“And what’s that?”
“Do better.”
He scowled at her. “Just like that? Easy for you to say.”
She shrugged. “To be clear, I don’t actually care, Andrew. You’ll never do much more as a super-villain than bounce in and out of jail. On the other hand, if you wanted to stop trying to do everything the easy way, you’ve got people who I’ll bet will help you out there. Just something to think about, you know, for the next few years in prison.”
She turned back to her notes, and if Major Maximum hadn’t warned her of the possibility, she wouldn’t have noticed the slight breeze, and she would have wound up unconscious from a blow to the back of the head.
It was, in the grand scheme of things, a strange choice of weapon, but she grabbed her open water bottle in one hand, and the cap in the other. She spun in her chair, swinging the bottle in a wide arc and leading with the spout. Then she slammed the cap on, screwed it down tightly and threw the bottle across the room.
The scream of pain came from way too many directions at once. Etherya felt the air pressure change around her as a huge mass of air flew quickly away from her.
OxyJen had reformed enough to be visible, but it was obviously a transitional state. The strain on her face was clear as she made her hands solid enough to open the bottle, while not fully solidifying. With a small amount of her mass caught inside the bottle, turning fully back into flesh was going to leave her partially impaled on plastic, or possibly with a chunk of her body missing and stuck inside the bottle.
“Do you have any idea how much that hurts?” OxyJen sat on the floor panting and lying in a puddle of water from Etherya’s bottle.
“Hold that thought.” Etherya touched a button on the computer in front of her. Then she stood and grabbed a pair of restraints from the wall.
“You think you can hold me with those?” OxyJen chuckled contemptuously. “I’m a ghost on the wind, little girl, and you are so many shades of dead. I can pull the air right out of your lungs if I want to, and right now, I really want to.”
Etherya winced. “Ooh. You might want to consider a plan B.”
It had taken a moment for OxyJen to recover, but she seemed to have her fighting spirit back as she made it to her feet. “I’m going to enjoy this a little too much.”
Then nothing happened.
“You were saying?” Etherya stepped forward, restraints held open to make the takedown easier. “We thought you might be dumb enough to try to break your pal out, so we set up a power dampener for the whole detention room, not just the individual cells. Bit of a power drain, but—”
She’d forgotten that OxyJen was the smart one. The detention room was what held her powers in check, so it made perfect sense that the villain would make a mad dash for the door. Etherya was a petite woman, and OxyJen had several inches and more than a few pounds on her. This, of course meant that Etherya standing between her and the door wasn’t all that much of an obstacle.
The restraints fell out of Etherya’s hand and she let a shout of pain escape as she hit the floor. The shoulder block had plowed right through her, and she had bitten the inside of her cheek, meaning there was a taste of blood in her mouth.
She rolled over to get to her feet. Chasing OxyJen was not a winning proposition, but if she could stop the woman from getting out of the door somehow…
“Hang on a second.”
Etherya looked up just in time to roll with the kick aimed for her midsection. It helped, but not enough. She wasn’t as lucky with avoiding the second kick.
“If there’s a power dampener, then you can’t do that walk-through-walls bit. Which means you’ll feel it when I do this!”
Etherya managed to block the next kick, but it was meeting force on force, and the block hurt her almost as much as the kick would have.
“Jen, just get me out of here!”
OxyJen didn’t even spare a glance at Gravel. “Oh, no. I’m getting my hands dirty with this little pipsqueak.”
She shot out another kick, but this time it was so telegraphed it didn’t stand a chance of hitting anything. Etherya dodged backwards and then kicked out with both her legs. She caught her opponent in the knee and heard an especially satisfying snap.
OxyJen screamed, briefly. As she dropped onto her side, Etherya was already on her, hammering the larger woman’s head onto the floor three times in quick succession.
“For the record,” Etherya said to her dazed opponent between heavy breaths of exertion, “my powers are working just fine.” To prove her point, she plunged her hand through the side of OxyJen’s head and flicked her on the opposite earlobe. Then she rolled the larger woman onto her stomach, pinning her arms behind her back. “I didn’t ghost because I didn’t want you to get past me to the door. If you’d kept going, you’d be free now. So, do you want to start crawling into your cell, or do I knock you out and drag you?”
OxyJen chose that moment to pass out. Years later, when Gravel had reformed and joined the team, he asked her about the next few minutes as she dragged the larger woman into a cell. Had she really been muttering about cations and anions on the way?
✽✽✽
“I hate being sidelined.”
“Yes. Also, water remains wet, and the earth continues to orbit the sun.” Wulfric replied. “And it is also still your turn.”
Molly shot him the stink-eye, but he remained stoically unmoved. She moved her gaze to the wooden blocks in front of her. The game gave bonus points if she could get six pieces of either all the same shape or color in a row. The best she could manage was five, and she couldn’t even score in multiple directions at once. She placed the red and blue diamond on the row Fathi had started a few turns ago.
“Five points.” She said with obvious disappointment as she reached into the bag and pulled out replacement tiles.
Lydia almost immediately lifted three blocks and set them down. One of them, of course, was the green diamond, completing the set Molly had just placed. She also managed to attach her pieces onto the green clover a few spaces over.
