Bones of the Past (Villains' Code Book 2)

by Drew Hayes

  Zipping through an off-ramp, Kyle left the training track, blurring into the waiting room where Austin was doing push-ups. “Can you not let me catch up for a moment before you go off training on your own?”

  “No can do. That Bahamut fight was tough as hell. I’m not sure I could have won if it had gone the distance. That means my only option is to get stronger for next time.”

  About what Kyle had expected. It had been some while since Austin lost to anyone outside an established cape. Going against a real opponent had gotten him stirred up. There was a renewed fire, spurred on by the reminder of how much room there still was to grow. Not beating Lodestar was one thing; having some random crook hold their own against him was a different matter entirely.

  Flexing his right hand, Kyle checked the bracer functions while it cooled down, his suit no longer crackling with energy. As it changed, his senses slowed—never quite down to human levels, but nowhere near what he could do in peak Tachyonic form. “The new model is working fine. Going to take a while to get used to, so I’ll log some extra training hours when I can.”

  With a look to the track, Kyle’s mind flashed to their practice chambers on Vomisa. “Might swing by the island once I’m feeling more stable. The facilities here aren’t quite as challenging as what I’m used to.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with training that doesn’t put you at risk of bodily harm.” Austin finished his push-up set, rising to his feet. “You looked good out there, didn’t seem to be missing a step. How do you feel?”

  “Stupid, mostly,” Kyle admitted. “I can’t believe I got my bracer cracked by some asshole already.”

  The heavy hand patting Kyle on the back was familiar, annoying, and unprotested. “I think you’re being hard on yourself. You say ‘some asshole,’ but those two were meta-humans with training and preparation, ones who’ve squared off with capes before. Donald’s team suspects they’re connected to that guild of villains. Not the sort of enemy easily brushed aside.”

  All of which was true, but Austin was skipping over the fact that everyone else had at worst been handed a draw. There was no denying that Tachyonic had lost. He knew there had been fallout from Professor Quantum, and that Austin was probably shielding him from it, which only made the guilt he felt over failing all the worse.

  That wasn’t something an apology was going to fix, however. The only course Kyle had was to improve. Get better, stronger, and hell yes, faster, so that when the next bout came, he’d be an asset rather than a fuckup Austin had to take heat for.

  “Next time I see Hephaestus, he won’t get the chance to surprise me.” Heat rose in his cheeks, his mind flitting back to the after-incident report they’d been given. “I can’t believe there aren’t warrants for those bastards.”

  Another few pats, though these were more subdued. “The law is the law, and ultimately, there was never any proof they were committing a crime. I wish we hadn’t ended up being their alibi, though.” Austin had been the first to learn about the slaughter in the same town where they’d been fighting, and he’d quickly passed it on to the others. Whatever happened in that blood-drenched place, Hephaestus and Bahamut couldn’t have been present. All meta-forensics indicated it was still going on when the New Science Sentries were on the scene.

  “They’re smart.” Kyle tapped a few more buttons, finishing off the cool-down cycle on his suit. Donald and Ren had recounted the way Hephaestus used the law against them. Whoever that crook was, he came at unexpected angles. “We’ll have to be smarter.”

  “For the moment, I’ll just be happy when you’re back at full power,” Austin said, steering them away from the topic of vengeance. “I never feel comfortable without you watching my back.”

  One last shake of the arm to make sure everything was holding well, and Kyle fully powered off the bracer. This was the third test, and so far, there hadn’t been any glitches. The new unit was working just fine. Time to take it out of the lab and make sure it could handle the actual work.

  “In that case, buzz the team and go grab a mask. I think it’s time to put this baby through its paces.”

  “You’ll pay us to... cause trouble.” To look at Edna, one would form some fast opinions based on her appearance. Being a burly meta meant she had a tall, muscular frame. Unfortunately, some of the side effects of her condition included a receding hairline and unnaturally colored acne. By modern standards of beauty, she wouldn’t be winning any hearts. Not that it mattered; Edna wasn’t running things because of her looks, or even her strength. She had a keen eye for details and a gut that never steered her wrong—that was why the others trusted her.

