A light rain fell over the city docks, in the darkness a canyon range of shipping containers, offices, and the outlines of cranes against the lights of the city. Not much came through the main harbor since Seraph attempted to kill Pariah here with a devastating attack, and was killed in turn. Reconstruction was ongoing, heavy duty vehicles and equipment left still overnight, their work of fixing the blast zone not yet through. In the meantime, the docks further upriver saw more traffic, stimulating everything from Intershore to Oceanside. With the main port out of use, criminal elements scurried in the night like roaches. They were here, just like the Killer Crow said they would be.
A lone guard in a charcoal suit smoked a cigarette as he leaned against the railing of one of the many elevated offices of the port. What he was meant to be able to see was unclear, as he stood under the only light in the near area. He didn’t seem very concerned about doing his job. A submachine gun on a strap rested at his hip. More of his brethren in the Scarlet Brotherhood patrolled or stood sentry in the vicinity. At least, they had been. This one hadn’t noticed them disappearing quietly one at a time. At least he had the good sense to not be on his phone, unlike others.
The guard felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked over to see the bony end of a tentacle right beside his face. A cry never escaped his lips, as he had turned away from a second tentacle which looped around his throat. More snaked down out of the darkness beyond his pool of light to grab his arms, upper legs, and torso. He was hoisted onto the roof, his cigarette left abandoned on the walkway the only evidence he had ever been standing there. Once on the roof, Lauren choked him until he stopped struggling. She still felt his pulse on his neck as her tentacles receded and again formed her arm.
That day was the first time she summoned the tendrils consciously. They came to her with a thought just as her bone weapons did, which she had access to again. It took her a few hours of practice to control each of the six limbs with coordination. She found it easier if she thought of them like big fingers and also gave some of the mental load to the parasite. Last night, she had slept better, her body stiller than it had been. Lauren didn’t know why, but she had a queasy feeling something about tasting blood and Reagan’s saliva had pacified it somewhat. It wasn’t quiet in her, but it was manageable. Still, she had a feeling it was no longer going to be more asleep than awake like it was before it had repaired her heart.
Her solo practice with her tentacles had been interrupted by Hogan arriving with a team of BASTION strategists. It was the first time Lauren had a chance to meet Dodds’ replacement as BASTION liaison. Agent Holly Carmichael came specially recommended by Weiss, Hogan and Knapp had both assured Lauren in particular. They both knew her troubles in particular with Dodds, and it seemed they wanted Lauren to get along with this new replacement as the unofficial leader of Rosewell’s students.
Between Hogan and Knapp, Agent Carmichael (who insisted on being called Holly) held her hand out to Lauren and was all smiles with her greetings. Though she wore the same governmental suit as every other agent, Holly was young, pretty, and had clearly been popular her entire life. In other words, she was a Grace. Lauren didn’t particularly like Graces, and was still getting used to being friends with the one she already had. That combined with a Dodds was not making for a good start. Still, Lauren shook her offered hand for the sake of the adults around this new lady she did care for.
From there, they planned acting on Killer Crow’s intel. Holly wisely stood quiet and observed while Hogan led the planning. Only ten students were part of the mission tonight, others hanging back or going out on their own plans. The only one Lauren would be missing beside her was Thalia, but apparently she was dead set on going to some event. The rest she was glad would be staying out of it. Fights with supervillains could get dicey, and in environment like this it was best to only include those who wouldn’t need watching. Tonight, they were a lean strike force, complete with stealth variants of their usual costumes.
It almost wasn’t fair how easily her team glided through the gangsters. It was a moonless night, clouds spilling raindrops that felt small but still soaked the area. Lauren, Miss Eclipse, Marionette, and Demiguard were on duty shrinking the patrols and slowly tightening the circle around the illicit meeting going down at the center of the docks. Already, Lauren had taken out five herself. She lost count of the other girls’ tallies, but Reagan had at least three and Marionette two. Miss Eclipse was the MVP of the evening, the location being as dark as it was. She had at least double Lauren’s count. Young Gun was on overwatch somewhere, keeping an eye on things with night vision and a scoped rifle loaded with nonlethal rounds. Somewhere at the edge of the dockyards were a secondary team of students less capable of moving silently, waiting as backup, while Galaxy Girl flew above, a silent shadow against starless night.
For once, they had the drop on the New Lords. That felt good. They just had to be careful not to lose the advantage. Lauren continued leaping and slipping forward toward the center of the patrols.
. . .
