To my surprise, I found Ava half a block away from my apartment building, panting and sweaty and still covered all over in her own blood. I blew her a kiss as she glowered at me, sweat glistening on her brow. She pulled a pristine handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed it away.

“C’mon,” I said to her, slapping her shoulder and making her stumble. “We don’t have all night to sit around and catch our breath.”

She glared at me, dangerously silent as she stood and led the way. Ava decided we should walk several blocks through the dead of night to the rest of her gang. The darkness wasn’t a problem for me, with my eyesight being sharp enough to spot the mandibles on the ants underneath my sneakers if I wanted to check them out, but it was the intent behind her decision that riled me up. Here we were, two girls walking alone down the deserted lower east end, unbothered by the stink of sewage spilling from grates, and this terrible feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

Ava walked ahead of me, sure of herself in the way she strode. She was quick for someone who just ran several blocks to catch up to me, but she wasn’t in a hurry, pressured to take control of me. It was like she wasn’t afraid of the night, just dedicated to getting somewhere important.

From the outside, it must have looked as if I were her superhuman bodyguard in this gunmetal black ski mask and sleeveless top. A part of me found this almost a little funny, knowing that if I was Olympia right now and saw this from above, I wouldn’t have thought twice about swooping down here and ripping both of us a new one. But the thought wasn’t calming, and the smile it brought soon vanished. My skin prickled. Hairs rose. Someone was watching us. I felt it.

I stayed several footsteps behind her, close enough to punch a hole through her spine if she decided to stop playing nice, but far enough away that I could dart into the air in case she made the shadows leap toward me. Call me paranoid, but I knew what her family was like. Knew what they were capable of in the blink of an eye. But, on the other hand, would she have wanted me energized, rested, rearing at full power and straying a few steps behind her if she really did want to attack me? She would have taken her chance by now. Unless she had something else planned.

I watched the dark, blind covered windows looming over us. The apartments surrounding us were hives of life, with pulsating music and voices finding their way past heavy curtains and into my ears. Life was still here in the lower east end, you just had to search deep in the dark for it. Closed food stands still reeked of hot oil and stale pizza. Children had left their broken toys on the steps outside of apartment buildings. I squinted, scanning the rooftops, wondering if any of the Normals gathered up there were working for Ava, pretending to blend in to escape my eye.

You could always sense a superhuman, but Normals might as well have been ghosts.

“If you’re trying to find my shadow, I’m afraid you won’t be able to spot them.”

I grunted, shifting the duffel bag on my shoulder. “You’re a villain. Can’t blame me.”

Ava chuckled lightly, shoes snapping against the pavement. It was as if she wanted to make a scene, assert dominance against the silence. “No, I can’t fault you for falling on your instincts.”

We walked in silence for several blocks, turning down street corners and descending into the bowels of the lower east end. The police never frequented these parts, because it wasn’t worth the time nor the risk of fighting against a heroin addicted superhuman causing mayhem around this time of night. Signs of old battles scarred buildings and the twisting road. Craters had been blown into the tarmac. Cars had been flipped over and left to burn out, leaving nothing but empty shells. The noise that didn’t come from Ava’s shoes was mainly from the harsh slap of white flags caught in the breeze that stuck out of windows. White Cape flags—a gang of pro-superhuman freaks who thought every Normal—not just the bad ones—were trash that needed to be dealt with instantly.

My nose shriveled with disgust. I snuffed the urge to clear out the buildings. Emelia said I made the rest of us look bad, but in comparison, I might as well be the Pope to the Normals.

The embroidered double golden war hammers caught the light of flickering street lamps, and above them, were the shadows of people moving past heavily blotched out windows. We never lingered around their homes. The few eyes that caught us glared before turning away. The one time I tried to deal with them, I inadvertently gave the media something else to chew me out for, because suddenly I was the bad guy for neutralizing a couple of superhuman fascists. You could never win with these humans. Did they want me to clean up their streets or not?

In fairness, I did have to destroy several buildings to send them scurrying out.

