Bones of the Past (Villains' Code Book 2)

by Drew Hayes

  Nexus did love when they went this way, however. It opened up new potentials, ones that few worlds ever got to catch even the barest glimpses of. For the upcoming show, it had the potential to add several unexpected layers. He was so excited, he could hardly wait. But wait he would, as the event’s kickoff was still plodding along through space, dragging their unseen secret weapon with them.

  He smiled as he looked down to the street, where all three criminals had been so expertly captured. While there might be some time left before the main event, he luckily had a few warm-up bouts to sustain him. One of which should be coming very soon, assuming this world paced with those similar. The potential for surprise was why Nexus kept coming back, even though he knew the beats by heart.

  There was always a chance that this time could be different, a truth he found infinitely amusing.

  Chapter 56

  “Tori, grab the glitter before it falls off the table. Newton, watch out, you nearly hit Trudy’s glue. Ivan, any ETA on that next round of snacks?”

  Helen stood in the middle of the storm, directing children and staff alike as they zipped around working on their banner for next week’s End of Summer Shindig. Soon, all of them would be gathered with the rest of the local clusters for several days of camping, activities, competition, and general fun. It was the year’s big kickoff, a way to ease the blow of summer’s end for the kids coping with a return to school. Preparations had been underway while Tori was busy being kidnapped, but it was clear her absence had caused little to no impact with Helen at the wheel. More impressive was that Helen was never harsh or demanding with the kids: only firm, supportive, and shockingly patient. Ivan had really lucked out when they paired him up.

  Not that he was having trouble blending in. As Ivan made his way in from the kitchen, a bevy of toasted mini-sandwiches and homemade tiny pizzas stacked upon a tray in his hands, Tori could have easily pictured him wandering into one of her own childhood meetings. He would have fit in perfectly. Huge purple oven mitts that he didn’t even need, a borrowed apron, and a mildly uncertain expression, he looked like pretty much every dad she’d ever seen roped into pitching in—except, he was happy to be there. Well, he seemed happy if one knew how to read Ivan’s stalwart nature.

  Across the table, Beth was hunched over, deep in concentration as she scrawled bubble lettering, attempting to capture the entire cluster’s roster in her fanciest handwriting. As one of the older kids present, it had fallen to her to handle such a delicate task. So far, there had been no flare-ups or issues with those silver blades, and if Tori didn’t know better, she’d have had no idea Beth was a meta-human. Tori wondered, aware that she could probably never ask, how much of Beth’s control was inherent, versus trained. Was it possible Ivan had been giving Beth side-instruction, or were the AHC’s new programs for helping non-capes control their powers really that good? It was an issue to keep in mind—that pool could be used for recruitment with minimal effort. After all, who was going to say no if someone like Professor Quantum or Lodestar told a new meta they had the makings of a superhero?

  Beth, hopefully—not that Tori imagined it would ever reach that point. Ivan would certainly step in long before his daughter went the path of the capes. Otherwise, the guild would end up having to add new rules to the code about keeping miles away from her any time she was in costume, lest they meet Fornax’s wrath.

  Tori forced her mind away from superheroes, centering on the night she was dealing with. It wasn’t often she got to spend time on something entirely normal, and while the circumstances of getting here were undeniably meta-tinged, the nights themselves were completely mundane. She turned her attention to corralling the kids, aiming them as best she could back toward the various sections of the banner. There was an area near the top where Helen had the children with high energy shaking glitter cannisters all over the place—mercifully, she’d laid down plastic sheeting in advance. Sooner or later, even children could wear themselves out, and once they were tuckered Helen shifted them to a different activity.

  Mallory was working on making lists of supplies they would need, taking it a step further to create customized checklists for each of her peers, complete with bright marker-colored boxes to cross off. When they could pry Loyce away from the snack trays, she was aiding Trudy with making the campground decorations. Considering that the materials for these were of the craft paper and popsicle stick variety, they were crafting some surprisingly substantial displays. Caden, meanwhile, was laying out the supplies for a paper mâché project, though Tori noticed him getting restless. With a quick check on Newton, who was losing steam on the glitter cannisters, and a look to Helen for confirmation, she decided it was time for a change-out.

  When Tori brought Caden over, Helen was waiting, glitter can at the ready as she slapped it into Caden’s hands. A child with a chance to make a mess needs little direction; without a word, Caden had joined the others, jumping and shaking the can of sparkles with all his tiny might. Helen took a few steps away, dodging Newton as he bolted across the room to take over on paper mâché; though, if she was hoping to spare her outfit from rogue shimmer, that battle was long since lost.

  “Holding up okay? Need anything?” The words were carefully whispered, and never broke the happy grin on Helen’s face that was turned toward the kids. It wasn’t the first time she’d checked in on Tori that night, but she also hadn’t been excessive about it.

  “I’m fine, really. Although kidnappings are not my favorite activity, it’s not like I haven’t already been through some rough spots. Office attack, club attack, nearly getting crushed in the street—that’s just life in Ridge City, you know?”

