He kept staring at her.
She let out an annoyed breath. “I’m not joining your team, Deacon.”
“Why?” he asked, his tone clipped.
“Because.” She sniffed in indignation. “I’m thinking of joining The Krait’s team.”
Deacon gasped, choking on a handful of nuts. “Elton!?! That dude’s not a villain! He’s a pervert! You ever ask yourself why his team is filled with nothing but hot women?”
“No, but you have apparently.” Her eyes narrowed, feeling irritated with him for noticing the women. “What, are you jealous?”
“Jealous? Of Elton?” Deacon put on a show of looking dismissive of that idea but wasn’t quite pulling it off. “Why would I be jealous of someone like Elton? I mean, I don’t care if you’d apparently rather be around him than me.” He chewed on his snack, obviously stewing in his anger. “And what the fuck kind of name is ‘The Krait’ anyway? Why not go for a snake someone’s actually heard of like ‘King Snake’ or something?”
“It’s already trademarked.” Mia answered matter-of-factly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to join your team because…” She struggled to find the right words. “Because you’re not a nice man.”
“I could be,” he told her. “You tell me what you what me to be, and I swear to God I’ll be it.” He leaned closer to her. “I can be someone you’d be proud of, Mia. I’m The Bad Guy, but I could be a good man… if you just gave me a chance.” He reached his hand up to gently caress her cheek. “Please?”
Mia met the intense green of his eyes and found herself seriously considering his offer. The man really wasn’t so bad…
She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his warm hand on her face.
There were worse partners she could have, weren’t there? He was respected in the villain community after all.
She looked into his eyes again.
And very good looking…
He leaned closer to her, moving his face towards hers. Her heart rate sped up until it felt like it was about to burst from her chest, and she leaned in to meet him.
Then she came to her senses and pulled back before whatever was about to happen happened.
She put her hands up. “Okay. What. The. Fuck?” She asked in astonishment and betrayal. “What kind of game are you playing now, Deacon!?!”
He let out a sigh like he’d just lost something and suddenly looked more tired than she’d ever seen him. “Not playing any games, Mia.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just trying to help you.”
“You know what?” She tossed some money onto the bar. “How about you not try to ‘help me,’ okay? Because you’re only trying to ‘help me’ right now, because I’m depressed and probably a little drunk, and you see the perfect opportunity to swoop in and make me feel worse about myself.”
He frowned down at the bar. “You’re really tipping that little bartender $30? For what!?!” He promptly pocketed the twenty. “$10 is more than enough for the less-than-stellar service she provided.” He reached down to grab the $10 as well. “In fact, way more than enough.” He tossed a quarter onto the bar instead.
She made an annoyed sound and began storming from the bar. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate it when you do that?”
“Do what?” He hurried after her. “Refuse to get dragged into your latest delusion about helping those below your station in life?”
“No, change the subject after I point out how idiotic you’re being!” She pushed her way out onto the street. “You’re telling me you weren’t making a really awkward pass at me just now?”
He seemed to think about that for a moment. “No, I was.”
“Oh, you absolutely were! Don’t give me that! You were…” She trailed off, finally processing his words. “Wait. What?”
“I’m not going to deny making a pass at you, no.” He shook his head and met her gaze. “I took my shot, and I’m not sorry.”
She was literally too shocked to say anything. “I’m sorry?” She finally breathed, still needing clarification. “You’re not going to… like… come up with some lame excuse or joke about it or anything?”
“No.”
“Please?” She wasn’t so sure she liked where this conversation was headed. She needed him to laugh it off or something because if he didn’t, their relationship was going to go somewhere it had never been before, and she wasn’t sure it would ever come back from there.
She might not always like Deacon, but she always needed him. If he was about to endanger that, she was going to beat his ass.
He shook his head and took a step towards her. “I’m not joking. This isn’t part of some game I’m playing, and if I were trying to get you drunk, I would have waited a couple more rounds before making my move.” He walked closer to her, his body brushing against hers. He reached down to take her hands. “I want you on my team. I want you with me. Always.”
She met his eyes again. “Deacon?” She tried to think of something to say and came up empty. “Just take a little time, consider, don’t commit yourself. We’ll forget this happened…”
“If you’re giving me the ‘we can still be friends speech,’ I’m warning you: I will destroy this city.” He nodded seriously. “I have the capability and hearing that would just push me over the edge.”
She let go of his hand. “This is just…” She started to say something, then stopped. Then tried again and failed. “It’s just weird. I’ve known you forever.” She decided her best course of action was to flee the scene as quickly as possible. “I think we should just forget all about this and go back to being evil.”
He hurried after her. “But I don’t want to forget it, Mia.”
“Well I do.”
“Yeah, but you’re drunk right now.” He waived a dismissive hand. “Once you sober up a little, you’ll see that I’m not such a bad guy.”
She turned to stare at him incredulously. “You just said that I wasn’t drunk!” she reminded him. “Remember? What? I’m not so drunk that you can’t sleep with me, but I am too drunk to decide whether or not I’m in love with you?”
