“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Phil heard someone say. He couldn’t be sure who, however, as he was more focused on the intense pain in his shoulder and the white sparks popping in his vision every time he moved. Those sparks turned into a supernova when he felt arms snake under his chest and lift him off the still form beneath him. He felt a grating in his collarbone and let out a yell that ended in whimpering tears as he was unceremoniously dumped on his back. He held his left arm close as he tried to figure out what had just happened.
“Is he… dead?” he heard one the women ask hesitantly.
“Give me a second, Rose. I’m checking,” replied a third voice. “See if he’s alright, will ya?”
“What? Oh, right. Okay.”
The stars above Phil disappeared, replaced by a concerned face. Trying to shift his attention from the excruciating pain in his shoulder, Phil focused on her. Wide, concerned looking brown eyes stared back at him over a straight nose and full lips. Brown hair cascaded over one shoulder, brushing against Phil’s cheek while a hand lightly brushed his hair off his forehead. To Phil’s mind she looked just like-
“Anne Hathaway?”
The woman shook her head. “Hardly, but thank you for the compliment. I’m Rose. Are you ok?”
Phil shook his head. “Shoulder. Broken,” he grunted out. Her eyes narrowed as her attention shifted downward to where he was clutching his arm. She looked at his shoulder, her eyes glowing briefly. Phil stared. Did he just see that, or was his mind playing tricks on him from the pain?
“Broken clavicle,” she muttered, then looked him in the eye. “This is going to hurt. A lot.”
“What-” he began, but all thought instantly fled as she placed her hands on his shoulder and forced the bones back in place. He screamed in pain, and just before he blacked out, he could have sworn he saw her eyes glowing again.
Rose stood up and turned away from the unconscious man, looking to her companion that stood next to the prone form of their former… associate.
“Bruce?” she asked.
“Dead,” replied Reese. She lifted the man’s head to reveal what had killed him: a four inch post sticking out of the concrete where a road sign used to be. When he’d fallen, he’d landed clean on it, driving what was left of the post into his skull. The blonde didn’t seem too upset at the situation. Not that she would. He’d given her little reason to love him. “How’s the kid?”
“Alive. I had to heal his collarbone though. Looks like he blacked out from the pain.”
Reese shook her head. “Damn fool’s lucky he wasn’t killed. If Bruce had been a second faster, we would be cleaning up two murders tonight.”
“We still are,” came the reply from the car. Reese and Rose looked over at the redhead as she examined the driver. “This guy’s dead, and now we have to do something with Bruce. At least the wet noodle over there will be easier to move.” She stood up and blew a lock of her hair out of her eyes before joining the other two next to Bruce’s body. “Do your thing, Reese. It’s almost two, and that bar around the corner is going to empty out soon.”
Reese smirked as she started walking towards the intersection. “Surprisingly practical, Britt. Rose, get Master Wet Noodle down the street a bit. I’d hate to undue the work you just put in to him. Britt, I may need a ride after this. It’s going to take a lot of energy, and it’s been a long day.”
Nodding, Britt and Rose moved Phil’s unconscious form down the street and waited for Reese’s show to begin. Reese took a breath and opened her mind to everything around her. Aside from her two companions and the unconscious man with them, all she felt were stray animals in the immediate area and some soft echoes from the bar just at the edge of her range. She sent a spike of energy out to chase off the animals but didn’t concern herself with the bar. What she planned wouldn’t affect it or her friends. Assured that nothing alive would be harmed, she wrapped herself in a bubble of energy and pulled herself into the air.
Rose and Britt averted their eyes and placed themselves between Reese and their charge in case he suddenly woke up, aware of what was to come next. A bright flash illuminated the intersection, following by a deafening roar. Shockwaves nearly knocked Rose over, but Brittany stabbed the ground with her hand and held her in place. As the heat and shockwaves calmed down, the women turned to inspect the results. The entire intersection and half the buildings surrounding it was molten slag. The radius had naturally been expanded to consume the car and bodies, the entire reason for the action in the first place. The heat coming from the area was enough to reduce everything it touched to ash, and the soft bodies were quickly consumed by flames and incinerated.
