by Drew Hayes
Tori slammed her palm into the face of the man reaching for her, then spun to her right and kicked another in the side of the knee. She could hear cartilage tearing over the sound of his scream, but not by a lot. Someone tried to grab her left arm, earning themselves an elbow to the nose for their trouble. Since he reeled after the first blow, Tori added a second, forcing him to finally back away. Blood stained the facemask as he sputtered out curses in a nasal voice.
“Come on, you cowards. What’s wrong? Expected this to be easy? You dipshits think I’ve never taken a self-defense course? This is Ridge fucking City. We know how to survive out here. At least until someone calls a cape.”
The fight was quickly drawing attention. Civilians were pointing, yelling, and, as predicted, pulling out their cameras. Tori hoped the line would assuage anyone wondering how she was holding four attackers at bay, but mostly she wanted it to get other people involved. She wasn’t winning. She was buying time. Against these numbers, she needed either her tech or her powers; without them, this was just a stalling measure.
When Tori felt the next hand close on her, she knew the jig was up. It was too big. There was no way this wasn’t a meta. Sure enough, moments later she was lifted into the air, meeting the eyes of fifth attacker who’d apparently come over when the first four couldn’t close. His face, too, was obscured, though the build gave away that he was a muscle-based meta, most likely as tough as he was strong. Probably still flammable, if she was willing to play that card publicly.
“Hurting you isn’t part of this, but if you keep fighting, it might have to be.” Calm, collected, in control of the situation despite things spinning out of hand. This one was dangerous; all the more so because the hulking types were usually underestimated mentally—according to Thuggernaut, anyway. If he was smart enough to know how to do this right, then maybe he also knew he shouldn’t be doing it at all.
Tori laughed in his face, loud and harsh. Her words, however, were soft, meant only for the man keeping her bound. “Hurt me? You world-class fuckheads are kidnapping a citizen in the middle of broad daylight on a Ridge City street. We both know how this ends. Your crew is as good as dead. The only question left is whether or not they die screaming.”
The eyes widened; she’d definitely hit home. Unfortunately, while Tori had been putting the fear of the guild into someone, another attacker was also busy. She didn’t see the injector. All Tori felt was the pinch of metal sliding into her leg. There was a split second where she could have shifted to fire, but with the terror rolling off her captor, it seemed a better bet to keep her secret for now. Only seconds later, when the first wave of drowsiness hit, did Tori realize her mistake. What she’d mistaken for a stabbing was, in fact, a drugging.
“Cheating... sons of... bitches.” That was her last conscious thought before she went limp in her still shaken kidnapper’s arms.
“Come on. We need to go!” One of the voices was helping the man with a freshly injured knee back to the van. People were still milling around; however, seeing the woman go limp had invigorated a few, there was likely to soon be trouble.
Darius delicately set Tori on his shoulder, taking great care not to injure her. How the hell did she know about the rules, and that they were breaking them? Kidnapping was obviously against the law, but doing it like this was against the rules, and that mattered far more. Certain things got people vanished, and shit like this was definitely in that category. The most likely answer was that it was a bluff, something she knew a speck about and happened to guess near the mark. But something about this woman didn’t sit right.
Normal people couldn’t fight the way they saw in movies. There were limitations beyond just skill or strength. To actively hurt another person with intent wasn’t easy. It required a specific mindset, usually developed through training. People held back, they tried to do only as much damage as a threat required. Not this woman. Tori had only gone for crippling blows. Without hesitation, at that. Every strike she threw came with the intent of breaking the people around her, and when she succeeded, she only went for more. Given the situation, it was an understandable mindset, just not one a civilian should have been capable of.
As the van peeled out back down the alley, taking the preplanned escape route, Darius made certain to keep their captive safely in his grip. Until he knew more about just how much they’d bitten off, it was best to play things cautiously.
