Reborn (Supervillain Rehabilitation Project Book 3)

by H. L. Burke

  “Don’t tap on the glass, Frank. It’s cruel to the animals,” a haughty voice intoned. Brink stepped into the room. “You’re late.”

  “Took a roundabout route in case I was followed.” Chamberlain squared his shoulders. “What are you doing with the gateway? I felt the energy of it powering up even outside.”

  Brink waved dismissively. “As I said, you’re late. Uncertain that you would show up at all rather than cut your losses and try to leave me holding the blame, I was preparing to take needed action. Namely to transport my team to California and silence a few pests.”

  Chamberlain stiffened. “You can’t do that.”

  “Watch me.” Brink marched into the next room. A great metal arch took up the center of the open space. Dozens of computer stations, all alive with incoming data or security feeds, lined the walls surrounding it. Brink headed towards one of these computers and pulled up a sensor reading.

  Chamberlain examined the gateway. Still lifeless, though he could feel the power crackling in the room. So far from any major power sources, it would take some time for Brink to leech the needed energy off the rural power grid—at least if he wanted to do so without causing a statewide blackout, which wasn’t necessarily a given.

  “You need to power it down, now,” he demanded. “We can’t risk this facility being exposed, for one thing—”

  “Oh, so now you’re concerned about unnecessary risk?” Brink’s voice dropped dangerously low. “Where was this caution when preparing for the last stage of our mission? You were supposed to keep the Powells away from the banquet! You knew Fade has a natural resistance to Counsel’s powers, and if the sister recognized him—well, what happened would happen!” He stomped away from the computer towards the humming gateway. “If you hadn’t been incompetent, none of this would be happening.”

  “Don’t you accuse me of incompetence. Your team couldn’t pull off your half of the heist either!” Chamberlain growled.

  Brink scoffed. “Oh, you mean my half where I organized the neutralization of an entire banquet hall full of DOSA sables, infiltrated a secure facility, and planted an explosive device that would cause just enough loss of life to call into question the competency of your fellow committee members so you could demand their resignations and slide into power like you’ve always desired? That half? Which is admittedly equal to the half where you had to keep two individuals off an official guest list of which you had full oversight.” Brink’s tone sharpened.

  “I did have them off the list—Glint added them back on after I thought the matter was seen to.” Chamberlain stood straighter.

  “Oh, my apologies. I didn’t realize you were up against such insurmountable odds.”

  After spluttering for a moment, Chamberlain jabbed a finger towards Brink. “What about keeping your charges under control? Powell told the committee she and at least one of her team members have been getting telepathic messages from her brother.”

  Brink went rigid. Spinning on his heels, he stomped out of the gateway chamber back to the cell room, Chamberlain scurrying to keep up. At the cells, Brink paused in front of Aiden’s room and placed his palm flat against the glass. Lights raced across the transparent surface, forming a readout of vital signs, charts, and other information. Brink scanned this before casting Chamberlain a suspicious glare. “When did she say they’d received these communications? I don’t see any energy spikes that would suggest he’s overpowered the disruptors recently.”

  “She wasn’t specific,” Chamberlain lied. “However, the fact that she’s aware that he can do so is bad enough.”

  Brink removed his hand, and the lights died, leaving the glass clear and flawless once more. “It doesn’t matter. She’ll never give up now that she knows he’s been revived. We need to remove her as a factor before we continue our mission. As long as Lucia Powell is alive, she’ll continue to plague us.”

  “You can’t send your team through the gateway to California. Not yet,” Chamberlain protested. “Our access to the gateways needs to remain a secret if we are to succeed.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” Brink drummed his fingers rhythmically against the glass. “We could use more traditional transportation methods. The drive will take just under two days, assuming normal conditions and my self-driving truck enabling us to travel without stopping—”

  “Or we could hire it out. Less suspicious.” The Adjudicator’s shoulders relaxed. Throwing money at a problem was more his expertise. “I have contacts on the west coast. After all, Powell’s a superhero. Not at all unusual for them to be targeted by random villains.”

  Brink gave a slow nod. “That could work, but if your man can’t take her down, we do it my way, with my team so it gets done right.”

  “Trust me. Lucia Powell won’t know what hit her. With her gone, her team will fall apart from within, and nothing will stand in our way.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lucia! Lucia, you need to hear me. Look out! Please, look out!

  Prism jerked awake with a sharp inhalation.

  Fade grunted beside her. He reached over to place his hand on her arm. “You all right?”

  “Shh.” Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the memory of his voice.

  Aiden, I can hear you. Can you hear me?

  Nothing.

  Disappointment bit into her heart.

  “I thought I heard him again,” she whispered. She rolled onto her side and hid her face in her pillow.

  Fade massaged her back and shoulders. “After everything you went through today, everything you found out, it makes sense that you’d dream of him.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back tears. It didn’t work. “I mean, if he were really still out there, wouldn’t he be trying to contact me constantly? Why only when I’m asleep?”

  Fade shifted so his body cradled hers. He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s something about sleep that makes it easier for him to break in.”

