Bones of the Past (Villains' Code Book 2)

by Drew Hayes

  “I suppose that might also happen, in theory.” Ivan reached into the back of his car and scooped up a large duffel bag, presumably containing his own outfit. “Though, to my knowledge, we’ve mostly used them for their intended purpose. We got an official exception since my current home is too small to host in and this is work with a charitable organization… with perhaps a dash of help from the top.”

  Tori snickered as she reached for the handle, but Ivan laid a hand on her shoulder. “Listen: before we go in, I want to make sure we’re on the same page. While the kids will be kids, you’ll also be working with another adult. Be aware of what you say. This isn’t a busy office, and Helen is no distracted coworker.”

  “She someone I should watch out for?”

  Something odd appeared on Ivan’s face, an emotion somewhere between amusement and consternation that ultimately faded as he released a slow, controlled breath. “Whatever conclusions you draw about her should be your own. I will only say that she is not a woman I would advise you underestimate.”

  After watching an entire team of capes accidentally out themselves over the weekend, Tori was in no mood to take anyone lightly. One slip-up, one spilled tray of meat—that was the difference between a secret identity and her name on the Hephaestus rap sheet. Since she had to be here regardless, Tori was treating this as supplemental self-control training. If she could hold her heat and hide her power around a room of preteens, there wouldn’t be much that could rattle her.

  Together, she and Ivan made their way up the front drive, arriving to find the front door already peeking open. Pushing through, they could hear humming come from within. Tori noticed that silver and turquoise streamers were already running along the ceiling, hanging over a large dining room table that had been enthusiastically cluttered by craft supplies. Movement drew her attention; she focused on a doorway to the kitchen as a form stepped into view.

  The woman was still humming, earphones poking out from underneath her mane of chestnut hair. She was younger than expected, mid- to late-twenties at most, only a few years older than Tori herself. And that was assuming the glasses didn’t make her seem older than she really was. As this stranger, presumably the mysterious Helen, turned around, she caught sight of Ivan. Instantly, her face lit up and she set down the armful of glue in her grasp.

  “Perfect timing. I’ve got the decorations working and our fun-time table mostly ready. You need to get moving on grub. Given the age of our group, if there aren’t adequate snacks, they might chew through all this lovely rental furniture before the night is through.” Helen looked away from Ivan for the first time, treating Tori to a full-force blast of smiling, cheerful energy. “Hello there! You must be Ivan’s niece. Thank you so much for agreeing to come help us out. I look forward to getting to know you over the coming weeks, Tori.”

  Tori went for a handshake, which Helen somehow managed to turn into a hug, seemingly without effort. If not for Ivan’s warning, it would be easy to mark Helen as a happy, simple helper, the kind one might let their guard down around. No wonder Ivan had cautioned her about underestimation. Helen was the type of person Tori would instantly dismiss, and he knew it.

  “My pleasure,” Tori said once the hug finally ended. “But you’ve got me at a disadvantage. You’re aware I’m Ivan’s niece. How do you and my uncle know each other?”

  Part of her had expected some big reaction. Instead, Helen calmly tapped a finger to her chin. “Oh goodness, it seems so long ago—you know how the years get jumbled. We’ve run in similar social circles for ages, and eventually, we met. He’s a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, but a dependable fellow most of the time. Helping out here was the least I owed him after Ivan pitched in with the local kids’ theater play last year. My daughter was a sugar-plum fairy. I think I can find pictures, if you’re interested.”

  Right, the kids. Tori forgot that people with children were forced into social situations, whether they liked it or not. Even for someone like Ivan, the act of showing up and being a dad meant he’d deal with other parents. Evidently, he didn’t hate all of them. Tori could see the logic; Helen had the sort of infectious, positive energy that could be hard to resist.

  “Perhaps we should head down that road after the meeting. There’s only a few hours, and I’ve seen you go into a picture-showing session.” Ivan set down his duffel and headed for the kitchen, only to have his arm hooked by Helen as he passed.

