Not that he normally minded what she wore—quite the contrary. But today, her clothes were hardly reassuring.
“Thank you all for coming together on such short notice. You may have seen the attack on a local bank last night on the news. I’m here to confirm what most of you have probably already guessed: We have a new super villain on our hands.”
He waited for the buzz to die down, giving them a moment for the idea to settle in before he continued. “His name is Howler. This one is going to require a small team with specialized skills. As for those of you not on the team, The Council is going to ask that you do whatever you can to avoid him. He’s dangerous. Instead, keep your ears open and if you hear anything let me know.”
The crowd murmured at the order, but this time he didn’t wait for the noise to die down before raising an arm, palm out, to silence them.
“Trust me when I say this Howler isn’t something most of us are equipped to deal with. He was in the New York City area for two weeks, hitting several banks during that time. Supers in the area weren’t able to bring him in.” The crowd went completely silent for a moment, and then exploded.
“New York couldn’t take him down?” The Panther called, his voice a growl that made it unmistakable.
“I’ve never heard of New York not being able to take down a villain,” Speed said.
“If New York wasn’t able to take him down, how can we?” Violet’s voice carried an edge of panic. He had to stifle that emotion before it spread.
“Because,” Justice said, voice set loud to carry over the din, “we have the only superhero in the country with the unique ability needed to defeat Howler. Our very own Silencer.”
Justice waved her over as the calm broke and a slew of voices overran the room. Not bothering to make sure she followed, he walked through a doorway that led to the back offices of the Superhero League building.
Brenda gave Char an apologetic grin over her shoulder. She acknowledged her friend’s phone-to-ear motion with a quick nod, and then hurried after Justice. Doing her best to ignore the assessing glances of the other superheroes, she made her way to the door he had disappeared through. The looks she caught out of the corner of her eye were mostly surprised, and a few were openly derisive.
Violet stood near the doorway and stepped in front of her as she approached, forcing Brenda to meet her gaze. The purple-adorned woman’s arms were crossed in front of her body, and her expression was the one Brenda had hoped to avoid. If her face had been covered with doubt, even scorn, Brenda could have handled it—treated her with the same sarcastic sharp tongue she held at the ready ever since she could remember. But Violet’s brows drew together with worry, her thin lips turned down in a mournful expression.
“Dear,” she began, voice dripping with sympathy, “don’t you let them force you into anything. There’s no shame in admitting you aren’t strong enough to face this villain.”
Not strong enough? How dare this woman look at her with pity in her eyes, assuming she had already failed before she’d been given the chance to try. What did she know, anyway? If Justice thought she would be able to handle the guy, she could, right?
The knowledge that he indeed trusted her to help take out this super villain hit her, and a weight lifted from her chest. She could do this. She would do this. She’d show Violet and every other superhero out there who doubted her that she was as capable as they were.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. She stepped around the older woman and strode down the hallway.
Brenda made her way past a drinking fountain and almost passed the small office where Justice leaned against a heavy oak desk in the middle of the room. The room itself was tastefully decorated, much nicer than the common area where the general meetings were held. Was this his office? The unevenly stacked papers seemed random in their placement, and the chair behind the desk was oversized.
His hard expression met hers when she turned her gaze away from the decor. “What? I’m not allowed to look around?” Yes. Definitely his office.
“We need to get started hunting this guy, but your attire is….” He trailed off, but he might as well have said what he meant. She recognized that cool look of dismissal. The same expression was often carried in the eyes of other superheroes, women mostly. One glance at her stylish outfit and people decided she was nothing but fluff—all boobs and no brains.
“My attire is just fine for my normal superhero duties,” she replied, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. “Are you going to tell me what I need to know about this case, or give me fashion advice? And let’s be honest, you’re not exactly qualified for the latter, are you?” She eyed his clothing as she spoke. His outfit wasn’t bad; in fact, it looked quite perfect on him, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. And he was no fashionista; she didn’t like him judging what she wore. So what if she usually dressed for fashion instead of necessity? It wasn’t like the Superhero League ever gave her jobs that required real uniforms. She waved at parades. Talked to kids about a superhero’s life. Volunteered at community blood drives.