It was a bit early for a phone call. Ivan grabbed the cell off his desk, noting the number. The company on the ID was guild-affiliated in the same way as Vendallia, in that they were an Indigo Technologies subsidy owned by Wade Wyatt. These tended to be the easiest ways to pass semi-private messages around, since they both raised no suspicion and could be claimed as confidential company conversations.
Picking up, he was unsurprised to hear the voice of Xelas. Her tone, on the other hand, was immediately off-putting. Xelas was not typically prone to concern. “Ivan, this is Alexis from Confide Messaging. We’re reaching out to you in regard to your niece, Tori Rivas. Based on the trending information available on social media, it appears she was just kidnapped off the street. If you’d like to watch for yourself, I’ll wait on the line.”
The fact that Ivan could type without shattering his keyboard in that moment spoke to how much control he’d gained through the years. He opened up a new tab, skimmed past blog posts questioning if Lodestar had lost a step in her time away, and clicked on the rising trend. If he hadn’t known the victim was Tori, the hashtag “#RidgeFuckingCity” would have given it away.
Watching the video, Ivan was surprised. He hadn’t anticipated the sense of pride rising in his chest as he saw Tori handle herself without so much as a spark of heat in sight. She’d done wonderfully, fully selling herself as a human being fighting with everything they had. Hard as she fought, once the syringe was injected Tori quickly went limp. At least the brute carrying her into a van had the sense to be careful.
When the guild was exposed, Ivan knew this day would come. The edicts they imposed through whispers and carried out in the shadows couldn’t endure once the guild wasn’t around to enforce them. Common criminals had been growing bolder and bolder. Now, they were actually stealing people off the streets. Were their target anyone else, Ivan would have left it for the capes to handle. The AHC wanted to have the whole game to itself, so the guild was planning to let them... except that now, it was complicated.
Not just because they’d kidnapped Tori, which involved Ivan on a personal level. That, actually, would have been much easier. No, the issue here was that they’d kidnapped a member of the guild. Even if the crooks had no idea, it didn’t matter. One day, the truth could come out. This world ran on respect and power. The guild endured because it was unassailable, and to challenge them held blood-soaked consequences.
“I’m assuming the myriad of security protocols in place mean there’s some way to track her,” Ivan said. “Tell our favorite nerd I’m coming in. Let’s establish contact first, then see how she wants to play it.”
“You want to let her run the show?” It wasn’t the surprise in Xelas’s voice so much as the amusement that worried Ivan.
“If someone managed to get you off the street, would you let anyone else run point on making them pay for it?”
There was a stretch of silence, and when Xelas spoke again, it nearly sent a real chill down Ivan’s spine. “No, I’d definitely want to be the one to peel them. All right, Ivan, get here as soon as you can. Since this is national news, the company wheels are already turning to get you let off work. See you soon.”
The phone went dead, but Ivan didn’t set it down yet. Instead, he punched in a number he knew by heart but was not saved to his phone. It rang five times, then went to voicemail. If Helen wasn’t answering, then she was most likely busy. Given the events of the morning, Ivan could make a wager on where her attention was being demanded. It would have been nice to talk with her, lay down some ground rules, and stay out of each other’s way. N
ice, but unlikely to happen, even if the call went through.
This was a declaration: a kidnapping in the AHC’s backyard, of a woman one of their members just saved. The message was clear. They were calling out the capes. Besides being an intensely dumb thing to do, that wasn’t the sort of gauntlet the AHC could ignore. People needed to trust the capes for that system to work. If the trust failed, it all went tumbling down. The AHC was going to come at this one hard.
Which just meant it was all the more important that the guild handled things first. Once the capes were involved, everything grew vastly more complicated. It was much easier to slaughter people wholesale without superheroes around. In the end, that would be up to Tori, though. She was the one who would bear the most consequence. She should decide how to handle things.
Assuming, of course, that she was okay. Because if Tori wasn’t okay—an idea Ivan was working hard not to entertain—then things were going to get messy. Ivan would make certain of it.