  “Aren’t you going to put the uniform on?” Helen gestured to her own body, which was clad in the tan, short-sleeve button-down and matching capris, topped off by a turquoise ascot. The summer Starscout uniform, to be changed out with something warmer when Autumn arrived. “That goes for you, too, Tori. Meeting regulations.”

  For a moment, Tori felt the ground vanish. She was a child again, standing in her room as her mother explained that, yes, they had to go to the meeting; yes, she had to visit with other kids; yes, she had to wear the uniform. It was a memory tinged with childish anger and frustration, but Tori held onto it for as long she could. There were only so many memories left where she could still recall her parents’ voices.

  When she blinked herself back to reality, Tori noticed Helen watching her. “You okay? Seemed to space out there for a moment.”

  “Sorry, I’m fine. First day back at work, just a little tired. I’ll be good to go by the time the kids show up.”

  “Why don’t you go ahead and change? I’ll put Ivan on task in the kitchen, then you can help me with decorations,” Helen suggested. She led Tori down the hall to a large, stylish bathroom that was much too big for the intended purpose.

  Once Tori was tucked away, Helen returned to the living room, where Ivan was pulling his own uniform out.

  With one hand, Helen took Ivan’s forearm, silently leading him to the kitchen, where she proceeded to yank out pots and pans. “Little cover noise, just in case. While she’s changing, is there anything you need to bring me up to speed on? Major changes or revelations we should knock out before the kids arrive?”

  “To my own surprise, I’ve got nothing to report. No sudden threats or dire stakes sprang up, no foreboding signs that one of our charges is secretly a doomsday weapon—nothing. Seems to be a class of mostly mundane kids. Beth is the only catalogued meta in the bunch,” Ivan said.

  “Fingers crossed that turns out to be true.” Helen paused, laying a giant sheet pan carefully down atop the stove. “These kids deserve normalcy, no matter who their instructors are. But, if anything does go wrong, I’ll handle it.”

  Ivan looked up from the kitchen counter, where he’d been eyeing ingredients. “I’m not sure that’s—”

  “Ivan, this is Beth’s cluster.” Sometimes, it was strange to hear that level of authority come from Helen rather than Lodestar—until one realized how many of the differences between them were merely cosmetic. “I know you’d expose your secret to protect her. You’d do it without a second thought or an instant of hesitation, which is why I’m telling you now, up front, that I’m in charge of dealing with problems. My secret has protection. Yours doesn’t. Your daughter is going to be here, watching. Worry about her; I’ve got everything else.”

  There was no value to arguing. Besides the fact that Helen made excellent points, ultimately, it was the one she hadn’t said out loud that Ivan found most compelling. If a situation arose demanding one of them to get serious, then it would have to be a reasonably dangerous one. In that scenario, with trouble at the door and children to protect, Helen should be the one fighting. She was stronger than Fornax in his prime, and now, the divide between them was even greater.

  “Over the years, if there is one lesson I have taken to heart, it is that you’re going to do what you say, no matter what,” Ivan conceded. “Just try not to jump the gun. Let’s see if we can resolve things without leaning on our full power.”

  “Hey, I still got my moves.” Helen bobbed and weaved, mostly as a joke, yet it was impossible for Ivan to miss the practiced steps in even her playful
offense. The vast majority of the world thought Lodestar won by sheer power alone, and while that was certainly true much of the time, the public wasn’t privy to her past. They didn’t know she’d logged her years as a low-level street cape, learning to fight through constant practice.

  It was an educational tactic Ivan knew all too well from his own childhood, if one could call his raising by such a term. In another life, he might have liked to spar Helen cordially, with no powers involved. Sadly, such was a mere fantasy, and this was not the time for indulgences. Ivan turned his attention to the real task at hand: whipping up some hot snacks.

  After all, if a group of kids on the cusp of teendom showed up to find no food, the cluster leaders might need Lodestar’s protection after all.

