However, as I rode the elevator up to the one hundredth floor, the other part of me couldn’t help but notice that the Coalition’s underlings were pretty damned stylish. Dressed in black uniforms with clean lines, they were decidedly similar to what I was wearing, except that the addition of blackout masks and cowls only served to make them look cooler. So much for dressing for success. Oh well. Maybe I could turn it into an advantage; exude so much confidence that it looked like I dressed incognito to prove I could stand out without resorting to a flashy uniform.
Except I didn’t have it in me to be that delusional about myself.
When the elevator doors opened, I had to wonder if there was a mistake. The floor was completely dark. There wasn’t even any ambient light coming in from any windows and I was pretty sure this building was made entirely of glass. A hand on my back herded me forward and I noticed a small red dot on the floor in front of me, like a laser pointer one might use to entertain a cat. Ever the obedient cat, I followed the dot several steps before it faded away.
I stopped, realizing the hand on my back had also disappeared. Good thing too, because a second later a spotlight shone down, illuminating a single chair that I surely would have tripped over otherwise.
“Please, have a seat, Miss Raskin.”
The disembodied voice was electronically scrambled, so I did not recognize it as any of the Coalition members. If it was meant to be unsettling, it was overkill. I was already more than a little unsettled and we hadn’t even started the process. But I did as I was told and sat down. The chair, at least, was rather comfortable, but in my sudden onset of self-doubt, I had to wonder if that was some kind of a trap.
As soon as I sat, another light came on, backlighting a long table at which five familiar silhouettes sat. I was starting to wonder if this was really an interview for the Coalition or an overly dramatic reality TV show audition.
“So,” the voice said again. Not a one of the silhouettes moved, so I still had no idea who was talking. “You have been brought before the Coalition of Evil this night as a candidate for membership. Over the last week, each of the current sitting members has had a chance to observe your skills. Each has made their own assessment, however a consensus has not been met. Tonight, you will have the chance to present on your own behalf.”
So, the not-at-all-random encounters with each of the Coalition members had been a test. Color me surprised. Aside from Oddball asking me to black hat my way into what should have been a secured network, their requests were pretty contrived. Well, sort of. Jet Set asking me to chill his wine to an ideal temperature is the kind of snooty thing he would ask of an underling, regardless of whether that underling worked for him or not.
“To begin, a question,” the voice continued. “Why did you choose the path of the Malevolents?”
My fingers involuntarily went to the twisted hunk of charred plastic that I wore on a chain around my neck, squeezing it hard enough to leave an indention in my thumb and forefinger. I imagined doing the same thing to the real Magnificent Man’s head one day.
“An Action Figure was responsible for a tragic event in my life,” I answered, carefully measuring my tone. The last thing I needed was to lose my cool and blow the audition over the very reason I wanted to become a Coalition member in the first place. “While our parents languished in Maxima General’s emergency care, my brother and I disavowed the Liberty Gang and chose to no longer see the world through the distortion of so-called justice.”
There was a light scratching, as if someone was making notes with a pencil on paper, which would have been weird enough given all of the technology we had access to, but it was even weirder because still, the silhouettes remained motionless.
“Ah, yes,” the voice said with a hint of remembrance. “The Magnificent Man Toy-Town Stampede in Sunnyside. Not the first time an Action Figure’s artificially inflated demand caused mass destruction and certainly not the last. Your parents…?”
“Spent the night in observation,” I said, biting my lip to stem the emotions that threatened. “Mom had a fractured rib. Dad wasn’t so lucky. The damage to his back had him in physical therapy for weeks. And the insurance nightmare…”
Again, there was a light scratching, followed by what felt like an eternity of silence. At last, the voice spoke again.
“You’ve demonstrated that your skill level is in advance of the average second tier talent. We have arranged for a small exhibition, if you would not mind.”
A spotlight illuminated the space to my left. Four Coalition underlings stood in a row. Even knowing they were low level interns who likely hadn’t had a chance to hone their talents outside of the practice arenas, their faceless masks made for an impressively intimidating display. I stood, bowing to the shadowed Coalition members before turning to face the underlings.
At the sound of a bell, all four began throwing attacks at me. Fire, wind, lightning, and even another ice talent all began pelting me with everything they had. Deflecting the elementals was pretty easy. Too easy, really. If they really wanted to see an example of my skill, they should have pitted me against a strength talent or a flyer. Within minutes I’d subdued all four elementals. I almost felt bad for using the ice elemental’s own talent against them, but I couldn’t feel too bad. The very first lesson when it came to dealing with similar talents was to attack your own weakness, not play your strength.
The lights went down again and the four interns were shuffled back to wherever they came from. I didn’t know whether I was supposed to stay where I was, go back to my chair, or what, so I kind of shifted awkwardly in place and looked around, hoping someone would get the hint and let me know what I was supposed to do.
No such luck.