  She opened her eyes. “You mean you believe me now?”

  “Considering that we know for a fact that he’s both at least physically alive and that he’s received some sort of power upgrade, we can’t discount the idea that he might be trying to communicate with you and Tanvi.” He sighed. “Even so—I’m worried, Luce. If Talon is right, if there’s nothing left of him, or just small traces, unable to free himself from whatever Brink has done, it’s going to break your heart all over again.”

  Her lips pursed. “Do you think they’re right? That maybe the merciful thing to do is ... is what they plan?” Even if they were right, she couldn’t say it.

  “I’m not sure. I do think that from what I remember of Aiden, he didn’t fear death, but this? What they’ve done would be torture for him.” He stroked her arm before resting his hand on top of her belly. “Do you know what time it is?”

  She reached for her phone on the nightstand then winced. “A little after two.”

  The baby within her did a somersault, and Fade chuckled. “She’s up too, huh?”

  “I guess. I hope this isn’t a sign for how she’ll sleep when she’s out of there.” Sadness fell over her as heavy as the shadows in their darkened room. “We still haven’t named her. I feel like this should be a happy time. We should be nesting, preparing for her, but now? How am I supposed to focus on the baby with everything going on with Aiden?”

  “One step at a time,” he whispered in her ear. “Remember, she’ll be here soon. We’ll be able to hold her. Maybe it won’t fix what’s going on, but it might make things just a little bit better.”

  “Maybe. At least the nursery is ready, and we still have about a month left.” She didn’t know if she could endure another month of uncertainty over Aiden, with or without the baby.

  They lay in silence for several minutes. Prism kept her mind blank, finding that every thought chain just led to grief no matter how hard she tried to navigate to happier memories.

  The team
had taken the news about Aiden as well as could be expected. Fade had done most of the talking. Prism couldn’t. Every time she thought about what the committee had allowed to happen, she’d break down all over again, angry, brokenhearted, and confused. Towards the end, even she admitted she wasn’t in a state to make any plans. When Fade had suggested sleeping on it, she’d crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep.

  Unfortunately, not for long.

  What am I going to do?

  Fade whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her. “We’re not getting back to sleep anytime soon, are we?”

  “Probably not.” She carefully shifted her weight and sat up on the edge of the bed.

  He stood and pulled on a t-shirt. “Why don’t we go downstairs and either put on a movie or fire up a video game? Just something to keep our minds busy.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Still clad in her pajama bottoms and a maternity tank top that she’d joked looked like a small tent, she slid her feet into some flip-flops and followed Fade to the elevator.

  When they reached the first floor, muffled voices drifted down the hall to greet them. Prism and Fade exchanged a look before entering the game room.

  Keeper and Wildfyre, Keeper with Yui on his lap as always, took up the two chairs while Tanvi sprawled out on the couch. At Prism and Fade’s entrance, they fell quiet, Tanvi sitting upright.

  “Hey, you’re awake,” Tanvi said. “You okay, girl? Your eyes look—dang, I don’t mean to be mean, but you got some dark circles going on.”

  Prism flinched. “Yeah, I had another dream about Aiden. At least I think it was a dream.” She tilted her head, examining Tanvi. “You didn’t hear anything, did you?”

  “Sorry, not this time.” Tanvi’s shoulders drooped.

  “What are you all doing up?” Fade asked.

  “None of us could sleep, not after the news you brought us about the poor lad.” The wrinkles around Keeper’s eyes deepened.

  “It’s kind of my fault,” Wildfyre said. “As the only one on the team who didn’t know Aiden, I asked them if they could tell me a little about him.”

  “I guess we had more stories than we thought.” Tanvi gave a half-hearted laugh. “I mean, Aiden—he’s the kind of guy it’s easy to talk about, you know?”

  “I know,” Prism whispered.

  Tanvi scooted to one end of the couch and patted the middle cushion. “Since you’re up anyway, join us. You probably have more stories than all of us combined.”

  “I’m ... I’m not sure I’m in the mood.” Prism hung her head. “I mean, I want to remember the good times, but right now—what if it only makes it harder?”

  Placing Yui carefully to one side, Keeper stood and placed his hands on her arms. “Luce, my lass, it’s okay to mourn, but you should always keep in mind the good times. Whatever happens, whatever fate has in store for the team, for you, or for Aiden wherever he may be, you need to hold onto what you remember, the laughter, the love. That boy would’ve given every drop of blood for you. Wherever he is, he wouldn’t want you to only remember the sad times.”

  A sob shook Prism. The world blurred through her tears, and she allowed the older man to pull her into a hug. After a moment of sniffling, she stood up straight again.

  “I do have a lot of stories.”

  “That’s my lass,” Keeper said. He glanced down at the coffee table where two empty glasses and one can of Dr Pepper rested. “If we’re going to stay up, I’ll need another bevvy. Anyone else want anything?”

  “Wine, but I’ll pick it out myself. You, Pris?” Tanvi eyed her friend.

  Prism’s nose wrinkled. “Herbal tea? Water?”

