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Chapter 25
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The elevator door opened on the twenty-fifth floor. This wasn’t the tallest tower in Paragon by far, but Adamast thought that she and Saelum Blaster might have taken the longest elevator ride in the history of the city.

As they walked onto the floor, Adamast saw a fight going on all over the place. Members of the Dallevan League were combating forces who appeared to be equipped with rifles and arcane-powered nightsticks.

There was an explosion in one room, and a man went flying from that room into another one across the hallway. The same man happened to scream in a way that sounded like the stupid, fake ones only heard in TV shows and movies. Adamast would have remarked about that, but somehow that was trumped by Ohm Wire appearing a short distance from the elevator.

“What took you guys so long?” Ohm Wire asked.

Adamast Cross opened her mouth to speak, but every word she could come up with was suddenly too embarrassing. She closed it back up and cleared her throat while looking Saelum Blaster’s way. He had an awkward expression of his own.

“No way,” Ohm Wire said. “The two of you?” Her gaze passed them towards the elevator. “In there? Seriously? And I thought I had a kinky side.”

“Ohm Wire,” Adamast began.

“What? Can’t I be happy for my girlfriend?”

“How can you be so accepting of this? And, what the hell is going on up here?”

“We lost the signal to your earpiece. When Mortar hacked this place’s security and found that an elevator had been stopped, we decided it would be a good idea to take action. It’s a good thing, too, because they had more than a dozen guns aimed, and a few flash grenades primed, for when you got up here. As for why I’m able to accept the two of you getting it on, it’s because, well, we’ll talk about it later. OK?”

Saelum asked, “So, what about our original reasons for coming here?”

“Walter’s interrogating the CEO of this business now. Our boss, I mean. He’s got War Lagoon with him.”

Adamast pulled out her earpiece and reactivated it before sticking it in her ear. “Walter?”

“Ah, Adamast!” Walter said over the earpiece. “I trust you and Saelum Blaster are well?”

“Great, Walter. Listen. I don’t know how many of these people are in on the illegal activities around here, but I have a concern about the ones who aren’t. If whoever’s in charge is locked away, I hate think what will happen to everyone’s jobs. Is there any way you can pull some strings to save their employment?”

“I’ll see what I can do. If the front business has to be liquidated, I’ll make sure someone can step in to take over the legitimate business.”

“Thanks.” She removed the earpiece again.

Ohm Wire said, “What was that?”

“That was me, making a change around here. The last thing we need is people losing jobs and risking a life of crime because of something that wasn’t their fault.”

Sure, many of these people could just find work elsewhere. Some might be lucky enough to skip only a week or two of pay, some a month or three. Adamast had seen enough good people turn to desperate measures, which was a dangerous thing in Paragon City, in the west coast city of Cap au Mercy, or a number of places in between.

Now, Mortar Mage and Psi Wizard were rounding up and zip-tying the people who were only doing their job, if it was on the wrong side of the law. Adamast Cross was one of the many people who spent years saying something needed to change. As far as she was concerned, there was no time like the present to make changes.

Her train of thought changed course that moment as well when she noticed Ohm Wire hugging her. Ohm Wire reached over and pulled Saelum Blaster into the hug.

“I’m going to go help them now,” Ohm Wire whispered. “The two of you can take the night off if you want to. And Mary? We’ll talk tomorrow, OK?”

“Thank you, Kyra.” Adamast kissed her, and turned to the stairs. Saelum Blaster followed.

“You’re really lucky to have someone like her,” Saelum said.

“You don’t know the half of it. I’m sorry your investigation didn’t turn out as expected.”

“No, this was a good surprise, I think. Now what? Would you like to come over to my place and maybe watch a movie?”

“That sounds like a date. Let me pick up something from the pharmacy on the way, as well as a change of clothes, and I’m all yours.”

Mary entered his house, Quentin’s house, now that he held the door open for her. She had clenched her sides as though she were bracing for the cold or some alien environment. Neither was true, but the latter was still a hard feeling to shake.

She had never gone inside another man’s house—save for the mansion that the League used as a base of operations—since becoming a woman. In fact, she had a hard time remembering the rare occasions as a man where she entered a girlfriend’s home. Suddenly, there were questions about what to do in this situation.

Where in the house could she go? Was what she was wearing a proper attire? What was the right etiquette? What would she do if tiny, rabid hyenas came crawling out of the different hiding places? Damn it, she needed answers.

“Make yourself at home,” Quentin said as he entered another room.

No, man, do you have any idea what you’ve just said to a woman who’d never been here before?

A message machine beeped, catching her attention. Who still had those in this day and age? There was a woman’s voice that came with the one and only message:

“Quentin? Hi, it’s me, Kathy. I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a drink or a bite to eat before Tuesday. Call me. In case you forgot, my number is . . .”

“Nope,” Quentin said as the message cut off.

“Who was that?” asked Mary, drawing closer to the source of the sound, but still wary of being in an unfamiliar place. Oh, come on, Mary, you’ve been in plenty of places since becoming a superhero.

“That was a coworker of mine. She teaches English.” There was a strange shift in his tone when he said that.

