"Fuuuck," groaned Matthius. "You do this all the time?"

Crossing my arms meant agitating my shoulder, something the joint loudly protested. My patience for constant injuries continued to steadily dwindle, while my envy of Alpha healing only increased. "Yes."

"Both of you?" he heaved.

Elise rolled her eyes. "Just walk normally, Matty."

"Why would I ever do that? What a colossal waste of energy."

I glanced over at Jason. "Is he serious?"

"Well," he replied, "it's efficient."

Elise and I stared, though I did manage to pry my mouth open after a few beats.

"You aren't serious."

"If you could fly, why would you actually put all your weight on the ground?"

"You never properly walk?" I couldn't believe it.

"I mean..."

Matthius, with a dramatic lunge, staggered to a nearby chair and crumpled into it. In doing so, he drew the attention of several uniformed, confused onlookers.

The three of us joined him at the table. The cafe was quiet, as although this was the Sheath, most of my employees went home in the evening. Those still present either lived on-site or worked a night shift. None expected to see Novax lurching around in a hospital gown, complaining.

"I owe you an apology," he gasped at me.

I stretched my legs out under the table. "You will have to be a lot more specific."

"I cannot imagine how difficult it is for you to exist this way. You too, Mom."

"Mhm. Stop shouting. People are looking at us funny."

Jason frowned. "No, he has a point. It always amazes me that people can just... walk. For their entire lives."

"This agency spends seventeen million dollars every month fighting anti-Alpha extremists who insist you all benefit from undue privilege." I adjusted my watch. "That will no longer be the case, as they are absolutely right."

"Ha!" cackled Matthius. "You spent seventeen million dollars fighting internet trolls?!?"

"Quiet!" hissed Elise as a waitress made for our table. "People are looking."

"Black coffee, please," I told our waitress. "And a croissant. Toasted." I turned to Matthius. "Calvin Moon pledged twenty-two million dollars to the Alpha Protection Program after a family of seven were burned alive for living in a small town with glowing eyes. I reduced it after we got the government to scare the loudest zealots off."

"Do you have burgers?" he asked our waitress.

She frowned. "We're a cafe."

He frowned in confusion. "So?"

"We do not have burgers."

"Okay." He studied the menu. "What's this thing?"

She leaned over and squinted. "A bagel with egg and cheese."

"Is it good?"

"Do you like egg and cheese?"

Matthius looked at Elise, who rolled her eyes and pointed further down the menu. "Give him the ham and cheese."

"I don't want ham," argued Matthius.

"Do you want eggs?"

He thought about it. "I'll take the ham and cheese."

The waitress sighed. "And you, Mr. Prime?"

He wasn't in uniform, just a large checkered shirt and bleached jeans. The woman didn't look comfortable using his actual name, though.

"Coffee. Three creams and a sugar."

"Peppermint tea, please," said Elise. "And add another two sandwiches to our order. Same one." She paused. "Orange juice, too."

The woman jotted down our requests while nodding, then headed back inside.

"I don't want another one, though," pointed out Matthius.

"Yes, you do. And if you don't, your father can eat it."

Jason looked up from the table, grimacing slightly as he jostled his shoulder. His fingers and tissue were back, leaving just the bones to settle. He'd be tender for the next little while. "I don't want a ham sandwich."

"Mhm." She faced me, looking skeptical. "Are you sure you just want a croissant?"

I raised my eyebrow. "Yes. Too much food will overpower the coffee. I've got a long night ahead."

"Suit yourself."

I rolled my eyes and said nothing. We waited a few minutes before the waitress returned with beverages and my croissant. The bagels were still warming up, she said. I pretended not to notice Matthius slurp down his orange juice.

"Whoa!" he said, glancing at his phone. "Look!"

He proudly turned to display an email. It was too far across the table for me to read. "What is it?"

"American Heirs. They're offering me a spot next season."

"What is that?" asked Jason.

"Basically, the sons of famous American celebrities screw around with other famous daughters. Like Love Island, a bit. The shoot only lasts two and a half weeks." He grinned at me. "Can you put that as my vacation time? I'll forward you the dates when I get 'em."

I stared at him. "There is a hole in your body, Matthius. You have more pressing concerns."

"What, the Family?" he snorted, tipping his chair back with confidence only someone who'd flown all their life could flaunt. "Dude, that'll be over in, like, a month. We smoked the sacred shit out of their dumbass base. Dad and I will be back before you know it, then it's wraps. You pulled their pants way down in Mexico, Barn. It's only a matter of time before we find the hag and bury her at the bottom of the Chasm."

