Bones of the Past (Villains' Code Book 2)

by Drew Hayes

  A small shriek from the kitchen interrupted them as Chloe was splashed by grease from the pan. After the Saturday they’d been through, it had been nice to spend Sunday relaxing around the apartment. Between the sleeping in and the last few hours tooling around in her lab, Tori was feeling especially refreshed, though the current conversation was draining her fast. She’d been optimistic about integrating the unit into a compact, a notion Beverly seemed intent on disabusing her of.

  “Not a hand-mirror then, okay. Wallet?”

  “Wallet’s not bad, in theory,” Beverly agreed. “If you were getting mugged, they’d ask you to take it out anyway, so it’s easy to get your hands on. But this thing is a brick. I don’t see people lugging it around all the time the way you have to with a wallet.”

  “Plus, it wouldn’t have helped much with your kidnapping.” Chloe slid a charred husk of a flauta from the pan into the trash, adding a fresh one to a now lower-temperature oil. She’d been experimenting with recipes online this morning. So far, this was shaping up about as disastrously as her prior efforts.

  Beverly frowned, looking over the item again. “She’s right. That’s sort of the problem with all major self-defense items. You need to be able to get your hands on them in time, meaning you have to already be aware of danger in advance, or get an opportunity to rummage through your purse. Neither is consistently achievable.”

  While Tori preferred the storage capacity of a backpack to a purse, she did own a few of the items for more formal occasions. She hadn’t had one on the day in question, so she’d never pictured digging through such an item, but as she replayed the battle in her mind, it was clear there had been no such opening to do so. Beverly was right. The way these devices were most useful was if it was in the victim’s hand already. And to Tori’s thinking, they’d just hit on a very simple way to achieve that.

  “Then what if we built these into the purses themselves?” Tori mimed through the air with her hands, drawing the general shape of a handbag. “I can run the wiring up through the handles, create a pair of switches that have to be pressed in unison to prevent misfires, and have the aerosolized deterrent shoot out whichever side we designate for the front. Always in hand, easy to aim, completely non-suspicious—it would even minimize potential chemical blowback.”

  Beverly turned the device around once more, no longer looking quite so skeptical. “That could work. Plenty of purses have more heft than this, and you’d be able to fit it into almost anything bigger than a clutch. We’d have to find a way to tell at a glance which way to aim it, ideally without giving away what you’re really holding.” Her gaze drifted off, lost in a flurry of new ideas. It was an expression Tori was intimately familiar with, though she rarely got to see it on others’ faces. “Yeah, I might be able to put something together. It’ll be rough if you want it fast, though.”

  “That’s not exactly my most polished work, either.” Tori nodded to her device, proud as she was of it. “Right now, the goal is to show potential. Refinement comes after we prove it works.”

  “I’m going to remind you of that when I bust out my first version and you start coming in with notes about thread, design, and—”

  The sudden knock made both of them jump, and the flurry of fresh grease pops from the pan meant Chloe had knocked around her current attempt as well. All three looked at each other, the collective mind of the apartment trying to figure out if they had any plans for the day. When no one offered up an explanation, Tori rose from her chair.

  “If it’s a salesman, I’m throwing that grease on him,” Tori muttered as she stalked across the room. Before opening the door, she checked to be certain Beverly had tucked the device out of view, then yanked it open.

  For a moment, she almost flinched at the sight of Agent Quantum, memories from the prior night’s battle rearing up in her mind. Except it wasn’t Agent Quantum at the door, it was Austin. No costume adorned his body to mark that he was on the job. Even if it had been, he didn’t know he’d recently squared off with two-thirds of the apartment’s occupants.

  That much was proven seconds later by his friendly greeting. “Evening, neighbors. How’s the weekend been treating you?”

  “Drugs, sex, devil worship—you know. The usual. How’s cape-life?” Without knowing why he was here, all Tori could do was keep things light and hope he’d spill it soon. This was not a situation where she wanted to start guessing.