But it was a disaster zone, something I didn’t always see flying so far high in the sky. My gut turned at the sight of a taped off grocery store, the strips of neon yellow police tape flapping in the gusty wind. A chalk outline was on the floor in front of the counter, arms spread, legs askew, with the faintest orange tint smattered all over the floor. I watched as two kids made a race course for tiny cars out of it. I paused, locking eyes with one. They stared at me before running deeper into the store and up a set of stairs, completely out of sight until I heard a door slam shut.

“Something the matter?” Ava said beside me. “If there is, you have to let me know.”

“Let’s just get going,” I muttered. “There’s White Capes around here, anyway.”

It was several minutes before Ava spoke again, and when she did, her voice was touched by a hint of venom. “They’ve been more of a pain as of late. I think they’re trying to band together, create some kind of brotherhood with a structure to their madness. If they keep going this way—”

“They won’t,” I said, my knuckles whitening around the bag’s straps. “I’ll make sure.”

Ava glanced at me, her eyes narrowing curiously, but choosing to say nothing.

Several blocks after the taped up convenience store, the ground began to reverberate, making loose stones skitter along the pavement. Blaring music, pulsing through the earth, came from the long street ahead of us. Apartment buildings and storefronts morphed into hollow casinos and long abandoned hotels that towered over everything beside them. The Lower Boulevard wasn’t anything like the pictures back in its heyday. Palm trees along the street were withered, slumped under their own weight, just like the dozens of store fronts robbed of all their worth. In comparison to its newer, shinier sister in the upper west side, this place was the crown of bones that sat on the head of what Lower Olympus used to be. Sure, some people still lived here, smoked here, drank their money away and gambled what little they had into the money pits surrounding us.

But the shine was gone, and all that was left were lilting shadows and drunks. Hookers and prostitutes and gang bangers who weren’t afraid of the police or the curfew they wouldn’t impose.

Some joints had strict ‘No Supers Allowed’ signs on them. Others had pure white flags draped over the entrances. I spotted guns, rifles, a dozen or so knives and machetes on belts.

All of this didn’t exactly make me feel confident about Ava’s plan anymore. Lucian used to operate around these parts, stamping on every neck that stuck out a little too far for his liking.

He wouldn’t have let it go to shit like this, I thought, stepping over some lady passed out on the concrete. My better judgment won out and, even though I heard her weak pulse, I rubbed my index and thumb together, pressed it to her chest, and lightly jolted her awake. The fog in her eyes cleared. Her heart quickened. Her cheeks puffed up, reddened, then she puked on her dress.

“Go home,” I growled, because if I looked like a thug, I guess I had to act like one.

The woman blinked, got up, staggered her way down the street, but kept going.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Ava said quietly. “I thought your electricity—”

I nudged her arm to make her keep walking. “We keep secrets here, remember?”

She smiled, a curious glimmer shining in her eyes, then continued leading the way forward.

***

At the end of the broadwalk, a stone throw away from the bay, was the Golden Guild. A palace in comparison to everything that came before it, and a statement to every other small casino we passed on our way here. I now understood why Ava walked so casually, confidently, toward the end of the boulevard; the guild was still, to this day, one of the biggest hotels ever built in New Olympus. I was a kid when this place used to host all kinds of big name villains, but things were different back then—they were borderline celebrities in their own right. You read articles on what Mystique wore, or who Overkill had on his arm that night. Blogs and videos and news hours.

But now the bay was smeared in fog, smudging the sky and the blackened sea. The building itself was nothing compared to the shining scarlet glory it once was. Cracks split the large pillars standing in front of the entrance, as if they were giving up on holding the weight of the balcony above it. Vines stretched over one wall, crawling through open windows. The lights were off, except for a single crimson bulb humming above the entrance. I could sense someone watching us now clearly, a presence that thudded toward the entrance and peaked out of a window.

A dark silhouette stared at us, then the curtains swept shut. Ava stood with her arms behind her back, meters from the door. I was still cautious, my skin crawling with nerves. I was hovering an inch off the filthy red carpet that led to the iron front door, partly out of disgust to be fair. The place reeked of dead fish and sea salt, old cigarette butts and blood clinging to broken glass.

Olympia stared at me from the shattered glass spread on the pavement to one side of us, her eyes glinting off each shard, and her glower caught by the hellish light coming from the doorway.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, ignoring her as locks started clicking out of place.

