Forging Hephaestus (Villains' Code Book 1)

by Drew Hayes

  “I didn’t want the damn crooks to scatter,” Blunderbuss defended. “Hunting them down would have thrown off the timetable. This got them all to hole up in one spot.”

  “Maybe so, but you also flung debris and what looks like brake fluid all over the ground.” Roto leaned in closer, examining one of the small still-steaming puddles of goop. “I mean, it can’t be oil, that much is obvious, but I’ve never seen brake fluid this color, either. Car must have really been in need of a tune-up.”

  “Wait a damn minute...” Blunderbuss hunkered down to his knees, carefully inspecting the remaining goop on the ground.

  “And that, my dear rookies, is our cue to leave,” Pod Person announced. “Between the fact that cops and reporters are en route and ole Blundy preparing to put two and two together, we’re best getting while the getting is good.”

  “I’ll keep a barrier woven over us until we’re out of sight,” Arcanicus said. “Doing one on the fly means I won’t be good for much else, but I should be able to manage for at least a block.” With that, he lowered his head, pressed his hands together, and began to mutter softly under his breath.

  Pod Person took charge, guiding Arcanicus by the shoulders and motioning for the apprentices to follow along. Together they walked as quietly as they could away from the scene, not pausing or stopping until they were several blocks away from the action, at which point Arcanicus let his spell end. They proceeded to head back to downtown, protected now only by the pendants around their necks. It seemed things had gone their way, in the end. A good demonstration of dealing with capes, a little knowledge of how to work in the field, and no one had gotten seen or noticed. They’d made it through their first night without any apparent negative effects whatsoever.

  * * *

  Apollo watched as the group walked through the streets, his golden glowing eyes easily piercing the pathetic spells of a tired mage like Arcanicus. He stood perched atop a nearby building, careful to stay unseen by both the villains and his fellow capes. Medley was a powerful meta with ample potential and while he wanted to make sure the debut went just as they’d planned, Apollo couldn’t have the others know he was checking up on them. That would be bad for morale and worse for trust.

  “Going to stop them?” Lady Shade stood near him, her cloak of endless shadows concealing his constant glow. It wasn’t often that Apollo needed to do things covertly, but when the occasion arose, she was the one he trusted to make it happen. It certainly didn’t hurt that her powers made getting around much easier and that she trusted him enough to not question his orders.

  “Certainly not,” Apollo said, grabbing his chest as if wounded. “For one thing, we’ve got no proof they had anything to do with tonight’s robbery; that is to say, we’ve got nothing a capable lawyer couldn’t turn into reasonable doubt, anyway. Besides, the last thing I want to do is split the media’s focus. Tonight is about Medley and his spectacular debut, not about us bringing in bystanders with magical equipment for questioning. He caught his criminals red-handed; the whole thing tied up so nicely I may as well have put a bow on it for him. More arrests complicate things, and the debut needs to be simple.”

  “If you say so, but you sure were watching them closely for someone you don’t want to bust.” Lady Shade glanced over the edge of the building. Unlike Apollo, she could only make out six distinct shapes amid the crew of escaping villains. Details were lost to her; even their relative size and shape were hard to pin down. Despite both having powers that were magical in origin, it was clear she and Apollo resided in entirely different leagues.

  “Perhaps you can’t tell, but of the six down there, four are people I’ve never seen before.” That wasn’t entirely true, actually. One of them, the woman with the long brown hair, did seem familiar, but Apollo couldn’t figure out where he might know her from. He knew she’d never been hauled in for villainy, though; that would have stuck in his mind. “I’m committing their faces to memory, making sure I’ll be properly prepared for when they don their masks and come mucking about in our nice, orderly world.”

  “Newbies, huh? Guess that confluence gave their guild a few fresh recruits as well.” Lady Shade squinted, the pale skin around her mousy eyes bunching up as she tried to make out more details in the vague shapes below. “But doesn’t it make more sense to try and pop them now before they’re skilled enough to actually be a problem? You could at least zip down and put a healthy dose of fear into them.”

