Chapter 6

"Forty-eight hours is the unofficial rule."

"That's dumb."

"I didn't write the rule book."

"There isn't a rule book."

Clint looked as if Diesel had slapped him across the face. If I could take back the question, I would. It didn't require a debate, especially not from these two simpletons. I would have been better off asking Geoff.

The server set the third round of drinks in front of us. It should raise suspicion that the three of us sat shoulder-to-shoulder while the Doc occupied the chair across the table. This was the beauty of Haven. Nobody asked questions. Even if they overheard us talking about our less-than-savory activities, they wouldn't raise an eyebrow. I had to wonder if the owner paid the staff extra for their discretion. I'm sure somewhere, video cameras recorded us, waiting for the right moment to use it as leverage. Perhaps I'd make this bar one of my passion purchases?

"Two men walk into the bathroom." Clint turned in his seat to face Diesel. "There are three urinals. The first man goes to the first urinal. Where does the second man go?"

"The one furthest away. Every guy?—"

Clint's hand smacked the table. "We all know that because it's a rule." He threw his hands up as if his ramblings made sense. "Don't tell me there isn't a rule book."

"Don't bring a camera to a bachelor party."

We all froze and stared at Doc. When the quibbles began, he would sit back and let us tucker ourselves out before jumping into the conversation. To think our occupationally required therapist had studied the Men's Unofficial Rulebook made me raise an eyebrow.

Havres appeared. The bony demon always loved to chime in when least appropriate. "Never complain about the brand of free beer."

Clint gestured to Doc. "Even a vengeance demon knows the rule book."

"You're all idiots," I grumbled. It had been my error to think they'd provide any useful feedback. "I retract my request."

Diesel reached across Clint, shoving him back in his seat. Of the three of them, I expected him to give me the most grief. "Call him, you insufferable egomaniac."

Clint's face transformed until he shifted into a mirror image of Diesel. He rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself. "I'm Diesel, and I'm a suave motherfucker." I snorted at the accuracy of his impersonation.

Sitting across from the three of us, Doc leaned forward. It wasn't Doc, but Havres. Much like my own powers, when Havres seized control of Starbird's body, smoke wafted from his skin. In the middle, the bony face resembled a nightmare.

"Something has changed." He sniffed the air. "Vex?"

Doc had alluded to it every time we met. LaToya must have told him that my fight with Sentinel left me powerless. For whatever reason, he refrained from saying it outright. Whenever I cocked an attitude, he'd use that tasty little morsel to keep me in line. My secret no longer mattered.

The gem flashed under my shirt, and I let the black ooze outward. Tendrils of shadows crept along my chest until they showed above the collar of my shirt. If I let them continue, we'd look like two hellish demons. I sat upright, adjusting my tie as they vanished, siphoned into the gem.

"What's going on?" asked Clint. "Are we whipping them out? Diesel, it's happening. Get your ruler."

Havres sat back, receding until Doc gave me a curious glance. "Vex has been busy. What mischief have you been getting yourself into?"

He wanted to know how I got my power. I wonder if it pissed him off that he no longer had a hold on me. He didn't speak while he maintained eye contact. He waited for me to explain myself, but I took a sick pleasure in dragging out the tension.

"For God's sake, just spill it," Diesel said.

"LaToya hand-delivered a mission."

All three of them exchanged glances. It was only a brief look, but I had caught them. The mention of her name rattled them. Did she have them on similar assignments? She unnerved Diesel and Clint. Even Doc had been dragged into this arrangement under the threat of imprisonment. Something about this was different. That'd be a conversation for another time.

"I had to finish Clint's mission for him." I gave him a pat on the back. "Thanks for failing, buddy."

"You're welcome?"

"She wanted you to get the formula, didn't she?" Doc might be her lapdog, but LaToya kept him in the dark most of the time. "Malignant's serum?"

I nodded. "It might have gone sideways."

"At least we all have that in common," Diesel said, raising his glass. Doc and Clint clanked glasses while I drank the swill.

"Unlike you, bozos, she got what she wanted. Mission complete. Carmen LaToya is officially not my problem anymore."

Doc laughed. "You think she's going to stop now? She's not done demanding favors." It sounded as if he had experience. "There's only one way out from under her thumb."

"Death," Clint said.

I rolled my eyes. "A bit overly dramatic, you think?"

Doc shook his head. "Not yours."