“Well…” He thought about it for a minute. “Yeah.” He admitted. “But I mean, I totally would have felt guilty about it in the morning.”
“You are unbelievable.” She pushed her way back into the convention hall.
“Yeah, but that’s what you’d be saying in the morning, too, so that would take the sting off, you know?” He winked at her.
“A good man would be concerned about my honor right now and not trying to convince me to jump into anything while I’m inebriated.”
“If it gets you to join up with me, I’d buy you shots all night long or become the world’s most dedicated member of AA.” He moved closer to her again. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.” He smoothed her hair from off of her forehead. “I will change it, build it, make it, kill it, rescue it, kidnap it, steal it, endorse it, or free it.” He leaned closer to her. “You name it, and it’s yours.”
She swallowed, feeling very nervous again. “Please don’t,” she whispered.
“Are you asking me to stop, or are you telling me to stop?”
“Is there a difference?”
“If you’re asking me to stop, I’m going to ignore you, because I’m a bad guy. If you’re telling me to stop, I’ll stop, because I’m not that bad a guy.”
When you really came down to it, he probably wasn’t. Annoying, sure, but more "ornery" bad rather than "evil" bad. Or at the very least, not evil to her. He’d never been anything but gentle with her when he was being serious. He had a tendency to find the faults in her plans, but it wasn’t malicious. He was just trying to tell her what he thought. He was trying to help.
Once, her car had broken down in the middle of nowhere at three in the morning, and Deacon had driven over an hour and a half out into the country to pick her up and drive her home. Despite the fact that he was currently the subject of a two state super-hero manhunt
and had spent five months in captivity as a result of helping her.
He always called her mother on her birthday and sent her beautiful flowers.
He bought her puppy expensive treats and toys.
When she was nineteen, Deacon’s father died as a result of testing some genetic modification serum on himself, and as they used a construction crane to lower pallet after pallet of barrels containing the man’s oozy mutated body into the ground, Deacon had just stood there in the cold rain and watched. To this day, she could see his blank pale expression as he stared unseeingly into the large hole created by the fourteen grave plots required to inter the entire blobby mass his father’s body had become. She waited after the service to express her condolences, and Deacon shook the hand of each of the mourners, stoically thanking them for attending and for remembering his father. And when everyone else had gone and it had come to her turn, the man had simply broken down in her arms.
It was the most heartbreaking thing she had ever seen.
His perpetually smug and flirtatious expression was transformed into one of pure anguish, and he collapsed into the mud crying on her shoulder.
But the next day, he was back to making prank calls to the Freedom Squad and leaving her name and address. Back to calling her at odd hours and asking her what she was doing. Back to making charitable donations in her name to causes which she was zealously against.
He was back to being Deacon.
The man had a good heart. He was an asshole, yes, but a nice one. And she never had to worry about which side he would come down on. Not once in the entire time she had known him did she ever stop and wonder about that. If she called, he would come. Period. She might not like what he did or what he had to say when he actually showed up, but he’d be there all the same.
In a world of super-villains dedicated to doing evil and always trying to climb the social ladder, it was often hard to make long-term friendships. Deacon however, had always been her family and best friend. Always been there for her… whether she wanted him there or not.
Always…
She loved him.
The realization popped into her head as if she was hearing someone else tell her.
No… No, she didn’t…
Shit. She totally did.
And suddenly her life made sense. That was why she hadn’t killed him years ago! That was why she put up with all the irritating shit he did! Why she’d never joined another team!
She was in love with him!
“Wow,” she whispered to herself.
He frowned in confusion. “Huh?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Just realized something, that’s all.”
“Realized what?” His face was inches from hers now, his voice low and gravelly. “Please tell me what you want.”
“I just… I don’t…” She met his eyes again. “Fuck.” She finally whispered in annoyance at herself for getting into this situation. She moved her hand to the back of his head.
His lips slammed into hers like it had been years in the making. His hands positioned themselves on either side of her face, holding her there, just in case she tried to run away or something. He backed her up into the wall, pressing his body against hers, his movements desperate. He lifted her onto one of the decorative tables which lined the hall, paying no attention to the vase which fell to the floor.
“I’ve loved you my entire life, Mia. You know that, right?” He took off his coat and tossed it aside. “Once, when I was thirteen, your mom was having a pool party to celebrate some Cape they had gotten falsely imprisoned, and you walked out wearing this little black and white checkered thing… And it was like puberty kicked me in the junk and said: ‘That’s a woman! That’s the woman!’” He shook his head. “And every day since, I’ve wanted you so much it made me want to cry.”
“Uh-huh.” Mia didn’t care about any of that. Nice to know but wasn’t a prerequisite. “Whatever.”
He pulled at her jacket, tugging it down off her shoulders and using it to pin her elbows to her body, trapping her arms. “Do you know how often I’ve thought about that day?”
She set about kissing his neck. “No, but I’m hoping it wasn’t very often because I don’t want to think about you getting turned-on by thirteen year olds.”