  Helen nodded; however, there was an expression on her face that Tori couldn’t quite place. Concern, probably, though if she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought it was edging over into guilt. “You are unquestionably a tough, capable person, but even those types have to let it out sometimes. If you ever need help, please don’t be afraid to ask.”

  Much as Tori would have liked to callously brush the whole thing aside and put the idea to bed, she couldn’t exactly be rude to Ivan’s friend, especially one who was helping out so much with the cluster. Past that, there was something sincere about Helen, in a way that itched Tori’s brain yet she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Whatever it was, it turned lines that should have sounded like hollow pleasantries into genuine care. Even for Tori, it was hard to be shitty when she believed someone was truly trying to make things better.

  “Thanks. Not sure I’ll take you up on that, but the sentiment is appreciated.”

  “All I can do is offer.” Helen’s face suddenly twisted in worry as she darted into the fray. “One sandwich at a time, Loyce! Just because they’re small doesn’t mean you can’t choke on them.”

  Emory was dripping in sweat as the last of the machines slipped back into the wall. Overhead, the large clock had reached zero, meaning he was finally permitted a few moments to rest. Near collapsing, he grabbed a bottle of water from the small cubby built into the wall by the door. It was one of the only places in this chamber that wouldn’t be in peril, mostly by virtue of sliding behind an armored wall when the clock started. Slamming the liquid as fast as he could, Emory tried to catch his breath at the same time. It seemed a fool’s errand, but after over a week of this, he was nearly getting it down.

  “Very nice.” Xelas’s voice echoed through the room, coming from unseen speakers woven through the design. “A few more like that, and we’ll be ready to step you up a notch.”

  In the beginning, Emory had argued. He’d complained, asking why he needed to fight these mechanical opponents, overcome these painful, yet not lethal, traps. For a long time, Xelas had said nothing. It was only a few days prior that he’d finally been given an answer. The words rang in his head as he guzzled the water. They’d been haunting him ever since, seeping all the way down to his bones.

  “Why the training?” It was the first time he’d seen her turn seriou
s, a sharp indicator of what was to come. “Because your power isn’t all that impressive, and I don’t want you to die right out of the gate. I want you to be skilled enough to survive for a full year. But if you don’t want that, we can call it anytime you like.”

  Emory yearned to reject that idea, yet he couldn’t. The fate of his gang was proof that there were leagues far greater than the one he’d been playing in, and now, he was around meta-humans using an entirely different scale of power. If there was one lesson Emory had taken from his gang’s slaughter, it was that death came swift and without warning. The only ones who’d walked away that night were the powerful ones, like Xelas.

  If Emory wanted to live, to survive, perhaps one day even to thrive in their world, then he needed to be stronger. Meeting Xelas’s standards was the first step, with untold more to come. Polishing off the rest of his water, Emory placed the bottle back into the cubby, then nodded up at the clock.

  “Ready for another round.”

  Xelas was almost purring this time. “You know, I really didn’t expect to enjoy having a pet this much, but that attitude does make it fun. Very well, my little apprentice. Ask, and you shall receive.”

  “Okay, you’ve been staring at your phone for a full five minutes now. Everyone okay, or did you find the mother of all entrancing gifs?”

  The words yanked Beverly from her fugue. Chloe was right, she had indeed been lost in thought for some time. Together, they were sitting on the couch while an old episode of The Meta Bunch ran, Chloe researching some new coffee preparation technique they were trying in gastropubs while Beverly had intended to catch up on email. That plan had fallen apart when she hit the first one waiting for her, however. Tori would have been the preferable one to discuss the issue with, but it wasn’t as though this connected to anything directly villain-related.

  “I got an email from my oldest brother,” Beverly explained. “He’s reaching out to see if I want to come by the house for a visit.”

  Chloe perked up, showing new interest in her friend’s distraction. “I’ve been curious. You always talk about your family like you’re close, but I’ve never seen you visit or take a call from them.”

  The truth was, Beverly considered herself very close with her family. They’d always been a unit, a team, and unfortunately, those instincts had been in full effect when she first became Bahamut. “We had something of a falling out, the night I got my powers. You have to understand, pretty much my entire family was in the service, mostly Marines. It’s a tradition that goes back generations. Before Lodestar changed the nature of war, they had plenty of chances to see traditional combat, to develop certain habits. So when a green monster suddenly burst into their home, roaring and destroying whatever it touched, they responded the way you’d expect from trained soldiers.”

  “They attacked you.” Chloe could be more perceptive than her overall demeanor let on, and Beverly was glad for it. That saved her trouble of walking her all the way to the proper conclusion, even if there was still more story to tell.

  “I get it, from their perspective. All they heard was my scream, a roar, and then some monster runs down the stairs. Easy to assume it’s a meta-intruder that just attacked Beverly. They opened fire on me, almost without hesitation. But I didn’t know I was bulletproof in green dragon form back then, so I was terrified. I tried to escape, except they were positioned in front of the exits in case of retreat, and I ended up slamming through several in my scramble to get away from the bullets—before I understood, or could control my strength, mind you. I think a few of them are still wearing casts. Thank goodness no one was permanently injured.”