  Nexus strolled down the boulevard, passing a designer pet boutique and a veggie wrap stand that shared the same building. Ridge City was nothing if not experienced with recovery. When the Garbublux broke through Professor Quantum’s containment zone and went on a rampage, it had taken years to get fully back up and running, even with the League of Metas pitching in to help. Jump forward several decades, and Ridge City recovered from its eponymous riots in the span of months.

  Already the streets were bustling as people ran their Monday evening errands, so worried about their plans and dreams, looking ahead to days that were in no way guaranteed. In the beginning, Nexus had almost felt for these mindless masses. They didn’t know what he knew, couldn’t see all the iterations he’d seen. They had no idea their world was at risk. They didn’t spot the slithering in the shadows, the old grudges blooming once more.

  Of course, that would all need patience. Big, beautiful machinations didn’t set themselves up overnight. Fine art required time and effort to craft, time that Nexus didn’t begrudge the artist. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to enjoy the lesser spectacles while he waited.

  His casual stroll came to a sudden halt as Nexus passed the front of a bookstore. A malicious grin appeared below his kaleidoscope eyes, which were obscured by the brim of his low-dipped hat. Walking in, Nexus made his way to the back, rifling through a few sections until he spotted a good fit. Paying no mind to the employees, Nexus returned to the front display and exchanged one of the visible books for his selection. Tossing the original display into a discount bin, Nexus stepped back outside to admire the handiwork.

  Perfect. That would provide the extra delay needed. Spinning around, Nexus scanned the roofline. Now that he’d ensured there would be a show to see, the next step was finding the best seat in the house.

  It was controlled chaos. To Ivan and Helen’s credit, asserting any level of control over a group of four girls and three boys was damn near a meta-human feat in itself, especially since they hadn’t gotten together in months. The collective of growing mouths had chewed through everything Ivan could churn out, and toward the end, Tori wasn’t sure he hadn’t used a little magic to fudge the cooking times.

  As their charges arrived, Tori made a point of learning their names quickly, determined to appear competent. The first on the scene was Newton, a young boy who Tori had yet to see sit, stop, or even slow down for longer than it took to grab a snack. After him was Mallory, who brought in a knapsack teeming with books that made her look somewhat like a turtle always just on the edge of tumbling over. Caden came next, and with him a nonstop string of questions and inquisitions that Helen mercifully had enough patience to either be or appear entirely unbothered by, even after hours of interrogation. Armand came along not long after, carrying with him a hatbox that Tori found rather curious—at least until Trudy arrived. When she walked in, Armand handed over the box, and from it, Trudy produced one of the most garish pieces of headwear Tori had ever witnessed, from the neon pink top to the zebra stripes along the band. It must have been just what she wanted, though, because Trudy wrapped Armand in a giant hug. Beth was dropped off soon after, greeting her friends cheerfully. While they were busy, Loyce wandered in, calling out a quick greeting before making a detour to sample Ivan’s culinary creations.

  By the time the last child was present, things had gotten loud. Thankfully, Helen turned out to have a talent for wrangling children. After watching her work for a few minutes, Tori could easily understand why the woman had this position. There was something about her demeanor, gentle but firm, that quickly struck the right chord. By the time Helen had gone through the general welcome, she had the attention of everyone in the room. Until Ivan walked in, of course.

  His outfit was near identical to Helen’s, save only that he’d chosen knee-length shorts over capris. In any other setting, Ivan likely would have stepped into a field of chuckles and some, at best, good-natured ribbing. However, this was perhaps the single scenario where he didn’t seem remotely out of place. No, it wasn’t the funny outfit that put the attention on Ivan.

  That honor belonged to Beth, who applauded with shouting enthusiasm as he walked into the room, prompting the other Starscouts to join in. It was strange, hearing them call Ivan “Mr. Gerhardt” and realizing that most of these kids thought they knew him. He was their friend’s dad, likely an acquaintance of their parents; the man no one had any reason to think twice about. How strange would it be, to only know half of someone? Tori couldn’t imagine; so far, she’d always met the secret personas before the covers, or it had been blatantly obvious like it had with Donald or the New Science Sentries. At this point, she was actually starting to wonder if any of the capes managed real secret identities.