Instead, the interns were replaced with four new faceless foes. By the size of three of them, it looked like they found me some heavies. This time, the Coalition got a more impressive show. Two were flyers, one of those a shifter who turned into a dragon, which I admit, was kind of impressive. I’d never actually seen a shifter in person. The third was a speedy little nuisance that ran around throwing random prank bombs, but the last one, nearly twice as wide as my brother and at least two feet taller, was going to be my challenge.
Dodging fire blast from the dragon was something I could do in my sleep thanks to my rivalry with Tabby. The other flyer just seemed to be there as a distraction since they weren’t really doing anything but dive bombing me at inconvenient times. The prankster was annoying, but I was able to quickly dispatch them when they made the mistake of throwing an augmenter right at the same time I formed a slide of ice under their feet. But the heavy, wasn’t playing. All the while, they kept throwing fifty pound kegs at me like I was in some warped version of Donkey Kong.
It took three times as long as the previous fight, but I finally managed to knock the giant off its feet. Again, the lights went down and I heard the scuffling of the interns being removed. The silence was punctuated only by the sounds of furious note taking. At last, the voice spoke once more.
“Impressive, yes, but you’re holding back, aren’t you?”
“Uh, well, I didn’t think you’d be happy if I did any serious damage.”
I winced at the breathless quality in my voice. I didn’t need the Coalition knowing exactly how brutal that last battle had been.
“True,” the voice mused. “However, it has come to our attention that you are capable of quite a bit more than serious damage.”
Well crap. I’d taken every precaution possible to keep the full extent of my talent a secret. The fact that I could kill someone just by touching them was not the kind of thing I advertised and with good reason. But really, I should have known better than to expect that there was anything about me that was secret, including my secret identity.
“We’d like to know if the rumors are true.”
I said nothing, but my mind was reeling and my heart was pounding so hard I was surprised it hadn’t burst out of my ribcage. Surely they weren’t expe
cting me to arbitrarily kill someone? That was a little cold even for the most psychotic of Coalition members. But when the lights came up again, it was clear they took being the bad guys to a level of awful I couldn’t even fathom.
“Are you out of your freaking minds?”
With that outburst, I definitely lost my chance at being a Coalition member, but at that moment, I didn’t give a damn. They didn’t just want me to kill, they wanted a soulless, guiltless, psychopathic monster. My victim? An adorably defenseless piglet.
Now, I’m not a saint and I’ve eaten plenty of pork chops in my life, but this was just too coldblooded for me and yes, I clearly see the irony in what I just said.
“I just…” I stuttered and shook my head, noting that my whole body was shaking. “I’m not that evil.”
The sparkly eyed, pink snouted creature of adorableness flickered once and then disappeared. A moment later, the lights came on, nearly blinding me. Once I could refocus, I nearly jumped out of my skin again as I realized why the Coalition members seemed unnaturally still. In front of me, seated at a long table, were five life-like wax sculptures. If you’ve ever been to a wax museum, you’ll know why I was going to need a lot of alcohol to scrub their vacant eyes from my mind.
“Congratulations, Frostbyte.”
“Huh?” I turned around to see Take, the real Take that is, and the others standing behind me. Oddly, Dr. Cannibal was carrying the piglet like a baby.
“You passed the test,” she said, a strange amusement twinkling in her eye. “Welcome to the Coalition of Evil.”
“I… I’m…”
“Speechless?” Jet Set said with an infuriating smirk.
“Well, you just asked me to kill a baby!”
“That was just to make sure you weren’t unstable,” Manifestation explained.
“But…” I glanced at the squirmy pink bundle in Dr. Cannibal’s arms. “What if I’d actually done it?”
“It was a projection courtesy of Manny,” he assured me. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to Mr. Wigglesworth. I’m a cannibal, not a monster.”
Take gave me a sympathetic smile and steered me back towards the elevators.
“This is our scheduled weekly meeting time and place, so you’ll begin attending those next week. I’ll be in touch before then to get you set up with everything you need to know.” The elevator door opened, revealing another faceless underling. Take beamed at me with another proud smile and stepped aside so I could get in the elevator.
The ride down to the ground floor was in silence, but my brain was running in a million different directions. I’d done it. Somehow, I aced the interview. No longer was I Take’s nerdy second in command. I was Frostbyte: Coalition of Evil A-lister. I was so pumped up on ego that it was amazing my head fit through the elevator doors.
Barely a minute later, I crashed back down to humble town as the valet in the fancy uniform handed me the keys to my car, barely keeping the amused smirk off his face. Whatever. I was a Coalition member. Soon, no one would dare make fun of my ride.
I needed a drink.
I checked the time and saw that if I motored, I could make it to Lucky’s in time for a celebratory drink or two before last call. Then again, I had only a few hours before I had to get up for work. Coalition member or not, I still had a job and I was pretty sure calling in sick would be seen as a sign of weakness. Still, it wasn’t like stopping off for a quick drink was going to set me back too many hours.
I sat at a red light, debating my plan, when a pair of eyes suddenly appeared in my rearview mirror.
“Moving up in the world, eh Frosty?”
Chapter 7
“What the… Are you kidding me?”