Elise scowled. "Don't get cocky, Matty. This kind of thing is exactly what got you in trouble in the first place."

"Please. Trouble is the King of Sweden banning you from his country for banging the britches off his daughter. Trouble is having a stingy older brother launch you across the ocean 'cause he's pissy and sad. This is a mild inconvenience at best."

"I didn't send you–"

"Yeah, yeah." He sipped his orange juice. "Pisser."

"It was a miss–"

"Pssss," he whispered.

I studied my younger brother. "I will never understand how you graduated."

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"Then read a book," snickered Matthius as the bagels arrived. "The law doesn't let you fail elementary, and there are a shit ton of ways to get through high."

"I was going to ask how you knew that," I replied, "but as they say, experience is the best teacher."

Elise shook her head. "If only. Maybe then he wouldn't have flown to Stockholm last month."

"You did what?" growled Jason before hissing with discomfort. "What is wrong with you?"

"You are such a snitch," grumbled Matthius. Jason eyed him disapprovingly before glancing down at the food.

"If you get caught, you're on your own," I warned.

He looked up from his dinner. "Hmm? Caught with what?"

"European royalty."

"Oh. Pft. Their strongest Hero is Mysteri. You've taken scarier shits than him."

Mysteri was a Queen-Class technokinetic. Most of his body was mechanical, comprised of befuddling compartments and gadgets. He was by no means a pushover, but in a fight against Matthius, the Swedes would be as good as dead.

"Do not fuck," I warned him, "with a country."

"I'm not fucking with that country, I'm fucking it's princess. God, what is with you people? It's not even that crazy of a place. Switzerland, I'd understand. All the banks are there. England, sure. They've got, uh, bridges and... Meghan Markle. But Sweden? Their biggest exports are blondes and chocolate."

"Germany," I corrected.

"Huh?"

"Germany exports the most chocolate. Them and Switzerland."

He stared at me. "Who fucking cares? Dude, why do you even know that?"

"The point," Elise sighed, "we are all trying to make, Matthius, is that fucking a princess, no matter where she's from, is not a good idea. So, for all of our sakes, stop."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine."

We glared at him.

"Fine!" he made a big show of blocking a contact named 'OkAss2MuchSass'. "Happy? You've ruined my year, by the way. I'd spent weeks studying their security rotations. I even bought a disguise to get through the janitorial elevator, which is like a floor from her room."

I helped myself to a cooling cup of black coffee. "Elise, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you failed as a mother."

She raked my frame with a long look. "Clearly."

"Oh, come on, guys," Matthius grumbled. "Catty shit is for when I'm better and not the centre of attention. Go back to speaking about me, please."

"Do not go back to that woman," cautioned Jason. "Keep her blocked."

"What about her bodyguard? Or her best friend? Or their good friend?"

"I take it back," snapped Elise. "I hope you get caught. And I'm going to punch another hole in your chest if you don't eat that bagel instead of staring at it like a malnourished owl. You too, Jason."

The boys gingerly reached over and helped themselves. I shook my head tiredly.

It was Saturday, and Matthius' recovery was going well. He could walk again, and the doctors assured us he'd soon be in fighting condition. Jason and I had been working the case with Blacklight and Church before calling it a day, where we went over to check on the idiot before heading home. Elise beat us to it, though, as she'd been watching over him when we arrived. Matthius woke up suspiciously fast and loudly demanded we go on a walk lest he defecate the bed.

While I wasn't sure why he'd resorted to such threats, I didn't argue. In the field, Matthius was all business. Unflappable and utterly focused. Outside of that, he posed more of a threat than some Rogues. It'd taken me a full hour of staring to process the amount of hush money Calvin had been forced to pay to smother rumours when I'd first become Director. Thanks to his natural charisma, superhuman looks and an obsessive compulsion to one-up himself, nobody, not even Matthius, knew how many women he'd slept with.

Without his powers, the STDs would've killed him twenty times over.

"What's the plan?" he asked, smacking his empty glass on the table with a bit more force than was required.

I replaced my drink with appropriate decorum. "For?"

He rolled his eyes. "You make a point to act like the smartest guy in every room. Guess."

I casually swept our environs. All our phones were encrypted, and my watch had technology to detect listening devices. Nearby tables had been vacated, and the waitress was back inside. The closest person to us wasn't even in the patio, had bulky headphones and was strolling toward the server farm, fifty feet away.