“But?”

“She can’t even spell a third of the words she assigns her students. She’s nice, and usually pretty smart about things, but her own subject she teaches . . . I kinda fear for those kids. Anyways, would you like anything to drink?”

“Maybe later if you have tea.”

“Alright, well, let’s find a movie to watch.”

They decided on an animated movie Mary—David back then—had wanted to see since more than a year before becoming a hero. How it took over seven years to see it, she couldn’t guess. Nor did it matter.

Mary and Quentin laughed at parts, and she leaned in closer as the movie progressed. This felt right, being in his arms, just as being with Kyra did. Now she had two people she had no interest in losing. By all rights, it should have scared her. However, the thought calmed itself when Quentin kissed her on the forehead.

She felt his hand brush softly across the area behind her ear, and her eyes felt the need to rest before the credits could roll.

Mortar Mage ran into the secret lab. The installation of the replacement console should have been complete, and the diagnostic program should have finished. Sometimes, he had to replace wires or other components, which wasn’t easy. Sometimes, the gauge inside the system had a warning that there could be a problem if a minor issue wasn’t addressed right away.

Earlier today he took care of one such issue. He looked at the gauge, and read the information it processed during the diagnostic.

“Potential critical system failure. ETA 2 days, 13 hours, 37 minutes, 22 seconds.”

He clenched his fists. There had to be a way to fix this. Mortar looked up at Tawnya’s tube, remembering the day she found amusement at his new name for her, remembering the day he got her to try ice cream even though androids didn’t need human food.

Yes, of course there was a way. It was something he never wanted to do, but there was a way to save everyone if it meant undoing those wonderful memories.

Finally, after years of being locked away in the deepest depths of the Asylum, he was out. His cell was far behind him, demolished in fact, but now the suppressor cuffs drummed against the ground. The beat died. Perhaps it was trembling too much to keep going. It should have been. Everyone and everything needed to fear Bloodthorn’s return.

It was almost ironic that the key to his freedom was the same clipping device used to remove certain tags in clothing stores.

Thirty-eight cellmates dead, at least one survivor of the seven fled as far from Paragon as they could. No, Bloodthorn was staying here. He had business in this city. He was going to build strength, and then he was going to tear his captors into shreds.

Before that, however, there was an itch he needed to take care of. He felt something creep through his skin. He turned.

A security guard aimed a gun at him. “Freeze!”

The guard was too slow. Bloodthorn threw a bone-colored thorn, and it landed inside of the gun barrel. He still had it after so long.

He charged the guard, raising his other hand with a second thorn that he grew from his skin. Bloodthorn thrust the thorn into the man’s neck. Even in the dark of night, within this closed thrift shop, he could see enough of the guard’s face to revel in what he had done. Oh, it had been too long since he last experienced this.

The itch wasn’t over, however. He turned with a third thorn aimed at the only living company he had left.

A woman sat on top of a clothes rack. She had wings like a vulture. Bloodthorn knew that callous smirk and long hair. He knew that feminine figure of hers too, though he never got to experience any inch of it.

Their cells in the Asylum were close together. There were a handful of dangerous criminals who never escaped that place as often as everyone else seemed to, earning the Asylum a revolving door reputation. She was the only one, save for Bloodthorn himself, who came to mind. When they met, he said that he’d love to get a piece of her. This woman, Carrion, had said she would rape him right back.

Back then, she laughed when she had said that, as though she made some sort of joke. Since then, they were at odds as to how many inmates they could rule, and how, in the chance that they would escape. Here they both were, outside, without any inmates to follow them.

Carrion approached Bloodthorn, his hand and makeshift weapon of choice still extended, and she let the point press against her cheek. She took the thorn in one hand. She stroked her cheek with the thorn’s tip. Then she licked it.

“For me? Ya shouldn’t have.” Carrion took the thorn out of Bloodthorn’s hand. He was too irritated with her to even bother arguing. “It’s not like I didn’t already trust ya. Oh wait, I don’t.” She chuckled.

“What do you want?” Bloodthorn asked.

“I want what everyone wants, including you. I want to stay out of that forsaken Asylum. I want to be free to wreak havoc. Doing so alone means capture, or worse.”

“You’re offering a partnership?” He resisted the urge to spit at her feet. Not because it would have been cliché, but because he didn’t need his DNA leaving a trail so soon.

“No, an alliance. You, me, the other lucky jackasses. I hear there’s a new trio of villains in town. We might even be able to strike a deal with them, even if that deal is making them swear fealty to us as I pound their faces in.”

“Do what you like. I have one goal in mind.”

“And what is that? The death of everyone in the Dallevan League? The massacre of other heroes across the city? You’re not the only one with a vendetta. Ya just so happen to have one of those and a brain. So use it.”

“Do you have a place to hide away until tomorrow night?”

“I can find one,” Carrion said. “Tomorrow night, though? Why so soon?”

“It’s all I need to build up strength. If we ally ourselves with the others, then so be it, but those infernal heroes must fall.”

“Then tomorrow night, the fun begins.”