He began unbuttoning the front of her blouse. “Wow, thanks for turning that into something even dirtier.” He parted the fabric, his hands gently caressing her breasts. “My God…”
She pulled him closer, rubbing his hard body against her. “I think we should go upstairs.”
His hand began to slowly move up her inner thigh, pushing up the fabric of her skirt. “Why? I’m fine right here.”
She made a soft gasp, meeting his eyes as his fingers found her. “…Deacon.”
“What?” He kissed her softly on her lips, his fingers gently rubbing her.
“Deacon, I…”
The automatic weapons fire cut off what she had been about to say. The rounds tore through the wall around her, and she instantly went into her intangible state as a reflex. Without her body to support him, Deacon stumbled forward and was promptly hit in the shoulder by one of the rounds. He swore viciously and dove for cover in the adjoining hallway.
She rematerialized beside him a moment later. “Sorry.” She squeaked in apology. She looked down at the wound. “Oh, God! Are you okay?”
“Fine. Just a scratch.” He got back to his feet and took her hand. “Let’s go.”
She hurried after him. “We should circle around to the side door of the convention center if we’re going to figure out what’s going on in there.”
He snorted. “Who cares?” He pressed the button for the elevator. “We’re going to my room.”
“We can’t just abandon the other guests, Deacon!”
“The hell, we can’t! I’m The Bad Guy, remember?” He pressed the button several more times in an effort to get the elevator to hurry. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this?”
She pulled her hand free. “My mother’s in there.”
He made a face of pure pain, then kicked over the nearby trash can in frustration. “Fine.” He started towards the side entrance. “You’re right; we’ll go save her. Then we’ll go upstairs.”
“I think we should try to help as many people as we can.”
“Yep. One. The rest of those losers are on their own.”
They walked around to the other door and stood on the balcony overlooking the lobby below. Yelling could be heard, as something bad happened inside the party.
Behind them, the doors flew open, and Holly and Julian reappeared, arguing about something. The woman shook her head. “They’re fucking fish, Jules! I mean, it’s not like they’re going to invent some higher form of mathematics or something. They just want to swim around and eat! Who cares if they’re kept in a fountain!?!”
The man drew himself up to his full height. “Do not seek to tell me what fish…”
Mia put her hand up to her lips. “Shhh!” She snapped, pointing at the doors below them. “They’ll hear you!”
“So?” Holly looked confused, then noticed Mia’s disarrayed clothing. She gave her a thumbs up sign. “Nice. Told you to just have a little fun with him. I can totally understand why you had to get loaded first though, because he is kinda a…”
“Shhh!” Mia ordered again, buttoning her blouse. “There’s someone shooting in there, and we need to go in and get my mother.” She pointed down to the party. “Will you help?”
Holly shrugged. “Sure. Why not? All the food’s in there, anyway.”
“So am I to understand that our goal is to rescue this surface woman’s mother?” Julian asked, looking serious.
“Right.” Deacon nodded. “We go in there, and we get her out.”
“Excellent.” Julian nodded, looking pleased. “Then none of this concerns me.” He turned and started from the scene. “Goodbye.”
She blinked after him. “So he’s just really going to l
eave then?”
Holly nodded. “Yeah, he does that. You get used to it. Too bad your mom wasn’t being held captive by an insane waiter at ‘Red Lobster’ or something, because Jules would be aaaaaall over that shit.” She grinned again, dimples cutting into her rosy cheeks. “God, I fucking love my team! Don’t you?”
Mia rolled her eyes and pointed to the lobby below where several men with guns were standing, guarding the doors. “Can we please just concentrate on getting in there without dying?”
“Relax.” Holly pushed passed them. “I got this.”
Mia made an uncertain noise. “I don’t know. There are a lot of them, Holl.”
“You’re kidding, right? Me and five guys dressed in leather and chains?” She winked. “Sounds like any Friday at my house.” She smiled in her deceptively innocent looking way. “Oh, I think I’m going to have some fun.” She vaulted the railing and landed on the floor below in a crouch. The men assembled around the room immediately moved forward to attack her. She braced her feet apart and used her gloved hands to beckon the men closer. “Let’s jingle all the way, motherfuckers!”
Mia and Deacon used the distraction to race down the stairs and through the doors to the event, as chaos erupted in the lobby. They burst into the party to find the attendees huddled in one corner, a team of villains standing over them.
To her surprise, Elton was stalking back and forth in front of them. “And yes, I’m counting watches, as ‘jewelry’ people, so don’t try to hold out on me.”
Deacon made a disgusted face. “What kind of person steals from another super-villain?” he whispered to her.
“You?” She guessed.
“No, no. I mean, what kind of person steals from innocent villains?”
“Ah.” She refocused on the action, then turned back to look at him again. “You?”
He made a face at her. “See, this is why no one wants you on their team.”
“The more that I think about it, the more I’m convinced that no one wants me on their team because you’ve undoubtedly threatened, bribed or begged all of them to exclude me!”
“That is not true, Mia.” He shook his head emphatically. “I would never do that… No begging was involved. Not at all.”
Powerless Against You Page 11