“I think that’s seventeen?”
Fathi nodded. It was a little worse that she was kicking their butts so soundly while she still wasn’t entirely sure how the scoring worked.
“Does your mother have a history of being a shark, liebchen?”
“I think I’ve just had some lucky draws from the bag.”
There was some luck in the game to be sure, but lucky draws didn’t account for her being more than thirty points ahead of the rest of them.
Still, losing to her mother this terribly was at least better than arguing with her. Molly had responded to her mother’s texts throughout the day, but her one or two word replies had not helped to ease Lydia’s worries. She’d been informed of this in no small detail. As it was too late in the evening to go out and get away from the argument, Molly had to participate. In response to her mother’s insistence that things were too dangerous in Capetown, Molly had flatly refused to leave. She was certain that if she used the phrase “I am a grown woman” one more time, she was going to be legally required to tattoo it on her forehead.
The game had been a blessing when Fathi had suggested it. Both he and Wulfric were obviously tired of watching Molly and Lydia squabble. Fathi had set down three or four game boxes — with a shade more force than necessary — and managed to mumble a request to play through his not-quite-healed jaw.
Gathering around the game table had forced an artificial truce. Wulfric asked Molly how her day had gone, which had finally given her a chance to tell everyone what she’d been up to with Grim and Hustle and the info she’d shared with Sean. Fathi was still technically a suspect, so she couldn’t share information about the trap which had been set for The Aerialist. When Lydia heard Molly was officially off the case, she hadn't tried to conceal her relief.
“I’m sure it’s just beginner’s luck,” Lydia said as she reached for more blocks. “Oh my, there’s only a couple of blocks left.”
“That simply means we don’t replenish the pieces after play. The first one to use up all their tiles will end the game.” Wulfric smiled at her. “And then we can count up the points and see just how badly you’ve crushed us.”
“I’m sure you’re just letting me win.”
Fathi closed his eyes in discomfort. He was a competitive player, and Molly suspected he’d just tried to clench his teeth after that response.
Predictably, Lydia ended the game by playing her last piece. She’d beaten Fathi and Wulfric by a healthy margin. Molly’s score was downright embarrassing.
“Well, I suppose that’s how you win, right? Getting out while you still can.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Subtle, Mom.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but the game is over, and I’m not going to bite my tongue any longer.”
“You’re clearly not sorry, Mom.”
Lydia ignored her. “You need to come back to the city.”
“That is not happening, especially not now.”
“What do you mean not now? Your job as a consultant is over. You said so yourself. So what on earth is preventing you from getting out of this dangerous town?”
Her usual M.O. with her mother was to meet Lydia’s impassioned frustration with maddening calm. Just now, though, Molly didn’t have the patience for that. Instead, she snapped.
“Because I just figured out today that I’m probably in love with Sean!”
The room was completely silent for a good twenty seconds.
“You…?” Lydia couldn’t finish the sentence.
Molly let out a sigh. “On the way home today, I was thinking that for the first time in years, I might be able to talk to my mom about a guy I’m seeing. I was looking forward to it. But the moment I walked into the door, you started tearing into me. So this is the way I told you.”
“Molly—”
“It probably doesn’t matter. Nothing’s changed. I’m still going to keep making the same decisions which are my decisions to make. You’re going to keep on disapproving of those decisions. So I guess it’s really just not that important.”
Lydia stood up abruptly and put her arms around her daughter. “Don’t ever say that. Of course it’s important.” She broke off to look at Molly. “He seems like a good man.”
Molly nearly choked on the words, she was just so happy to get them out. “He’s the best.”
“Of course he is. One of my daughters wouldn’t love him if he weren’t.”
Molly rose and she and her mother shared a good long hug.
“You two can stop smiling now.” She tried to give Wulfric and Fathi a severe look, but it was completely ineffective.
“On the contrary, liebchen, when nine-hundred-year-old men decide to really smile, there are few forces on earth that will make them stop.”
✽✽✽
Molly found herself out of bed before seven the next morning. She’d had an early night for once, and she was surprisingly rested. Doing her best to make as little noise as possible, she crept down the stairs. She was used to living alone, and a little break from all the company was warranted. She set a pot of coffee to brew, leaned against the kitchen counter, and took a moment to enjoy the quiet.
Her houseguests had been furnishing breakfast the past several days. As the hostess, she really ought to be the one doing that. Molly considered the problem. Her usual breakfast staples, cold pizza, leftover Chinese food, and canned spaghetti, were not available. Could she maybe scrape up some pancakes? Hadn’t she seen some pancake mix somewhere?
It was a challenge digging through her cupboards without making too much noise. Molly weighed the box in her hand, trying to imagine the worst-case scenario. She nearly cried out when her doorbell rang.
Her first thought was Sean. He often kept odd hours, but he’d normally call or text her to let her know he was on his way this early. She looked at her phone on the way to the door, but there were no notifications.
“Bri? What is all this?”
Bri sounded exhausted. “I saw your light on. I was up all night stress baking, and Mom said I needed to get this all out of the house. You want some?”