“It’s not what it used to be. I know,” Ava said quietly, tensing her jaw. “Times have changed and so has the business model. But I assure you that there’s nothing to worry about.”

I cocked an eyebrow, wondering. “And what exactly is this new business model?”

The steel door shuddered and groaned open. Ava didn’t answer as she strode past the hulking mass of corded muscle stooped behind the door. I’d seen large before, but this was a superhuman who had probably been unfortunate enough to have had a terrible Awakening. I couldn’t help but stare at his fingers, curled and thick, fused together by pale pink skin, and at his crooked solid jaw, broad sweaty forehead, and jutting set of lower teeth. He was shirtless, his pants were curtain drapes sewn to fit just him. And he had this dead, cold look in his blue eyes. Orbs that narrowed as he clamped his meaty hand on my shoulder, stopping me dead in my tracks.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

My knees buckled under the sudden weight. I blinked, surprised. An A-Grade. Had to be.

“Solomon,” Ava said, already halfway across the dark, dingy, empty casino hall. “She’s the girl I went to get. Her name is Tempest. Remember what I told you about being nice to guests?”

He grunted, nodding once and letting go of me. I rolled my shoulder, feeling the wetness his sweaty palm left behind. Then he reached for me again. I readied myself. But instead of grabbing my shoulder, he dusted me off, which felt like being hit repeatedly by sledgehammers.

I looked up at him, put off. He smiled a large smile that showed off mismatched teeth.

“Tempest,” Ava said. “We don’t have a large operating window. Let’s get going.”

Hovering my way across the casino lounge, I glanced over my shoulder, watching as Solomon slammed the iron door shut and sat beside it, his eyes shut, his mouth open, hands on his knees and a tiny radio playing some pop song just next to his large feet. He waved as we left.

I followed Ava down the never ending hallway. Bullet holes punctured the walls and the carpet. Vases were smashed and littered across the ruined tiles. Floor to ceiling pieces of artwork were torn, and pieces hung limp like colorful tongues of paper. A firefight had raged through these hallways, destroying walls and parts of the floor, exposing other empty rooms and electrical wires.

The entire place felt… odd. Not like I was flying through the hideout of one of the most notorious villains of his generation, but the after party of his demise. Was that part of the reason Ava was walking so quickly, without pause, because she didn’t like lingering on the destruction?

But that left me with ringing questions: where was Lucifer? Who did this kind of damage?

I didn’t have the time to stop and think as we reached a wall of elevators. One elevator had no doors, open to an abyss of a long shaft. Others were filled with rubble spilling onto the floor. The one Ava made a beeline for was relatively intact, albeit with dents in the steel. She pressed the down button, making the doors creak open. The lights were on inside, golden and bright, only making the garish smear of dried blood on the floor and the torn wallpaper more out of place.

We stepped inside, myself still hovering in the air. Then we waited for a heartbeat before Ava looked at me, a brief flash of annoyance on her face as she said, “Basement button.”

I glared at her, and the look on her face vanished. “Please,” she added cordially.

The doors shut, and the elevator began to descend. The mechanism groaned and rattled, jerking the elevator every other second. Sound numbed, becoming distant. We were down beneath several layers of concrete, judging by how silent it all became. Bitter saliva filled my mouth as I clenched the bag. The other shafts must be blocked or destroyed. And through this many levels of concrete, we were practically in a whole other world. If she already had an A-Grade sitting by the door, then who else did she have in her gang that was actually going to do the heavy lifting?

And why need me for all this? I thought. Every supervillain would kill to be with Lucian.

Ava reached past me and pressed the emergency stop button. The elevator halted, jerking to a sudden stop. Electricity sparked between my fingers. Heat emanated from my body. I grabbed her throat and lifted her off the ground, looking her dead in her bored eyes as I stopped to listen to the silence. Nothing. Nobody coming our way. No attack. Unless the concrete was too thick, or she had some other material lining the elevator that stopped my super hearing. Was that possible?

“This is getting tedious,” she said. “Your trust won’t come easily, and I know it cannot be bought, but you’re one us now, at least temporarily, so I’d ask if you just calmed down a little.”