  “Been better. We had a rough one last night—part of why I’m here, actually.” Austin pointed upward, either to Heaven or the roof, or theoretically both, depending on one’s particular love of rooftops. “It was such a shit night, we decided to blow off a little steam. We’re throwing a small party on top of the building tonight. Very small. More of a get-together, really, but there will be food, drinks, and music, so I’ve been assured it counts as a party.”

  Tori looked back into the apartment, finding the response warm to neutral. Chloe was still more interested in her cooking practice, and Beverly gave a soft “Why not?” shrug. Having just come to blows with most of the team, Tori wasn’t especially feeling the desire to be social; however, that only made the paranoid part of her brain insist it was all the more necessary to do. Anything that might tip them off to the connection had to be avoided at all costs. Although, even she could admit that might be taking the fear a bit far.

  “It sounds like a great time, but Sunday night is kind of a tough one, schedule wise.”

  Austin nodded, yet looked undeterred. “I promise, we won’t keep you up too late. And I haven’t even told you the best part. Guess who the other guests are?”

  “I mean, it has to be more capes, right? Those are kind of the only people you know in town.”

  “Well, yes, though it’s the who in particular that’s notable.” Austin leaned in slightly, as if this was the part that had to be hidden from the walls’ prying ears. “Your friend Donald and his team are going to join us. A week together, and we were barely on speaking terms, but there’s nothing like shared combat to put differences in perspective. I do understand if you three can’t come, just wanted to extend the offer. We probably wouldn’t be on these better terms without your help.”

  That complicated matters. Ducking the New Science Sentries was one thing. Avoiding a friend she hadn’t gotten to hang out with in a while was another, far more suspicious matter. There were ways out, excuses she could use to get free, but they would all leave a lingering patina of doubt in people’s minds or risk hurting a friend’s feelings.

  “Long as you aren’t offended when I have to turn in for work in the morning, I bet we can swing by. What time does it start?”

  “We told the others to be here in about an hour, although Ike and Kyle have already been hauling coolers and decorations up to the roof,” Austin informed her.

  From deeper in the apartment, Beverly’s voice piped up. “Decorations? I thought it was just a get-together.”

  A ripple of panic seemed to wash over Austin, brief but unmistakable. He recovered in moments, raising his own voice without treading near an actual yell. “It’s our first one in Ridge City. First one anywhere outside of home, actually. We wanted to have some fun with it.”

  “Count me in. My curiosity is officially piqued,” Beverly called.

  “Me too. I’ll need some dinner. Looks like this recipe is going to take more practice.” Chloe tossed the smoking remains of another flauta into the trash, tying off the bag to prevent the smell from escaping.

  Austin’s enthusiasm ratcheted up by several degrees, and Tori didn’t think it had much to do with Chloe joining in. He offered up a big grin and two thumbs, both locked in the “up” position. “Phenomenal. I’ll let the others know, and we’ll see you three soon.”

  Tori shut the door once he started walking away, mouthing the word “fuck” as loudly as she dared. After the fight, all she wanted was to spend some time being a normal person—well, normal secret-lab-having inventor, anyway. Now, she was going to spend the even
ing around the people she and Beverly had traded blows with less than twenty-four hours prior.

  It was a good thing Austin had said there would be booze. Tori was definitely going to need a few drinks to make it through this one.

  In the streets of Ottawa, children dove into the piles of candy like rich cartoon ducks swimming through a vault of gold. Laying broken in half were the two sides of the giant, tree-shaped piñata, split down the middle by a mighty blow from Rumblejack. The hometown hero was out with the masses, helping direct crowds and traffic amidst the sudden storm of candy coating the streets.

  Standing atop a building, watching it all, was not a man with kaleidoscope eyes. This one had quite normal brown irises, though his ensemble was certainly more eclectic. Aviator hat and goggles, billowing purple scarf, a pirate-like ruffled shirt, and polka dot pants formed the foundation of his outfit, on top of which were piled a shifting array of accessories. On this occasion, he sported an earring with a three-foot-long peacock feather dangling from his left ear.