Chapter 22
The car smelled the same. If pressed, Tori would have said that there was no way she could recall the scent of her dad’s old sedan, yet as she sat in the back seat, the odor was instantly recognizable. As were the two figures seated up front. Just the sight of their shadows, obscured by the cursed sun coming through the windshield, was enough to make her heart crack. Her mom was driving, playfully swatting Tori’s father’s hands while he fiddled with the radio. They laughed, and he leaned across the seats to kiss his wife on the cheek. For a moment, it was perfect.
With all she had, Tori wanted to touch them, hold them once more. She reached out, her hands small, too small, the way they were when that horrible day came. Her arms strained, trying in vain to move a little bit closer, an inch at a time, struggling to so much as brush their skin.
Instead of touching her parents, Tori only managed to shake herself out of the dream, coming back to consciousness as the pain of her wrists tugging against metal became more and more pressing. Waking with a start, Tori realized she was handcuffed to a chair. In her sleep, she had been trying to reach up, which had caused the metal to bite into her flesh. Shaking her head rapidly, working to shrug off whatever drugs she’d been given, Tori took several deep breaths, then evaluated her surroundings.
Cement all around: no windows, a single toilet, one door, and a pair of wireless cameras posted at opposite corners of the room. Tori bit back a curse. If not for the cameras, she could just fire-form her way out of the handcuffs and find a crack to slip through. Then again, that would still leave the mystery of how she’d escaped, which might stir unwarranted trouble down the line. She didn’t even know who had her yet, or what they wanted. There might be smarter ways to play this than running for a door.
Forcing her brain to calm down, shoving aside the emotion her dream had stirred up, Tori thought hard. This was a situation where every variable had to be considered. First and foremost, she needed to remember that right now, she was here as Tori Rivas. No one in the gang knew about her connections; otherwise, they’d have steered clear or killed her outright. This was not the proper level of restraint for a guild member. As Tori, her options were limited: wait for rescue, maybe talk some shit.
There was, however, the possibility that these people didn’t just want a damsel. They might want a victim, too, something to send the capes a bloody and harsh message. In that case, Tori would have to take a back seat to Hephaestus, suit or no. It wouldn’t be an easy fight—they had numbers, resources, and at least one strong meta. Her best-case scenario would likely be to escape, leaving survivors who knew her secret. Perhaps the guild would be able to mop them up, but there were no guarantees.
Tori also had to consider the possibility that the big one knew enough to realize how badly he’d fucked up. If she could wear on that pressure point, make him realize that they’d just broken a rule with serious consequences, she might convince him to set her free. Overly optimistic, certainly, but right now, Tori could do with a little senseless hope.
As things stood, her best bet was to play the part of the captive human. If the capes found her first, she’d be what they were expecting. On the other hand, if the guild arrived first, she’d just take some light teasing for letting herself get captured. Technically, there was a chance that neither would find her, though Tori considered that to be borderline ridiculous. However, with metas, one could never be fully sure. The right power at the right time could make all the difference.
The clang of a lock turning was her only warning before the door swung open. In stepped a freckled man with tissues stuffed up his nose, a meta with visibly snake-like features, the big meta, and a couple of goons milling about in the rear. The freckled one with the jacked-up nose started forward quickly. While not the world’s most socially aware villain, Tori had been around enough scumbags to recognize a posturing walk when she saw one. Her elbow to the nose had hurt his ego, and now he was looking to reclaim some pride.
“Looks who’s up. It’s our little fighter. Those were quite some moves, Miss Rivas. Did your friend Tachyonic show them to you? Perhaps without the mask on? You’ll find us excellent hosts to talkative guests.” Her captor’s voice was cloying as he circled the chair, moving out of her line of sight for stretches of time. It was meant to make her unsure, worried about what he’d do behind her back. Instead, it was mostly annoying, since he was harder to hear at some points of the spiel.