Haven Slope was probably the nicest neighborhood in all of Pacific City, sitting on the southeastern edge above Thay Hill, clinging to the side of the mountain range hugging the city. Adam’s limo climbed the steep streets, and as they did so the buildings around them became nicer, and the properties surrounding them larger. The entire city and all its lights were arrayed below, from the height looking like a living game board. That was probably how the executives who could afford to live up here thought of the city.
Pity not every billionaire had the morals of his family, Adam thought.
He had no idea what he was getting himself into, and Annabelle as his date, but if Thalia was set on putting herself in danger he’d be right there beside her to help as best he could. He was still angry at her childish acting out, and not believing him about Marcus. There was only so much he could do until she hopefully calmed down and saw reason. In the meantime, might as well take the opportunity to investigate what Marcus was up to as a free man post-Cyrus. Through his social web, this private event Thalia had been invited to wasn’t hard to find. The location at least, if not the purpose. They were going in blind. The first test was getting in through the door without an invitation. He suspected that would be the easiest part of the night.
Beside him, hand laced in his was Annabelle. Again, she had done her magic with makeup and special effects to look not only normal for the evening, but absolutely stunning. She used her pliability to fill out her black dress in all the right ways, becoming irresistibly curvy in a way that drove Adam wild. He kept splitting his attention between the vista of the city and his amazing date. He himself had spent time getting a proper shave, a new haircut, and making sure his fine suit still fit. They were both dressed all-out, a radiant couple together.
Annabelle smirked as she noticed him noticing her for the dozenth time. Her lips parted, showing pearly teeth.
“You know why I’m not the least bit jealous we’re going after Thalia? Because of the way you look at me.”
Adam grinned. “I can’t help it. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. And not just when you dress up like this. And,” he said, “you’re not jealous because you’re a good person who knows Thalia is being misled, and we might be the only ones who can protect her.”
“It might be some of that,” Annabelle conceded. She shifted her weight and leaned in close to him. “I think I can keep this up for a bit longer than last time.” She traced a lacquered nail over his chest. “If you want me to. Or we could try something else.”
Adam practically shuddered with anticipation. “Yes please.”
Now that he was 100% sure of Annabelle, he had to silently thank the universe for his very own shapeshifter girlfriend.
Their limo pulled up to a palatial residence near the very top of the high district. They entered the gate of the walled property, following a line of other luxury vehicles. Even by Haven Slope standards, the place was opulent. An immaculate garden and lawn of trees, bushes, flowers and fountains surrounded a three-story home with wide windows open to grand balconies. Finely-dressed guests milled on each story with drinks, servers moving between them. The vehicles took turns in the loop in front of the house depositing their passengers, who were greeted at the door by an attendant. Security was almost invisible in the corners and nooks, a credit to their professionalism, but Adam was well-trained to spot them.
“This place is amazing,” Annabelle said.
“I wouldn’t expect a foreign prince to party at anything less,” Adam said. “I’m not sure whose place this is, but I intend to find out. Keep your wits about you. Listen for gossip, don’t reveal too much about yourself. We’re here for reconnaissance and to keep our friend safe. Remember, things have changed in the city. This place could be crawling with New Lords, or worse.”
Annabelle nodded seriously. Adam booped her cute nose. “But don’t be afraid to have a bit of fun. We should act friendly.”
She smiled.
Their turn came to step out of the limo, Adam giving his date a hand. They came up the grand, carpeted steps.
“Name?” the attendant asked.
He probably knew full well who Adam was, but it was on him to act gracious anyway. This wasn’t going to be like Cyrus Null’s trap. No, Adam wouldn’t be caught starry-eyed here. He’d use all of his social skills and leverage at his disposal, and be the perfect guest until his mystery hosts gave him reason otherwise. Adam could play society, and now that he was the only Atlas on Earth, he was the most important. He couldn’t be ignored at a place like this. So let’s see who wanted to play.
“Adam Atlas, and my date.”
The attendant scrolled the tablet in front of him.
“Did you receive invitation, Mr. Atlas?”
“I surely did!” Adam said jovially. “Could you imagine that, an event like this without an Atlas at it? That would be…”
“Sad,” Annabelle finished for him.
“Truly.”
“One moment,” the attendant said. He turned and spoke into an earpiece, and it only took a short moment for them to be cleared. The attendant swept his hand out. “Welcome, both of you.”
Adam glanced upwards, wondering where the cameras were.
The interior was as grand as the out, with a great sparkling chandelier over marble floors. Harpists played softly, music mixing with the mutterings of the well-to-do in their own social tribes across the floor. Annabelle and Adam were offered flutes of drinks as soon as they stepped in. Adam gently declined for the both of them. He had learned his lesson well enough on that. Annabelle accepted something spread on a cracker, which seemed harmless enough.
