Love for the Cold-Blooded. Or

by Alex Gabriel

  “Oh, sure. Like that’s going to happen.” Cap Cool gave Pat a flat, level stare that reminded him unpleasantly of his least favorite elementary school teacher. “Level with me, serpent spawn. You’re all having me on, aren’t you? The only alternative would be to believe that you’ve actually had sex with Silver Paladin, and there are a thousand and one things wrong with that picture. For one thing, how on earth would you have gotten the stick out of his ass?”

  Pat gaped at the man in shock. Had he really just said that? Captain Cool was supposed to be Silver Paladin’s ally! Why would he say such a thing about an ally? Sure, Nick could be awkward sometimes, especially when other human beings were around. But it actually worked for him, in his very own, totally bizarre way. Besides, Nick was brilliant and thoughtful and kind. He totally knew how to have fun and cut loose if you helped him along a bit. Plus he had that way of smiling at you self-consciously, almost shyly, and — just, basically, Nick was worth five dozen posers like Captain Cool any day of the week.

  Five dozen? Hah. More like ten, or twenty.

  “Not to mention you hardly seem like his type.” Cap Cool’s glance swept over Pat with open derision, lingering pointedly on his tousled blond curls, his defiant scowl, his bare, oiled chest and his tight leather pants. He didn’t need to actually call Pat a brainless pretty boy with loose morals; the superior smile twisting his mouth spoke clearly enough.

  Which, hello: Pat was the Slut Leader. Did Cap Cool really think that calling him a dumb slut was insulting? It would probably even have counted as a compliment if not for the dumb part, and that was so stupid Pat couldn’t take it seriously enough to be pissed off about it.

  How the dude talked about Nick, on the other hand? That, Pat had no problem being pissed off about. “Look sharp, Sluts!”

  The Sluts didn’t snap to attention; that would have been ridiculous, given that they weren’t soldiers, or commandos or whatever. They did the next best thing, though, all eyes immediately flying to Pat, alert and eager.

  Looking sharp indeed. Pat grinned evilly as he lifted both hands next to his face, fingers shaped like guns. He pointed them right at Cap Cool’s face and pulled the triggers, making a little ‘pow’ noise for effect. “Get him, boys.”

  It was beautiful. The Sluts sprang forward with no hesitation, as though they’d been waiting for the command — like a pack of bare-chested panthers slipping the leash (and was that a great image or what). Pat caught a glimpse of Tom’s face as he threw himself right on top of Cap. He looked way more pissed off than Pat felt, go figure.

  Pat would always treasure the memory of the dumbfounded look Cap Cool wore as he went down under a pile of well-shaped, muscular oiled limbs. Yes indeed, numbers and surprise could totally carry the day against vastly superior fighting prowess.

  By the time Pat reached the CoolCycle, it had crashed to its side under the combined weight of six irate Serpent Sluts. Cap Cool himself was no longer visible underneath his opponents, which was good, but left nothing for Pat to do. Although, wait: Part of Cea’s frozen form was still protruding from the pile of wrestling bodies. Pat could totally rescue her, and then gloat about it forever while she glowered and scowled.

  Pat grabbed his crystallized sister by the elbow and heaved her from the Cool melee. She was too heavy for him to carry, but fortunately there was always Plan B — which meant, in this case, half dragging, half rolling her over the floor, with pretty much every protruding part of her bumping over the ground. Supposedly the Hero’s Bane protected her, but there was no call for testing that, so Pat was careful, especially of her middle fingers.

  He’d nearly reached the spot he’d designated ‘safety’ (namely, the yarn cocoons holding Zen and her minion troops) when something blasted him in the small of his back.

  The impact lifted him clear off his feet, sending him flying. He entirely failed to tuck himself in and land properly. It all went so fast. By the time his mind began tracking again, he was lying in a dazed, bruised heap against the cavern wall.

  A quick inventory showed that he’d been lucky; apart from the bruises and a long scrape down one arm, he’d escaped unscathed.

  But… Cea. Where was Cea?

  There. There she was, tipped over on the ground back where he’d been hit. Pat scrambled up and rushed to her so quickly he almost brained himself falling over his own feet. He skidded to a halt right beside her crystal form instead, dreading what he would find when he turned her over. But — oh, thank all the gods, Cea was still whole; still cheerfully giving the world the bird, every appendage right where it should be.