  Apollo reached out and put an arm around Lady Shade, the sort of friendly gesture she’d long ago learned was meant to be reassuring, not romantic. So far as she knew, Apollo didn’t have time for romance in his life. All he saw was the AHC and his place in it.

  “That, my friend, would be doing a disservice to our own new recruits. Do you know what superheroes need, above all else? What gives us purpose, reminds the people that we matter, ensures that we will always have a place in this world?”

  “Villains,” Lady Shade replied. “We have to have criminals and metas to fight, otherwise why would we be needed?”

  “Precisely,” Apollo said. “They are evil, certainly, but a necessary evil. And when our new group of heroic champions is ready to go into the world, they will need villains to fight. The older, more experienced members of that guild are too wily and too dangerous to be their prey, but the new ones... now, they’re the sort that might just make some mistakes. I don’t want to stop them tonight; there’s no point in picking a fruit before it’s ripe. Better to wait until there’s a need to take them.”

  He watched the group move through his street, golden eyes gleaming in spite of Lady Shade’s efforts to dim them.

  “Even villains can have their uses, from time to time.”

  Chapter 43

  By the time Friday morning rolled around, Tori was equal parts grateful to Ivan for getting her the week off and mutinous at the thought of having to deal with work and training when the next week started.

  Thus far, the week had gone well, or at least less chaotically than their first night out. Tuesday, Arcanicus had sent them off into town with a list of various items they had to retrieve, the only condition being that they turned over their wallets first. Some had turned to shoplifting to complete the list; others used charm to get their way. For her part, Tori simply found a shipping warehouse that had everything she needed, snuck in as living fire, then made her way out under the cover of darkness.

  Wednesday was another tagalong event, this time in Greenland, where they watched a bank get expertly robbed. Double Down and Slipshod were masterful to watch. They even slipped in counterfeit money in place of what they took, long delaying anyone’s realization that a theft had even occurred. It was strange to see the scale the guild worked on, from low-level capers like the one Pod Person had planned to elaborate international heists that brought in millions of dollars. It really was a place where everyone worked at their own comfort level so long as they stuck to the code.

  Thursday had left her the most drained since it entailed a whole evening walking into various locations to try and spot undercover cops, or worse, capes. The endless rotations of clubs, bars, and street corners coupled with the fact that she’d tied with Warren for fewest undercover officers noticed meant Tori had to drag herself through most of Friday’s work on her meta-suit.

  Much as she might have wanted to take a break, she knew there wouldn’t be any chance to work on it through the weekend since Ivan’s kids would be coming over again. That meant more combat training at the guild, which barely gave her enough free time to eat, let alone solder delicate circuitry in place. Things were going well, though; she had her fingers crossed that by this time next week, she might just have a functioning prototype. There would be improvements to make, there always were, but for the moment, she just wanted something that worked. Whatever job they decided to pull off, Tori would feel a lot better going into it with a full suit of tech strapped to her body.

  It was past one in the afternoon when she finally
emerged from the basement, bleary-eyed and with a crick in her back from so many hours spent bent over the table. To her surprise, there was a plate of sandwiches sitting out, carefully covered with saran wrap. Ivan generally held to the belief that she could eat during mealtimes or prepare food herself, which made the gesture nice but suspicious.

  “You look like hell.” His voice caught her by surprise, and she spun to find him sitting in a recliner, a thick book open in his hands. He cocked an eyebrow at her reaction, and Tori fought down the urge to blush.

  “Yeah, you look like... I don’t know... an old guy who isn’t old enough for as old as he... fuck, I’ve got nothing.” She went to the fridge and reached for a beer, then thought better of it and grabbed a soda. There was still a lot of daylight to get through, not to mention night training once the sun set. She was better served by a caffeine boost than by alcohol, even if it was in small amounts.

  “I think you should take a nap after lunch,” Ivan said once she returned to the kitchen table. Tori fumbled with the saran wrap, needing three tries to get to her sandwiches.