  There was no warning before the landing; she came in fast. Her actual approach was slower, however, as she cut a casual pace to the edge where he was watching. Once she arrived, he gave a very small nod of greeting. “Lodestar.”

  “Captain Bullshit,” she replied. Taking a long look over the edge, Lodestar surveyed the scene. “Still teaching people to expect the unexpected, I see.”

  “It is the burden of many lifetimes. I simply do my part.” He never really turned to her, his attention locked on the exhibition he’d painstakingly created below.

  “By blocking traffic for miles and causing general disarray.” Lodestar pointed to the long line of lights stretching out into the distance, all caused by the unexpected appearance of a skyscraper-sized pinata and its subsequent destruction.

  Captain Bullshit adjusted his goggles slightly; otherwise, he seemed unaffected by the accusation. “It’s a break in the routine, a crack in the mundane, a chance for people’s lives to take unpredicted turns. Have you come to try and take me back for offering them this opportunity?”

  “I obviously should. This is disturbing the peace at a very bare minimum. The problem is we both know that capturing you is almost impossible, and holding you against your will actually is impossible. Right now, the AHC is stretched thin. Trying to take down a reality-warper of your level would be dangerous, to both us and the surrounding area.”

  “Shall I take it that you concede?” Captain Bullshit shifted slightly, only to find Lodestar directly next to him. He’d never heard a peep or felt so much as a whiff in the wind. Powerful though he was, she couldn’t be brushed aside.

  She nodded down to the street, where the kids were still stuffing their faces with sweets. “Not in the slightest. This sort of stuff, I can live with. It’s far from ideal, but nobody got hurt. Nowhere near worth the death toll from trying to take you down. Don’t change that equation. Don’t become a danger I have to stop. You know where you overstepped last time. Count your years in Rookstone as time served and please don’t make the same mistakes again.”

  At first, she thought he would ignore her, but eventually, Captain Bullshit bobbed his head ever so slightly. “Bound as I am by the direction of the art, I can acknowledge that hurting people in the displays lessens the audience who receives the message as a whole.”

  While it wasn’t a firm commitment to not injure civilians, it was something. Given that Lodestar was dealing with someone whose power to manipulate reality functioned on a planet-wide scale, this was the best outcome she could hope for. Captain Bullshit wouldn’t be stopped easily; she’d only managed to get him into Rookstone through a tactic that wouldn’t work twice. Until they found a way to seal his abilities, it was better to have an occasional nuisance pester the world than have an entire nation be changed into a smoking crater, or worse.

  “I appreciate it,” she said. Lodestar almost took back to the sky, but decided instead to knock out one last question, considering the opportunity. “Since we’re both here, I’ve been wondering about something. We aren’t finding any of the criminals who escaped from Rookstone. It’s like they vanished. No amount of tech or magic can get us a location. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

  For the first time, Lodestar’s words produced a real reaction, a wide grin that brightened Captain Bullshit’s face considerably. “A gift, to them, and to the capes.”

  “How is hiding them a gift for us?”

  The smile only grew bigger. “What glory is there in scooping them up when they are freshly released and weakened? This gives them the chance to recover, grow stronger, offer up a proper challenge to the Alliance of Heroic Champions. You’d have been little more than animal control wrangling escaped beasts. Now, you’ll have the chance to show the world your art once more. I imagine we will be in for glorious displays, once they begin to act in earnest.”

  That more or less confirmed her suspicions, as well as hinting that Captain Bullshit’s protection might fade once the escapees got active. Annoyed as she was by the whole ordeal, Lodestar still forced a polite tone into her voice as she said her farewell. “Really wish you wouldn’t have, but I appreciate the heads up. Remember what we talked about, for everyone’s sake. I much prefer these cordial visits.”

  She flew off into the sky, her light slowly fading, leaving Captain Bullshit continuing to assess his handiwork. He watched her go, saddened by the spectacle. So much power, yet only the barest amount was ever allowed to shine through. One day, he would set a proper stage for her, give the art a genuine outlet. That would be an ambitious project for another time, however.