  It took several seconds for the wash of white, ice-cold panic to seep through him and dissolve, leaving him feeling wrung out and oddly giddy with adrenaline.

  So Pat guessed he should have paid a little more attention to what Mom and Nick were doing. Not that he had any realistic chance of intervening, but prudence dictated —

  A volley of Serpent’s Teeth burst apart on the wall behind Pat, the sound like machine-gun fire. He barely managed to dive out of the way of the shrapnel. When he looked up, Nick was somersaulting crazily through the air while blasting small clusters of pursuing Teeth from the air one by one, controlled bursts of energy flaring from his outstretched palms.

  Pat had known Nick was good, of course. Everyone agreed Silver Paladin was one of the premier present-day heroes; maybe the premier one, period. Sure, Star Knight was more powerful and Nexus was scarier, but the average rock could outsmart Star Knight, and when your main claim to fame was that both your enemies and your allies were convinced you were spying on them, compiling files of secrets, habits and weaknesses… well. Suffice it to say that the line between greatness and psychopathy (which wasn’t actually thin at all) had definitely been crossed there.

  Silver Paladin, on the other hand. Silver Paladin was efficient and pragmatic without being a sociopath. He was smart as hell, and didn’t close his eyes to inconvenient truths; was willing to change both his mind and his approach when presented with compelling reasons. That was a rare thing, even (or especially) among people who considered themselves intelligent and open-minded.

  Not to mention the man had killer abs into the bargain. And a lovely, quirky smile, and a quietly offbeat sense of humor, and even hidden kinky depths. He was the real deal, for sure; what every little hoagie aspired to be. Or ought to, anyway.

  As Pat watched, Silver Paladin — Nick — twisted with impossible agility to evade a Razor Scale, and then rolled forward in mid-air like a swimmer turning underwater at the end of the pool. He began returning fire before he’d righted himself, both palms stretched towards his opponent. All through the maneuver, the bolts of power flying towards Serpentissima remained rock steady and dead on target.

  A sudden confused heat flooded Pat, drying out his mouth. Wow, this was so not the moment, but — man, that uniform looked as though it’d been designed to lovingly hug every line and curve. And that dive really showed off the clean v-shaped lines of Nick’s back, his strong shoulders and biceps…

  Memories rushed him, making him tingle all over. That back stretching warmly beneath Pat, the intoxicating scent of Nick in his nose as Pat bent down to taste the nape of his neck. Those shoulders bunching as Nick pushed into the rhythm Pat set for him. Those washboard abs tense and trembling beneath his touch…

  Pat swallowed and shook his head, willing himself to tear his eyes away from Silver Paladin banking in mid-air.

  A bolt of energy came from nowhere, smashing into the rock floor at Pat’s feet to sizzle out in a cloud reeking of ozone. It left a black streak scored deep into the rock.

  What the fuck, where had that even come from? A rebound, had to be —

  On the other side of the cavern, Serpentissima was laughing, rearing up in a nimbus of cold venom-fire, regal and terrible to behold.

  What was it Pat had been thinking, before he’d gotten distracted? Prudence, that was it — prudence and what it dictated. Which was (Pat was pretty sure) something l
ike getting out of the line of fire. Yeah, the prudent course of action was definitely to take his Sluts and duck into the protection of the corridor leading to the labs, where they could wait out the battle in safety.

  Whatever. Who was Pat trying to kid? He’d never been prudent. Prudent people never seemed to have much fun.

  A fresh volley of Serpent’s Teeth disintegrated in a spray of fragments, raining down to the cave floor like a miniature meteor shower. Nick remained hovering in place, defensive shield glowing.

  Pat hoped the cameras were getting all this. It was an awesome show; by rights, it should be making highlight reels for decades to come.

  Nothing happened for a minute as the combatants sized each other up. Cap Cool’s low cursing seemed loud in the silence. (The Sluts had tied him up with one of the many left-over mounds of Ariadne’s yarn, and he was not happy about it.)

  So far, Nick and Mom had been feeling each other out. From what Pat had observed, they seemed fairly evenly matched. They’d both been holding back on their more brutal attacks, but presumably those would match up more or less evenly, as well.

