The Games of Supervillainy (The Supervillainy Saga Book 2)

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The Games of Supervillainy (The Supervillainy Saga Book 2) Page 5

by Phipps, C. T.


  Angel Eyes retaliated by pulling out a wand and shooting a blast of pure mystical force at me. I conjured a shield of super-condensed ice in front of it which was shattered to pieces, but dissipated the effects of his spell. Angel Eyes prepared another blast only to be knocked backwards by Diabloman's hellhound slamming into him. Apparently, the demonic poochie had marshaled its courage while everything was going to hell.

  “He is vulnerable to my magic,” Diabloman said. “We can kill him if we work together.”

  “Good work!” I said, ready to take advantage of that fact.

  Angel Eyes grabbed the hellhound by its throat and proceeded to snap the creature’s neck, causing it to disappear in a puff of brimstone and fire. Angel Eyes was, officially, pissed off now.

  “Gary!” Mandy shouted.

  I waved for her to run to us. “Run away, Mandy! He's a crazed stalker! Who knows what he's capable of!”

  Angel Eyes got up, glowing with bright and brilliant energy which caused the entire opera house to shine. “You dare strike the Chosen of Aphrodite?!”

  “When they tell me they kidnap my wife and hold her prisoner?” I said, snapping. “Yes. Prepare to die, pretty boy!”

  Mandy pulled out a pistol attached to a holster hidden against her leg and fired it in the air. “Please!”

  Everyone stopped.

  “Gary, I'm not a prisoner,” Mandy said, staring between me and Angel Eyes.

  “You're not?” I asked.

  “I said she wasn’t!” Angel Eyes snapped.

  One of the surviving punks said, “Hell no, she’s not a prisoner. When we tried to bring her in, she killed two of us! She forced Barry to bring her to the Boss at gunpoint.”

  Mandy looked annoyed. “I was hijacking a food truck for refugees when they tried to ambush me. How the hell would you react?”

  The punk looked down. “Sorry.”

  I stared at Angel Eyes. “So you did try to kidnap her but you failed.”

  “She did, technically, come to me rather than the reverse,” Angel Eyes said, looking embarrassed. “She came to me, this brown-haired warrior goddess, holding my men at gun point.” Angel Eyes placed his hands over his heart. “I was smitten and it took it upon myself to woo her. I would never have sent my challenge to you if I'd known what a charming creature she was.”

  “Okay, Angel Eyes, you're going to die,” I said. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it but it’s going to happen.”

  “Gary!” Mandy shouted. “You are not killing him.”

  “I'm not?” I said, really wanting to teach this guy a lesson.

  Mandy explained her reasoning for coming here. “Angel Eyes is the leader of the most powerful gang left in the city. He controls territory, weapons, magic, and supplies. I came to him to negotiate a truce for the good of the refugees. I was just about to seal the deal when you guys came barging in.”

  “What's with the evening dress then?” Cindy asked, staring.

  Mandy looked at her next. It was a death-glare worse than the one she'd given Angel Eyes. She didn't have to justify it to me, even if I found the implications she'd use whatever method she could to influence him...disquieting.

  Cindy then looked to me, only to see a similar expression. “Right, this is none of my business. I'll be shutting up now.”

  Cindy put away her ray gun, which she hadn’t fired anyway. Maybe it was harder for her to strike Angel Eyes than she let on.

  “Wise idea,” Diabloman said.

  I sighed, putting my hands on my hips. “Fine. D, stand down. Punks? Know I could kill you all with my brain. As I'm enjoying this insanity. I need a few moments alone with my wife. Can we call a ten minute truce?”

  Angel Eyes bowed his head, placing his hand over his heart. “As you wish.”

  “That works?” Diabloman sounded surprised. “Dammit, I could have done that with the Nightwalker.”

  Climbing up on the stage, I walked over to my wife and took her by the hands. Looking over my shoulders to make sure no one else could hear our conversation, I whispered, “Please don't divorce me.”

  “What?” My wife looked as confused as she’d ever been, which was impressive given she was married to me.