Eyes went to them as they entered, and as they did, Adam scanned subtly for the important people in the crowd. There always were, in an event like this. The ones who considered themselves above the ones above everyone else. The keepers of the social menagerie. They tended to like to brood from a vantage where they could survey the less important guests and be seen by everyone else, typically surrounded by their private coterie of followers. He also kept an eye out for Thalia. He wanted to find her as soon as possible, and keep an eye on her. He noticed there were at least a handful of other teens in attendance. With Marcus being here, that likely meant some were New Lords. They were going to have to learn that status and public goodwill came with certain expectations, like not embarrassing themselves in front of these people.
He spotted someone who stood out from the crowd before finding Thalia. In the score of mainly fair-skinned, soft-bodied people, a woman on the second floor overlooking the main hall commanded attention. She was tall, in a backless dress covering her bosoms and plunging to her stomach. Muscle rippled under the surface of her deep brown skin. Not bulky, but limber like a big cat. Adam could see scars on her bare shoulders, biceps, and neck from fifty feet away. The braids of her hair were kept back away from her haughty, proud, and ruggedly captivating face. She stood with her back arced forward, vividly amber eyes sweeping as her face showed clear disinterest with the display of Pacific City’s elite. Whoever she was, she did not look like she wasted much time in a boardroom. Adam wondered if she was their host for the evening. He had a tingle of intuition that she was an outsider to this place.
In another moment he and Annabelle had walked through the interior and were outside again, at the back of the property on a richly-draped balcony that led down into more impressively sculpted garden. Something in the air seemed to advance the season forward to spring. Adam noticed the chill that he should be feeling was lessened, and the plants on display thrived despite the season. The night’s rain seemed to evaporate before it touched anyone’s heads. An impressive and low-key show of wealth, whatever the source was.
They stepped down from the balcony, and the thin crowd shifted. Adam spotted Thalia facing away from them.
The green dress did look amazing on her, just shimmery enough without being gauche. It hugged her athletic form and left a strip of skin around her spine exposed. He could see her thick hair had been done up elaborately in a way that must have taken hours. And… damnit, her butt did look amazing. Adam kept his focus off it.
Annabelle slipped her arm out of his and let him approach alone, something he was grateful for. Thalia sensed his approach, half turning then completing the motion as he came up to her.
Adam’s heart thumped in surprise as he saw her. Light but impactful makeup had been applied to her face, making her eyes darker, cheeks smoother, and lips more noticeable. He had never seen Thalia in such a way before. Adam had expected to find her in a state of clear discomfort, picking at her dress and trying to adjust her heels and generally looking like she’d rather have stayed at Rosewell. It seemed he had been entirely mistaken. She was graceful, ethereal, looking at home amongst the flowers and bushes. It was the first time Adam was seeing her as a lady. It gave him a weird ache in his chest. He had no right to feel jealous, but he didn’t think it was that exactly, at least not in a romantic sense. Maybe more like estrangement. The Thalia he knew didn’t want this, which might’ve meant he didn’t know Thalia so well anymore.
Thalia didn’t frown seeing Adam, but she didn’t smile either. She looked him up and down as she changed her grip on her clutch.
“What are you doing here?” She looked past Adam’s shoulder and presumably saw his date. Her face tightened slightly. “You two can’t give me a night alone to do something myself? Were you even invited to this?”
Adam laughed, taking her words as a joke between friends for the benefit of anyone overhearing. “Have we met? I’m Adam Atlas. Invitations to these things are my junk mail.”
“Funny,” Thalia said, deadpan.
Adam stepped into personal conversation distance. “You know my concerns,” he said. “You don’t have to talk to me tonight. We’ll just be around if you need us. I wanted to make sure you to get home safe. Ride home with us when you’re ready.”
“I have a date for that,” Thalia said. “But thanks. You’re such a good brother to me. That’s really what I need.”
Adam came closer, smiling as he spoke through his teeth. “Can you have a tantrum anywhere else except this nest of snakes? I’ve already clocked some interesting people here, and you have too if you aren’t being willfully blind. The sooner we leave, the better. So get this out of your system.”
Thalia opened her mouth to retort, but someone beat her to the punch.
“Adam! What a surprise!”
He braced himself to face Thalia’s “date.”
Marcus Dragovel swaggered up to them from further in the garden. Adam internally retched seeing him. The young prince again radiated cocky superiority. His suit was militaristic in style, with understated shoulder pauldrons built into the fabric and subtle gold trim. He wasn’t trying to blend with the crowd, that was for sure. His dark hair was slick with product, and his cruel eyes flared seeing Adam and Thalia so close together.