  Which basically meant there was no call for going there at all, right?

  Maybe Pat should suggest something to that effect. Or maybe that would be stupid, considering that neither of them were best pleased with him right this moment. On the other hand, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong, so…

  He was just about to open his mouth when Serpentissima preempted him.

  “Whatever else may be said about you, Silver Paladin…” The Snake Ascending lashed her tail, her massive form framed imposingly against a backdrop of broken ceiling and blue sky. “You are at least competent, when judged by today’s lax standards. I suppose it would not be fair to measure you against heroes like Vindicator.” On her shoulders, Marlene uncoiled enough to lift her head, peering critically in Silver Paladin’s direction. She probably couldn’t see him at all; boas had lousy eyesight. She was almost certainly scenting the air with her tongue, though, and when Serpentissima bared her fangs, Marlene did the same.

  Two drops of iridescent venom fell from Serpentissima’s fangs to the floor. Tiny, winding columns of greenish-white smoke rose up from where her venom ate into the stone.

  Whoa. The gift of venom from her own fangs? Pat gaped for a moment, disbelieving. Serpentissima had always been extremely sparing with that particular gesture — not many opponents were sufficiently worthy in her eyes.

  But the twin wisps of smoke were still rising, and his mother’s bared fangs glinted as her hair flared out like a serpent’s crest.

  A warm glow seized Pat’s chest, making him grin ridiculously. See, everything was working out, just as he’d always known it would! Or, okay, maybe not known exactly, but —

  “Thank you, Dread Serpent,” said Nick, after a noticeable pause. The I think went unsaid, but was clearly audible even so.

  Pat bounded out into the middle of the cavern. There was no way he could contain his burgeoning excitement any longer. “So you’re done fighting now, right? I mean, you should be. It’d be totally stupid if you kept on fighting for no reason, or because of some stupid challenger and superhero thing or whatever.” Two separate incinerating gazes hit him in the same instant, but he was used to not going up in flames by now and just waved his hands, a little wildly. “Come on, dudes. Okay, yeah, maybe I should have said something earlier, but I did try. Or I would have tried, if there’d been more time and stuff. I mean — it’s not — just. Come on.”

  Maybe he should have planned this speech ahead of time… a little, at least. It was fine, though. He was pretty sure he’d gotten the important things. Captured the essence, as it were.

  Serpentissima threw Pat a malevolent scarlet glare, but spared him no more than a moment before returning her attention to Nick. “My son will be stepping down as Slut Leader after today, Silver Paladin.”

  “What the hell?” Pat was so not stepping down as Slut Leader. He’d been doing a stellar job, if he did say so himself, and his Sluts were awesome. No way was he abandoning them now, when they’d just started to gel into a real team. “Why would you even say that? I’m a great Slut!”

  But his indignant protest went unheard; his mom talked right over him, as though he wasn’t even there. “This means there will be an attractive job opening for a young man with qualifications you certainly appear to possess. However, should you wish for a more challenging position, as I suspect you do, I am willing to rearrange my command structure. I can make room for another lieutenant, right at the top executive level.”

  It was impossible to catch much of Silver Paladin’s expression through his visor and the distortion of his force fields, but Pat didn’t need to see it in order to picture it perfectly. He hoped that his own interpretation of ‘complete befuddlement’ was slightly less reminiscent of a stunned trout.

  “To clarify,” Nick said at last. “Do I understand correctly that you are tempting me to defect to the side of evil by offering me a job?”

  “You needn’t make it sound like a paltry offer.” Serpentissima’s hair writhed testily. “But I suppose it was too much to hope for that you would be reasonable. You have, after all, chosen to take up with my son.”

  Wow, harsh. Pat threw his mom a look of hurt reproach, but she was pretending not to know he existed. Which was actually fair enough, he guessed, given his own low blow a bit earlier. Mom had never believed in taking a hit without handing it right back, with interest.

