She woke in the dead of the night. She was alone in their bed.
She rose, pushing away the paperback lying on the bedsheets. She'd gone to bed waiting to talk to him only to fall asleep hours later. Not the first time it had happened; not anywhere close to the first. She moved through the corridors of their lair and home both, careful to avoid the countermeasures and protective wards he'd set up.
He was in his lab, of course- just where he had been hours ago. Hovering over an oversized weapon, tools gathered around him. He didn't look up as she entered.
"Are you still up?" She hated herself for the obvious question and hated herself even more when he didn't bother to reply. She repeated the question and this time he frowned and peered at her.
"I'm working on something. A new weapon."
"A gun? Just a gun?"
He chuckled. "Just a gun. But one that can fire very special bullets. The sort that can kill Archons. Or even Warded. Can you imagine?"
She stared at his cocky, arrogant grin and felt cold. "You said you wouldn't try to kill anyone."
"They escalated."
So did you
is what she didn't say. She merely said, "Please don't use it."
"We need to make them understand. That I'm not to be fucked with."
"Cody."
"What?" He didn't look up as he worked on the weapon.
She paused and took in a deep breath.
She wanted to say,
We don't need to do this.
She wanted to say,
This isn't what you promised me.
She wanted to say,
I'm getting scared.
She wanted to say,
I'm pregnant.
Instead she said, "Don't you just wish for a kinder world?"
"Baby, everything's fine. Trust me." And he grinned that grin again.
She managed to smile until she shut the door behind her.
***
Grey Sentinel opened his eyes and smiled.
Cody.
He had a name.
***
"I have you now."
No, that was crap.
"I have you
now
."
A little better, but he wasn't feeling it.
"
I
have you now!"
Too much. Too desperate, and they had a knack for smelling desperation.
Thomas Alburn, a.k.a. the Mad Maker, sighed into the mirror. He carefully adjusted his goatee and slicked back his hair. He smiled his best smile and murmured, "You can do this."
He stepped away from the mirror and looked up at the portrait on the wall. Cornelius Sharp, the first Mad Maker, smiled back at him past his domino mask. Thomas contemplated the man who's moniker he had inherited.
Cornelius Sharp, who once managed to steal the moon- and then return it, explaining to a baffled world that it was all just an experiment. Cornelius Sharp, who never served captured heroes anything less than a five-course meal while they were held in his hidden sky fortress of doom. Cornelius Sharp, who amassed billions in loot, gave it all away to charity and then stole it all again.
Thomas nodded at the man who's example of classic villainy had always inspired him. "Let's show them all."
"Talking to your boyfriend again?"
Thomas groaned and turned to the tall woman smiling at the doorway. "Dammit, Blastara. What did I tell you?"
"That your bedroom is a fortress of solitude." She laughed. "But seriously. I swear, the look on your face."
"Oh really?"
"Reminds me of my mum when she was having a serious case of the Catholics."
He sighed, looking at the tall woman with short green hair. "He was the epitome of-"
"Classy villain, I know." She smirked. "Are we good to go?"
"Absolutely." He repressed the urge to check his goatee one more time. "Let's go."
They walked through his lair, past the control room, past his lab. Into a relatively large, simple chamber of polished concrete.
Steel walls divided the chamber into a main corridor and six relatively sized alcoves. Small cots had been placed against the far walls. There was a faint shimmer at the entrance to each alcove- a carefully designed field of force that would ensure that whoever was inside the alcove couldn't possibly get out.
Cells. Intended to contain five very specific prisoners.
He walked into the room with a confident stride and swept out his hands. "At last! I have you know!"
Groans from all around him. Blastara loyally didn't roll her eyes.
"I can't believe," said a tall, good looking teenage boy clad in black, "that a loser like you actually captured us."
Thomas had taken on the moniker of the Mad Maker with every expectation of success. He was a genius inventor and a talented sorcerer. He was young, confident and driven. He saw a bright future of villainy- old school,
classy
villainy- ahead of him.
And then.
And
then.
The
brats
had gotten involved.
The Justice Five were a group of schoolchildren, granted powers by some cosmic source or another. They were arrogant and thoughtless in ways that only tweens could manage. They were overpowered and they
kept on beating him
.
He watched as his his villain career crashed and burned, sabotaged from the start by a group of kids. How could anyone take him seriously when half of his nemesis hadn't had their voice drop?
That had been six years ago. Six years of him promising himself he'd beat them and earn the respect he deserved. Six years of watching plan after meticulous plan fail, brilliantly designed robots and rituals torn up, of watching his reputation slide into the gutter and stay there.
He could have been a legendary villain.
If not for those
meddling kids.
Their leader, Black- strong enough to smash his way through every well-designed combat robot Mad Maker could summon- said, "Your goatee is all messy." His stupidly rugged features creased into an earnest frown.
"My goatee is
perfect
and you are my prisoner."
Green-fast enough to run circles around his summoned beasts- growled. "For now, you loser." She sighed, leaning her long, olive legs against the wall.
"For quite some time." Mad Maker laughed. "And besides, I only need you to stay my prisoners for a little while longer-"
Red- skilled enough to bypass practically every defence he could muster- groaned. "Blue, he's telling us his evil plan again. Make him stop!" He was slim and had probably been born with that arrogant sneer.
"-because in six hours, my weather control device will finally activate!"
"Let him keep going," said Blue, who was smart enough to see through every plan he came up with, "it'll just mean that it'll be easier to stop him when we break free."
"
If
you break free."
"
When