“Then why did you stop the damned elevator?” I said. “Whose coming?”

“I stopped because I needed to tell you to not be Olympia,” Ava said. I backed off, letting go of her neck. She massaged her throat as she looked at me, annoyance on her face. “Your golden electricity. The bright, shining yellow eyes. All of it is too incriminating. Are you able to stop it?”

I folded my arms. “Have you ever tried to sprint without breathing before?”

Ava’s eyebrows creased in confusion. “I… suppose. Why?”

“It feels like that if I don’t let my body do what it needs to,” I said. “It’s…” I weighed my options, wondering if I should tell her this or not. It wouldn’t matter, I guessed. She had let me into her hideout, showed me what was left of her father’s gang: I might not have known as much about her as she did me, but a sudden visit from Olympia would ruin everything she’d planned if she ever dared to use anything she knew against me. “It weakens me after a while. Not as fast and not as strong and sure as hell not as bulletproof as compared to when I use the electricity and heat.”

She nodded, biting her thumb. “Well, that’s annoying, but it’ll have to do.” Ava looked at me as she pressed the button again, continuing the elevator. “You say you’re human, aren’t you?”

“Why?” I asked. “Because I’m that much better than your average superhuman?”

Ava remained serious as the elevator came to a stop. “Questions for another time.”

The doors opened to a fluorescent illuminated storage area packed full with armor wearing mercenaries. I was caught in the spotlight, frozen in place as hundreds of them looked our way. Cigarette smoke hung in the air, a haziness that blurred the shadows clinging to large pillars. They were all stooped over large crates of ammunition and assault rifles, flash bangs, grenades, body armor and so much more military grade equipment my gut turned with a sudden surge of heat. Wearing combat boots, black pants, jackets with the labels taped over and chiseled, suspicious faces, they looked exactly like any thug I wouldn’t have thought twice about pulling apart on a Monday night. The underground warehouse was large, large enough for them to unload this new shipment being brought out of blacked-out armored trucks near the back of the grimy warehouse.

Every box was the same silver metal, with white serial numbers printed on them meaning nothing to me. I sensed several superhumans amongst them, but nothing I could physically see.

Ava placed her hand on my lower back, pulling me out of my searching stare. My body had started becoming hot, making the blood on the walls of the elevator spill down the sides.

Instinct told me to plow into the pillars, collapse the whole damned thing and trap the thugs under the ruble. It would take me a minute and hardly a sprinkle of sweat on my forehead.

Instead, I followed Ava out of the elevator. Eyes tracked both of us, some curious, others vaguely interested, most bored, but a few dozen narrowed their eyes at me. You never knew what kind of superhuman you were dealing with, or how well trained or how powerful they were.

For the first time since I got my powers, I felt blind to the world around me. Choked.

“Hey, Av’,” a man shouted as they all got back to unloading the boxes. He appeared from the masses, not much different from the rest in all-black gear. His saving grace was the fleshy scar that went down his cheek and stopped just above his jaw. “This the firepower you promised?”

She nodded, not stopping for him, making sure he kept pace as we crossed the room. “She’s called Tempest. Tempest, this is O’Reiley. You’ll work with him in the field.”

I looked him up and down, and he did the same. “Got some kinda problem?”

He chewed on something foul, tobacco probably. “Just smaller than I thought. Got any training? Experience? Know how to keep your shit together when it all hits the fan?”

“You’re a Normal,” I said dryly. “I can smell the heart disease in your veins.”

He stopped chewing, narrowing his eyes. “A Super with a good nose. That’s all?”

I shrugged. “I could also pull out your heart and save your family the autopsy bill.”

The pair of us stopped, staring at each other. His hand rested on a hunting knife strapped to his thigh, fingers casually perched on the hilt as if he wasn’t sure if it would work on me. Or maybe to intimidate me. To push the new girl and see how she’d react if he pulled it out on her.

Then he smiled, showing yellowing teeth. “A jackass, too. Better not be all bark.”

“If I wanted to listen to people stroke their egos I’d watch Vice President Rivers talk about her charity work,” Ava said, snapping her fingers. “Tempest, come on. O’Reiley, follow.”