  No matter how tight-knit a family might be, attempted murder was a tough hurdle to get past. Beverly could still see her own kin turning their weapons on her, the killing intent clear in their eyes, just as she could still feel the crunch of their bones as she tried to sweep them aside. Time and distance had been the appropriate salve for the wound as Beverly gained control and her family healed. But she was long past accidental transformations, and it sounded as though there was only so much physical mending left to do on their end. If the wound between her and her family wasn’t patched soon, it threatened to become a scar, the sort that could never fully heal.

  “Your brother wants to make amends. That’s something,” Chloe pointed out.

  It was something, that was true. Beverly just wasn’t sure it was enough. If she went before everyone was ready, it could make things worse. Ambrose was the peacemaker of the group; as the oldest child, he often ended up as the default referee on disagreements. Him being ready to talk wasn’t the same as the whole family being in a good headspace.

  She wouldn’t get anywhere by sitting around speculating, though. Beverly began to type, her mind now set. “I think I’ll meet with just Ambrose for now, get a feel in person for how the family is holding up.”

  “If you need a public spot with some privacy, I can let you use one of the Ridge City Grinders rooms that people rent out for meetings. Haven’t exactly been slammed on that front since the riots, anyway.”

  “Thanks. I might take you up on that.” Beverly’s hands continued to move, albeit with a slight touch of hesitation. She might have no problem diving headfirst into deadly battle, but dealing with family was a far more perilous undertaking.

  Chapter 57

  Saturday marked two major moments for Tori. The second would come much later, but the first happened quite early. Somewhere around four in the morning, Tori conducted her first fully successful test of the miniature aerosolized dispersion device. Getting the nozzle angles perfect proved to be a surprisingly tough part, as it demanded precise calculation to ensure the solution would spray only away from the user. The formula had also required a dash of fine-tuning. Its original incarnation could burn skin if the mix was even the slightest bit off. By altering a few ratios, Tori managed to produce something that was incredibly annoying, distracting, even painful, but that wouldn’t cause any lasting damage. That she knew of, anyway. Probably have to run that part by Wade for testing.

  It felt good to have the task cleared off her plate, but Tori didn’t kick back with a cold one and relax at the accomplishment. Instead, she shifted gears to her other project of the week: fine-tuning the Hephaestus suit for the evening’s activities. Tori’s key goal was to recalibrate the mini-gravitational anomaly generators until the suit felt like moving in her own body. It was more efficient to shift the suit’s movements than it was to relearn all of her tactics in a heavier form. The less difference there was, the more fluid she could be as Hephaestus.

  That shouldn’t matter, in theory, when Tori took the suit out later on. They were only working guard duty. She didn’t even have any cameras to hack, as it turned out. All she needed to do was have her sensors engaged and keep scanning. Lance’s bugs would be more than enough deterrent for any non-meta, plus Warren was setting up a few glyphs around the area in advance. Beverly was the muscle, leaving Tori to handle long-distance perimeter sweeps.

  That was what she kept telling herself, even as she made sure the suit’s weapons systems were all showing full functionality. Whether the night would actually prove to be peaceful or not, Tori had her doubts. Every time she put that suit on, she was stepping into another world, a world where things could go very sideways, very fast. The wrong meta in the wrong place, and who knew what might happen. That was why she had to be prepared for any outcome, no matter the mission. Even as a simple lookout, Hephaestus would be ready.

  Until then, there was refining to do. The job wasn’t until night, which offered a much-needed opportunity for some napping. She could also show Beverly the completed prototype, once her friend was up for the day. Tori had managed to cram her Saturday quite full of activity, a not-so-subtle tactic of staying busy to keep her mind off other concerns. The habit might not be all that healthy, but it did help make her exceptionally productive, so Tori could live with the tradeoff. As Hephaestus, with almost all of her abilities tied int
o the suit, being a perfectionist workaholic was more likely to increase her lifespan than lessen it.

  It certainly wasn’t as if having fully optimized beam weapons would make her a worse scout, after all. Just one with more options.

  The sounds of the footsteps were heavy, despite the carpeting. Ivan listened as they came, hearing both the current sounds and the countless other versions echoing from throughout the years. He could remember those footsteps when they first began, so unsure and wobbling. Then came the faster, more dangerous footsteps, careening around as stability was learned. From there, they mostly just got bigger and louder, with a few particularly happy events bringing them back to that frantic, unsure pace. Today, they sounded especially firm, like a man marching down to face judgment.

  Rick emerged from the stairwell of the townhome, walking into the kitchen where Ivan was already working on a skillet full of eggs. He’d been up prepping for an hour already; Tori wasn’t the only one who liked to keep busy when she felt nervous.

  Sliding up to the breakfast bar, Rick sat in one of stools, looking at his father with slightly bleary eyes. There hadn’t been much chance to talk the night before. Since he and Beth were dropped off together, they couldn’t very well dig into the issue of Ivan’s past. Neither had said anything on the matter, in fact. For a time, Ivan almost convinced himself that Rick was content to let the issue momentarily rest. Now, seeing his teenage son up just before dawn, Ivan realized that this had been his plan from the start. Rise early—the time when Beth was sleeping and Ivan was making breakfast.