For a moment, I can't breathe. It's like all the air has been sucked out of the hallway, leaving nothing but the oppressive weight of Mudslide's presence. His face, wrapped in that ridiculous brown paper bag mask, is inches from mine, close enough that I can smell the stale cigarette smoke on his breath. I take an instinctive step back, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure he must be able to hear it.

For the first time, I can see his facial features. Greying stubble. A chin that could cut glass.

He looms over me, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. He's wearing a suit, but not like the ones the other Kingdom goons are wearing. His is nicer, tailored, the kind of suit you wear when you want to impress someone. Or intimidate them.

"I asked you a question, Small," he says, his voice deceptively mild. "What are you doing here?"

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," I stammer, my mind racing. How did he recognize me? I look completely different! Did I not do as good a job as I thought?

Mudslide's lips curl into a sneer. "Don't play dumb with me, Small. I'd know that self-righteous little face anywhere. Even if you've dolled yourself up like some two-bit hooker."

My mind races, scrambling for an excuse, a lie, anything. But I'm coming up blank. All I can think is that I'm trapped, cornered by a man who can turn solid ground into quicksand with a touch.

"I was just leaving," I manage to croak out, trying to edge around him. But he sidesteps, blocking my path.

"Not so fast," he says, his smile widening. "You and I have some unfinished business, don't we?"

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Look, Mudslide," I start, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't want any trouble. I was just-"

"Just what?" he interrupts, taking a step closer. I instinctively take a step back, and feel my heel sink into the floor. I look down and see that the tiles around my feet have turned to mud, sucking at my shoes like quicksand. "Just snooping around where you don't belong? Just sticking your nose into Kingdom business?"

I try to pull my feet free, but the mud holds fast. Shit. Shit shit shit.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, trying for bravado. But even I can hear the tremor in my voice. "I'm just here for the music. And the overpriced drinks." I crack a smile, though I doubt it's very convincing.

Mudslide laughs, a harsh, grating sound. "Do you think I'm stupid, Small? Do you think I don't know exactly who you are, even in that ridiculous getup?"

I bristle at the insult, anger momentarily overriding my fear. "Fuck you," I spit before I can stop myself.

"Careful, little girl," Mudslide says, his voice low and dangerous. "I can bury you ten feet deep in this concrete before you can even blink. Now, why don't you tell me what you're really doing here?"

I swallow hard, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "I told you, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just here for a good time, same as anyone else."

He laughs, a harsh, grating sound that sends chills down my spine. "A good time? In the back offices of the club? Try again, Small. I'm not as stupid as you seem to think I am."

"Fine. You want to know so bad? I'll tell you," I say, clenching my entire body up, twisting and wiggling my toes. Slowly, deliberately, I reach up to my ear. Mudslide tenses, his eyes tracking my every move. I pull out my earpiece, holding it up between us. "You know what this is?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Mudslide eyes it suspiciously. "Some kind of hearing aid? Didn't realize you were deaf."

I shake my head. "GPS tracker. The Delaware Valley Defenders know exactly where I am right now. And if anything happens to me..." I let the implication hang in the air.

For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Mudslide's face. Then his eyes narrow again. "You're bluffing."

I raise an eyebrow, channeling every ounce of false bravado I can muster. "Am I? You really want to take that risk? Because I can guarantee you, if I don't check in within the next five minutes, this place is going to be swarming with heroes. And I don't think your bosses would be too happy about that, would they?"

As I'm talking, I'm slowly, carefully working my feet inside my shoes. If I can just get them loose enough...

Mudslide's jaw clenches. I can almost see the gears turning in his head as he weighs his options. "Why would the Defenders send you in here alone? That doesn't make any sense."

I force a laugh. "Who said I was alone? My partner's out in the club right now. Seven feet tall, brown hair, built like a stick figure? Hard to miss." Thank god for Connor's perfect timing earlier.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Mudslide's eyes widen slightly, and then narrow. "The contortionist," he mutters.

I nod, pressing my advantage. "Exactly. So you see, harming me would be a very, very bad idea. For you and for the Kingdom. Now, why don't you let me go, and we can both pretend this little encounter never happened?"

He stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The mud around my feet has stopped rising, but it hasn't receded either. I hold my breath, waiting. His expression is totally unreadable. Then, slowly, he reaches out and plucks the "hearing aid" from my hand, examining it closely.

"Interesting," he murmurs, turning it over in his fingers. "Very interesting."

I hold my breath. Okay, Sam, stay cool. Don't let him see you sweat. Which is hard, because I'm definitely sweating. A lot.

Just as I'm starting to wonder if he's somehow figured out my bluff, he looks back up at me, his eyes hard.

"So let me get this straight," he says, his voice cold. "You're telling me that you, a lone teenage superhero, decided to infiltrate a notorious criminal organization's base of operations, with only one backup, who just happens to be a known ex-villain. And now you expect me to believe that the DVD, the same organization that has been trying and failing to take down the Kingdom for years, is suddenly going to come riding to your rescue if I don't let you go. That about sum it up?"