  I started to ramble, cupping my hands together. “I know I've been gone a month and it's my own damn fault for being involved in all of this supervillainy stuff. I swear to God, though, I did everything in my power to get back here as fast as I could. It was an accident with the teleporter and I never meant to leave you alone for a day let alone a month. I love you more than life itself and can't bear to imagine life without you.”

  I was feeling more than a little bit guilty about my missing time, becoming a supervillain, and most of all about the kiss I shared with Gabrielle on the moon. It had been a moment of weakness between the two of us. This whole supervillain thing had spiraled out of control and if I had to choose between it and my marriage, well, my marriage came first.

  As hard as it would be.

  “Gary, I'm not divorcing you,” Mandy said, looking surprised I even thought it was possible.

  “Oh thank God.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I knew you weren’t deliberately avoiding me,” Mandy said, stared at me. “Ultragod called me within ten minutes of your teleportation and said you were stuck in the fold-space relay’s feedback loop. I was pissed off at you for getting involved in a supervillain prison riot but he explained you saved his life. You saved a lot of lives, something about a giant demon, and you killing it.”

  “Shh!” I put a finger over my mouth. “Don’t talk about that. It would destroy my reputation forever.”

  Cindy shouted over at us. “Gary, we already know you're a VINO. We forgive you.”

  Apparently, I’d underestimated the distance necessary to not be heard.

  Either that or she just had really good hearing.

  Mandy raised an eyebrow. “Vino?”

  “Villain In Name Only,” I replied, glaring at Cindy. “It's about the worst label which can be attached to a villain. It’s all downhill from there. Hell, you might as well defect to becoming a hero. Thankfully, I’m just beginning my career and can always work my way up to Villain In Actuality.”

  “You just are incapable of having an epiphany about yourself, aren’t you?” Cloak muttered.

  “Hmm?” I said back.

  Mandy sighed and felt her head. “We do need to have a serious talk about your henchmen but otherwise, I'm fine.”

  “Henchpersons,” Cindy corrected.

  “What part of a few moments alone did not register with you, Cindy?” I shouted back at her.

  “Clearly the entire concept,” Cindy said, throwing her hands up. “I’ll be over here.”

  Mandy looked tired of this entire business. “I like Cindy, sort of, but I do think we need to set some boundaries.”

  “Will do,” I said, looking over at Angel Eyes. “What about the Phantom of the Opera?”

  “We need to recruit him,” Mandy said. “We need more power to fight the zombie infestation and he’s a heavy hitter. I also don’t think he’s evil. I…I think he’s mentally ill.”

  “I never would have guessed!”

  “Remember the old adage about people throwing stones in glass houses?”

  “I think we can help him,” Mandy said, diverting the subject. “With the right treatment, he could not only help this city but become a powerful force for good in general. I think he just needs the right encouragement to get help.”

  “You're kidding, right?” I asked, appalled.

  Mandy stared right back. “I've been putting up with your henchpeople for a month. Look what they did to our basement. By the way, I want it put back to the way it was. I don't need to walk two stories to do our laundry.”

  “Okay.” I waved my hand dismissively. “I don't need a lair, anyway.”

  “Seriously, your henchmen need their own place.”

  “Will do,” I answered. “I’ll buy them a nightclub or deca
ying mansion to stay in. I have a small fortune in gold down in the baseme—”

  “And you need to return all that stolen money.”

  “That might be a problem.”

  “Gary... “

  “Can't we donate half of it to charity?”

  “Gary, I'm allowing you to be a supervillain. Don't press me on this.”

  “I'll return all the money which belonged to people who either didn't deserve it being taken away or couldn't afford it,” I replied, sighing. “If I can't find them, I'll put it in a generic zombie relief fund. Can we at least keep what we extort from criminals?”

  “Fine.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I'm still not sure about this 'not killing Angel Eyes' thing, though.”

  “He's a demigod, Gary, how would you even go about killing him?” Mandy pointed out an obvious problem with my plan.

  “I'm sure the Society of Superheroes has some hydra blood somewhere. I'll sneak back into New Avalon and take it,” I said. Technically, I’d already killed a god during my prison break. I’d destroyed Magog the Nephilim, a being which was just sort of Godzilla in terms of strength and power. I’d done that with Death’s help, though, and I wasn’t sure what kind of cost I was going to be paying for that down the line. None of that was relevant now.