Oh. It wasn't my death he spoke of. Carmen had assembled a group of men with more brawn than brains. While I appreciated their sudden willingness to push back against whatever she planned, it wouldn't go as they hoped. I had dealt with women like Carmen. She had more contingency plans than any of us had lives.

"Good luck with that." I held up my beer, but nobody returned my toast. "I want nothing to do with this or her. Good riddance."

Diesel's phone buzzed. He swiped it off the table and a second later, he chugged his beer and slammed the glass down. "It's Lisanette. She wants me in early." I heard the swoosh as he returned a text message. "It's been fun, and Vex, stop being a coward and call the man."

I would have given him a two-finger salute, but Clint made a ringing sound. He held his finger to his ear while speaking into his thumb. "Aww, you want me to come home? What's that? I'm the world's best lover. Oh, you say the sweetest thing." He gave a quick salute as he shimmied out of the booth. "Sorry, Hank needs some sweet, sweet loving."

I'd have said he was acting weird, but for Clint, this was normal. Of all the criminals she could have released from prison, LaToya freed a line cook and an idiot. They were hardly my first choices if I was forming a league of evil. I wouldn't have hired them to be our sidekicks.

I turned to Doc, who sat with his elbows on the table, finger circling the rim of his pint glass. "Mysterious phone call you need to see to?" I asked.

"Oh, no." He smiled. "I've been waiting for a moment to get you alone."

"I'm flattered, Doc, but you couldn't?—"

"We'd wreck you," Havres said. Did the demon rest just beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to rear his bony face? "We'd make you our bitch."

Doc shook his head. "Great, now I'm not going to get that image out of my head."

"You're welcome," I said. I took another drink, cringing as I swallowed. They needed to find themselves a better supplier. This happened when I neglected to pack my flask for therapy sessions. I'd be tasting the bottom-of-the-barrel beer for the rest of the night.

"Who's the gentleman that has you asking us for advice?"

"Now you're going to be helpful?"

He gave a slight shrug. "Consider me curious. If the great and powerful Damien Vex is asking for advice, something must have caught his attention."

I hated to admit it, but he was right. Won-Ho had come out of the aether, and now the barrel-chested man had occupied my thoughts all afternoon. As much as I wanted to see him shirtless, wearing suspenders, I… wanted to talk? Yes, he had definitely gotten under my skin.

"You mock it, but I'm used to commanding the attention of those around me. Other than you yahoos, when I enter a room, they grovel, hoping I bestow my blessings on them."

"I'm sorry, we're a disappointment."

Did all therapists take jabs at their patients? What he had yet to realize was that these three were a relief from the obligations of being me. I might want to stab them, but as of late, I preferred their company over Vanguard's elite. Of course, I couldn't say it out loud without Doc slinging accusations of friendship. I couldn't risk being seen as human.

"You serve your purpose." See, kindness. "This gentleman seems unaffected by status. In fact, I think he takes pleasure in watching me squirm. There's something about him that?—"

"You find attractive?" When I didn't respond, he let out a long sigh. "Vex, I know this might come as a shock to you. But it's okay to be interested in somebody other than yourself."

"I'm questioning your credentials."

"Being nice hasn't gotten me anywhere with you."

"Touché."

"Perhaps it's time to stop treating every interaction like a chess match. It's good that you found somebody to distract you from your… infatuation."

I glared. I didn't need him bringing me back to Sentinel. Nothing would satiate that blood lust. Perhaps he was right? It wouldn't hurt to reach out. At worst, we fucked, and I gave him the best sex of his life. At best… I didn't even know what that might look like.

"Call him."

Doc pushed a half-finished beer across the table and then stood. Sliding into his trench coat, he reached into the pocket before dropping money on the table. "Consider it homework," he said.

He walked away from the table, leaving me to stew in my thoughts. His methods might not be approved by most, but he managed to be effective. I'd ignore Clint's unofficial rules and call… after I got in a workout. It had been too long, and it was time to test my powers without humiliating myself.

* * *

Flight. It's unlike any other sensation. Gravity doesn't exist, and yet, the body knows up from down. There's motion and momentum, but other than the breeze, no friction. I wanted my powers back, but what I craved more than the rest, was the ability to defy the very forces of nature.

I wasn't certain if the gem had reached its full potential. My ego couldn't handle another round with Sentinel only to have him dismiss me as harmless. I wanted to watch him suffer, to feel his throat between my hands, but I wasn't a fool. Tonight, I wanted to test-drive my abilities before our next confrontation.