I jerked the car back into my lane just in time to avoid a head on collision with what I really hoped wasn’t a police car. Demon Mals from another dimension materializing in my passenger seat were one thing. Vigilante bad boys popping up from my back seat were quite another.
“What the hell are you doing back there?”
Instead of his usual attire, DeMarco wore the uniform of a Coalition underling, so I didn’t need to ask how he got into my car. Although I had to wonder what the Coalition was thinking when they decided faceless thugs in identical, nondescript, full coverage costumes was the way to go. Granted, I couldn’t really talk seeing as I too was gawking at how cool they looked and completely missed the fact that in the movies, this was the go-to vulnerability for the good guys to exploit. I made a note to bring that up to Take as soon as I had a chance.
“Me? I was just thinking about how grateful I am that my high school car wasn’t a Fiesta,” he quipped, making a show of trying to get comfortable while thrusting his hips and making lewd gestures that were entirely unnecessary. “I don’t even think there’s enough room back here for MicroMan and Flea Girl to get it on. Although…” He stuck his head between the seats and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m ready and willing to challenge that assessment if you are.”
“I’m really not in the mood for your games right now, DeMarco.”
“Uh oh! The last name treatment.” He shot me an entirely unconvincing wounded expression and began climbing over the center console to sit in the front seat. Somehow I managed to keep the car on the road while dodging flailing limbs and being teabagged by the surprisingly limber oaf. “So, what did I do to deserve it this time, Frosty?”
“Aside from thieving all of my underwear?”
“I was gonna give ‘em back, eventually… after you’ve… earned them.” He punctuated his words with an appraising sidelong glance. I’m not even ashamed to admit that the smoldering look combined with the sleek black ensemble left my insides a quivering puddle of jelly despite how annoyed I was at him.
“Is that so?” I muttered, pushing aside the distracting thoughts. The clock on my dashboard showed how precious few hours I had before work. I needed sleep, not a heart pounding workout... Okay, so steeling my resolve was proving to be a difficult proposition. “You still haven’t answered my question, buck-o.”
“I already forgot it,” he said with a mock yawn, crossing one giant leg over the other and nearly knocking the car out of gear in the process. Honestly, for someone whose whole career was built on stealth, Dee could be amazingly oblivious to his surroundings.
“Why were you spying on me?” I repeated, putting one hand on the gearshift, just in case he decided he needed to make himself comfortable.
“I wasn’t spying on you.”
“Really.” I shot him a sideways look.
“Really. All I was doing was investigating a rumor that the Coalition might be adding a member.”
“I fail to see the difference,” I said with a sigh. “And that doesn’t tell me why.”
“Don’t it? Come now, Frosty, you’re a smart cookie, so don’t play dumb. You know I take these gigs for the same reason I take any job. I’m in it for the money, honey.”
“Don’t call me honey,” I snapped just as the lightbulb went on over my head, making me feel like a complete dumbass. “Wait a minute. Gigs, plural? How long has the LG been paying you to give them dirt on me?”
“Since you started making a name for yourself.”
The bastard had the audacity to wink when he said that. Meanwhile, my insides twisted into complicated knots. The last thing I needed was for my chance to finally see my dreams come true to be completely mucked up because I made the mistake of sleeping with the enemy.
I drove the rest of the way in silence. It was only about two miles, but it felt like an eternity had passed before I finally pulled into the garage beneath my apartment building. I didn’t even bother to make sure I’d parked straight before I was out of the car. I needed to put some distance between me and the traitorous asshole.
Okay, so maybe traitorous wasn’t fair. After all, he was still a ‘Fig, even if he was dubiously so. I had only myself to blame for ignoring the rational part of my brain that had tried to warn me I was getting in over my head.
“Inviting me up?”
I’d hoped to catch the elevator before he caught up with me, but between his longer stride and the creaky old thing, I should have known that wasn’t going to happen either.
“It’s a work night,” I said, adding an edge to my voice.
“And that matters because…?”
“Because maybe I don’t want a dirty LG spy up in my apartment?”
I turned away, giving the call button another couple of completely unnecessary smacks, as if hitting it harder would make the car appear faster. It was dumb, but I also freely admit to wiggling the mouse on a lagging computer despite having a degree and enough common sense to tell me that don’t work either.
“Babe, you’re worrying for all the wrong reasons.”
“Am I?”
“The LG don’t care about you. They just want the goods on Frostbyte.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
He raised his eyebrows and shook his head.
“For a genius, you can be pretty dense at times.”
“Well then, oh smart one, why don’t you enlighten me?”
“They don’t know, nor have they ever asked about Lisa.”
“You’re serious?” I asked, my brain refusing to believe that I was interpreting him correctly.
“Yeah, for once, I am,” he said, leaning in with a smug smile just as the elevator arrived. He looked over at the slow opening door and back at me with an eyebrow raised in question.
“Come on then,” I said with a resigned sigh and slipped past him, punching the button for my floor without even checking to see if he followed. I didn’t have to. The elevator was old and rickety enough that I felt the shake and rattle.
A Shot at the Big Time Page 6