For all her forethought, in that moment, Tori realized she had neither the inclination nor the patience to pretend in front of these idiots. She’d just have to hit the pressure points hard and hope they let her go fast. Subtlety was never her strong point; Tori preferred an upfront confrontation. At this point, it was more for their sake than hers, anyway.
“God, you’re fucking stupid. I mean, sincerely, do you have some amazing power? Can you fight on par with Professor Quantum, run as fast as Ricky Rocket? Or did you win all these people over with meta-level handjobs? Because it damn sure wasn’t your deductive skills. Tachyonic and the rest of the New Science Sentries arrived last week. If you think I learned to fight like that on seven days of training, then you should be trying to recruit me, not asking dumbass questions.”
That was not the answer most of them had been expecting. Only the big meta seemed largely unfazed that she wasn’t crumpling or afraid in spite of the situation. Freckles, the one talking, had a moment of visible panic, but lucky for him, he was facing Tori at the time. The rest of the gang didn’t see the fear that ran through him. He was trying to reassert control, and Tori wasn’t letting him have it.
“Brave, bold words, no doubt born of certainty that the capes will save you,” her captor said. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret. We procured technology specifically designed to keep them from doing just that. Think hard about your next words. There won’t—”
“I’m sorry, did you say you had tech to keep them out?” Tori didn’t hide the incredulity on her face. In fact, she made it as obvious as possible. “You want to use technology to stop Professor Quantum.” She leaned back, blowing idly into the air. “Christ, man, what’s next? You going to try to light Infernical on fire? I can’t believe you’ve managed to figure out how not to shit in your pants, given what you’re showing me so far. Have you, actually? Those slacks could hide a diaper, now that I look closely. Tell me if I’m talking too fast or need to use smaller words.”
The skin between those freckles was getting red, a sign of her constant backtalk clearly getting to her captor. Still, he tried to retain control while his peons were looking on. Leaning forward, he took a firm grip on her shoulder. That drew a slight bit of concern from the big meta, though he didn’t step forward entirely.
“Listen here.” The freckled man’s voice had turned into a hiss, all false sweetness vanished. “I can be a good host, or a cruel one. Do not mistake my hospitality for weakness. Hear me well on this point: if you test me, I will give you the discipline you so clearly crave. That is my promise to you. But if you c
an compose yourself, perhaps you can make it through this alive.”
It was a good speech, the scariest bit he’d managed so far. In another life, it might have worked. Even before the guild, she understood self-preservation enough to soothe some sociopathic egos. Except that this kid, whoever he was, didn’t scare her. Couldn’t scare her, unless he was hiding a massive ability. He wasn’t in the league of people she socialized with, to say nothing of the ones she genuinely feared. None of them were. They were playing on the edge of a vast chasm, with no idea of the horrors that lay a single slip away.
“Okay, if we’re laying things out, then here’s my counter-proposal: let me go right now, and there’s a chance your gang will survive.”
Laughter from the back, and from the captor seconds later. Not from the big meta, however. He was the one Tori made sure to meet the eyes of as she continued.
“Yeah, it’s funny. I get that. One gal, tied to a chair—what’s she going to do? Just don’t get it twisted, dipshit. I’m not threatening you: I’m warning you. Maybe you didn’t get the news somehow, but what you did today is a major no-no. On a lot of levels, in fact. You’re about to piss off people you don’t even want to know your name, let alone be mad at you.”
Here, the freckled fellow finally found something to pounce on. “You think we’re afraid of the capes? We’re doing this specifically to confront them.”
Tori’s frustration began to bleed over. “Listen to me, you walking corpse. You’ll never see the capes. You’ll never get whatever fight you want. By the time they arrive, you’ll be nothing but smeared pulp and charred stains along the walls. I’m trying to warn you while there’s time to change that. Your enemy won’t fly down from the skies, they’ll sneak up from the shadows. By the time they’re here, you won’t even have time to piss yourse—”