  At the moment, that gut was screaming that this guy was trouble, same as it had when Balaam came calling. The sorcerer had seen her people as nothing more than cannon fodder, and Edna knew what happened to fodder in a battle. This gentleman was making a more enticing pitch, yet she still kept her guard up.

  “That is correct,” Wendel Worthington replied. He was stoic, only smiling thinly at any attempts toward levity or ice-breaking. There something about his eyes that set Edna’s nerves buzzing: twin voids lacking any sort of human connection. “Specifically, to cause trouble at a time and general geographic area of my choosing. Transportation can be arranged, or you may handle it with your own resources, if security is a concern.”

  “My concern is not security.” Edna pointed a thick finger up to the restaurant’s tastefully painted ceiling. In this private room, it displayed a lovely design of interwoven circles. “My concern is the people who zip around through the sky, smacking the shit out of any crime they spot. We lay low, Mr. Worthington. Stay off the radar of the big fish. What you’re proposing sounds a lot like the riots that got so many people tossed in jail a few months ago.”

  At that, Wendel bristled. “Certainly not. Balaam’s hubris allowed him to think he could actually win, which is preposterous. This is merely a strike during a window of opportunity. I happen to have it on good authority that there will soon come a day in which all of the major capes are occupied. When that time arrives, those with forewarning will be able to pounce, taking advantage of their distraction. However, there are always new members of the AHC joining, and I’d prefer to work uninterrupted. Your job would be to help cause enough mayhem that the remaining forces are scattered. Should a cape close in on your particular position, feel free to escape. Reach that point, or make it until the end; I’ll consider the job accomplished, regardless.”

  The offer to run made it more enticing—Edna never went into any situation without an exit strategy. From the trolley of food sitting at the side of their table, she pulled off a rib and bit into it, bone and all. It was a trick she’d picked up initially for negotiation intimidation, but was also a handy way to get at the tasty marrow within. Seeing as Wendel was bothering to butter her up at a nice restaurant, she might as well enjoy it.

  “How big of an area are we talking? A city, a block? How much room do I have to work in? Some of those capes can close in awfully fast.”

  There it was, that thin smile, like he was afraid to stretch his mouth. “A fine question. You will be given an area of roughly ten square miles within a major metropolis. Ample space to select targets, as well as adequate cover should escape or concealment be necessary. Also large enough that, were you afraid I was laying some sort of trap, the area would be much too large for an ambush.”

  “Depends on how many forces you brought.” Edna didn’t really believe her own words; she knew her gang wasn’t high enough on the food chain to warrant such effort. If they pissed off someone truly dangerous, they’d be butchered where they stood. Traps were laid for tougher prey. “But ten square miles of city isn’t bad. That’s about four football fields’ worth of stuff, and in an urban environment, it’ll be packed with options.” Since Wendel only wanted chaos, Edna wouldn’t even have to mess with well-defended targets like banks or stores. She could focus her people’s efforts on activities that were flashy, with minimal risk of capt
ure. Hit hard, steal a little extra, then escape before things got too hot.

  In front of Wendel sat only a single cup, filled with hot tea. He lifted the drink from the saucer and touched it briefly to his mouth. Edna wasn’t completely sure she’d seen him imbibe or ingest a single bit of their meal together. Not the strangest thing, perhaps. Different cultures had different attitudes toward eating in public, and more than a few meta-humans were self-conscious about how they looked while dining. He could have just said that, though. It was the seeming pretense, the pretending to drink, that put her on edge. Between that, the smile, and those damned eyes, Edna felt very much like she was across from something playing at being human.

