I arrived home sometime before dawn and slipped in through the back with my keys.
Candice was in the living room, finishing up the morning vacuuming, when she spotted me.
"Back already?"
I sighed. The trip took entirely too long—and not long enough. Collapsing into a chair, I gathered myself for a moment before speaking.
"I'm going to need to disappear for a while," I said. "I'm trying to be done with Gotham, but Gotham isn't done with me."
"What happened?" she asked, setting the vacuum down and taking a seat beside me.
"Let's just say my abilities kind of run in the family," I muttered. "My biological father was this super-powerful meta who may or may not have started a secret society. That same society killed him. Now, they're after me."
"Jesus," Candice breathed, pulling me into a hug. "Kind of puts some of my problems into perspective."
I withdrew gently. "What kind of problems?"
She hesitated. The words tumbled out with a strained smile, her body soaked in fear.
"I found out the reason why my boss hired me."
"He's handsy," I said, trying not to let the anger seep into my voice. "And you don't want me to take care of it."
She nodded, exhaling with relief. "I didn't know how to tell you."
I smiled. "It's fine. You don't need me to fight your battles. But the offer still stands."
She gave me a tight squeeze. "You're going to make some girl very happy someday…"
"Assuming I don't get myself killed first," I added.
"I didn't say that…" she admitted with hesitation.
And I laughed.
"But you were thinking it."
Reading people was a side benefit of high perception. I started noticing it when I hit 50, but now it was practically invasive. I could smell fear, taste doubt, and spot lies without even knowing how I knew.
It was how I knew Mom was nervous.
"When do you leave?" she asked.
"I don't know yet," I said. "But I don't plan to drop out of school. The official cover should be home-schooling, and I'll complete all the assignments and schoolwork to make that even mildly believable."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you even bother at this point."
"It's something to do," I admitted. "And it shouldn't be hard to manage. It's just schoolwork."
Besides, it'll be a welcome distraction from the work that comes next.
I needed to call Shady Slim. If anyone had contacts in underground smuggling, it was him.
I was open to moving anything non-lethal. Art, corporate secrets, rare weapons, paintings… even people, provided they checked out.
I had the capital to start recruiting, and an entire planet to scour for the right talent.
Ideally, they'd have meta-powers, but I almost preferred it if they didn't. Once I was certain the Block Buster Serum was safe, I could strengthen them all.
Might not even need a Binding Vow to keep them loyal at that point, but I was still going to make the ask.
On the way back, I've also been thinking tons of about Selina Kyle. She targeted collectors and elites from around the world, and then sold her acquisitions to the highest bidder.
That kind of notoriety bought you clout. And clout gets you into rooms you have no business being in.
Experimental weapons, biological enhancements, and magical artefacts...I could get it all and grow so powerful, the sorcerers wouldn't dare cross me.
But all that came later. But for now, I had to focus on the ports and borders.
That's where I'll find the competition.
POV: Lily
So this is Austin?
I raised a brow, irritated, as I surveyed the street before me. People bustled past, skyscrapers clawed at the sky, and the sun beat down like a curse. I was dressed in black, shaded beneath an umbrella, trying to keep the too-bright sun away from my pale, pale skin.
It used to burn on contact. Now, it merely stung if I stayed out too long.
Pile the skin defect atop the cancers I'd developed at ten, and I'd practically had one foot in the grave when she found and saved me.
Artisan was my everything—vows or no.
"You lost, darling?" a voice asked from beside me.
I turned. The voice belonged to a tall man with a smile that was a little too wide and a glint of calculation in his eyes.
He fancied himself a predator.
"Just taking in the new city," I said. "Austin is a lot hotter than I expected."
"British, huh?" he noted. "Miss the milder weather?"
"Was the umbrella and my ash-white skin not a dead giveaway?"
He laughed. "Quick as a whip. I like that in a woman. What do you say I show you around? We could start with my favorite restaurant."
"Tempting," I hummed, "but only if you show me a local school first. I'm supposed to start there next week."
The man blinked. "You're a student?"
"And old enough," I emphasized. "Is that going to be a problem?"
His grin widened a touch too far. "I won't tell if you won't."
"Excellent," I said.
It would be a pleasure killing him.
POV: Julius
With a light sprint, I vaulted up the walls of Flannegan's three-story home, stopping just outside Finn's bedroom window.
He was asleep—and, like the dumbass he was, had left the window open.
Easing it further, I slipped inside—masked, of course—and shot the sleeping giant with a tranq dart.
It took some searching, but I found the stash beneath a few loose floorboards under his bed.
Over 30 vials. Enough to last him months of rigorous training.
Not nearly enough for me.
I needed more venom. A lot more.
If only I hadn't burned it all down… the bar, the labs—everything.
During our little chat, Hector let it slip that there were other lieutenants like him. Men who were hedging their bets. But none had taken the initiative to cut the venom like he had.
They were likely out, or selling it at insane markups. Either way, it wasn't sustainable.
No. If I wanted a proper supply, I had to go straight to the source.
Santa Prisca.
I grumbled.