Chapter 12

I wandered through the Ward,deciding a stroll was in order to clear my head. It had been days since the city discovered the Machinist's untimely death. Thanks to Clint's boyfriend, our digital footprint had been wiped. The flags still flew at half-mast as they mourned a fallen hero. Good riddance, I say. I couldn't focus on a pompous fool who should have known the outcome of his actions. Instead, thoughts returned to Won-Ho, shoving me through a portal and the sensation of his hands on my body.

I looked down at my pants. "Down, boy."

I had texted Won-Ho, suggesting another date. When he hadn't replied, I grew impatient. I thought of sending flowers, but refused to be a tired cliche. Instead, I stood in front of a storefront that looked as if I stumbled onto the streets of historic London. The wooden exterior and the mannequins in finely tailored suits held an old-world charm.

The Guild of Ash is the most well-known suit maker in Vanguard. I opened the door, and it caught the bell, making a jingling noise. Inside, the wood motif continued, the shelves lined with dress shirts and suit jackets. I had more than one suit designed by the amazing Ash. Their attention to detail far surpassed any designer I had encountered.

"Damien Vex."

I looked to the back to see the infamous Asher. They wore a dress shirt with a puffy collar, reminding me of a pirate. Their pants bore more zippers than necessary, but they blended nicely with the dark gray tartan. With each step from the back work table, the bangles on their wrist jingled.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"It's been quite some time."

"That's what happens when you're incarcerated."

Asher didn't fear me. I'm not sure they were capable of fear. In seconds, I could tear them apart and not work up a sweat. If I wanted, I could buy their operation and have the windows shuttered by tomorrow. Asher knew the power they wielded, and it had little to do with this quaint shop sitting on the side of the street.

"I'm in need of a suit."

"Old age adding inches around the waist?"

I glanced at my belt. I prepared to hurl an insult, but perhaps they were right. Pouring over legal documents and sitting on my throne wasn't a physically demanding job. Asher walked closer, pulling the tape measure from their neck. There weren't many who treated me as anything other than a pestilence on Vanguard. Asher didn't concern themselves with any of that. They happily stood outside the conversation of right and wrong.

"I'm also in need of your other services."

"Damien Vex…" They didn't hide the devilish grin. "Are you asking moi for a favor?" They batted their eyelashes.

I rolled my eyes. Every super in Vanguard knew of Asher and their penchant for gossip. Little happened in the city without the information passing through here. Today, I'd test that claim.

"What can you tell me about Prime?"

The ring in Asher's eyebrow raised ridiculously high. They gave me a slight push to a platform with one side surrounded by mirrors. If they bit their tongue, it meant I had asked for something uncommon. My research had turned up nothing but the usual newspaper articles. I could have asked Geoff to research the hero. But I didn't want my assistant asking questions, not when he wanted to stab me in the back.

"Vanguard's first hero? That's a blast from the past."

Nobody quite knew if Asher had their own abilities. More than one person speculated, but nobody had first-hand experience. No, Asher's power came from knowing every musclebound brute with some tinge of power.

"I'm sure you know everything the papers said about the guy."

"I've done my homework."

Asher reached around my wrist, securing the tape measure along the button of my pants. With a sly glance, I could tell the grin meant I had added an inch of girth. They proceeded to push my legs apart to measure my inseam.

"He saved the city more than once. The mayor treated him like the cure-all for Vanguard's problems. Corruption got out of hand. Of course, that happens when the government consists of crooks. Eventually, Prime crossed the mayor. It turned into an all-out war to bring him in."

This was news to me. Won-Ho had made it sound as if he made a few wrong choices before retiring. If the mayor had wanted him gone, he'd have been painted as public enemy number one.

"So, he kept his reputation as a hero."

Asher's head popped up. "I didn't say that. Prime won the war against the city. Not everybody involved was on the mayor's payroll. He shot first and asked questions second. Don't get me wrong, Prime cleaned up the city, but it came at a cost."

"Interesting," I mumbled. That would explain why Prime didn't dwell on my mutilation of the Machinist. "Any idea what happened to him?"

The back of Asher's hand smacked against my package, giving me a jolt. "Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?"

He caught me. "I will neither confirm nor deny your accusation."

"If I asked about your involvement with Machinist, I'm sure you'd say the same."

I reached down, grabbing Asher by the front of their shirt. Lifting them off their feet, I pinned them against a mirror. I pushed hard enough that the mirror cracked. The last thing I needed was for Asher to tell the world I had anything to do with Machinist. If the media caught wind, stocks would dip, and soldiers would come calling. Not even LaToya could keep me out of Cold Iron.

"I appreciate the confirmation," they squeaked.

It had been a setup. I growled. "Be thankful I need your skills." I set them down. "But if you whisper a word?—"

"You'll kill me. Do you think you're the first person to threaten me? Damien, you're not the first person today. Get in line if you're going to hurl empty threats."

Killing Asher would probably get me killed faster than taking on the Centurions. They had found a niche for themselves in the super community, making them invaluable. It just so happened that was the real reason for my visit. I'd order a few suits for myself, but the most important purchase wasn't for me at all.

"I'm going to need your other talents."

"Whatever you read on the bathroom stall, it's entirely true." The fact they weren't fazed by threats made me want to smack them all the harder. First Won-Ho and now this pipsqueak. Maybe I had grown soft? Then I thought back to the screams of the Machinist. Maybe not.

"No," I shook my head. "Your other talents."

I looked down the length of their store to the door hidden in the back. To any patron, it'd look like another shelf holding finely tailored pants. Asher's store served as their passion project, while the bulk of their clientele needed specialized clothing. Most of the heroes and criminals in the powered community sported suits designed by Asher.

"I need you to make me a suit."

"I see." They gave the collar of their shirt a fluffing. "In that case, follow me. What made you change your mind?"

At one point, Asher let it slip that they wanted to dress my alter ego. With my abilities, a suit would be overkill. I preferred wielding shadows as a second skin. Despite their insistence, I had kindly declined their request.

"Oh," I followed them to the back of the store. "It's not for me."

Asher paused at the wall. Sliding open a panel, they pressed their hand to the scanner. The technology hinted at what lay hidden beneath their workshop. They glanced over their shoulder, shooting me a quick grin.

"Damien Vex, what do you have planned?"