  Mandy glared again.

  “No dice?”

  “No dice,” Mandy repeated. “Now I want you to go over there and make peace with Adonis.”

  I glanced over at him, taking in the man's majestic presence. “The fact he looks like Brad Pitt's more attractive younger brother isn't influencing your decision, is it?”

  “Don't be ridiculous,” Mandy said. “You can't even see his face.”

  “No,” I said. “Just his rippling biceps, long flowing hair, and s... I'll stop now.”

  “Please do. Unless there's something you want to admit to me.” Mandy gave me a half-smile.

  “No,” I said. “I have nothing to admit.”

  “Are you sure?” Mandy teased.

  “Absolutely.”

  Mandy made a little 'go hither' gesture with her fingers. “Then go make peace. Maybe we’ll be able to save this city with one of the city’s most notorious occultists at our side. Reformed and redeemed.”

  “Yeah, because that's what I'm all about, redemption,” I grumbled.

  “Gary… ” Mandy trailed off.

  “Fine-fine, I’ll do it.” Walking over to Angel Eyes, I said, “Okay, after a long discussion with my wife, I've decided to let you into my gang.”

  “Your ability to take refuge in audacity never ceases to amaze me. This is how you're going to make peace?”

  “You know, you weren't this snarky when you were the Nightwalker,” I mentally said to Cloak.

  “I've got eighty years of dry observations to cut loose with.”

  “Trust me, though,” I said, prepping my upcoming speech in my head. “I know how to speak this guy’s language.”

  “Ancient Greek?”

  Angel Eyes reached up to his white plaster mask. Pulling it very off less than an inch, I caught a glimpse of the face underneath. He was beautiful, possibly the handsomest man on Earth. The male Guinevere if you will. I could just make out the tiny scar on his right cheek. It was only a slight blemish, almost unnoticeable. I suppose, though, to Adonis it was probably equivalent of having acid thrown in his face.

  “I'm thousands of years old, I've made love with goddesses, I know the secret arts of Circe and Medea, and you want to hire me to be part of your gang?” Angel Eyes asked. His tone had none of its earlier melodrama. It was clear he was serious.

  “That's about the size of it, yeah,” I answered, stretching my arms behind my back.

  “I will have to decline,” Angel Eyes replied, putting his mask back on. “It demeans the Chosen of Aphrodite to subordinate himself to mere mortals.”

  I clasped my hands behind my back in order to keep myself from strangling the pompous ass. I hadn’t been this insulted since high school.

  “I can't believe I'm doing this, but let me help. Angel Eyes is obsessed with his image above all else. Even more than his pseudo-romantic worldview, he's vain. You can use this to direct his actions.”

  “Thanks, Cloak. I forgive you for hiding your true identity for me.”

  “Hmm?” Angel Eyes said, obviously not able to hear Cloak like some of my companions.

  I paused for dramatic effect, ready to get to the meet of my argument. “You need to join me because you're in danger of falling off the radar.”

  “Excuse me?” Angel Eyes asked, offended.

  I gestured to myself. “I'm the new hotness. Everyone is talking about Merciless. The whole doomed tragic lover thing you've got is last Thursday. You're not even a vampire, so you can't attract the supernatural romance crowd. Bluntly, Angel Eyes, you're in danger of going stale.”

  Angel Eyes was the Chosen of Aphrodite and a demigod. While I wasn't exactly boned up on my Bulfinch’s Mythology, I knew enough about the Greek Gods to know they were all vain as hell. I figured a supervillain Olympian had to be even more so, especially one whose story has gone down in history as an example of self-love. Maybe playing to his ego wasn't the most original plan in the world but I suspected it would work.

  Angel Eyes looked at me for several seconds then lowered his gaze. “It bothers me I'm listening to you despite your transparent attempts at manipulation.”

  “It's because you know I'm right.” I waved my hands around as I talked for emphasis. “Like every actor and musician, you need regular re-invention. I mean, an opera house and a plaster mask? You're not doing yourself any favors by ripping off Andrew Lloyd Weber.”