"The kids are gone," I informed them. "Except Lydia. She seems important to the Family for some reason, so we're holding on to her for safekeeping. We've relocated her folks as well, in case the Mother gets any naughty ideas." I cracked my neck, wincing as I again tweaked my problem arm. "I'll give it a week or two, just to be sure our safe houses are indeed safe, then she's off to Rio for a long, well-deserved vacation."

Elise frowned. "Just like that? Bernard, you have a mole." She glared at Jason. "As someone was very keen on reminding us?"

Jason grimaced sheepishly. "I already said I was–"

"Yes, we heard." She looked at me. "What's to stop them from ambushing you?"

I dabbed my chin with a napkin. "Nothing. And when they do, they'll be tremendously disappointed. The first transport will be sent to a plane waiting on the Jersey Coast. This one will take the Rogues we captured and most of our Heroes to a waiting plane. We'll pretend she's in it, wait for the Family to pounce, then have the real Lydia quietly driven to the Academy at Syracuse and flown off into the South American sunset. "

"That... huh. That's not half-bad." Elise frowned. "You're willing to give up the Rogues just like that?"

"We can capture them again," I told her nonchalantly. "That's if they're freed at all."

She rolled her jaw. "I see."

Matthius grinned. "See! I told you he was good at this shit. And just like in Mexico, they'll bite. Hook, line, and fuckin' sinker."

"That's the hope," I told him. "So keep quiet and pray." I waved to his robe. "And keep healing. It shouldn't come to it, but we may need help."

Matthius flexed his biceps. They weren't as freakishly large as Jason's, but I caught our waitress bumping into a table as she strained to look.

"Don't worry." He twisted his wrists for more definition. "You know I bring the good stuff."

I wrinkled my nose. "On second thought, let's go back inside, and you can shit the bed to your heart's content."

He smirked and patted his belly empathetically. "If you wanted that, should've made me get the eggs." He yawned. "I'm beat. Let's get out of here. I'll need energy for... later."

I glanced over at the waitress, who was pretending she couldn't see Matthius' back and rear through his open robe. He, on the other hand, had not even the slightest understanding of shame and normalcy and posed to enhance his lats.

"Stay away from that woman," I threatened, leaving a fifty-dollar tip as I pushed in my chair. I didn't need to pay as Director, but it was late, and I empathized with the staff. I'd been in their shoes, back in university.

He smirked. "Or what?"

"Or I'll fire her, and you'll never see her again."

Matthius' cocky clapback died on his tongue. "That... wow. You're fucked."

"On the contrary, Matthius. I rarely sleep with anyone, given my workload."

His brow creased. "Not even the small blonde one? Back in LA? Who broke her leg?"

"Time for bed," I declared. "And not just for you." I turned to Jason. "Think on what we spoke about, then give me a call."

Jason's feet left the ground as he nodded. "Sure. Drive safe."

He disappeared into the clouds as I faced Elise. "Get him to his room. Straight to his room."

"I've got it," promised Elise, palming her phone as Matthius staggered onto the sidewalk while bemoaning the horrors of flightless travel. "Don't worry."

I nodded, partly out of relief, and turned for the central tower.

I wasn't joking. The day was long, and the next would be no different.

I needed all the rest I could get.

----------------------------------------

Elise watched two guards suddenly appear and flank Bernard as he ambled into the distance. It was like they materialized from thin air.

"Mom!" grumbled Matthius. "I'm done with this walking shit! Carry me!"

She sighed, glancing down at her phone screen. "Matthius, you need to get back to your room, and I need to get home. Stop fooling around."

He groaned dramatically before labouring up from the pavement and beginning to drag his feet down the sidewalk.

Elise couldn't risk playing it—not with Matthius and his super ears mere yards away. So, instead, she muted her phone and clicked its transcript option. Matthius continued blathering childishly as the scrolling text curtain appeared beneath the recording. She scanned it briefly while striding out of the patio.

...one will take the Rogues we captured and most of our Heroes to a waiting plane. We'll pretend...

"Shit," Elise sighed wearily, saving the note to an encrypted cloud before deleting the original version from the app. She then pocketed her phone while jogging over to Matthius, who'd once again crumpled while wailing about joint pain.

The Mother and Bernard might hate each other, but they were right about one thing. Their whole war was finally coming to a close.

And she, for one, could not wait.