Reborn (Supervillain Rehabilitation Project Book 3)

by H. L. Burke

  Chapter Six

  Three Months Later

  Prism eyed the door to the banquet hall where there were presumably chairs. She imagined sitting down and sliding out of her high heels. Hopefully the check-in line would move a little faster soon.

  She swayed on her feet. Fade, somehow managing to look both devastatingly dashing and visibly uncomfortable in his suit and tie, slipped his arm around hers.

  “You hanging in there?” he murmured.

  “I’ll be fine. Just thinking how ironic it is that I’ve waited for years to be high enough in the DOSA pecking order to be invited to one of these formal events, and it has to happen ... now.” She patted her bowling ball stomach, awkwardly draped in baby blue, sequin-embellished chiffon. “Maternity formal wear is not as cute on me as it looks on the models, high heels are evil, and I can’t even drink to take the edge off.”

  “I think you are way cuter than any of those models.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “I don’t know why I accepted the invitation. Glint won’t even notice that I’m here. He’s gotten a little better about dismissing me since what happened with Alma last year, but tonight? With everyone patting him on the back and making speeches about how natural a choice he is to be our newest committee member?” She wrinkled her nose. “He’s going to be insufferable, and I’m sure his head will swell so big we’ll have to scrape it off the ceiling at the end of the night.”

  Fade gave a barking laugh that drew the attention of everyone within earshot. He coughed and rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand.

  The doorman finished with the group at the front of the line, and everyone moved forward again. Finally Prism and Fade reached the station.

  Prism pulled their invitations out of her purse and presented them to the doorman.

  He glanced at them, consulted his guestbook, then handed her a pair of laminated badges. “These have your seating assignments. Cocktails and appetizers are being served, followed by dinner, then the ceremony itself.”

  “Thank you.” Prism passed Fade one of the cards and stuck the other into her clutch purse. They made their way into the crowded banquet hall. Dozens of DOSA and government types mingled throughout, weaving between tables, chatting in small bunches, and sipping Champagne.

  “I can ask if they have anything pregnancy safe.” Fade nodded towards a waiter with a tray of Champagne flutes.

  “Maybe later. Right now I just need to sit down,” she whimpered.

  He checked the card then compared it to a board beside the door that had a color coded seating chart. “I think we’re supposed to be this way.” He took her hand and guided her through the crowd.

  “Hey, look, it’s the Powells!” They stopped and turned to see a dark haired woman flagging them down. Her sleek red dress had an ankle-length skirt but slits all the way up the thighs, exposing toned, slender legs—probably chosen so the speed sable could use her abilities if the need arose. She had also spurned high heels for a pair of shiny but practical flats.

  “Fleet, good to see you.” Prism put out her hand in greeting as Fleet approached. “Big night, huh?”

  “Oh yeah, but Glint deserves his moment in the spotlight. He’s spent the last several weeks moving to DC, getting acclimated to the committee, all that boring stuff.” Fleet tossed her hair. “He’s a good guy. I’ll miss working with him. Of course, with him gone, the LA team is all mine, so I can’t say I’ll cry too hard about it.” She winked.

  “Congratulations. He couldn’t leave LA in better hands.” Prism shook Fleet’s hand.

  “So how’s your new guy working out?” Fleet asked. “You don’t plan to marry him too, do you?” She winked again, this time at Fade.

  From her twitching eyelids and the fact that her voice was already well above inside levels, Prism had to suspect Fleet had been going hard on the complimentary Champagne.

  “No, I only reserve that for the special villains.” Prism laughed uncomfortably. “Wildfyre is acclimating, though. Training has been going well, and I’m hoping by the end of the month he’ll be able to run full missions with us. It’s actually been really quiet in our area. Which I’m glad for.” She rested her hand on her very full stomach. “Maternity leave can’t come soon enough.”

  “Man, I don’t know if I could give it up, even for a short while, for kids.” Fleet made a face. “I need the action, you know?” Her eyelashes slapped against her cheek in yet another wink.

  “That’s never really why I was in the game,” Prism said.