  “Gaston Leroux wrote the Phantom of the Opera,” Angel Eyes corrected me. Looking at me for a moment, his shoulders slumped and he turned away. “I have noticed a drop in media attention relating to my crimes. What do you suggest?”

  I decided not to mention that was probably because of the apocalypse going on outside. “You need to think big.” I gestured to the ceiling. “Start by getting some cross-promotion. Do some team-ups and work outside of Falconcrest City. Utilize social-media marketing. You also need some new material.”

  “New material?” Angel Eyes asked, bewildered.

  “Take this whole, 'kidnapping super-people's wives to threaten them' thing. It's so old-fashioned it might as well be fossilized. I mean, what were you going to do for a grand finale? Tie Mandy to a set of train tracks? Angel Eyes, you need me.” I put my left hand over my heart.

  “Tying someone to train tracks is actually terrifying,” Angel Eyes said, looking thoughtful. “Clearly, you have never seen the aftereffects.”

  I made finger guns at his chest. “Trust me. Together, we will go places.”

  Cindy leaned over to Diabloman. “Is he arguing he should be his boss or his agent?”

  “Be quiet!” Diabloman snapped. “The Boss is working.”

  Cindy snorted and looked away.

  Angel Eyes was silent before answering. “I suppose I could agree to an alliance.”

  “That's the spirit.” I put my right arm over his shoulder. I was almost overpowered by the strength of his cologne and immense beauty at this close of a range.

  Angel Eyes glared at me. “No touching, please.”

  His words shook me out of my gaze and I pulled away as if electrified. “Not like I want to touch you anyway.” I cleaned my hand off on my cloak.

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Gary. Just because you're attracted to the most beautiful man in the world doesn't mean...”

  “Never speak of that again.”

  I noticed Angel Eyes was talking to me. “It is wrong for me to not receive the highest amount of attention in the city and you might be onto something I need to update myself. I will spare your life and allow you to have Mrs. Karkofsky.”

  “What was that? Allow?” Mandy said, looking over at him.

  Oooo! He was going to pay for that.

  An
gel Eyes didn’t seem to notice Mandy’s reaction. “Of course, now I'll have to break it off with my other partner.”

  “Other partner?” I asked.

  Angel Eyes looked to one side. “Yes, I may have sold your location to another supervillain in hopes of getting rid of you.”

  Mandy stared at him.

  “Who?” Then the answer hit me. “Oh crap.”

  Seconds later, as if God himself was trying to make sure the humor potential was maximized, the Ice Cream Man drove a gigantic brown, white, and pink steamroller through the wall. The undead supervillain had become even more hideous, his face having mostly rotted off by now.

  “Hey, Merciless! Glad you could make it!” The Ice Cream Man shouted, standing up on top of the steam-roller with another bazooka shaped like an ice cream cone.

  The Ice Cream Man was the former leader of the Malt Shop Gang and the third-most famous supervillain in the Midwest. He was dressed in a pink button-down shirt, white pants, suspenders, and a little paper hat. The Ice Cream Man also had cut off his lips and sharpened his teeth to shark-like levels. The Ice Cream Man would have looked terrifying even without the fact he was bloated from decay. A foul stench wafted from his hideously diseased undead frame even from across the hall. I’d killed him last month but he hadn’t stayed dead, being the first of Falconcrest City’s supervillains to rise. Apparently, he was still sore at me for the whole murdering him thing.

  Before I could react, he fired his bazooka and a shell of some kind landed at my feet. I managed to grab Mandy and turn intangible but it wasn't acidic or explosive like I expected. Instead, a weird Neapolitan-colored smoke filled the room. Despite being intangible, I felt the gas enter my lungs and blackness claimed me.

  Dammit.

  Chapter Six

  Floating in the Seas of Days Gone by

  I had a troubled mind.

  I know, what a shocking revelation.

  Seriously, though, I had always struggled with my inner demons. Even as a child, I'd been separated from others by my intelligence and a vague disquiet there was something terribly wrong with the universe. It wasn't my parents’ fault. They did everything in their power to make sure I'd grown up loved and safe but there are some things you're never prepared for.

 

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