Not Your Villain (Sidekick Squad #2)(58)

Voices ring out against the background of people working, and, through the glass wall of Stone’s office, Bells can see the man standing, arms crossed, in front of his desk. He looks exactly like his photo on the company’s holopage: tired and balding and scowling.

Two people are in his office. One wears a long coat, sunglasses, and large-brimmed hat. It would be comical, how obvious this disguise is, except Bells’ instincts are telling him danger. The stance, the way their hands on their hips are just so… it’s a very distinct pose, but Bells can’t recall where he’s seen it. It’s one of those times when, if Bells had more than a second to think, he’d figure out who’s wearing the disguise. The woman in the crisp button-up suit seems really familiar. If she wasn’t also wearing sunglasses, Bells could definitely place her.

Stone’s voice is firm. “Look, Cindy, it’s a powerful proposition, but I can’t help you. Without the support of the League I’m afraid…” he trails off and catches a glimpse of Bells in the hallway, and his eyes widen. “Abby Jones? But I thought we…” Stone brings his DED to his face and speaks into it. “Security needed on floor seventeen. I thought we had this asset locked down already for levera—”

“I’m not done with you,” the overly disguised person grabs Stone’s shoulder and turns him around. Her hand curls in a gesture Bells has seen immortalized in comic books—Cindy is Captain Orion. She’s about to fry Stone with her lightning.

Heart pounding, Bells’ sets his DED to record and dashes forward, ready to pull Stone out of the way. But, when Orion flexes her wrist, nothing happens.

Stone laughs. “You really think you scare me?”

There’s no lightning, despite Orion’s gesture, and she scowls.

“You don’t think I’ve got a personal cache of tantalum ready in case any meta-human tries to—”

The second woman gasps, and stares right at Bells as he crosses the doorway.

Bells looks down and realizes that he’s himself again. There’s a painful blow to the back of his head, and everything goes dark.





Ch. 11...





Bells wakes up with a headache. Turning over to get a few more minutes sleep before he has to get to class, he finds nothing but a cold, hard surface: no blankets, no pillows, no sheets.

His eyes snap open. He’s lying on the floor of a dingy room. It smells of damp wood and mold. The paint on the walls has peeled in places, and one of the walls is not a wall at all; it’s a row of iron bars looking out into—what is this, a warehouse?

Bells sits up, willing himself not to panic. The last thing he remembers is sneaking into Monroe Industries and then… Captain Orion.

Now… he’s here. He reaches for his DED but it’s gone from his wrist. A chill runs down his spine. What’s the point of stealing my DED? Without his access code the device is nothing but a useless hunk of metal and plastic.

Bells gets to his feet and begins to pace. In the corner of the room, a small camera watches him like an eye, swiveling to follow his movements.

How long was he asleep? Bells tries to get his bearings, but the warehouse could be anywhere. Where did she take him?

He shivers from the cold, and a flurry of snow blows through an open window on the other side of the warehouse. I’m definitely not in Nevada. Where the hell am I?

Footsteps. Bells stands close to the bars and notices a handle on the other side. He could shift, but he has no idea what form would give him an advantage. He needs to save his strength. The only advantage he has right now is his wit, and he’s got to play it cool. He can’t let them know how terrified he is.

On the other side of the bars, someone appears. It takes Bells a minute to recognize her. Her face is gaunt and hollow; her jaw is set in grim determination.

“Claudia,” Bells says, feigning calm. “Fancy meeting you here. How can I help you?”

“You? Help me?”

“Well, yes, I mean, it’s a strange place we seem to have found ourselves in, this abandoned warehouse. Andover doesn’t get much snow, so I’m guessing we’re in one of the Northern regions.” He leans casually against the wall and points at her with exaggerated cheer. “Seeing as you’re on that side and I’m on this side, would you please lift that handle so we can get out of here?”

Claudia looks so different from the girl in the holos at the Trans’ house. She has bags under her eyes, and her hair is a mess of fading dirty-blonde streaks revealing black roots.

“Okay, then, how can I help you?” Bells says, as if she’s a customer at the restaurant, and he’s taking her order.

Claudia pulls her fluffy down coat tighter around her body. Her eyes are narrowed. “You are the strangest person I’ve ever met. You’re a prisoner here. You must know that.”

Bells shrugs. He is worried, but there’s no point in giving her the upper hand by letting her know how he really feels.

Claudia glances at the camera above her head, steps forward, and pulls something out of her pocket. It’s a small metal tin that rattles as she pops open the lid. She takes out something small and green, then thrusts her hand through the bars. “Here.”

“What is it?” Bells’ cheerful mask slips. Is it poison? If she wanted to hurt me, she would have done so already, right?