  “Tori, when you’ve got a moment, I could use a hand at the dining room table.” Helen had walked over while Tori was lost in thought and Ivan was addressing the cluster. “Tonight is mostly just getting back in the swing of things, but we’ve got some crafting planned for the back half of our time. Trust me when I say you do not want to see a glitter project without proper tarping laid down.”

  From the half-circle of kids grouped up around Ivan, Beth looked over, catching Tori’s eye and giving her a soft wave. They hadn’t gotten to speak yet—Beth was dropped off only moments before the meeting had to start—but it was clear she remembered Tori from their last encounter. Well, the last one Beth knew of. Technically, they’d been together when Beth and Rick’s school came down, but Beth could hardly be blamed for not knowing. Tori had been sealed away in the armor of Hephaestus at the time.

  Treating herself to a chuckle-inducing look at Ivan’s exposed shins, Tori headed over to help the other cluster leader with the crafts. At least she didn’t have to busy herself wondering how to appear especially regular or mundane. If Tori wanted to come off as normal, Helen seemed like a fine example to follow.

  Chapter 21

  In any given day, any moment really, there exists untold possibilities. At any second, a person could stand up, walk through a door, and change their life. Few do, of course, because the appeal of infinite potential outcomes often pales in comparison to the daily worries that permeate one’s mind. Instead, people fall into habits, routines—limiting their possibilities in exchange for a fleeting glimpse of consistency in a chaotic world.

  For all her technological genius and criminal ways, Tori wasn’t special in this regard. She, like so many others, had a typical route she took: catch a car toward the office, disembark at the end of the block before traffic slowed to a crawl and walk the rest of the way in. Sometimes she would stop at Ridge City Grinders when there was time. It had become her pattern since moving out of Ivan’s home, and on that Tuesday morning, still groggy from a night dealing with children, Tori didn’t even contemplate approaching the office differently. Her mind was on the day ahead, and the potent espresso she’d be ordering before she faced it.

  The day was nice, a bit of early fall winds balancing the late summer heat—not that Tori was bothered by high temperatures. It was one of the few side-perks of her powers that extended to her human form, and there was something satisfying about being the only one dry when the rest of the office was sweating. Since the weather was pleasant, she to
ok her time, walking slowly down the spacious pedestrian sections.

  If not for memory, Tori would never have known this area was struck by looters during the Ridge City Riots. The attack was short-lived, since Beverly and Chloe had driven them out, yet even the lingering signs of damage had been swept away within weeks. Concrete repaired, glass reinstalled, and just like that, downtown was back to normal. Sometimes Tori wondered how many times this city had been repaired like that. How much of this place was even still the original Ridge City?

  Walking past a bookshop, a cover displayed in the front window caught Tori’s eye. Building Infinity: The Wade Wyatt Story was a favorite of hers for years, though now that she’d met the man, her faith in its accuracy was deeply shaken. Seeing as none of the biography had mentioned him being Doctor Mechaniacal, faking his own death, or being friends with Fornax, it seemed like a safe bet that she shouldn’t assume anything in those pages to be factual. Perhaps she could get the real story out of him one day. If he was going to tell the truth to anyone, it would probably be a member of the guild.

  It was thanks to being momentarily distracted that Tori didn’t notice the dark van creeping up along the nearby alley beyond the bookstore. She missed when four men hopped out as well. It wasn’t until Tori caught shadows approaching her from behind in the window’s reflection that she realized something might be up.

  Spinning around, she was faced with four identical balaclavas covering the men’s faces. One of the men stepped forward, trying to grab her.

  In that moment, Tori had to make a decision. There were people all around; it was a Tuesday morning in downtown. If she used her powers, there would be witnesses. Probably a cell phone video, the way her week was going. Any chance she might have had of not getting recognized was toast thanks to last week’s media exposure; she much too fresh a face for someone not to recall. Using her abilities needed to be a last-ditch resort. If things got dire, she would have to wield that tool in her arsenal, but there was no reason to start with it. Especially when she had plenty of other options.