Hellion.
A boom went off in the bank, shaking the street. They had fired the charges to enter the vault. I charged across the street, sliding across the hood of a car and landing on the sidewalk. The suit had been worth the investment. Thedesigner had gotten every piece of the body armor perfect. With a slight flex of muscle, the color bled across the fabric. In the bank window, I watched as I vanished, the colors shifting until I was all but invisible.
I reached for the batons on my hips. After being cooped up in the office all day, I needed fresh air. By the time I left, the tray of brownies had been decimated. Janet even left a thank-you note, a satisfying miracle. I walked out of there with my head held high, exhausted but convinced my co-workers valued me.
Hellion didn’t have co-workers. He didn’t wear a proverbial mask and force himself to smile for acceptance. Putting on the suit should feel bulky, constricting even. As every snap locked into place, the weight vanished. Hellion wasn’t a secret identity—he was me with no facade. The eager anticipation before the fight…thisis who I was meant to be.
The window shattered.
Three, just as the henchman had confessed. Two lackeys wearing white tank tops and cargo pants with tool belts hugging their waists. I should have guessed with a name likeThe Rivets, but their accessorizing was a little on the nose. Their boss appeared inside the bank, nearly eight feet tall and wielding a sledgehammer. Without a doubt, they called him Sledge. With smug expressions, they sauntered onto the sidewalk, crushing glass underfoot.
The fight was when I felt most alive.
I was already in motion when I threw the right baton.Spinning through the air, it smashed into Hammer’s nose. They didn’t have time to react as I spun, heel driving into Screw’s face, followed by a crack of the baton. Both would need nose jobs when they got settled in prison.
I couldn’t change the color of the suit fast enough to stay hidden. It turned blood-red, partially for effect, partially to hide the inevitable stains. I stayed in motion. Spinning, I swept Screw’s feet out from under him, and as soon as he hit his knees, I drove my knuckles into his jaw.
Sledge dropped the black duffle bags. Jumping through the window, he tried catching me with a cheap punch. I leapt out of the way, tucking and rolling toward Hammer. Don’t worry, bloody bestie, I hadn’t forgotten you. I smashed the baton against his kneecap. Cracked and broken, he roared. I let him grab my arm. With a fast thrust, I smashed the hardened cowl of my suit against his nose. Definitely broken.
I heard the scrape of the sledgehammer. It sliced through the air with ease. I dropped to the sidewalk as it passed harmlessly overhead. It missed me, but it hit something that made a wet, squishy sound. When I glanced up, Hammer was gone—the top half, at least.
I rolled over just in time to see Sledge raise the hammer overhead. I rolled again, barely dodging. It slammed into the sidewalk, the ripple sending me slamming into a parked car. The goons were unemployed construction workers dedicated to a life of crime. For whatever reason,they had picked their thematic schtick, but Sledge… he was a bona fide super.
“Hellion,” he said. Somebody knowing my name came as a surprise. “I was hoping you’d show up.” He tapped the end of the sledgehammer in his hand as if it weighed nothing. Super strength. It wouldn’t be my first time tangoing with somebody stronger than me. I craved a challenge. Henchmen were fun, but they didn’t get my blood pumping.
I could have blinded him or thrown up a barrier of black air, making my escape easier. Those were tricks Tint used when he fought alongside Wyatt and Orion. They weren’t flashy, but they got the job done. Other than the suit, color changing wasn’t allowed. Hellion wasn’t a B-rate hero like Tint. I much preferred getting close and personal, even with a man capable of tearing me in half.
Sledge sauntered forward, taking his time. Little me. Barely a blip on the radar. He had come to rob a bank, hoping to draw me out. Plenty had wanted a piece of Southland’s protector, but they all wound up in the same place.
I chucked my other baton, aiming for his face. He moved faster than expected. The wooden handle of his sledgehammer blocked the attack, sending it spiralling to the side. He sneered, convinced he had gotten the best of me. I got to my feet, staying low to the ground.
“No more toys,” he said. “The bounty on your head is twice what’s in the bank.”
Bad guys underestimating me had become my greatest strength.
I opened my hands, palms out. The electromagnetic gauntlets fired to life, both bloody batons returning to my hands. He drew the hammer overhead in a quick motion. I moved quicker. One baton cracked against his kneecap; the other, in an upward swing, caught him in the testicles. He let go of the hammer and focused on protecting the family jewels.
As he buckled over, I leapt straight up. Fists clutching the baton, I drove my knuckles into his cheek. Blood and spit smacked against the car window. I pivoted and drove my elbow into the other side. Even as he tried reaching for me, I ducked low, hooking the batons behind his knees and pulling.
Sledge’s legs flew out from under him, leaving him on his back. He reached for the hammer, but there was no fight left in the man. He had spent too long relying on strength when he should have been working on his endurance. Overall, two stars. This had barely been worth coming out of the shadows.
“Who owns the bounty?”
Sirens. The cops were earlier than usual. I thought I had time to break a few fingers and get answers. With a swift kick,his head jerked to the side, and he went unconscious. It didn’t matter. The fact that Vanguard’s underworld feared me was satisfaction enough. I wanted them all to know that at any moment, Hellion could appear and unleash… well… hell.
My pocket vibrated.
I secured my batons, convinced I’d have to scrub them when I got home. Pulling out my phone, I was surprised to see a text from my boss’s boyfriend.
Ricardo: Thanks for offering to help.
Ricardo: The investigator arrives at nine. Sharp.
I wandered toward the alley, my suit shifting from red to black as I slipped into the shadows. Henchman number one hadn’t woken up. Pity.
Helping Ricardo would score me points with Arthur. I’d do anything for Arthur, and if his boyfriend needed me to help oversee a government agent and clean the riffraff from his organization, of course, I’d pitch in. As my breathing returned to normal, I did the only thing I could think of. I put the mask back on.
Deep breath.