Reese levitated herself to the edge of destruction and promptly collapsed. Britt quickly made her way over and hoisted the exhausted woman over her shoulder.
“Time to go,” Britt said as she raced back to Rose and threw the still unconscious man over her other shoulder. Hardly noticing the weight she carried, Britt dashed down the street, Rose hot on her heels. They needed to be long gone by the time people started converging on the area.
*
Phil woke screaming, clutching at his shoulder and completely disoriented. He sat up and looked at his hand. Why was he clutching his shoulder? He had a vague impression that he should be in a lot of pain, but he felt none, aside from a slight headache that he attributed to the drinking he did the night before. As he was looking at his hand he noticed the blanket across his lap, then the couch he was laying on. He recognized neither of them. What the hell? he thought. Looking around, he took in his surroundings. He was clearly in someone’s living room. A very nice living room. The furniture looked like it was directly out of a show about the rich and famous. The massive flat panel TV was a brand he couldn’t have afforded without saving his entire income for a few years. A huge fireplace took up the center third of an adjoining wall while floor to ceiling windows flanked it. The windows provided a view of a high class neighborhood, which confused Phil because last he remembered he was deep in town at the bar and nowhere near anything like this.
Tossing the blanket aside, Phil stood and marveled at his bare feet. Heated floors, he thought. Nice. He looked around the room, trying to gain some idea of where he was. Seeing some pictures on the mantel of the fireplace, he padded his way over and grabbed the closest one. A brunette was smiling widely and throwing up a peace sign. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. She kind of reminded him of-
“Anne Hathaway?”
“Rose. We’ve already been through this, Mr. Thomas.”
Startled, Phil nearly dropped the photo. After some awkward juggling, he managed to save it from hitting the ground and placed it back on the mantel. He didn’t notice it fall flat as he turned and saw the real life version of the woman wearing a tank top and shorts instead of the fashionable dress in the photo. Her hair was tousled, and eyes were puffy and red, but it was definitely the same woman he remembered seeing last night. Last night!
It all came back to him in a flash. His argument with Chuck. Stumbling upon the group at the car. Rose’s pleading eyes meeting his. The tackle. The pain. Her glowing eyes. Nothing after that though.
“What’s going on? Why am I here?” he asked nervously. The woman eyed him for a second.
“How much do you remember from last night?” she asked.
“Everything up until you touched my shoulder. What did you do? I know I broke it when I hit that walking gorilla-” he cut himself off when he saw the dark look in her eyes. He was incapable of reading women, but even he could tell this was a step too far for her. Meekly, he looked at the ground. “Sorry.”
Still looking at the ground, he missed her wiping at her eyes and sighing. Moving to the couch, she threw the blanket over the back and called him over while taking a seat. Nervously, he made his way over and sat at the far end of the couch, nowhere near where she’d patted, and awkwardly turned his head to look at her while wringing his hands between his knees. She had no way of knowing that being alone with a woman on a couch terrified him more than his actions the night before. At least, he didn’t think she had any way of knowing.
It wasn’t too terribly difficult for her to get the idea. To her, his body language screamed it. He was distant, folded in on himself, and hardly made eye contact. He’d glance at her, then look away, glance back, make eye contact, look away again. Despite her current mindset and grief over the events of the night before, she couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. He still couldn’t resist taking quick peeks at her chest. She’d come to expect it in her life, but most guys were better at hiding it than he was. She decided to take a wait and see approach with him, wondering if he’d find the courage to speak first.
They sat there for a few uncomfortable moments before his fidgeting started to annoy her.
“Mr. Thomas, you killed a man last night.” Taking the blunt approach, Rose figured it was best to hit him with the biggest hammer in her arsenal at the moment. This was completely out of character for her, but the man was already familiar with her face, so they decided she should be the one to talk with him. Reese wasn’t part of the discussion since she’d passed out on Britt’s shoulder and still hadn’t woken up.
If Phil’s eyes had gotten any wider, they would’ve fallen out of his head. “I did!? I didn’t mean to! I swear! I don’t even know why I ran at him!” He dropped his face into his hands and started rocking back and forth. “Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod…”
Rose moved closer to place a hand on his shoulder, but as soon as he felt the movement he jerked away, surprising her. He stood up from the couch and started pacing. “What am I going to do? I killed a man. I. Killed. Someone.” He whipped around and faced Rose. “Are you going to call the cops? It’d be the right thing to do, of course. I wouldn’t blame you.” It didn’t occur to him that if they were going to do that, they probably wouldn’t have let him sleep on their couch.