Well, when he puts it like that. It does sound pretty implausible. But then, I knew my gamble was only gonna get me so far. I always knew a few of them. It can't always going to come down to a battle of wits. I have to figure out some way to slip out of my shoes without getting caught. I can't stand around here arguing forever.

I try to swallow, but my throat is so dry it hurts. "That's about the size of it, yeah," I say, trying for a nonchalant tone. Like this is all just a big misunderstanding, a funny story we'll laugh about later. "So why don't you just let me go, and we can both forget this ever happened. No harm, no foul, right?"

For a moment, Mudslide just looks at me. Then he laughs, a dark, humorless sound that sends chills down my spine.

"No harm, no foul," he repeats, shaking his head. "Samantha Small, do you enjoy lying?"

For some reason, the question makes my chest hurt. My ankles twist slightly as I lean forward, straining against the liquefied tile. "Fuck you," I spit back, but it lacks bite.

Mudslide's smile fades, his expression turning hard. "You've got a mouth on you, Small. I can respect that. But respect only gets you so far in this world. Sooner or later, you're going to have to learn to watch your tone. Especially around your betters. Let's say I do believe you. That still doesn't explain what you're doing back here. What are you looking for?"

I hesitate, my mind racing. I can't tell him the truth, obviously - that I'm here to bug the whole place to kingdom come. But I need to give him something plausible. "Information," I say finally. "We know the Kingdom is planning something big. We're just trying to figure out what it is before anyone else gets hurt."

Mudslide's eyes narrow. "And you thought you'd just waltz in here and find it all laid out for you? You really are as naive as you look."

I shrug, trying to look nonchalant despite the fact that my heart is still pounding a mile a minute. "Worth a shot. Besides, it's not like you guys have been particularly subtle lately. Maya Richardson? Really?"

I see his jaw clench. His face darkens. "You think you're so clever, don't you? You have no idea what's really going on. No idea at all."

I raise an eyebrow. "Then enlighten me. What am I missing?"

For a moment, I think he's going to take the bait. But then his expression hardens. "Nice try, kid. But I'm not that easy to manipulate. Dump out everything in your purse," he says, his voice cold and flat. "Give me your earpiece. And after I break all your little recording devices, I'm going to shoot you in the fucking face. I don't care anymore. You've crossed the line, fucked with me and mine for the last time."

My heart stops. He's not buying it. He's calling my bluff. My blood runs cold. This isn't how this was supposed to go. I open my mouth to protest, to try another angle, but he cuts me off.

Slowly, carefully, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a gun. A real gun, not a taser or a tranq pistol. The barrel gleams dully in the dim light of the hallway, pointed straight at my head.

"Move nice and slow," he orders, his finger tightening on the trigger. "No sudden moves, or I decorate the wall with your brains. Understand?"

I nod, my mouth too dry to speak. With shaking hands, I reach for my purse, never taking my eyes off the gun. I have to play along, at least for now. I have to make him think he's won, that I'm beaten.

A plan. I need a plan. Come on, Sam, think. You've gotten out of tighter spots than this before. You can do this. You have to do this.

But my mind is blank, my thoughts scattering like leaves in a hurricane. All I can see is the barrel of that gun, the cold, merciless look in Mudslide's eyes. He's going to kill me, whether I comply or not. The only difference is the timing.

As I slowly open my purse, my eyes dart around, looking for something, anything I can use. Underneath piles of change and folded-up notes from school, I have my tiny stash. The world's smallest first aid kit. The world's smallest can of mace. The world's smallest little tazer.

It's not much. But it's all I have.

In one smooth motion, I kick off my shoes, feeling the faintly prickly sensation of the tile twisting around my feet. I grab the can of mace, my thumb finding the trigger almost on instinct. I don't hesitate, don't give Mudslide time to react. I just aim and spray, straight into his face. He's nearly as tall as Connor, it feels like. It's like graffiting a skyscraper.

He screams, the sound raw and animal, his hands flying up to claw at his eyes. The gun goes off, the report deafening in the close confines of the hallway. White-hot pain lances through my upper arm as the bullet tears a deep furrow in the meat of my shoulder, and I feel a warm gush of blood, soaking into the sleeve of my jacket.

But I don't stop. I can't stop. I lunge forward, my teeth growing out of my hands, and rip Mudslide's cheek clean open, the thick snarl of flesh slapping down onto the bone. I drop the mace and grab the taser, jamming it into his neck and pulling the trigger.

It's not anything like a police-order taser. It's small. It's portable. It's designed for self defense, for civilians against superhumans. It won't put anyone on the floor for more than a couple of seconds, but that's all I need.

The gun goes off again, but this time it's wide, the bullet embedding itself in the wall behind me. It drops from his spasming fingers, clattering to the ground. I shove him, hard, sending him sprawling back into the wall with a heavy thud. Then I'm running, grabbing for my dropped purse with my good arm and sprinting down the hallway as fast as my shaking legs will carry me.

Behind me, I can hear Mudslide roaring, his voice choked with pain and rage. "SMALL!" he bellows, the sound echoing off the close walls. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU HEAR ME? YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!"