  “Prism’s an idealist. She actually wants to make the world a better place. Crazy, huh?” Fade gave an exaggerated wink right back at Fleet.

  Prism bit back a laugh.

  “Oh, right, yeah, we all do that,” Fleet said dismissively. A waiter passed by with another tray of Champagne. Fleet’s eyes lit up. “Scoose me. Got to see a man about a drink. Oh, waiter!” She zipped away, her skirt flapping behind her as if she were wearing a cape.

  “Man, she’s different when she’s tipsy,” Prism said.

  “I kind of like her better this way.” Fade winked at Prism.

  She playfully batted at his arm. “Come on. My feet hurt.”

  “We’re almost there. Do you want me to carry you?”

  “As tempting as that is, I think I’ll survive without it.” Prism tried to think about anything other than the blister forming on her heel.

  “Prism! Fade!” a voice called out.

  Prism turned. A young girl with dark hair done up in french braids with rhinestone clips waved at her from a nearby table. She wore a black velvet sheath dress, plain but elegant, though she still stood out as being easily a decade younger than the next oldest person in the room.

  “Alma!” Delight flooded Prism. She hadn’t seen the former SVR recruit in far too long.

  She made her way to the table, Fade following close behind.

  Alma sat next to a red haired woman in a green formal gown. At Prism and Fade’s approach, both stood.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Prism offered the girl a single-armed hug, shifting to keep her stomach out of the way.

  Alma gaped at Prism’s stomach. “Dios mio! You’re ginormous.”

  Prism’s cheeks heated, and Fade laughed.

  “Alma!” the red headed woman scolded. “That was rude.”

  The girl dropped her gaze to her feet. “Sorry, Melodica.”

  Fade put his hand beside his mouth and said in a stage whisper, “It’s true, though, she’s massive.”

  Prism elbowed him. “Shush you.”

  Alma giggled.

  “I think you look adorable,” Melodica said. “When are you due?”

  “About a month. I’m more than ready.” Prism laughed, patting her stomach.

  “You’ll sit with us?” Alma asked. “Everyone here is so boring—except you, Melodica.” She cast her guardian an apologetic look. “You’re not so bad.”

  “High praise indeed,” Melodica intoned. Prism was fuzzy about Melodica’s exact power base, but she knew it somehow involved music. Even when she spoke, Melodica sounded a bit like she was singing which made it hard not to like her.

  “I think there’s assigned seating,” Prism said.

  “Prism’s too used to the right side of the law,” Fade said. “Watch this.” He selected the two place cards from the empty seats nearest Alma, walked a little ways, swapped them with another set, and returned carrying those. “Hey, look, Lucia, I found our seats.”

  Prism’s eyes darted around to see if anyone had noticed—or cared. No one moved to stop Fade, so she relaxed. “I guess, but if anyone questions why we’re sitting here, you have to explain.”

  “Obviously just a mix up on the place cards.” He placed the ones with their names beside the plates. “See, it says we’re sitting right here.”

  She laughed. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

  Melodica stood. “Oh, I see Iceblade! We used to work together at Langley. Come on, Alma. I want
to introduce you.”

  “Okay.” Alma followed her adopted mother away from the table.

  Finally able to rest, Prism nudged off her high heels beneath the table and wriggled her toes. She should have just worn flats. After all, who was going to question the heavily pregnant woman about her style choices? It had been kind of a point of pride, though, telling Fade she could handle an evening in high heels, baby or no baby. Plus being married to a dude who was over a foot taller than her, well, it was nice to have a night where she didn’t look short.

  “Prism! Fade!” a voice boomed.

  Prism flinched. Was the whole banquet going to be nothing but people shouting at her from across the room? She’d literally just sat down.

  A sable in an elegant silver suit strode forward, a toothy smile pasted on his face. His brown hair was meticulously styled and even though he was dressed in formal wear, a forest green cape still fluttered from his shoulders.

  Prism stood and offered him her hand. “Glint, congratulations on your appointment.”