Rose shook her head. “No. No one is going to call the cops. Sadly, it was going to happen eventually. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but he needed to be killed. Probably a long time ago, actually, but we just couldn’t accept that he was too far gone to save. And when he started choking that poor man…” she lapsed into silence as she remembered the night before
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Phil stared at her in confusion. “What?”
Rose looked up, then made a decision and stood. “Let’s get some breakfast. I have a lot to tell you, and I’m hungry.”
Phil watched her retreating back for a second then followed her. To say he was confused would be a massive understatement. He followed her through a door in to a lavish dining room straight out of a fantasy novel. At the long table two places were already set with food piled up in between like a luxurious buffet. Rose took a seat to the right of the head of the table and gestured at the seat across from her.
They ate in awkward silence for a while before pushing their plates aside and settling back with some coffee. Phil wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in these sorts of situations, and he was terrified of saying or doing anything that might offend her again. Rose, for her part, seemed content to sit in silence and sip her coffee. The longer the silence dragged, the more nervous Phil got and the more he squirmed.
“He wasn’t always like that, you know,” Rose said suddenly. Phil just stared at her, not knowing what to say or what she was talking about. “He used to be a bright, energetic, and fun guy. That’s why I joined his party.” She looked down into her mug. “That’s why I fell in love with him.”
Phil opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting to say something, anything, but instead just did his best impression of a fish out of water. She still hadn’t looked at him. “Um…” he began.
“Something in him changed though,” she continued, cutting off anything Phil might have said much to his relief. “You know that old saying ‘you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain?’ I think that’s what happened to Bruce. He used to be so kind and caring about everyone, but gradually he started turning his back on people. Started saying things like ‘the weak need to start standing up for themselves’ and complaining about not being recognized for all the work he’s done for the city. He started to not care that what we do is supposed to be a secret. I think his power started to go to his head.” She shook her head. “He used to be so humble.” She lapsed into silence for a bit.
“What you do?” Phil asked. Rose finally looked up and met his eyes. It was all Phil could do to not lower his own.
“We’re kind of like guardians, Mr. Thomas. We protect the city.”
“Um, call me Phil, or Philip. Protect it from what? Why are you telling me this?”
“Philip, then. We protect it from things mundane people couldn’t hope to comprehend. As for why I’m telling you, we’ll get to that in a moment.”
He tilted his head in confusion. “Mundane people?” Rose let a small smile play across her lips for a second at his question.
“Not the best term, I know, but usually helps get the idea across. I guess you could say we’re like… adventurers in an RPG? That a fairly accurate description. At least our group was. A mage, a tank, a healer, and a leader. Just don’t call Brittany a tank. She hates the term.”
Phil unconsciously rubbed his collarbone. “You’re the healer, aren’t you? My shoulder…”
Rose nodded. “Yes. I healed you last night.”
“Last night…” Phil said thoughtfully. “Last night, why didn’t you try to stop… Bruce, was it? You said he was choking that man, but you guys just watched.” He flinched at the look that crossed her face.
“Don’t you think we would have if we could have!?” she barked out, jumping to her feet and smacking the table as tears started rolling down her eyes. “We tried! We fought so hard against the order, but we couldn’t break it! We couldn’t stop him! We were helpless! He ripped that door off and started choking that poor man right before our eyes, just because he called us pretty as we walked by! He told us to stay there, and there was nothing we could do!” Rose’s voice had risen in pitch as she unloaded on Phil before she collapsed back in her chair and buried her head in her arms, sobbing on the table, her coffee mug knocked over, the spilled coffee spreading and dripping on to the floor.
Phil sat straight against the back of his chair as if he were pinned there, unable to move and unsure what to do. If women in general terrified him, then a crying woman was downright horrifying. He sat there, stunned and motionless, until a new voice caused his head to whip around in panic.