  She took a large bite of the nearest sandwich she could grab. “It’d be nice,” she agreed. “But I’ve got too much work to do. I’ll fuel up on coffee and energy drinks before we train tonight, don’t worry.”

  “Perhaps you misunderstand. I was not saying that as Ivan your caretaker. I was saying it as Pseudonym, your teacher.”

  Tori swallowed her bite of sandwich hard, feeling it move through her throat like a small brick. Ivan didn’t play the apprentice card too often; he liked to let her make her own mistakes as she learned. If he was throwing it down now, it meant things were either about to get very serious or he was sincerely worried about her safety.

  “Do I need the sleep that bad?”

  “You’ll be far better served if you have your wits about you this evening,” Ivan replied, turning his attention back to his book. “And caffeine is a poor substitute for genuine awareness. Spend your afternoon as you wish, this is just my opinion on the matter.”

  Both of them knew his opinion was usually more than just that, at least when he cared enough to share it. Tori wolfed down the rest of her lunch, the hunger she’d been ignoring all morning finally making itself known, and guzzled down her soda. Once that was done, she considered heading back to the lab for a few more minutes, just to finish up what she’d been working on. But before the idea could take root, Tori recognized it for the slippery slope it was. As soon as she went in there, time would lose all meaning, and before she knew it, the hour to head off to the guild would have arrived. Granted, that had been her plan until a few minutes ago, but she decided to heed Ivan’s advice instead.

  Heading up to her garage apartment, Tori squeezed in a quick shower, dressed in some comfortable pajamas, and laid down in her bed. She had a book in hand, anticipating needing a little winding down time before her brain would allow her the sweet release of slumber. This proved to be unnecessary. No more than a minute after her head hit the pillow, Tori Rivas was fast asleep and softly snoring.

  Hours later, when a knock on the door from Ivan startled her awake, she would swear she had just closed her eyes seconds prior, which only went to show how right he’d been about her need for sleep. Especially with the long night she had ahead of her.

  * * *

  “I seriously hate you for dragging me into this,” Johnny said, hefting a case of mid-range beer higher in his arms. It was clearly weighing him down, which was all the more embarrassing when contrasted with the fact that Thuggernaut was carrying an entire poker table over his head. Even Arachno Bro was easily carting around a dozen shopping bags on his long, furry arms.

  “Hate all you want, just don’t jostle the beer,” Thuggernaut ordered. He kept walking at the same pace, refusing to let Johnny’s whining slow them down. “And don’t sneak any either, they’re for tonight.”

  “Which I maintain is something the male members of the council should be doing, since all the women are the ones putting together the girls’ night.” Johnny adjusted his grip on the beer once more, trying to keep the cardboard from cutting into his palms. While the villain known as Johnny Three Dicks had plenty of talents, enhanced strength wasn’t one of them, nor were invulnerable palms.

  “Great idea,” Arachno Bro said, his words coming out slightly slurred due to the mandibles protruding from his mouth. “We’ll just get Pseudonym, who only comes for required guild matters, Balaam, who’s even an asshole to his own apprentice, and Doctor Mechaniacal, the man burdened with running a Fortune 500 Company and a guild of criminals, to spend their Friday night hanging out with a pair of apprentices.”

  “I never said it would be easy,” Johnny mumbled halfheartedly.

  “Doctor Mechaniacal was nice enough to give us access to one of the fancier lounges and let us expense all the refreshments,” Thuggernaut reminded them. “If we want to welcome the guys in, it’s up to us to put in the actual work.”

  “I think Pod Person and Arcanicus might stop by too.” Arachno Bro stepped carefully to the side as Thuggernaut navigated through a doorway with his table, then let Johnny putter past. “Said they wanted to see the rookies off the clock.”

  “Or they heard we’d have free booze,” Johnny pointed out, “which is how you baited me into this, so I suppose I can’t give them too much grief. Though I should point out that they aren’t here helping us haul the supplies.”