I grunted, waving O’Reiley past me. I didn’t like the way she had been talking and looking at me ever since we got here, but maybe it was out of necessity. Daddy’s little girl had to grab a hold of what was seemingly left of the crumbling empire. Be strong and demanding. A bit of an asshole in all honesty. I couldn’t blame her, though, being surrounded by mercenaries all day long.

But I respected it. A part of me knew how awkward those shoes felt to walk in.

We were led into a corner of the warehouse, where large stretches of the wall had a map of New Olympus taped to the concrete. Tacks dotted the city, most of them clustered in Lower Olympus. Circles had been drawn in red marker, and several blocks, buildings, and streets had Xs over them. In front of the connected maps were tables, many filled with strewn papers, others with desk lamps that lit up what I could only think were financial records and docking schedules.

Oh, and there was a kaiju reading through a thick yellow file. It didn’t take me by surprise, but seeing them out in the open was always a shock to the system. The human-animal hybrids were hated by both superhumans and Normals, and nobody ever stood up for them either. I figured there was a reason for it, but I never paid much attention in history to learn about it. This one, though, wasn’t much of the monster the tabloids would make you think they were. He wore a suit, stood about as tall as O’Reiley, and simply had a large dog head in place of his human one. A golden retriever, I think? I couldn’t really tell. I was just impressed seeing him be… intelligent.

Not to say kaiju were stupid, but when an unfortunate Awakening happened and your brain got mangled and morphed into half the size it was, then you wouldn’t be very smart either.

“The others,” Ava said, making the kaiju dog-man perk up from the file. “Where are they?”

He took off the glasses perched on the end of his nose, and when he spoke, I couldn’t help but smile in surprise. He could speak—I’m sure there was a joke hiding in there somewhere.

“Well, they returned just minutes ago. They shouldn’t be—” He stopped, then held his hand out to me, shaking his head. “Where are my manners? Mr. Campbell. How do you do?”

His hand was normal, too. A bit of a disappointment, I’d say. “Tempest.”

“What a firm grip,” he said. “I’m sure Averie made the right choice cajoling you into our little family of world-changers. I hope you found the snacks I gathered for you satisfactory?”

“Yeah, they were…” I laughed, looking him up and down. “I’m sorry, but wow.”

He cocked his head, ears flopping to one side. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re just the first kaiju I’ve seen who can talk and understand me. Good—”

“Don’t make that joke if you know what’s fuckin’ good for you,” O’Reiley said.

I held up my hands in mock surrender. “I was just gonna say good for him.”

And I doubted a criminal could be a good boy, anyway.

“You can speak more later,” Ava said, massaging her temples. “Where are they?”

“This isn’t everyone?” I asked, waving my hand to indicate the people surrounding us. “Dozens of mercs and a few superhumans isn’t enough?” Besides, I could probably work alone if all I had for backup was a couple of Normals with guns.

Nobody works alone here, a voice said in my head. Even Zeus had partners.

I spun around so quickly the sudden gust of wind shoved O’Reiley several steps backward. Papers blew into the air, snatched up by a flustered Mr. Campbell. It wasn’t Ava’s voice I had heard, and a part of me was desperate for her not to be able to read minds too. That was a step too far in my book. A step across a line that would have put a definitive end to our deal.

“What the fuck’s the matter with you?” O’Reiley said. “Pull that shit again—”

I shushed him, narrowing my eyes, searching the faces of the mercs. No, none of them either. Most mind readers had to be looking directly at you, something to do with making it easier.

Until I found the one pair of eyes looking straight at me—dark, ebony colored eyes that belonged to a supermodel’s face. Her hair was blood-red, her lipstick the same color. She walked toward us from the other side of the storage area, three others in tow. Her dress was long and dark, sweeping along the floor. She got stares and low, jousting whistles from a few of the guys and girls. Inside the dimly lit warehouse, her skin was paler, her cheeks more sculpted as if someone had taken a scalpel to her face. The trio behind her, two smiling, one masked, made my throat dry.

Heart pounding as I hovered, I balled my fists as I watched Witchling smile at me.