  “Thank you.” He bent elegantly over her hand and kissed it. Fade arched an eyebrow before standing to face him.

  “Yeah, you’re a perfect fit for the committee, Glint,” Fade said.

  Glint laughed. “Why does that sound like an insult when you say it?”

  Fade smiled. “Maybe because I’m not the committee type, but seriously, you’re a class A sable, and the committee will be better off with you on it.”

  Prism slipped her hand around her husband’s and gave him a squeeze. While she adored his rebel side, she also admired how he could temper it when called for.

  “Thanks, Fade.” Glint’s smile softened to a slightly more genuine expression. “Honestly, after the last few years, working so closely with you and your team, I’m glad you could both make it. When I got the first guest list for approval and saw you weren’t on it, I called up the organizers and had them fix it immediately.”

  Prism stiffened. They hadn’t been on the first guest list? She forced herself to keep smiling. “Thank you for that. I’m glad we could be here.”

  Melodica and Alma approached, coming up from behind Glint.

  Prism cleared her throat. “Speaking of working together, I’m sure you remember Alma.”

  Glint spun around, his face blanching. “Ah, yeah, we ... we met.”

  Alma gave an uncomfortable laugh. “No hard feelings, right? About the whole—”

  “Don’t mention it,” Glint said quickly. “Things happen in this line of work. Gets messy. No need to rehash past mistakes, you know?” His tone took on a hopeful edge.

  “Yeah, no need.” Alma smiled smugly before slipping past him to take her seat at the table. Melodica exchanged some pleasantries with Glint before joining her adopted daughter.

  Glint continued to fidget before his eyes brightened, and he waved to someone behind Prism. “Ahoy, Adjudicator! Where’ve you been all night?”

  Prism’s shoulders hitched towards her ears. She didn’t stand or turn around as the heavy footfalls of the DOSA committee member sounded on the polished floor behind her.

  “Got caught up in some last minute business,” the Adjudicator’s husky voice said right over her head. “You’ll know what that’s like soon. This job doesn’t give you much off time.” He circled around to face Alma, but if he noticed Prism and Fade, he didn’t acknowledge them. “I see you’ve met our shining future DOSA member.” The Adjudicator had opted to wear his mask and hood though he wore a tux beneath the disguise. Now he focused on Alma. “I’ve heard amazing reports about your training. I look forward to having you fighting for the cause for many years to come.”

  Alma squirmed in her seat, casting Prism a sideways glance.

  “Well, not for a few more years.” Melodica gave a nervous laugh. “She’s young yet.”

  “Of course, of course.” The Adjudicator nodded absently before his eyes swept around the table. His gaze fell on Prism, and he recoiled. “What are you doing here?”

  Prism balked.

  “Nice to see you, too.” Fade scoffed.

  “I’m serious. Neither of you were on the official guest list I approved. How—”

  “Easy, sir.” Glint placed his hand on the Adjudicator’s shoulder. “It’s my doing. I called up and had them added on after I saw they were absent. They aren’t party crashers. I promise.” Glint attempted his usual charming smile, but the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes quavered ever so slightly.

  “We were very grateful to receive the invitations.” Prism reached into her purse and pulled out the card the doorman had given her. She placed it purposefully on the table before her.

  The Adjudicator’s jaw clenched.

  Prism’s chest heated. While there was no fondness between her and the Adjudicator, she was a member in good standing of DOSA. A friend of two out of four committee members—counting Glint—and had been considered for the position herself. She belonged here as much as any other sable.

  “If you’re going to be on the committee, Glint, you need to pick your associates with care,” the Adjudicator spoke through his teeth. “The company you choose can drag you down.”

  Fade rose half out of his chair.

  Glint put out his hand. “Easy, Fade. I’ve got you.” He faced the Adjudicator. “With all due respect, Prism and Fade are long-term colleagues of mine. My LA team has participated in multiple joint operations with them, and they’ve always conducted themselves admirably. As far as I’m concerned, they’re associates who will hold me up, not bring me down, and I’ll stand by that.” He flashed Prism a smile, and her tension eased.