  “No, they actually helped out with the training,” Thuggernaut said. They arrived outside of a wide metal door none of them had been through before. Reaching over, Thuggernaut pressed his thumb to a digital pad adjacent to the handle. A small beep could be heard and the door swung open. Carefully maneuvering his table, Thuggernaut walked up the red-carpeted stairs into a sweeping room.

  “Damn.” Johnny let out a soft whistle as he surveyed their surroundings. “This almost makes me want to earn enough to make it to the Executive level. I didn’t even know we had spots like this.” The room was covered in the same lush red carpet that swathed the stairs. Several recliners and a large couch were scattered around, far nicer than the ones in the general lounges. A bar staffed by a pair of robotic butlers occupied the far corner of the room. Televisions were dotted about, as were tablets for those who wanted to surf the web while hanging out.

  “This is nothing,” Arachno Bro told him. “Once I robbed a gold reserve and actually made it to the guild’s top ten percent of earners. You should see the Executive break rooms. More robots, free everything. It’s nuts. I spent so much time enjoying the facilities that I forgot to pull any jobs, and after a month it was back to the common quarters.”

  Thuggernaut set the table down in a clear spot near the center of the room. He was only guessing, but he suspected that Doctor Mechaniacal had specifically altered the room’s layout just for their use; otherwise, the arrangement of furniture didn’t make much sense. “I think it’s smart of Doctor Mechaniacal to let us use this space. Good chance to show the kids what they can get, if they put in the work.”

  “Ugh, that word.” Johnny shivered, shaking his shoulders so hard that the lapels of his suit began to flap. “If I wanted to work I’d have stuck to a normal life, thank you very much. I prefer to do things that are fun, especially if they result in me taking home a significant amount of someone else’s money.”

  “Right, so Johnny doesn’t get to talk tonight,” Arachno Bro suggested.

  “I’ve known him for over a decade; if you can find a way to shut him up, I’ll pay you half my earnings for the next six months,” Thuggernaut offered.

  Johnny’s ears perked up visibly. “If that deal goes to anyone in the room, I think we might be able to make an arrangement.”

  “Not happening, you’d just find some loophole to weasel through.” Thuggernaut adjusted the table once then grabbed a few of the recliners and began setting them up around it. As he worked, Arachno Bro and Johnny took their supplies to the bar, where the robots immediately began putting things
away. By the time they finished watching the MMA fight at the Ridge City Arena and Civics Center, everything would be properly chilled or heated as serving demanded. They’d come back to play cards with a big meal waiting for them.

  If pushed, Thuggernaut might have admitted the festivities were a little trite for his sensibilities—he much preferred the opera to physical combat, seeing as he got enough of that in his line of work. Dealing with two young men, however, meant playing the odds and picking things that were most likely to be at least a little fun to all involved. Violence and drinking were solid bets for their age group, especially when one factored in that they were the type of people to join a guild of villains. Regardless, the point of the evening wasn’t the activities themselves; it was the bonding that would occur during them. Now that the rookies were this far along, it would be beneficial to give them some roots and connections beyond just their teachers. The more people they knew, the better off they’d be if they made it to full membership.

  Thuggernaut tried not to think about that “if” as he continued to set things up. The best he could do was prepare his own apprentice and hope that when the time came, she proved herself worthy. Plus, if he started worrying now, he’d inevitably let his mind begin to ponder exactly what Xelas had in store for the women. And if he started down that path, he’d be a useless bundle of nerves all night long.

  * * *

  “There’s my guy!” Apollo walked into the gym, breezing past the half-dozen other rookies who were giving Ren a wide berth as he used the bench press. Donald was standing over him, technically a spotter though they both knew anything Ren couldn’t lift was well beyond his league. While Donald wasn’t really the gym type, Ren was constantly exercising, and since he was the only friend Donald had made in the AHC, he’d decided to try and share the interest. It helped that a week of working in an office full of people that were wary of him had left Donald with the uncharacteristic desire to burn off some frustration.