Of course, flying about Vanguard meant stumbling into heroes, patiently waiting for a damsel in distress. If it weren't for billowing black smoke in my wake, they'd have thought I was just another hero desperate to make a name for themselves. The two trailing behind kept their distance, but I had caught their attention.

They'd be easy fodder. Lure them into a derelict section of Vanguard and then beat the life from their bodies. Tempting as it was, I promised to behave myself tonight. They didn't realize just how lucky they were.

I swooped low to the street. Unlike the rest of Vanguard, Southland didn't have lights lining the sidewalks. Once the sun vanished, the residents vanished indoors. The only people left were unsavory troublemakers. I'm sure if I checked Vex Industries payroll, we used more than a few as hired help. Tonight wasn't about cleaning up the streets. I just needed to find an alley dark enough to?—

I vanished into the shadows. As quickly as I entered the darkness, I reappeared several streets away. Of all the abilities, the short-range teleportation proved the most useful. It meant never being late for a meeting and ducking out of parties where the host insisted on describing his newest yacht.

It took a moment before I realized I had stepped into a construction site. I almost laughed when I spotted the sign. "Solaris Renewables a Vex Industries Subsidiary." The irony of a man dependent on shadows wanting to illuminate Vanguard was not lost on me. In the future, it'd house Vanguard's first smart building, and provide clean energy and hundreds of jobs. If the prototype proved lucrative, we were ready to descend upon Sin City and use it as our large-scale model. But right now, we remained in the earliest stages.

The building was nothing more than steel beams, creating a crisscrossing outline. I hovered through the structure, trying to make sense of the layout. I recalled the upper levels being the research center, but somewhere along the bottom, it'd house the battery backups. Architecture was not among my skill set. Snatching a piece of rebar off a palette, I folded it in half without effort. The strength had returned. The teleportation and flight had come next. My mistake last time had been bestowing aspects of my power to underlings. I wouldn't be repeating that error. This time around, I'd be a one-man spectacle.

With a quick leap, I lifted into the air. When I reached the top of the structure, I found myself a perch. It was almost childlike, sitting on the tallest beam, swinging my legs. I'd have to remember to wear more than briefs before going out. I let out a slight laugh. My options were a suit of smoke or indecent exposure. These are the problems you never hear about when you assume a secret identity.

Surveying Vanguard, I found it always held a tragic beauty. There were hundreds of heroes out there. Some hovered in the sky, waiting to descend, while others lurked in the shadows, seeking criminals. At one point, I had been consumed with breaking Vanguard's fascination with the cape-wearing chumps. Either I had grown soft in my old age, or Sentinel required all my disdain.

"Lost in thought?"

I pushed off the girder, spinning around in the air, arms up, ready to unleash— "Oh, it's you." Against the lights of Vanguard, I recognized the silhouette. My mysterious savior from the other night had made another appearance. I wanted to thank him, but paranoia had me on guard. "Are you stalking me?"

He drifted forward, stepping onto the beam. "Damien, you have an awfully high opinion of yourself."

Curious. There were a handful of heroes who would recognize me. Though I guess the media coverage of me trying to destroy Centurion Tower made it a bit more obvious these days.

"Thanks."

"Did the infamous Damien Vex say thank you?"

I already regretted it. "I appreciate it."

"I expected you'd call by now."

My eyes narrowed. Powers related to darkness and I still couldn't see at night. I was about to ask his identity when his suit dissolved away, leaving a burly man in jeans and a t-shirt. Seconds passed as my brain tried to make sense of his identity.

"Won?"

"I'll never understand how a little fabric over the face conceals our identities."

It was a common joke in the powered community. They threw on some glasses and twirled a tuft of hair across the forehead, and suddenly, they had an alter ego. Now, when I replayed the conversation from the other night, I recognized his voice. I'd kick myself for it later. At least with identities revealed, I could resume the shameless flirting.

"I was going to call."

"The forty-eight-hour rule?"

"Am I the only person who hasn't heard of this unofficial rulebook?"

"It must be one of the things they only teach in public schools."

Had Won-Ho taken a jab at my schooling? The laughter erupted before I could compose myself. I buckled over, holding my stomach. Not only didn't he care about my status, he was more than capable of taking shots. If he were anybody else, I'd have eviscerated them. Won-Ho did it with such a flat tone anybody else would have missed the insult.