Adam stepped away from Thalia and came to grip the forearm of Marcus, perfectly faking a surprised and delighted expression.
“Marcus, you rogue! I heard you were entertaining Thalia for the evening. I had to come see what all the fuss was about.”
Marcus chuckled hollowly, maybe a bit off balance that Adam didn’t start throwing accusations at his face. He must’ve thought Adam was stupid if he was expecting that. Both boys had been raised in political spheres, just different varieties. Let the other students throw punches. This was Adam’s arena.
Marcus came around him, putting an arm around Thalia. She tried to look like she wasn’t disliking the quick familiarity. Marcus didn’t notice.
“It’s good to see you. I was hoping after our last meeting, we could come face to face again soon.”
I bet, after Abigail blew up your suit.
“Absolutely,” Adam agreed. “I’ve been away in a nature retreat, learning things besides spreadsheets and management. Important things that really make a man, you know?”
“Of course,” Marcus said. He drew his hand up to Thalia’s shoulder. “I see you’ve found my date well enough, but where’s yours?”
Annabelle appeared at Adam’s side at the perfect moment. She gave her hand to Marcus.
“We haven’t met. I’m Annabelle, Adam’s girlfriend.”
Marcus put his lips to Annabelle’s hand and tilted his head appreciatively to Adam.
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“What a girl!” Marcus purred to Adam, as if Annabelle was just some object he had brought along. His own date was forgotten for a moment. “Surrounded by so many blossoming flowers. How do you do it, Atlas?”
“Oh, men like us trip over them, we just have to find the right one for the evening, don’t we?”
Marcus chortled, genuinely tickled by Adam’s remark. Thalia glowered at him from Marcus’ side. She knew Adam wasn’t like this, but he could act like it to show her what Marcus was really like.
“What fine company you make,” Marcus said. He sobered slightly. “But really, what are you doing here?”
“What indeed?”
Their four heads turned. Lilith was now standing at the side of the two couples, looking between them with a smile on her dark lips. She wore her private school uniform. Her eyes were clear, irises acid green. Her black hair was immaculately straight, not a strand out of place.
Adam was thrown seeing her here, but she was the public face of the New Lord’s Academy for troubled super-youth turning their lives around. According to media, anyways. The three Rosewell students knew what she was really like. At least Thalia could see her here, in the company of Marcus. Maybe they wouldn’t have to be staying long.
“Lilith, how are you?”
Adam didn’t break. In a smooth motion, he stepped forward to greet Lilith, holding her slender shoulders and kissing her on each cheek. Her skin was disconcertingly cold. She twitched slightly from the contact as Adam stepped away. She probably wanted to stab him for that, but that wouldn’t look very good. Welcome to the cuffs of public image.
“Why am I here? I’m going to be honest, I don’t even know where here is or who’s hosting,” Adam said lightly. “But why not find out! I’m feeling young and carefree tonight.”
“That’s good for you,” Lilith said with only a hint of malice. “But one might think the only heir to the Atlas empire might take a bit more care of where he shows up unannounced.”
“Why?” Adam asked, spreading his arms. “We’re all friends here, aren’t we? The next generation of heroes! The protectors and innovative minds!”
That got heads to turn to them, reminding Lilith they weren’t alone.
Adam continued. “You know, your cousin is my roommate at school. He said you two spent the holidays together. I think that’s very sweet. He said you seemed more like yourself at home. Like he remembered you as a kid. Maybe the city air just doesn’t agree with you, hm?”
That got to her, Adam could see it in her eyes. Lilith searched for a retort. People kept passing by their innocuous conversation. Marcus was no help, shifting on his feet beside his date.
Adam almost laughed at her inability to reply. Maybe they should have stayed down in the sewers. Adam was born on this level.
“Well, we won’t keep you all,” Adam dismissed. “Unfortunately, life is business, and being an Atlas means I have to go shmooze with the other empire builders.” He looked around. “Enjoy your… garden.”
He turned on his heel and led Annabelle away.
“You being a rich bastard is so fucking hot,” Annabelle breathed into his ear.
Adam tried to smile. It was fun to verbally disarm his enemies, but he was all too aware they were outnumbered here. Not to mention their friends on the other side of the city.
. . .
Lauren, Miss Eclipse, Demiguard, and Marionette all perched on stacks of cargo containers or rooftops in each of the directions surrounding a central throughway near the blast zone. The air here was acrid as oil and chemicals released from the parched pavement. The rainfall had increased, heavy droplets sliding off the slick sealskin-like metamaterial of Lauren’s stealth suit.