“When a party leader gives an order, it will be obeyed. There’s no way around it.” The muscular red head said as she stood straight from the door she’d been leaning against and started walking the length of the room to Rose’s side. Phil couldn’t help but admire the muscle tone evident on her body, not the least bit hidden beneath her black and red leggings and sports bra. She scowled at him. “Eyes up, kid, or I’ll have your eyeballs for earrings.”
His eyes immediately snapped to her face, then back down to the table. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Rolling her eyes, she took a seat next to Rose and placed a comforting hand on her back. As she comforted her friend, she turned to face Phil. “Someone a long time ago decided that a party leader’s word was law, and all who follow them were compelled to obey. They say it prevents infighting in the group, but I think someone was just high on their own power and didn’t like being told no.”
“They?”
“Not important right now. What’s important is that we couldn’t have stopped Bruce last night after he told us to stay, no matter what happened. The only way we could have been released from the order was if he rescinded it or died.”
“That sounds awful,” said Phil.
She shrugged. “It didn’t used to be an issue, so we never thought about it.”
Rose lifted her head and looked at the red head with a sad but grateful smile. “Thanks, Britt, and I’m sorry, Philip. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
Philip waved his hands in front of himself. “No, no, no. The fault is mine. I was wrong to assume you’d just let someone be killed like that.”
The two women exchanged a look, and Rose slowly nodded, looking back down to the table.
“We… don’t think this was the first time,” said Britt. Phil cocked an eyebrow at her, so she continued. “There have been other occasions where he got upset with someone over something trivial. He always told us to head home at that point, and we had no choice but to obey. He’d always turn up later and not say anything about it. Then a day or two later there’d be reports of someone missing or bodies being found. We could never prove he had anything to do with it, but a pattern was developing.”
“Was there no one you could tell?”
“We tried to bring it up with him one day, and he told us to not talk about it,” answered Rose. “Stupid mistake on our part, really. We should’ve gone straight to the council first. Once he told us not to talk about it, we were helpless.”
“Could you have written an email or letter or something? He just said not to ‘talk’ about it, right?”
Britt rolled her eyes. “It’s not the wording we have to follow, it’s the intent. If the leader is issuing orders in the middle of a fight, they may not have time to completely articulate what it is they’re trying to do. We’re not exactly sure how it happens, but with just a few words a leader can pass their plan off to everyone in the party and know what they’ve pictured in their heads will happen. Some parties are so well put together that it can be accomplished with just a look. We… never made it that far.”
Suddenly, a door on the other side of the dining room banged open and a short blonde woman walked in yawning with her arms stretched over her head. Phil’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he took in the sight. Her face, arms, and shirt were covered in soot from her fireworks display the night before, although Phil had no way of knowing that since he’d been unconscious at the time. It wasn’t the soot that had caused his surprise and embarrassment, however. It was the fact that aside from her shirt, the only other thing she was wearing was a collection of string that laughably passed for underwear. Very little was left to the imagination. Phil turned beet red and focused very hard on the tabletop with his hands pressed firmly in to his lap, praying no one had seen his reaction. He missed the smirk on Britt’s face.
“Mornin’,” the blonde said as she approached the table, finally taking a look at who was present. “Oh. We brought the wet noodle? How ya doin’, hero?”
“I’m sorry? Wet noodle?” Phil asked. Did she see my reaction just now? He was aware of a presence pushing in to his personal bubble. A breath on his cheek. Slowly, he turned his head and found himself nose to nose with the blonde, her blue eyes encompassing his entire field of view. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. He tried looking down to break eye contact, but she immediately pushed her forehead against his to hold him in place. When he tried to lean back away from her, she followed his movements. Before he knew it, he was pressed against the back of his chair with no escape. She had practically crawled on to his lap to maintain her position, a hand on his chest, one leg squeezed between his and the arm of the chair.
“Wha… what… what are you doing?” he squeaked out. His heart felt like it was going to either beat out of his chest or stop completely, he wasn’t sure which. He could smell the toothpaste on her breath and absentmindedly wondered why she’d brushed her teeth but not wiped the grime off her face. Her eyes stayed locked on his for a few more seconds.