  Issues aside, what he was pitching might indeed be lucrative. Based on the few details being doled out, Edna could guess he’d made a similar pitch to other outfits, with more to come. A game like this relied on numbers; Wendel wanted enough noise to drown out whatever he was planning. That meant there would be plenty of people causing trouble, and her team, ideally, would not stand out. So long as they came at it smart, picked the right targets to avoid pulling in any capes or cops, it should be possible to do the job, get the money, and avoid ending up in a cold cell. They were going to be ready to run, though; this was not a situation where Edna wanted to overextend.

  “Assuming the details line up with what we can manage, I think this could be a working arrangement.” Edna was careful to leave herself an out, just in case. People like this didn’t react well to plans changing, but there was no way she was giving total commitment until everything was settled.

  “I am glad to hear it, and I have faith we’ll be able to come to terms on the minor matters.” Wendel lifted his cup once more, only this time, there was no thin smile waiting. At last, those lips truly parted, revealing teeth that were artificially white, then kept on stretching, well past the point of good taste.

  Now, Edna understood why Wendel kept his face so neutral. When it twisted in emotion, the wrongness of it all could be seen. Something off, inhuman, in the way that mouth kept growing, revealing more and more of those near glowing teeth. He lifted the cup higher, making a short cheers.

  “To new business.” She watched as he tossed the tea down his throat, not even reacting to the steaming liquid splashing against tender mouth-flesh.

  With great effort, Edna kept a tremor of fear from making it to her hands as she lifted her own glass of water. Under that watchful dark eye and hideous smile, she drank, already wondering if this was all a terrible mistake.

  Chapter 70

  It was a meeting that complicated things. Originally, the plan had been simple. Ivan would leave work a few hours early—with permission, of course—to go pick up Beth. He’d then circle back to scoop up Tori as her day was finishing, bringing both of them to the meeting point. There, they would join the rest of the cluster on a rented bus that would take them to the End of Summer Shindig. Slightly inefficient, but it minimized the amount of potential crossover between his lives.

  Unfortunately, once Danny from marketing got on a roll, he could run for quite a while. That had turned what was supposed to be a simple spec meeting into a brainstorming session for new features and ideas, none of which would ultimately be implemented. Losing time was bad enough; losing it to pointless ego would have put Ivan in a foul mood under different circumstances. Faced with the prospect of a weekend spent bonding with his daughter, though, Ivan’s temperament was softer than usual. It was hard to be mad when something so wonderful was on the horizon.

  A positive outlook didn’t solve the issue, however. That honor had fallen to Ivan’s pragmatism, which quickly outlined the easiest solution to stay on schedule. He could either send Tori in one of the guild cars, or bring her along to pick up Beth. Except, Tori arriving separately would invite needless questions, since he and Beth had already gone over their existing travel plans. It would probably be a small matter to explain them away, but Ivan’s recent experience with Rick was an excellent reminder that minor inconsistencies added up over time. The fewer questions asked, the fewer answers sought.

  “You okay? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were nervous.” Tori had largely been staring out the window as they made their way across Ridge City to Janet’s home. Something must have caught her attention, as she’d shifted her focus to Ivan. He didn’t feel as if he was showing the stress that badly, which meant he either wasn’t hiding it as well as he thought or Tori was getting better at reading him. Not a huge surprise—they were similar people who spent large amounts of time together—but also not a development Ivan was fully comfortable with.

  The drive to Janet’s was rote after so many years; Ivan may as well have been one of Wade’s bots for all the mental effort it demanded to take the proper highway exit, plunging them into the outlands of suburbia. Ivan had been debating how much to tell Tori. He didn’t want to color her perceptions needlessly, but if she’d picked up on his energy, then forewarned was likely the best strategy. “There is a chance you’ll meet my ex-wife today. She’s working from home, so depending on whether or not she’s on a call when we arrive, Janet may come out to bid Beth farewell.”

  He watched surprise morph to curiosity, then continue its evolution to speculation, all in a single brown-eyed blink from Tori. There was no guessing what sorts of images she’d conjured for the former Mrs. Fornax, save only that all of them were wrong. Nobody ever saw Janet coming—it was part of what made her all the more dangerous.