All the surrounding guards had been dealt with silently. All that remained was the core group of gangsters waiting down below, and the ones they were meeting with who hadn’t shown yet. By their body language, the Scarlet Brethren waiting under their umbrellas were growing impatient. A hunched older man in a heavy coat paced, growing agitated.
“Where the fuck are these kids?” His raspy, heavily-accented voice bounced off the metal walls around him. “And what the fuck is this weather? Since when was it raining tonight? Why is no one calling in?”
A younger, thicker man spoke to him, also with an accent. “The men have likely found shelter, sir. The thick walls and weather may be hampering signal.”
“Bah!” The older man grumbled and paced.
“Approaching from the east, small group. Looks like our other targets.”
Young Gun was in their ear, keeping an above view from the platform of the nearest crane. Some New Lords were acting as gatekeepers of the city, it seemed. These gangsters were here to pay tithe to enter. Hogan and the other architects of the plan had warned warm human flesh might be part of the trade. If fucking with the New Lords wasn’t enough to get Lauren to give this mission her full attention, the idea of helping trafficking victims certainly was. Rescue was the highest priority, above even apprehending. Lauren fully intended to do both. She watched like a perched bird of prey for the scene to fill before the ambush could commence.
They came walking into the floodlight-lit scene, five figures of teenage size and costumed to be New Lords, even if Lauren didn’t know all of them. Trophy Hunter led the troupe. He was quickly becoming Lauren’s least favorite lieutenant of Lilith’s army. His hair clung to his bare shoulders and back under his animal skull mask he wore in the pouring rain. He was armed with his bow and quiver at the very least.
Lauren frowned as she recognized the tall, spindly figure of Mack, aka Brain Drain, the New Lord who had thought it a good idea to go through her head and nearly kill her. So, he had survived Lauren choking him. Bloodtide was another Lauren recognized, the sickly-looking Atlantean girl with a wicked trident. The other two were what looked like a boy wearing a hoodie with antlers branching from his head, and a girl in a black coat with short hair and no visible powers.
“They’re all here. Let’s take them.”
Demiguard was impatient. Lauren hadn’t properly talked to her since their kissing session. She was shifty and anxious across the planning table from Lauren, going between trying to get Lauren’s attention and purposefully looking away. Lauren didn’t know what to say. She figured it would come after the mission.
“Stay still,” Lauren ordered. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
The older man and his younger bodyguard or assistant carrying an umbrella came forward to speak to Trophy Hunter.
“You are late,” the leader of the gangsters complained. “You are impetuous, boy. Do not think I cannot go over your head to your masters. And what are you doing with my men? They have gone quiet.”
“I haven’t done anything except show up,” Trophy Hunter said. His head turned upwards and around. Lauren hunched lower on her roof. Rain pounded hard, making it hard to hear their conversation even with her enhanced senses.
“I don’t like being out here any more than you do. Show us what you brought.”
The man waved some of his men forward. They hefted lockboxes between them. One entered a combination and lifted the lid.
Lauren could see sparkling contents inside the box even at a distance. Trophy Hunter inspected the treasure. He took out what looked like a short sword and unsheathed it.
“Much good loot for your queen,” the man said proudly. Then he said something in another language to his men. A few chuckled. “Even Atlantean, some of it,” he added.
“What right do you have for Atlantean treasure?” Bloodtide snarled, coming beside Trophy Hunter. He held her back.
“And your cargo?”
A squeal of metal sounded from down one of the dark corridors. Two men hauled a limp, stumbling young woman between them. They brought her to the older man, who held up her face to show Hunter.
“Forty girls, very good stock. Compliant. We ship them in no issue. We give them new names to entertain our clients.”
Lauren’s jaw set seeing the trafficked woman.
“Eclipse, go down there and take out everyone around the shipment of girls. Find them and keep them safe.”
“And us?” Demiguard asked.
“You still there, Young Gun?”
“Affirmative. Scope on the scene. Give me a target to take out.”
Lauren considered the five New Lords. Hunter was strong and dangerous, likely even more so in close quarters. Bloodtide wasn’t too bad, but they had beaten her before. Brain Drain wouldn’t have great pickings between a robot and a powerless girl, and if he wanted to try Lauren’s mind again best of luck to him. She didn’t know antlers boy or the girl. They could be the most dangerous.
There were also the gangsters to consider, eight of them with guns.
“Marionette, land in the gangsters and take them out. Don’t get shot. Demi, converge with me on the Lords. Focus on the girl and boy in the back. I don’t know them. Young Gun, take out Trophy Hunter when you see us move, then take shots you have. Everyone understand?”
