Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required

Chapter 31: A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

Heaven.

As I race from the ones I care about most, I'm not sure who I am or what I'm pretending to be. All I know is my best friend—the one I swore I'd protect—will die. And I let it happen.

What am I supposed to do? Follow my heart? Turn back and stop Gats from doing the deed? Bull. I'm supposed to think of others. If Angelos were dead, so many people would be out of danger. Besides, this is what he wants. He asked me to kill him for a reason, and that isn't a request people make lightly.

"Get a grip," I tell myself. I ignore the pain in my chest and skid into a dark hall after the runaway crooks. Lights flick, and I thump down a set of steps. The heavy air presses against my skin, the stink of rot and mold thick in my nose.

I'm the city's guardian. I signed up for tough decisions, but not this. I never wanted Angelos to die. I choke on the knot in my throat, forcing myself to breathe. Heroes don't neglect their duties, and they certainly don't cry.

My prey slips behind a door. I should stop, think, plan, but I don't want to. Instead, I blindly follow, eyes burning from the black.

WHAM! The door slams shut. I shudder, grabbing my belt. Four villains. One me. They could've taken me in the hall...but...

Oh. Oh, shit! They baited me into a trap and I never put two and freaking two together! What am I? A superhero or a Disney Princess?

I spin, the swish of lasso snapping me out of my haze. Cord cracks around my shoulders, the constricting steel so tight it crushes the armor beneath. I flex, but the rope doesn't break. No time to think...

I raise my foot for a kick when another loop snares my ankles. God, oh, God. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to keep calm. "You mind?" How could I be so stupid? It's one of the oldest tricks in the book!

Whump. The second rope jerks, jolting my feet out from under me. I try to right myself in time, but nope, I land flat on my back. It's times like these I wonder if I'm equipped for this superhero garbage. I try not to overthink it, since I know the answer will inevitably be a no.

"So this is the girl who pushed around your organization?" a female voice asks, her words dripping with so much sass I'm half convinced she's Angel.

Angel. My chest tightens. "I'm right here," I say, snatching a fistful of the lasso at my feet. A loop of metal slips over my wrist and my cool evaporates. "What are you? Crazy? Let me go!"

Before this Angelos ordeal, I've never been captured. There have been attempts, sure, but they've never succeeded. For the record, being tossed around like a cursed damsel-in-distress sucks. I'm a hero, damn it! Not a plot device!

"Just a second," says the woman.

"Aren't you taking this a little too far?"

"Someone turn on a light!"

Click! 

The blast of white burns my eyes. The villain band crowds around me, and I'm half-tempted to shrink back. Instead, I glare. Behind them sit stacks of boxes and walls so green they remind me of decaying zombie.

A woman grins at me, her eyepatch shimmering under the artificial glow of environment-killing bulbs. Her red armor reminds me of my suit, and chills crawl up my skin at the sight if it.

She raises my cuffed wrist, dragging me across the room despite my kicking and thrashing. If my heart beat any faster my chest would explode. I glare at the floor, the group's eyes burning holes in my costume. Unless I can find a way to escape...

What do I have other than boxes to work with? The villain knocks away a few of the things from a wall, revealing two parallel rings hooked high on the painted brick. "What are―"