  “I am honored by your offer, Dread Serpent, but I’m afraid I must decline,” said Nick. He sounded hilariously stiff and formal. Pat wanted to tease him about it — wanted to catch his gaze and smirk obnoxiously, to get a half exasperated, half reluctantly amused roll of the eyes in return. Nick was still all wrapped up in Silver Paladin, though. Judging by the brief tilt of the visor, he only shot the shortest of glances Pat’s way, in any case. “However, should you wish to abandon your life of infamy and work to redress the many wrongs you have done, there might eventually be a place for you in the Hero Corps.”

  It was Pat’s turn to roll his eyes, even if only his Serpent Sluts were watching him do it. Hoagies, man. Like their lame little club was any kind of an option for a self-respecting challenger.

  Serpentissima stared at Nick. Then, she stopped and stared at Pat instead. Nick turned his visored face to stare at Pat for a moment, too, only to then turn back to Serpentissima. For his part, Pat had no idea whom to stare at, or what was going on with all the back and forth. It was like a totally ridiculous three-way tennis match played entirely with glances.

  “You will excuse me for a minute, Silver Paladin,” the Dread Serpent said after another moment. Hints of hisses sparked off the sharp edges of her tone.

  Pat had a fraction of a second to be surprised at the ongoing politeness in the face of extreme provocation — namely, being offered a place in the Corny Corps — before his mother stooped low to grab him and all but carry him over to the far side of the cavern, all the way past the darkly glowering Captain Cool and Pat’s crystallized and yarn-wrapped sisters.

  The Sluts were watching with rapt attention, as though this was the best show they had ever seen. It probably was. Pat was proud to see that except for Tom, who was guarding Cap Cool, each of his Sluts had chosen a good spot on the ground on which to recline in languid indolence, lazily stretching their toned bodies. None of them gleamed anymore, and most were slightly bedraggled and/or streaked with dust, soot, and various other non-glamorous adornments, but they were giving it the good old college try anyway.

  As Mom dragged him past, Pat twisted in her grip so he could grin at them and give them a thumbs up, showing them that their professionalism and dedication were appreciated.

  Stepping down as Slut Leader, yeah right. Not happening, no way, no how. He wasn’t Serpentissima’s son for nothing; he could be stubborn with the best. Olympic grade pig-headedness, that was Pat.

  Mom let him go when they were at the far side of the c
avern. Pat waited as she took in a deep breath and laced her fingers together in front of her chest. The familiar tingle of gathering energy made Pat sneeze; he was glad it took only a second or two before Serpentissima flicked her fingers outward. Her eyes flashed electric green as the Veil established itself around the two of them — a shimmering privacy curtain of arcane energy.

  “You should have told me what you were about, you chucklehead,” she hissed at him. The word ‘chucklehead’ sounded super weird when touched with the suggestion of malicious, slithering echoes.

  “I know, and I’m sorry.” Not true, not even a little bit, but Pat made his eyes wide and sad to make up for the transparent lie, blinking up at his mom soulfully. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I guess I was scared that you wouldn’t approve, and —”

  Her narrow look cut him off mid-justification. “Taking over the world requires planning and perfect coordination, Patrick. I can’t have minions throwing a mongoose into the nest whenever they take an idea into their heads. That is the quickest way to bite yourself in the foot.”

  Okay, slightly weird tangent (not to mention seriously mixed metaphors), but Pat wasn’t stupid. This was a time to agree meekly, not ask for clarification. He kept silent and nodded repentantly, blinking again for good measure.

  “Never act on your own authority again. You always come to me first to ask my permission. Always. Do you understand?”

  Pat nodded some more, all pliant and obedient. He didn’t really get the point of promising something so absurd — like he was ever actually going to ask his mom’s permission to date someone? or sleep with someone, or impersonate a hooker for them or whatever? —, but hey. You did what you had to do.

  There was a pause as Serpentissima regarded him with the weirdest expression — an odd blend of pride and regret. “You were right not to ask permission for this, of course. Had you come to me, I would not have approved… and it would have been wrong of me. But I am not only a challenger. Before that, I am a mother, and you are my littlest snakelet.” She sighed deeply, shaking her head. A bittersweet smile tugged at her mouth. “Sometimes I forget that you are no longer the wide-eyed hatchling who insisted I leave a light on at night so the hoagies wouldn’t get you. But I shall forget no longer, and so I say this: Excellent work, Patrick, my darling grown-up snakeling. I am proud of you, and I admire your gift for cunning and deception.”