Page 45 of Infamous Heart

“Power. Somebody this pathetic, you’d never understand. I’ll dismantle this abysmal magazine one employee at a time. When it folds, I’ll be there waiting. Then I’ll show Damien. He’ll finally see what I’m capable of.”

Lady Trollsalot. Vincent. Sofia. Wraith’s attacks weren’t random. She had been unsuccessfully targeting employees from the Beacon. It wasn’t a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time when she attacked me that night. She was attempting to strip the Beacon of its employees. Why? Kill them so she could take it over? For the head of marketing, she certainly didn’t understand how publications worked. Even with the four of us dead, Bossman would continue onward without a second thought.

“You’re doing this to prove a point to Damien? Really? You want daddy’s approval? This is just sad.”

Okay, making her talk had worked. Perhaps insulting her was a bad idea. But after the conversation in the elevator, I finally had leverage, and I wasn’t going to let it go.

“You’d be dead if not for… Sebastian.”

My jaw dropped.

I had been so consumed with myself, I hadn’t thought about the night in the alley. When Sebastian had saved me, he had been all flashy and blinding. I had thought him safe, that he had blinded her, as well. If she knew who he was this entire time, then during the second fight, she knew it was him. At work, she dragged him into a meeting, and I thought it might be all about me. What if he had been added to her list of targets?

“Leave him alone,” I warned.

“Or what? You’ll infect me with your mediocrity?”

A puff of red smoke appeared between us, and a woman emerged. The black and white leather had seen better days, an unfortunate side effect of being an active super. Whoever tailored these suits couldn’t keep up with the wear and tear.

Slipstream, a teleporter from the city with the ability to travel between dimensions. My distress beacon had been answered.

“Somebody need an exit?”

Rhetorical hero dialogue. It wasn’t the best tagline, but at least she didn’t strike a pose as she said it. She put a hand on Sofia’s shoulder and a cloud of red smoke swallowed them both. Poof, gone, hopefully somewhere safe.

“It’s just you and—“

The cloud appeared next to Wraith, and I silently cheered as Slipstream’s fist connected with the villain’s jaw. The tendrils of black shot forward, ready to pierce the hero’s body armor. Before they got close, she vanished again.

“Fight me!” Wraith let the anger fuel her screams.

Slipstream emerged from another puff directly in front of me. With a wink, she wrapped her arms around my torso, shoving me back. We fell, but instead of hitting the ground, the smoke cleared, and we were on a street two blocks away from the subway.

“Stay safe. Have to go beat the snot out of that woman.”

Like magic, she vanished in a puff of red smoke. I savored the image of Slipstream landing a punch. If she didn’t get in a few more licks, I’d be upset. With my luck, Wraith had already vanished, like she had done previously. It seemed unless she had the upper hand, she was quick to retreat.

No matter the outcome, the risk had paid off. I had everything I needed for Damien’s article. He wanted the story behind the super, well he’d have it. I pulled out my phone and furiously typed a message to Sebastian. For a moment, I considered deleting it, that dark voice in my head suggesting he was in cahoots with Rebecca.

I stared at the last message he sent and felt a comfortable numb set in. I pressed send. I had been the bigger person, but after last night, I didn’t want to read anything from him. I flipped to his profile and blocked his number. I’d deal with that situation when I saw him next.

“First Damien, then Sebastian. Now we’re playing by your rules.” I stormed off toward my apartment to prepare for my next confrontation with the bigwig of Revelations.

* * *

“Mr. Smith,” Damien stood with his back to the door, studying something on his desk. “I wasn’t expecting you to return so soon.”

I held the length of my tie, tightening it around my neck. I craned my neck as it brushed against the scruff under my chin. I tried not to scratch at my torso, annoyed at the layers of fabric rubbing against the hair on my stomach. I drew the front of my jacket close, fastening the buttons. Standing tall, I broadened my shoulders, my body groaning as I corrected my posture.

I held my tongue. If Damien wanted to play games, I’d humor him. In this chess match, I was prepared to go the distance. I rested my hands across my stomach. From this angle, Damien might be mistaken for an attractive man. He was wide in the shoulders, tapering down until the muscle reached his waist. I imagined he spent plenty of time in his home gym, developing those muscles. Vanity struck me as a pillar of his personality.

“Can I help you?” He didn’t turn around.

“I’d appreciate a modicum of your attention.”

His back straightened and his head turned enough I could make out the smile on his face. I fought to keep my hands from shaking, switching to holding them behind my back. The last time I demonstrated a backbone, I had been fired.

“A modicum, you say? Well, you have my attention, Mr. Smith. Are you going to make it worth my while?”

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