Page 184 of Villainous Intent

A blast clipped my shoulder, jerking me back to the present. The impact jarred my teeth, a sharp reminder that even idiocy could be dangerous if ignored.

Focus.

Besides, she was the one that had kissed me goodbye. I hadn’t kiss her goodbye. There was a difference. A fucking massive difference.

“Getting distracted, Villain?” Captain Righteous taunted.

“Just bored,” I replied, launching forward and forcing Annie from my thoughts.

Righteous was saying something about justice and honor. I wasn’t listening. I was calculating how quickly I could end this once the contractually obligated twenty minutes were up.

A notification flashed across my HUD.

Sparks

Are you busy?

Captain Righteous hurled another energy blast at my head. The trajectory was predictable and laughably easy to dodge.

“Respond: Not particularly,” I instructed my system while banking hard left.

We need to talk

Fuck. I might never have been in an actual relationship before, but even I recognized that particular code. “We need to talk” was universal shorthand for disaster. It was the precursor to demands and ultimatums.

That sounds ominous

I launched a counter-strike, a pulse of concussive force that sent Captain Righteous sprawling across the rooftop. He struggled to rise, his gold armor dented and scuffed.

I can meet you on the roof of the Tower. Security will stand down.

She didn’t correct me. She didn’t say “don’t worry.” And the roof of the Tower? Not somewhere more private? This was getting worse by the second.

Three minutes to finish this fight, two minutes for the obligatory villainous speech to the cameras, seven minutes to extract myself from the scene, eight minutes flight time to the Tower.

I’ll be there in twenty minutes

I’d give the cameras what they wanted, then get to Annie. And hope to hell that “we need to talk” wasn’t a threat to my plans.

I finished Captain Righteous with a perfectly calibrated hit and fired a final, showy blast into the HVAC unit behind him to give the news chopper their money shot.

“How long until the last Warden’s files are fully decoded?” I asked before launching into my speech for the cameras.

Seventeen minutes, twenty-two seconds flashed in the corner of my vision.

“Fuck,” I muttered. Not ideal timing, but it didn’t matter too much. Dread had the live feed I’d set up. If he was watching it, and I was certain he was, he’d see the files as soon as they were ready and take care of the issue himself.

Then I’d have the Tinkerer’s Hammer, kill Dread, and tell Annie that I’d eliminated the rogue. Everybody wins. Except Dread, obviously.

After I wrapped up, I immediately cut through the night air. The city blurred beneath me, lights smearing into streaks of color as I rocketed toward the Tower.

I hated the uncertainty and the way my stomach turned over. I hated that Annie had this power over me. Information was my shield. Preparation was my sword. With her, I had neither.

The Tower loomed ahead, its silhouette dominating the skyline. I slowed my approach, scanning for security measures out of habit.

Then I saw her, standing on the rooftop, illuminated by the blue and gold glow of the tower’s beacon. The wind caught her hair, pulling strands loose and whipping them around her face.

Something tightened in my chest, a sensation I was becoming uncomfortably familiar with whenever I saw her. A hunger. A possessiveness that had no place in my life.