Page 45 of Fanning the Flames
“You’re a lifesaver.” He accepted the bottle. “Can’t make hot honey chicken without the honey.”
“Happy to help,” Sadie said.
Morris gazed at Joan. “Ouch. That’s an angry scratch.”
“It was from an angry creature,” Joan said.
“A velociraptor?”
She grimaced. “No, a pissed-off cat.”
Sadie rubbed Joanie’s lower back.
“How’s business been?” Morris asked. “We’ve noticed things slow down once the sun sets.”
“We’ve noticed that, too,” Joan said. “I don’t think people want to be out after dark.”
“The activity’s not any worse. These Villains are just as bad in the daytime.”
Joan’s expression didn’t change, but tiny flickers sparked in her amber eyes.
A few cars behind them, Wren and Beth-Ann stepped out of Powered by Plants. Sadie waved from the doorway, causing them to wave back. They walked over, Beth-Ann saying, “Hi, guys. What’s new?”
“We were talking about how the streets clear out after dark,” Morris said.
“Because of Prowl and Squawk?”
He nodded.
“You’d think people would be used to this,” Wren said. “It’s not like we haven’t dealt with Supervillains before.”
“Yeah, but we knew what to expect from Volt and Spark and the rest of them,” said Morris. “The devil you know, y’know? I don’t know about the new ones.”
Mark joined them, wiping his hands on a towel. Sadie moved down to the long step flanked by the tall steel cabinet that housed the propane tank.
“Our old Supervillains were pretty tame compared to some of the other ones,” Beth-Ann said.
“Tame?” Mark said.
Wren nodded. “They were more like ne’er-do-wells who broke stuff.”
“They weren’t tame,” Mark insisted.
“Ice gave my sister three hundred bucks once,” said Beth-Ann. “He saw her having trouble with an ATM, and he ran back from whatever he was doing to hand her a wad of cash. She always liked him after that.”
Mark’s body temperature dropped—the chill ran through Sadie’s back. “Wait, she actually liked him?” he said.
“Well, I don’t know iflikeis the right word, but she was grateful.”
“Not all Villains are bad guys,” Sadie said, careful not to look at either of the Malone twins.
“They’re not good guys either,” Morris said. “They busted up the bank we had our savings account at. It took a full extra year for us to get our funds squared away to open Cajun Soul.”
Joan shifted her weight. Beth-Ann pointed to her face and said, “What happened to your eye?”
“Cat fight. The cat won.” To Morris, Joan said, “Sorry about your money.”
He shrugged. “Everyone’s got a story like that.”