“You’ve got really pretty eyes,” she breathed out. She shifted her head slightly, bringing her lips dangerously close to his. Phil could’ve sworn he heard the booms of his heart breaking the sound barrier. After a couple seconds that felt like an eternity, she backed off completely and flopped over the arm of the chair next to his. “Shame about the rest of you though,” she said conversationally and poked his ribs with a dangling foot.
Phil couldn’t process what just happened and continued to hyperventilate as he stared off in to space. He didn’t notice the three women exchange glances with each other, nor Brittany’s eyerolling at Reese’s antics.
“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us, girls,” said Reese. This brought Phil back to the present.
“Seriously?” Britt groaned. Rose looked between the two of them, confused for a second until the pieces clicked in her head.
“Wait, you don’t mean…”
Reese shrugged. “Looks like it. I can feel it in him.” She turned her attention to Phil. “You caught his dying breath, didn’t you?”
“What? The guy from last night?” he asked, not daring to look at her.
Reese leaned forward towards Phil, a serious look on her face. “Yes. Bruce, the guy from last night. The guy you stupidly tackled and drove on to a four inch spike and killed. You were face to face with him when he breathed his last, right? You inhaled his dying breath, didn’t you?”
“I- I- I don’t know! Maybe? Not on purpose though! I didn’t mean to kill him. One of you asked for help and the next thing I knew I was trying to tackle him. I don’t even know why! I should’ve just called the cops like I originally thought.”
Rose’s hands shot to her mouth to hide a gasp, her eyes wide and focused on Phil.
“It was me,” she said, voice full of despair. “I asked for your help. If I hadn’t asked, he might still-”
“Be killing innocent people,” finished Reese. She straightened and swung her legs around to sit in the chair normally. She fixed Rose with a stare. “I know what you felt for him, Rose, but the man you fell in love with died a long time ago. What the noodle here killed was a monster, and deep down you know that.”
“Reese!” Brittany snarled.
“I’m not sugarcoating this, Britt. The sooner Rose gets this through her head the better. Bruce, our Bruce, no longer existed. Hadn’t for a couple years.” The expression on Reese’s face turned dark. “Believe me, I was forced to come to terms with it a long time ago. It’s time she does as well.”
Phil watched the exchange in silence. Everything was way over his head, and he wasn’t absorbing half of it. What the hell did she mean “we’ve got our work cut out for us?” And that nonsense about the guy’s dying breath? What the hell? He was so far out of his comfort zone right now he may as well have been living on the moon. Hell, he would’ve preferred being there instead. The solitude of the moon versus stuck in a room with three pretty women, one in tears, one that threatened to rip out his eyeballs for jewelry, and another that had so thoroughly invaded his personal space she may as well have been wearing his shirt? Yeah, definitely the moon. There are no women on the moon, right?
*
“Is leaving Reese alone with him a good idea?” Rose asked as she accompanied Britt out of the dining room. Britt shrugged.
“Dunno. Probably not, given his candy ass reaction to her, but she’s best suited to filling him in on what’s going to happen from now on. Your emotional state is all over the place, and if he stared at my tits one more time I really would turn his eyes into earrings.” Britt glanced at Rose as they walked. “You gonna be okay?”
Rose sighed. “Maybe? Eventually? I’m not sure. It hasn’t even been a day and… and…” she trailed off, unable to complete the thought. Intellectually she’d known what needed to be done, but her heart screamed otherwise. It still believed he could’ve been saved. That her Bruce was still somewhere inside just waiting to be drawn out. Her heart and mind were at war with each other. She had loved him so deeply, but after what he’d done to Reese, there was no coming back. It was unforgivable, yet she’d tried to do so anyway. That had driven a wedge between the two women, once the closest of friends. Now they were acquaintances at best, forced to remain teammates due to ancient laws and traditions that couldn’t be broken. She shook her head. Something in the universe must hate her.
Britt saw the conflict on Rose’s face and draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling the slender woman in close. “Come on, let’s hit the gym. A little exercise might help clear your mind.”
“Oh no. Last time I exercised with you I couldn’t lift my arms above my shoulders for days.”
Britt laughed. “Just use the treadmill while I work out.” She glanced back at the retreating dining room door. “Although part of me kind of wants to see the pervy kid’s reaction. It’s not every day a mundane learns he’s a party leader.”