  For now, he had years of ideas ready to be unleashed, most of which wouldn’t even violate Lodestar’s rule. As for the ones that did, he’d worry about those when he got to them. It wasn’t like he was in a hurry. Captain Bullshit was free, and the world was his canvas. After years in prison, he planned to savor the smaller projects before stirring up any real trouble.

  He couldn’t risk being rusty once the true art began.

  Chapter 65

  Given the choice between navigating the social minefield of a party with two sets of capes she’d been fighting the night prior, or going through guild initiation training again, Tori easily would have suited up for another day of chasing robots with metal orbs inside. Sadly, no one was offering her such an option, which meant she had to step out onto the rooftop with Chloe and Beverly, officially joining the New Science Sentries’ soiree.

  The “decorations” that had been promised were sets of lights running between every remotely elevated point to and fro, creating a twinkling, overhead spiderweb. There were smaller touches, as well—a plant here, a tiki statue there—but it was still a level of decor meant to be broken down when the night was through. Featured prominently in the center was a large barbecue pit from which smoke was already rising, tinged with the mouthwatering scent of something roasting. Next to it were two coolers, one of which was open as the thick-fingered form of Ren pulled a pair of beers from the ice.

  Like everyone else on the rooftop, he looked human, though in his case, Tori suspected trickery was afoot; she’d realized since their first meeting that he was really Medley. Tonight, his appearance was slightly more formal, with a collared shirt squeezing tightly around his robust form. Illusion, hologram, or full-on magic, all that bulk of Medley’s still had to be accounted for.

  While she’d never seen them out of mask, the duo talking to Donald and Austin had to be Hat Trick and Cold Shoulder, by process of elimination. Also, it wasn’t especially hard to guess when seeing them alongside the rest of their team. Both were dressed slightly upscale, like they were going to a corporate cocktail hour. It made Tori glad she’d allowed Beverly to bully her into a blouse instead of an old t-shirt, along with a smattering of makeup. The goal was to minimize standing out, and fitting into the scene helped to make that easier.

  “Pardon us, got some more supplies for the shindig.” Kyle’s voice caused Tori to jump a
side, clearing the rooftop entrance for him, Ellie, and Ike, all arriving with armfuls of accoutrement. Chips, plates, cups, ice, all the party essentials outside of actual refreshments.

  Beverly reached out to help, but her hand closed on empty air as Ike vanished, reappearing next to a table covered by a bright blue tablecloth. “Speak for yourself. Some of us just needed line of sight. So lazy, this one. No wonder we have to keep on him.”

  Ellie was already stalking toward him, the look on her face all the warning Ike needed to dart out of her path.

  Muttering under his breath, Kyle blurred momentarily, depositing his burden onto the table and arranging it neatly before reappearing at Tori’s side only a few seconds later. This wasn’t nearly as fast as Tachyonic moved, however, a detail that Tori couldn’t help but note. How much was the difference with and without the suit, she wondered. And did he have a backup bracer? For the first time, it occurred to Tori she might have taken him out of the field entirely until his tech was back up and running. Even more oddly, that didn’t sit quite right in her stomach. There wasn’t time to process the issue, as Kyle greeted her with the standard stiff half-hug of neither full friends nor casual acquaintances.

  “Glad you three could make it. After last night, we all needed to blow off some steam. Wouldn’t be the same without our neighbors.”

  “It’s a nice gesture, especially for someone you’re just assigned to bodyguard.” Tori didn’t really expect this to work, but it was important to at least try to keep some distance between her and the New Science Sentries.

  To her surprise, Kyle managed an actual laugh. Had losing a fight made him less uptight? Now that was an unexpected side effect. “I guess you’re not wrong, but honestly, at this point, you’re also the only friends we’ve really made in this town. But hey, maybe things are turning around on that front.” His attention was on Donald and the others, who were looking over as well thanks to the flurry of activity.