“Confirm.”
“Confirm.”
“Confirm.”
“On three.”
Lauren gave a countdown, then leapt from the roof.
She landed perfectly in between Brain Drain and Bloodtide just as lightning flashed. Both of them seemed to sense something was off, but neither looked at Lauren for some reason. She wasted no time.
A punch to the jaw brought Brain Drain down immediately. Trophy Hunter was quick to turn, just to receive a concussive round from Young Gun’s rifle in his chest. He went down with a cry.
Marionette had landed in the midst of the gangsters to much chaos. They tried to pull their guns and shoot, but Mary weaved between them, bending at odd angles like an impossibly graceful acrobat. Her corded whips lashed out and brought men off their feet. Guns were snapped from their owner’s hands.
Behind Lauren, she heard the sounds of Demiguard landing and battering the two unknowns. She’d turn around to help in a second. First, she had to deal with Bloodtide.
The fish-girl had a terrible grimace on her wide face. She struck out with her trident. It was a sloppy motion. Almost like she didn’t know exactly where Lauren was.
Lauren pivoted and grabbed the trident under its head. She was momentarily distracted by the realization she couldn’t see her own arm.
No, she could, she realized. It was blurry. Translucent. But she could still make out the shape of it attached to the weapon. She looked at her other hand and realized she had gone partially invisible.
Bloodtide’s fist found Lauren’s face regardless. The hit was strong and caught her off guard, as distracted as Lauren was. She went down, cursing.
Bloodtide loomed above, her trident ready to spear Lauren through the chest. Lauren’s body had become entirely visible again. She didn’t have time to think about that or anything else. She raised her right arm and let it explode into a nest of thrashing tentacles. The pointed ends dug into Bloodtide’s armor and pushed her back.
Trophy Hunter was recovering from being shot in the chest. Groaning, he got to his knees, then feet. He took a knife from his waist and made it clear he was readying to stab Lauren, still in a sitting position. His knife raised, the blade gleaming.
A metal whip wrapped around his wrist and held him back. Marionette was behind him, having mostly finished off the gangsters. He tugged, but she held him back from striking long enough.
Lauren sprung upwards. She reeled in her tentacles slightly from their clash with Bloodtide. A bone spike grew from her other wrist, longer than she had ever formed before and serrated. Hunter turned his grip and wrested himself free of the cord. Before he could turn on Lauren, she stepped forward and thrust the spike through his thigh.
Trophy Hunter howled in pain and anger as the spike sawed into his flesh and came back out with a gout of blood. He took a knee. Marionette wrapped two strings against his straining neck.
Lauren focused fully back on the fight. Bloodtide had pinned one of her tentacles to the ground with her sharp weapon. She stepped on another, but the rest lashed at her. Beyond them, Lauren could see Demigaurd’s ambush had failed to take out either of her targets. The girl had covered herself with chunky armor apparently formed from the pavement around her. The boy with antlers moved his arms in broad gestures, each time throwing off Reagan’s weapon swings.
“Lauren? I’m still here.” It was Vivian in Lauren’s ear. She had nearly forgotten she was up there somewhere. “How can I help?”
She really wished Vivian could come down and punch these guys, but that still wasn’t an option unfortunately.
“Help Miss Eclipse evacuate!”
Bloodtide took a long knife from her waist, hacking at the tentacles. Lauren kept them up as a distraction, then rushed between them. She grabbed Bloodtide around the neck with her free hand, then kneed her in the stomach. The Atlantean was stronger than most humans. She stabbed Lauren in the shoulder. It hurt, but the tip bent against the bone under her skin. Lauren recalled her tentacles, a few of them having to rip out from under the trident, then quickly formed them back into an arm. She punched Bloodtide once, then twice with spiked knuckles. The Atlantean finally sagged. Lauren kicked her down.
Young Gun had come down from his vantage to help Reagan. The girl in gravel armor turned to him just in time to receive a revolver round point-blank to her face. Half of her improvised helmet blew off in scattered pieces. The force knocked her down, and Ike kicked her face before she could regain her bearings.
The boy with antlers was left cornered. The details of his face were lost in his oversized hoodie.
“I can’t hit him!” Demiguard complained. “He’s making me so dizzy…”
Nonlethal rounds still loaded, Young Gun aimed center chest at tried to shoot him. His aim was off, the round hitting the container behind the boy. Lauren saw the issue. The boy was warping space around him, or maybe everyone’s perception of space. The rain-filled air around him flexed and bent in strange ways.
“Dude, just give up!” Lauren said.
“BIOMASS!”