“I’ll always accept pastries, especially when I have guests, but what do you mean, stress baking?”
“It’s not important. I gotta go catch the bus, but here, take these two bags. I’ll hand out the rest at school.”
“Bri, are you all right?”
“Just tired. Of a bunch of stuff.”
Molly frowned. “Why don’t you come over for a martial arts lesson tonight? I should have the evening free, and we can talk if you want.”
Bri shook her head. “Can’t. I made such a mess in the kitchen that Mom grounded me. I’m not allowed to go anywhere but school and work for the rest of the month. Thanks though.”
She disappeared in a cloud of teenage angst. Molly watched the retreating backpack and marveled at the sheer weight of the two shopping bags in her hands. Bri’s stress evidently translated into extremely rich food, and Molly promised herself that she’d call the girl’s mother later in the day to see if she could offer any assistance.
Fathi and Lydia appeared from downstairs and upstairs respectively. They wordlessly asked who had rung the doorbell at such an early hour. In response, Molly held up the bags.
“It looks like we had breakfast delivered this morning.”
✽✽✽
“I’m not going to make you two come in. There’s not really anything for you in La Belle Dame. Go get your shopping done, and then you can swing by and say hello.”
The two men smiled with infinite patience. They were both nine-hundred years old. A shopping trip in a small town couldn’t possibly be all that interesting to them. Molly had been surprised they wanted to come at all until they mentioned the little hobby shop in town. Fathi occasionally dabbled in watercolors, while Wulfric preferred woodcarving. They both hoped to pick up some supplies to give themselves something to do.
Between them, they had polished off one of the disposable trays full of cheese danish. When the second tray was half gone, they decided they needed to get out of the house. On the way into town, Molly passed by a small crowd of people, and realized it was Election Day. Her guests didn’t mind at all, and she was in and out of the ballot within a few minutes. The only vote she really cared about was the one against whoever would be chosen as Matt Nelson’s successor.
Before they made it to La Belle Dame. Molly had heard part of a news brief. The word about the police keeping Matt Nelson’s laptop had gotten out.
Molly smiled at Heather as she walked in. Two older ladies were on their way out with shopping bags mostly full. For a weekday morning in a small town, this was a pretty good day for Heather’s shop.
“What’s all this?”
“Carbohydrate goodness.” Molly set the bag on Heather’s counter.
After a moment of digging, Heather grinned. “Blondies. My favorite.”
“Duly noted.” Tony Archer came out from Heather’s utility room with a mischievous smile and a long cardboard box. His hair was a dirty blond.
Heather giggled, and Molly felt her own smile rise to meet theirs. “Mom, this is Heather, my best friend. And that’s Tony, he’s one of my former students.”
“And my current boy-toy.”
Tony met Heather’s wink with a wolfish grin. He didn’t seem to mind the title. A slight change came over his face, and his nostrils flared.
“Oh, man, is that from Bri? That smells like her work.”
“It is,” Molly replied. “Is she okay? She said this was stress baking.”
Tony shrugged. “She’s mad at me, but she’ll get over it.”
“Can you keep her upset?” Heather said around a big bite of butterscotch blondie. “It might keep her baking like this.”
Tony chuckled. He balanced the long box on top of one of Heather’s dress racks. “Her stress baking is pretty good, but I like it better when she feels like experimenting. I’m
going to grab the ladder.”
“Thanks, Anthony. Do you need help?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Molly cocked her head. “Anthony? I never heard you go by that name before.”
He shrugged. “Most people here know me as Tony, but in the service I started going by Anthony.”
“Is that what you’d prefer? I can start using that name, though it’ll be a little weird for me at first.”
Heather bit her lip, and Molly could fill in the blanks about the joke she wasn’t telling regarding calling out Anthony’s name.
“Either way is fine, Ms. Martin.” He smiled and headed back toward the utility closet.
“Ms. Martin?” Heather shook her head. “That one is going to have to change really soon.”
“I have former students older than Molly who still call me Mrs. Martin.” Molly’s mother took Heather’s hand. “Lydia will be fine for you, dear. The clothes you sent over are lovely. Would you mind ringing them up for me while I do some browsing?”
Heather shook her head. “The guy who came by to pick them up saved me a couple-hundred dollars in doctor’s bills. By all means, feel free to browse, but I’m not charging you for the first set of clothes.”
“That’s very kind of you.” Lydia patted her hand then moved toward a rack of dresses.
Tony — Anthony, Molly reminded herself — reappeared with the ladder. He set it up near the box he’d brought out, then pulled a tube-style light bulb from it.
“Am I in your way?” Lydia asked.
Anthony looked up at the light above him, then at where Lydia was standing. “I think you’re fine.” He tested the ladder for stability and frowned.
“It’s a little rickety,” Heather confirmed. “Maybe we should wait until I can get out and buy a new ladder.”
Anthony considered the problem. “A new ladder is probably a good idea, but this will do for now.”
“Maybe I should be the one to change the bulb. You’re not covered by my insurance, and you’re not under workman’s comp since you won’t let me pay you.”
Ex-Cape | Book 2 | Ex-Cape From A Small Town Page 26