Page 193 of Villainous Intent

The Crucible.

I grabbed a backup mask. The HUD flickered on. Data streams. Location markers. Weapon status.

A cold part of my mind spoke. This is necessary. She has to die. If she truly is a Warden, she could expose you. She could take your power from you. Everything you’ve built, everything you’ve planned, all of it would crumble.

I paused.

The ruthless calculus I’d always lived by was clear. Annie represented a threat to everything I was. Everything I’d fought to become. If she could negate my powers, if she could strip away what made me extraordinary, wasn’t that worse than death?

I’d spent my childhood being medicated into mediocrity, my brilliance dimmed by drugs meant to make me “normal.” I’d sworn never to be vulnerable again.

And now the woman I wanted held the genetic key that could destroy everything.

The part of me that had kept me alive, kept me rising through the ranks, screamed that this was fate’s gift. Let Dread eliminate the threat. Let him do the dirty work. I could even play the grieving lover afterward, swear vengeance, and build my reputation further. It would be the perfect narrative.

But what kind of monster would I be to abandon her?

The kind of monster I’d always claimed to be, whispered that cold voice. A Villain. Isn’t that what you wanted?

I stood frozen between two versions of myself. The calculating Villain I’d crafted and the monster who’d fallen for someone despite himself.

“Fuck that,” I snarled, already moving toward the launch bay.

I am a selfish man. A bad man. A liar who’s built his entire existence on deception. I’ve killed, destroyed lives without remorse, and manipulated everyone who’s ever gotten close to me.

But I fucking loved Annie Bishop.

Loved her stubborn adherence to senseless rules. Loved how she bit her lip when thinking. Loved the way she looked at me like I was worth something beyond power or intellect.

Let her ruin me. Let her take everything. Hell, let her take the genius that defined me, if that’s what it took.

I’d rebuild from nothing.

If she survived.

If I wasn’t too late.

I couldn’t lose her. Not to Dread. Not to anyone.

CHAPTER 40

ANNIE

Dread moved forward.

“Let’s make this fun,” he said, his voice soft with anticipation. “Let’s play a little game.” The shadows at his feet rose higher, coiling around his legs like eager pets.

“Hide and seek,” he whispered. “I’ll give you a five-minute head start. Run anywhere in this little mock city. Hide wherever you want.” His eyes flared brighter. “And when I find you, and I will find you, I’m going to take a little piece of you. Just a little one. Then we’ll play again.”

Despite the numbness that had fallen over me, I felt sick. He was a cat playing with a mouse until there was nothing left but bloody scraps.

“Run.”

I bolted before the word fully registered. The mock city stretched before me, empty buildings, fake storefronts, all designed for Supers to practice urban combat. Now it was my killing ground.

My feet pounded against the pavement as I darted between buildings, lungs already burning.

I ducked into an alley, pressing my back against cold brick. The power dampener cuff felt impossibly heavy on my wrist and fucking useless.