  Tanvi groaned. “I can’t wait until that baby is out of there and we can have a real drink together again—or even a coffee. Just anything more fun than water and boiled leaf juice.”

  Prism laughed. “Me too, girl. Me too.” She settled onto the couch.

  Keeper laughed and headed out of the room. Yui leaped from the chair and slank after him.

  “You, Wildfyre?” Tanvi nodded to him.

  “Nah, I’m good.” He tapped the can of Dr Pepper. “Still working on my first.”

  “Suit yourself.” Tanvi rolled her eyes. “You know for a villain, you’re kind of a goody-goody. After Fade, I thought all our villain recruits would be my drinking buddies.”

  “Sorry to disappoint. I really don’t need anything, though.”

  “What if I pop a bag of popcorn?” she pressed.

  He hesitated. “Sure, I could go for that. Do you need my help?”

  “To push a couple buttons on the microwave?” Tanvi arched her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  He shrugged. “Seemed the gentlemanly thing to ask.”

  “What about you, Fade-o?” Tanvi turned to him.

  Fade eyed Prism. “I’m good.” He settled onto the couch beside his wife.

  Tanvi threw up her hands. “What the crap? I don’t like drinking alone.”

  “You have Keeper,” Fade pointed out.

  “Yeah, but he just gets more Scottish when he drinks. After a few whiskeys, when he gets ‘blootered’ or whatever he calls it, his accent gets so thick, I can’t understand a thing he says.” She threw her hands in the air. “Well, whatever. I still want wine.” She stomped off.

  Fade shifted on the cushions. Prism nudged him, a smile quirking the corners of her mouth. “There’s a six pack of those IPAs you like in the break room fridge.”

  “I don’t need one,” he said.

  “But you want one. Especially if we’re going to be spilling our guts and probably more than a few tears talking about Aiden.” She gently shoved him. “Go, get your beer.”

  He laughed. “You know me too well.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll poke around to see if there’s anything more interesting than herbal tea for you and the baby. Maybe a nice mocktail.”

  “Can of something with bubbles and tell Tanvi to put in an extra bag of popcorn?” she suggested.

  “I’ll do that.” He moved his lips onto her cheek then headed after Tanvi.

  Wildfyre rested his hand on his chin, staring into space.

  Prism rubbed her eyes. This time Aiden’s voice had been so faint. Was Fade right and it was just a dream? Or could he really be reaching out to her?

  Wildfyre cleared his throat, and her gaze snapped to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what?” She frowned.

  His eyes pinched shut. “If I had said something about recognizing Crushwave sooner, maybe we would’ve figured out that Brink was using resurrected sables. Maybe you and Tanvi would’ve been able to put two and two together when you heard Aiden calling to you. Maybe we could’ve started looking for him months ago—”

  “We don’t have any reason to believe any of that would’ve happened,” Prism interrupted him.

  “But it might’ve! I cost you and the rest of the team valuable time. Time you won’t get back. I spent my villain career steeped in environmental and social activism. It was all about resources, non-renewable vs renewable. The fair distribution of them, the stewardship of them and who I felt should control that—but the whole time, I didn’t realize that the one major non-renewable resource is time. Once it’s gone, you can’t get it back. It’s just ... gone.” He trailed off.

  Prism scanned his face. This is about his dad, not about you, but dang, the guy is holding onto everything.

  “You know, Wildfyre, you cling to guilt like it’s a pair of socks straight out of the dryer and you forgot to use static-free sheets,” she said.

  He laughed. “I guess, but I kind of have a lot to be guilty about.”

  “But not this.” The baby kicked within her, and she curled her arms around her stomach, patting gently where the baby’s foot had made contact. “There’s a slight chance we would’ve jumped on the investigation immediately, taking your word that you were able to identify a long dead colleague in a grainy surveillance video. However, it’s even mo
re likely we would’ve assumed what you assumed: that you were mistaken. Even if we did take your word for it, no one knows where Brink is hiding with his subjects even now, and it’s been months. You identifying Crushwave wouldn’t have helped us track them down.” She smiled at him. “Everyone on this team knows you’re trying your best. Cut yourself a little slack, all right? I told you when you joined the team, it’s a process. When Fade entered the SVR, it took months for us to click, and Alma—don’t get me started on her. She’s the whole reason we decided to create a separate system for teens than we have for the adults villains.”

  A thought struck Prism. Alma hadn’t been the only teen they’d encountered. Alma used to run with a small gang that included herself, another teen girl, this one who with electrical manipulations powers ... and a boy who could track people remotely.

  Her breath left her. That could be her chance. If Jackson could find out where Brink held Aiden, they could get to him before Brink made his next move.

  We could bring him home—or at least find out if there’s any hope to free him from this, and if there’s not— She shuddered.

  “You all right?” Wildfyre’s brow furrowed.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  The voices of the other team members alerted her to their return. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. It was too late to arrange a meeting with Jackson. For now, she’d wait.

  If this doesn’t work, though, I don’t know what I’ll do next.