When it subsided, and I could finally suck in air, I landed next to him on the beam. It shouldn't surprise me that a lawyer with a soft spot for the downtrodden moonlighted as a superhero. However, it now brought up a different set of potential issues.

"Are you here to bring me in?"

He shook his head. "I could have done that while you were unconscious."

True. It wouldn't be my first time waking up from a bender behind bars. "Is this going to be one of those moments when you lecture me about my methods and show me the light?"

He scoffed, giving me a quick sideways glance. "I'm not here to pass judgment."

"Is this a good guy by day and villain by night situation?"

"Damien, do you see yourself as a villain?"

Did I do terrible things? I guess that remained a matter of perspective. Trying to destroy the Centurions had given me the title of supervillain. It was one of the more extreme examples, but even then, I had my reasons. It wasn't my fault that the rest of the world had been blinded by these supposed heroes.

"From time to time." It was as honest as I'd get.

"I've been around long enough to know the world isn't black and white."

"You are older than you look."

He gave me a pat on the shoulder. "You need to work on your compliments."

"You mentioned your father the other day. I should have guessed when the dates didn't line up." His hand lingered on my shoulder. "But if we're discussing looks, Won, you are one handsome man."

I caught the tension in his hand. He pulled away, folding his arms over his chest. Now that we established this wouldn't be a powered trading of fists, I had more questions I needed answered.

"Why have you been checking in on me?"

His posture dipped as his head hung low. For such a bulky man, he could shrink and hide his girth. Though, I couldn't imagine what about the question warranted this reaction? He wouldn't be my first stalker, but none of them had maintained such a carefully manufactured distance.

"I know one of the children in your club."

I nodded. "The charity. Now it makes sense why you gave my security the slip."

"It wasn't hard. You should reconsider their employment."

"Duly noted." I waited for a follow-up, but he remained silent. It reached the point where it had gotten awkward, and I couldn't stand it. "Is the kid yours?"

"No."

By the shortness of his response, I didn't quite believe him. He'd need to give me something before I relented on the issue.

"Family?"

He gave a slight nod. The confirmation answered one question but brought on a host of others. It meant that at one time, he had a child, and it could even answer the withdrawal from any attempts at flirting. Won-Ho had my attention, and while some of it might be simple curiosity, I wanted to know more, for nothing other than understanding him.

For whatever reason, the image of Clint answering a fake phone call came to mind. I couldn't believe what was about to happen. I'd murder anybody who discovered my attempt at humor.

"Ring. Ring. Ring."

The smoke receded, exposing my naked upper body. I held my pinky to my lip and thumb to my ear. Even in the dim city lights, I could see Won's eyebrow go up. Yes, I was a grown man playing telephone. If it wasn't the epitome of an olive branch, any chance with Won-Ho was a lost cause.

He raised his hand to his head. "Hello?"

"Won?"

"Who else would answer my phone?"

I gave him a playful punch on the shoulder before returning to my phone call. "I know this goes against the wildly popular unofficial men's rulebook?—"

"Hold on, I have another call."

I stepped off the beam, hovering in front of him. The smirk made me think he was far more devilish than he let on. "Won, would you do me the honor of?—"

"You can drop the formality." He gestured to my chest. "Seems overkill when you're half naked."

Did I catch him giving me the once-over? With a snap of the fingers, the smoke vanished. He couldn't resist glancing down. Now, I wish I had skipped the briefs. With my cock pressed against the fabric any longer and he'd see exactly how interested I was.

He leaned forward, coarse lips awkwardly pressed against mine. Impulsive, I liked that. I reached around his waist, pulling him closer. The stubble along his face pressed against my cheeks, getting a rise out of me. Won-Ho kissed as if it were a desperate act, a need to be fulfilled. Holding him tight, I returned the zeal, savoring the touch of his tongue. I bit down on his bottom lip, pressing against him so there was no mistake where I wanted this to end.

Won-Ho pulled away, just out of my reach. "No."

There was no emotion in the word. His ability to maintain a neutral tone made for an outstanding lawyer. It also made it impossible to tell if rationale caught up to his impulsive behavior.

I didn't chase.

"You have my number." As he spoke, a blue swirl of light wrapped around his legs and worked its way up his body. I only had a second to make out the dragon before he blinked out of sight. Anger flared at his abrupt departure. I wasn't used to not getting my way. It only made me want to try again.

"Nobody tells me no." I smiled. The game between us had officially started.