Vivian sounded panicked in Lauren’s ear. Lauren winced.
“What?”
A rushing sound was approaching, now that she noticed it. It sounded like the ocean was close. Closer than it should be. Everything was hard to see beyond the immediate vicinity.
“There’s a wave coming in!”
Lauren looked down. Foam-filled water was around her ankles.
Looking up again, she saw in the darkness a massive surge of water crashing its way towards them between containers.
And watching from a safe height were a score of figures Lauren had failed to notice.
. . .
Adam left Annabelle in the garden, leaving her to guard Thalia at a distance while he snooped further inside. While Thalia stewed in what Adam had presented, it would be good to collect any additional information that there was to glean. The New Lords were integrating into high society, that much was clear. Surely Cyrus’ other daughter was behind that particular thrust. Adam would bet Cynthia Null was somewhere in this, maybe even being the owner of the place.
He found himself glancing up again at the proud, scarred woman on the upper balcony. She was watching him. Her eyes open slightly from their languid resting state when the two made eye contact. He offered a smile. Her knowing who he was wasn’t surprising. Still, it might behoove him to learn her name.
Adam gave polite greetings to those he passed who recognized him, even if he didn’t them. Two teenage girls sitting together watched him pass. He gave them a wink. Their faces remained neutral.
He found himself wandering up to the second floor, opposite on the horseshoe balcony to the woman of interest. In the corner of his vision, he saw a smartly-dressed man take her side and engage her in conversation. An Englishman, if Adam had to guess by the cut of his suit and hair, he had the gravitas of someone else too good to mingle with the common rich. Their easy body language as the two spoke suggested they had plenty in common and something to privately lord over the rest. Adam wondered what that was.
He ended up so focused on the pair across the way he nearly tripped over the legs of someone sitting on a bench against the wall. Adam stumbled and managed to catch himself.
“I’m so sorry,” he said to the man whose legs he had tangled his own in. The first thing he noticed was that the man’s legs were bare below the knees, both tan and hairy. His feet were bare too except for a pair of sandals. That was unusual for an event like this. He looked up at the rest of the man.
Whoever he was, he wasn’t upset at all Adam had tripped over him. He was in his late fifties or early sixties, with locks of salt and pepper hair around his handsome, sundried face. The man’s jaw was defined and covered with a heavy stubble. The creases around his mouth and eyes suggested he was in a good mood more often than not, and his sea green eyes were merry. To go with his shorts and sandals, his shirt was a simple tropical button-up frayed at the sleeves and around the pockets from heavy use. Pretty unusual apparel for a thing like this, but the man didn’t seem to feel he was out of place at all.
“It’s no worries at all, I’m sitting here like a lump on a log when I should be walking around like everyone else,” the man said. His voice was smooth, fit for introducing classic hits on the radio. He held out his hand, Adam shaking it. His hand was strong, calloused. “Henry LeGuerre.”
“Adam Atlas.”
“You certainly are.”
Adam lingered around the man, sensing he was open to talking further. He was wary, to be sure, the last time he had met an friendly-seeming older man at a gala not having gone so well. Still, information was information, and Adam didn’t have to make any promises. A conversation could be just that.
Henry nodded over the railing, picking up the slack. “Those two preening over there sure are something, aren’t they? Want to be looked at without looking like it. All this high society pageantry gives me heartburn.”
“You know them?”
Henry looked up at Adam, weighing something behind his eyes with a faint smile. “Yeah, I know them.”
He patted the spot beside him.
Adam took a seat next to Henry on the wide bench. He wondered how such a seemingly-casual man had gotten entrance to this place. Looks could be deceiving, he supposed.
Henry nodded to the scarred, muscular woman. “That’s Tori Odrono. She doesn’t like me very much. The man beside her is David Raithe.”
Both names gave Adam pause, for different reasons. David Raithe was easy enough to place. He looked at the man with fresh eyes. Raithe was known across the pond to be a star executive known for ruthless efficiency and shaking up every industry he got his hands on. Sort of a Cyrus Null of the UK. The name Odrono gave Adam greater pause. The only Odrono he knew was the supervillain Deathmasque, whose obsidian mask remained one of the family trophies taken from Adam’s great-grandfather’s time. He wished he remembered the stories better. Deathmasque was from Zutuana, the same country that Thalia’s ancestor had pulled the Wildstone from. The deposed king of the nation, in fact. That had been the work of the Wilds and Atlases of the time.
Adam swallowed, suddenly keenly feeling in danger.
“Why doesn’t Tori like you?” he asked.
