He looks at me and a familiar smile twitches at his lips.
"You know I can hack TV channels, right?" Mischief lights in his eyes. I nod expectantly. He says, "What if I recorded a message of you asking all of the heroes around the country to look for him to help save Dominic and Taylor?"
"Me? Why would heroes want to help me?" I laugh a little, picturing heroes all around the nation watching the tiny blonde woman asking for help.
"You're the Guardian Angel, are you not? You're a fellow superhero now." He shrugs. Tate's eyebrows shoot up.
"Waitaminute. He knows you're the Guardian Angel?" he asks me in disbelief. Um. I didn't think he knew.
"It was supposed to be a secret," I reply, glaring at Sebastian. "I haven't told anyone besides Dave and Ollie. I don't know how Sebastian found out, but I think I'd appreciate it if he kept it a secret. Especially from certain psycho ex-bosses who might use it against me," I growl pointedly. "Speaking of which, you're kind of supposed to be a bad guy. And you've thwarted all attempts from people who've tried to help me. Why do you want to help me? Are you trying to get the girl or something? Because that's not happening. I swear, it's like you can't decide if you want to be good or bad." I roll my eyes to accentuate my point.
"I'll keep your secret," he promises me, and then hangs his head in mild embarrassment. "I know I must seem pretty bipolar, and I'm sorry. When I led Bloodhound away the other day it was because Reggie told me to. I have to keep up appearances. But I want to help you. I truly do. So if I can do this for you, I will. The only reason I'm working for Reggie is because he has the best connections and resources for information, hacking and otherwise. I'm only using him." He then smirks and adds, "And I don't want to 'get the girl.'"
"Fine. I'll email you a recording tomorrow. Let's just get home. I've already had enough of this party," I say, hearing the weariness creeping up in my voice but not really caring enough to conceal it.
"Ghost!" Tate calls out into the crowd. Without warning, a flash of light makes me startle and the woman in grey materializes before us. I yelp a little and stumble back.
"You've got to stop doing that," I gasp. Ghost's lips flash into a quirk smirk behind her mask before settling into her usual blank look. She holds out her arm and Tate and I grab on. The last thing I see before the world is sucked up into a whirl of color is Sebastian waving goodbye.
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...