  The Adjudicator’s eyes narrowed at Glint. “Maybe you’re right—I believe the meal service will start soon. We should probably get to our table.”

  Glint cocked his head towards Prism. “Maybe you could smooth things over first?”

  “All right, you go on, then. I’ll be right behind you,” the Adjudicator agreed.

  Chest inflated as if he’d just negotiated world peace, Glint sauntered off.

  As soon as he was out of ear shot, the Adjudicator faced Prism and hissed, “You’re sleeping with Glint too, then?”

  His words hit Prism like a punch to the throat. Alma gaped.

  “Hey!” Fade snarled. “Watch it.”

  “That is entirely inappropriate,” Prism managed to splutter out.

  “From what I can tell, that’s how you manage the men around you.” The Adjudicator jerked his head towards Fade. “If the baby comes out white, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “If you can’t find your teeth after I’m done with you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Fade gripped the edge of the table.

  “I don’t think violence is the solution here, Fade.” Prism scowled. “However, an HR complaint might be. We have witnesses at this table who I know will back me if I want to make a claim of harassment. No one, not even a committee member, is above DOSA’s standards, and what you just said clearly crosses a line.”

  “Go right ahead. Show DOSA that you’re a whining little brat who runs crying when she’s called out for her methods. We all know you got Fade on your team by bedding him. The evidence is right in front of us. I’m guessing that new guy, the one who volunteered to join your team out of nowhere a few months ago, is also one of your conquests?” The Adjudicator dropped his voice, “You’re a nothing sable, Powell. Flashy but pointless light powers and a pretty face. Hopefully this baby gets its father’s abilities. Whether that father is Fade, Glint, or even this Wildfyre chump, the kid will be of more use to DOSA than you ever will be.”

  “What the frick! You can’t talk to her like that—” Alma bristled.

  The Adjudicator stalked away before Prism could push aside the queasiness in her stomach to respond.

  “That’s it!” Fade bolted up from the table, his chair screeching across the floor.

  Shaking herself off, Prism reached for him. “Fade, it’s all right. Don’t do anything—” Her hand slipped throu
gh him as he accessed his power and stomped right through the table. She tried to get her feet back into her high heels, gave up, and took off after him barefoot.

  “Hey, wait! I want to see the fireworks, too!” Alma followed after Prism, ignoring a muffled protest from Melodica.

  Fade cut through a couple more tables, their inhabitants making various exclamations of surprise and amusement, before he caught up with the Adjudicator along the edge of the banquet hall. The Adjudicator spun to face him, glaring.

  Still a few tables back, Prism could only watch in horror as her husband grabbed the DOSA committee member by the shoulder and pushed him through the wall.

  Her heart dropped into her stomach. Fade ending up in a holding cell would ruin the evening, to say the least.

  “Where’d they go?” Alma squeaked.

  Prism scanned the wall before seeing a staff entrance a few feet from where they’d disappeared.

  “This way!”

  She led Alma through the door and found Fade with the Adjudicator pushed up against the wall, Fade’s hand locked on the other man’s shoulder.

  “Let me go!” The Adjudicator swung at Fade’s chin. His hand cut through Fade as if he wasn’t even there.

  “No, and you’re going to listen for once in your worthless life,” Fade said. “You’ve been throwing your weight around and talking crap about my wife for far too long. This is your last warning. One more time, and I don’t care if it gets me kicked out of DOSA, I’m going to whoop your ass.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” The Adjudicator squared his shoulders but remained against the wall, unable to escape Fade’s grasp.

  “Oh, I would, gleefully.” Fade glanced towards where Prism stood, staring at him. His expression softened slightly. “I’d do a lot more than that for her.”

  Prism’s insides went melty. He shot her a brief smile then returned his glare to the Adjudicator.

  “You don’t have to like her. Believe it or not, we don’t like you very much either, but if you don’t have the common decency to treat her with respect, then don’t expect me to treat you with respect either, and my version of disrespect is a lot more painful than yours is, trust me.” Fade shoved the Adjudicator, sending him stumbling down the hall.