  “Anything particular I should know going in?” A sudden sheen of fear washed over her face. “Oh shit, wait, what does she think our relationship is? Did she get the uncle story, or is it like with the kids, and I should stick to just being coworkers?”

  A perfectly reasonable question, one that nevertheless pained Ivan to answer. He’d had to read Janet in on Tori at the start. She needed to know the cover story, and deserved forewarning about potential threats to the family, had Tori turned out to be that particular brand of evil. It still felt like a small betrayal to have given away part of Tori’s secret to someone else.

  “She knows you’re part of the guild. I never went into specifics on powers or the like, but Janet is aware of our real connection.”

  “Yeeesh. Couldn’t you just have said I was some prospect with a shitload of potential that the company would be eternally lesser without?”

  Ivan cocked an eyebrow. “Eternally lesser?”

  “I’ll have you know that I’m the one who reformatted the meeting request form. You think that bad boy shrank two pages on its own?” Tori rapped her knuckles against the dash, putting extra punctuation on her next words. “Eternally. Lesser.”

  “Don’t get too carried away. If you remove all the bottlenecks and slow-downs, people will realize management doesn’t actually do anything.”

  Affecting a solemn nod, Tori appeared to consider this revelation. “You’re right. I can’t go down that road. Getting rid of middle management is more a cape move than a villain one. I guess I should... add more hurdles?”

  “That’s called working toward a promotion.” Ivan’s mood brightened as he turned down a familiar lane. Anxious as he was about the potential collision of worlds, the worry was having a hard time overtaking his excitement for the weekend ahead.

  They pulled into the driveway and Ivan killed the engine, reaching for his seatbelt. By the time it was unclicked, he could see the figure walking out the front door. Part of him had hoped Beth would be waiting, so eager for the trip she’d come bursting from the house with bags in hand. Sadly, the figure was much too tall to be Beth, though it perhaps did offer some insight into the height she could one day inherit. Janet was dressed for work—matching jacket and skirt atop a pressed shirt, even though nobody was around to see it. That was just her, one of the eccentricities Ivan had acclimated to in their marriage. It wasn’t as if he’d had any room to throw stones.

  Her finger rapped against the passenger window, startling Tori slightly. With one glance to Ivan
for confirmation, which he gave, she rolled down the window, allowing Janet to speak.

  “Beth couldn’t find her phone charger. She’s hunting around for it.” Now that the partition was no longer between them, Janet gave Tori a more thorough examination, adjusting her glasses midway through. “You must be Tori, the one who’s been helping out with the cluster. Pleasure to meet you.”

  Through the open window, they shook hands, Janet continuing to stare. “You, as well. Ivan’s told me such nice things about you.”

  “No, he hasn’t. He’s been respectful, but also made it clear I’m a pain in the ass.” Janet finished shaking Tori’s hand, releasing unceremoniously. “I have to live most of my life lying, thanks to Ivan’s past, so let’s dispense with it where unneeded.”

  Brusque, though Tori was hard-pressed to say it was inaccurate. Hiding a major villain as a husband, ex or current, was bound to be a complicated matter. She was having enough trouble keeping her own identity secret, and that was without anywhere near the fame of Fornax.

  “It keeps things simpler, anyway. Look at it this way: if I weren’t in the know, there’s really only one believable cover to use when a middle-aged man pulls up to his ex’s house with a younger woman.”

  “Janet!” Ivan hissed, while Tori felt a small bit of blood rise to her face.

  She paid little attention to either, most of her focus remaining on the door. “Relax. We already established I’m aware that’s not the case. The lie wouldn’t work, anyway. I know it’s not the younger ones who catch your fancy.”

  This time, there was nothing subtle about the blush, as Tori realized she was getting back-scenes extras on this relationship that she very much did not want to know. Deciding that it was better to jump into the awkwardness than sit through wherever it was this was heading, Tori spat the first words that leapt to her mind.