“Oh, her and David are in this silly club together. I was considered for membership, but I know Tori’s the one who vetoed it. She’s still sore about what happened off the coast of Zanzibar. You can’t steal from a thief, I say.”
Henry raised his hand and waved to Tori. She narrowed her eyes at him. Adam didn’t like being under her scrutiny by association.
“Her family thinks they own all of Africa, the greedy bastards. Tori inherited her father’s company. Onyx Mercenary and Archaeological Ventures. Isn’t that a name? I think my business sounds a lot better. I took it more honestly, too. My old boss Captain Leviathan, he was murdered by members of his own crew. I wouldn’t join them, so they marooned me. Can you believe anyone would still do that these days? You have to respect a pirate’s flair for drama, though. Joke was on them, in the end. I put every single one of them to the sword that betrayed our captain. I never wanted to be in charge, you understand, but sometimes a man just needs to set his hand on the wheel and right the course.”
Adam followed what he was being told as best he could.
“So you’re…”
Henry’s face split into a grin. He reintroduced himself. “Nautilus, captain of Typhoon Acquisitions, pirate extraordinaire.”
Ah. Adam had sat down next to the most infamous sea-based villain in all the world, then. A self-styled pirate king that no global power had yet managed to catch. That was good to know.
“And all this is…?”
“A meeting of the dark masters, so to speak,” Henry said, still remaining jovial. “Not that I’d know their business, given I was passed over and all. I’m just here to annoy Tori.”
“By sitting here?” Adam asked.
“That’s a small part of it,” Henry said. He leaned in closer. “What Tori doesn’t know is I’m robbing her again tonight.” He snickered like a mischievous kid. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”
. . .
“BRACE!”
The water was on them in an instant. Lauren was lifted off her feet and at the same time slammed downwards. Her strength couldn’t help her. She lost sight of her team. Water filled her nose. She struggled to move. For a terrifying moment, there was no up. Her limbs flailed as she was made weightless, a toy of primal forces of nature.
Then she hit ground again.
The water receded enough for her to be set down. She vomited liquid. She was blind, her hair clinging to her face. Thunder crashed above. She felt the ground underneath her and pushed against it. Water had filled the area a foot high. It was all she could do for a moment to stumble to her feet and wipe everything out of her eyes.
She saw the shapes of her team flailing their way out of the tide. Unconscious bodies floated. She had to hope they were all enemies and not friends. Lauren saw Demiguard and Ike, then Marionette beyond them.
“Eclipse and Galaxy, keep… evacuating,” Lauren sputtered. She couldn’t even tell if her earpiece was still in place. “Call in B Team.”
Her legs fought against the surge to turn and see what they were facing. Three figures came wading towards them. They each handled themselves much better than Lauren’s waterlogged team. One was a woman in a transparent raincoat, her hair in long blue braids. Another was a man wearing only breeches, his hair shaggy, runic tattoos across his torso and arms. The last was massive, at least eight feet tall. Her shape was generally humanoid, but she had the skin and head of a shark. A thick tail swished in the water behind her. She bulged with muscle under her gray skin, her clothing being slick material over her upper legs and waist and around her chest. Her head turned to the side, a black bead of an eye watching Lauren.
The woman in the raincoat spoke to them.
“This area and all treasures within are being claimed by Typhoon Acquisitions. I’m Jellyfish, and these are my associates Stormshaper and Redmaw. Leave without a fight, and your lives are yours. You’d do well to walk away if you’re still standing.”
Lauren had never heard of these people, but they were clearly dangerous. At this point, she couldn’t care less about the shiny treasures being washed out with the tide. Her care was the imprisoned women getting evacuated.
“GG, can you hear me?” Lauren asked.
“I’m here.”
“How’s the evacuation?”
“We’re working on it. I’m fast, but I’m trying to be thorough. The storm is making it harder to see people. I can only carry so many at a time. I need a few more minutes.”
The new villains were waiting for their reply.
“We’ll leave,” Lauren said. She wouldn’t risk more lives over nothing. “But we need to finish getting people out of here.”
“Nar,” Jellyfish said. “Anything a part of the transaction here is our claim. You’ll leave the bodies, and we’ll sort through ‘em.”
Lauren’s arms hummed with activity as her flesh blackened and split apart, forming half-tentacles with sharp tips kept together at her elbows. Her vision sharpened. She called on her strength.
Above, other figures still lined the rows of containers. They looked like mercenaries, with light aquatic armor and guns. Another landed among them. She was a teenage girl with dirty blonde hair. Her arms were large, feathered wings. The blue-haired woman Jellyfish glanced up at her.
“Alright then.”
The massive shark woman came charging in.