How was she to know they’d assign her an important case tonight?
“Like I said, he calls himself Howler. His powers seem to operate in a straightforward but effective manner.” Justice pushed off the desk and moved around to grab a folder off the top. Flipping it open, he read aloud, “He emits a scream that strikes a unique decibel and tone, one which almost instantaneously knocks out anyone within a long range—several hundred yards if there aren’t any barriers between him and his target.”
Brenda’s mouth went dry, and she swallowed a couple of times before she spoke. “I take it superheroes are not immune.”
It wasn’t a question, not really. But Justice responded like it was. “No, but The Council is hoping that your ability to block sound waves means you are.”
She’d never heard her ability to turn her hearing off described quite like that. If she’d thought her mouth dry before, it was like a desert now. She raised her hand, index finger extended, and then turned and walked back down the hall where she’d come in. She could still hear a quiet rumble from the conference room, but guessed that most of the superheroes had left. The water from the fountain was cold on her tongue, and as it slid down her throat, her pulse slowed.
Ever since her abilities began to reveal themselves when she was thirteen years old, she’d hoped for something amazing. Her thirteen-year-old self had been convinced that if she showed a useful talent, it would gain the attention of her parents, pull them from their busy superhero schedules to focus on her. But hers had proved to be nearly useless, like powers were more often than not. And four years later when her brother’s power showed itself, she was almost beyond caring that his capacity to fly exceeded even the usefulness of their parents’ abilities. Almost.
When she rounded the corner back into the office, Justice again leaned against the desk. Did he never use the expensive-looking office chair behind it? Somehow she doubted it, and the vision of his constant leaning on the desk while trying to do paperwork or research on the Internet flashed in her mind.
“Something funny?” he asked. Without waiting for a response he added, “If you’ve assuaged your thirst, we need to get on the road.”
“Where are we going?”
He grinned, but she knew the pleased expression wasn’t for her. “To get the bad guy.”
Chapter Two
The bank’s orderly and clean appearance would have led Brenda to doubt that it had been recently robbed by a super villain, but then this wasn’t a typical bad guy they were dealing with. He used the power of his voice to incapacitate the people around him, thereby making it easy enough to walk in and take what he wanted without much damage to the structures he robbed. A far cry from the super villain norm, since they generally smashed their way into wherever they wanted to be.
The vault door stood ajar, and though no people milled around, she was willing to bet that there had been when he’d robbed it. No wonder they had such a difficult time catching him. He didn’t even need the cooperation of the bank personnel if he came during the daytime. Many banks kept their vaults unlocked during business hours, only setting timed locks at night when the employees were no longer there to watch the money.
She walked to the vault and peeked in. A smaller safe sat inside. It held the cash and was accessible with a key. Howler had probably grabbed it from a teller or bank manager’s neck or belt after he knocked them out. Simple.
“When did this happen?” she asked Justice.
“Tonight, right before closing.” He walked around from the customer area behind the counter so he could check the vault, too. Hard lines cut into his face as the slight frown he’d been wearing since they left the League’s headquarters deepened. “We would have been here sooner, but I didn’t have my cell on me during the meeting.”
That was probably on purpose. Tracking via cell phone wasn’t something she worried about, as no reporters stalked unimportant superheroes, but for someone like Justice, it might lead them right to his secret identity. Although unlikely he gave out the number to just anyone, he was the type to always take precautions regardless. Which was why they’d hiked several blocks to where he had concealed his Porsche.
“What’s the rush? Doubt we could have moved fast enough to catch him here anyway.”
“The Council didn’t decide to have me work this case for my super strength, sweetheart.”
The derision in his voice made her face burn, and she had the sudden urge to wipe the condescension out of his tone.
“So you’re here to track him so I can take him down, huh? Try not to get in my way then.” Without waiting for his reply, she turned, careful to keep her weight on her toe as she swiveled, and left.
She paused outside of the door, and then leaned against the cool brick. She was tired, and her feet were killing her. Damn these boots anyway. She’d toss them out, but they were too cute. She should have realized why he was with her maybe, but he didn’t have to point it out the way he did.