Super•Villainous

LIII

Flicker transported me, still blindfolded, an indiscernible distance through places unknown, stopping outside what I presumed must have been another door laced with the same material that comprised the impenetrable walls. That was the only explanation I could think of for why he didn't simply teleport us directly into the room. I wondered what made this place so different, because the only other doors in the Guildhall made to nullify superpowers that I knew of had been at the entry hall. Why keep a series of Super-proof doors hidden within the Guildhall itself? Who did they think was trying to get in here, when there ought to have only been their allies?

Or, rather, who did they think was trying to get out?

The blindfold boded ill. The mere fact that they saw it as a necessary precaution denoted a degree of suspicion on their part.

Where had I slipped up? Had Atticus talked? Had Ren read his mind?

At risk of sounding over-defensive, I snapped to Flicker, "I'm not under arrest, so you can't just take me places against my will!"

"A doctor will be with you shortly," he grunted with a hint of formality, pushing me into the room and dragging the thick door closed in the same motion.

I ripped away the fabric obscuring my vision and found myself alone.

And angry.

Throwing myself at the chilly, metal lined door, I shouted, "I don't need a doctor! I just - I just want to call my dads. I want to let them know I'm okay!"

But he was already gone.

*~*~*~*~*~*

True to his word, a doctor arrived within minutes. Despite pushing her way through the hurdle of middle age, she was surprisingly handsome, with dark hair, dark skin, and light, ochre eyes, though that wasn't what made her so striking.

I envied her steadiness, her confidence in her own placement within the world, especially at a time where I doubted everything - everything, that is, except my desire to find Atticus and get us both far, far away.

As anticipated, I was physically fine. I wasn't about to run any marathons, but that had never exactly been in the cards for me anyway.

Shortly after her departure, the door opened once more and five Supers poured inside: the Constable, Ren, Tempest, the weird mummified--looking Super who inexplicably hadn't tried to stop me from escaping the Guildhall alongside Atticus last time we'd met, and a female Elder graying at the temples whose name escaped me. They crammed into a space meant to hold half as many. The Constable seated himself across from me, while the others formed a crescent around the table to both his sides.

Eyeing them warily, I said, "This doesn't seem like a casual visit."

A charming grin broke across the Constable's face, and he folded his hands primly on the table between us. "So," he leaned in, almost conspiratorial, "how long have you known that Nightshade has been using you to heal himself?"

To my credit, I barely blinked, and my heart continued its steady beat. For the benefit of Ren's hidden mind reading, I kept my thoughts carefully quiet. Blank. Processing slowly.

The only one seemingly surprised by the news was Tempest. Having been carefully watching me, almost imploring me to spare him a glance, he whipped his head over to stare openmouthed at his superior.

"What?" he uttered. "No. No, if - if Lily had powers, I would know about–"

I put him out of his misery, addressing the Constable. "Not very long. Not before my most recent capture, anyway."

Excluding Tempest, they all looked to Ren, who nodded obligingly. I didn't think I was meant to notice, nor would I have, had I not already deduced his mindreading ability weeks ago and been watching for signs.