Chapter 26 Cold Night.

Chapter 26: 26 Cold Night.

Cold night in Metropolis as I parked the car and looked across at the restaurant.

The date of the big ’heist’ was coming up, but that didn’t mean I could spend all my time with Glacia.

Training her ate up a lot of the day, but I still had my own work to deal with.

Freelance villainy was very feast or famine.

When monsters from the deeps were assaulting the bay area and bringing down the property values, or some wizard had opened a portal to hell above city hall, the public didn’t really have the appetite to watch a hero beat up the magnet guy robbing the local bank.

Likewise, when things were quiet and all the real villains were either plotting their schemes or still breaking out of jail and the local asylums, there was a lot of demand for my services.

It had been more of the latter in the last few weeks.

After Captain Fantastic had busted up that drug company run by vampires selling drugs that turned people into zombies (again,) things had been pretty quiet.

So I’d lined up a few interviews with some heroes and their agents before my meeting with Lacey had thrown things for a loop.

It would have been unprofessional to break the meetings, and once Glacia finished her debut I’d be in the clear anyway.

So after finishing up another day of training her in the railyards and dropping her off, I headed to Breathe’s Restaurant.

There were a number of reasons I interviewed potential new clients at a restaurant. One, it was pretty professional.

Two, like breaking up with someone, it usually prevented heroes from making a scene if I said no.

Three, it saved me from having to cook that night, and if the meeting went well the agent usually picked up the tab.

And four, if despite everything things went badly, I’d have no lack of weapons on hand.

Nothing made a person reconsider starting a fight than a hundred forks and steak knives suddenly hovering around me, and ready to give them a very bad day.

I’d gone to Breathe’s before, and liked it.

It was in that nice medium area of dining, where you could get in without a reservation, the food was good enough that everyone got something decent, and the prices weren’t absurd.

I didn’t need the hassle of trying to reserve one of the ritzier restaurants, and no one would take me seriously if I hashed out a contract in a Wendy’s—no matter how much I loved their sauce, so it all worked out.

"Hmm..." I mused thoughtfully pulling my jacket tighter. Someone was definitely watching me.

As I parked and stepped out the feeling didn’t go away.

I looked quickly around, but the street was pretty deserted.

Night was starting to fall, if you could call it that in Metropolis. Colour flared from neon signs and the windows of shops that never closed.

Cars flashed up and down the street and some panhandler was laying into a guitar like he was Led Zeppelin reincarnated.

He wasn’t actually half bad, I had to admit, though why he was wearing tinted glasses when it was getting dark out I couldn’t guess at.

But I didn’t see anything too obvious. And I didn’t feel any menace directed my way.

I usually trusted my instincts in that respect, last time I didn’t I died. But many a time it saved me from a hidden danger.

Standing around in the middle of the sidewalk wasn’t making much progress on that end, so with a shrug as if to toss off the lingering sense of unease, I finally went into Breathe’s.

As soon as I walked in I spotted who I was meeting.

A very white man in a tweed suit and tie was sitting at a table not far inside, his nose twitching and hands constantly moving like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

A lot of agents were like that, but that wasn’t what got me wary.

It was that the person with him was in full costume. I winced at the sight.

The guy was dressed up like a plague doctor with the beaked mask like a raven and a long red cloak.

The hood pulled up over his head probably cast him in a suitably intimidating light, but given he was sitting in a restaurant with three different kinds of forks I wasn’t exactly buying it.

I sighed. Well, I was here now. May as well check it out.

I walked up to the table, pulling back the chair and taking a seat. "You must be Simon Emmanuel," I said to the mousy man, extending my hand. "Miles, better known as Polaris."

Simon’s face sagged with relief and he eagerly took my hand, shaking it. "A pleasure, really. Thank you for meeting us. I am Simon. And ah, this is—"

"I am the Red Death," the hero said, his voice hissing weirdly from his mask.

Before I could make a snide comment on how generic that was, he launched into his backstory.

"Once, I was but a common researcher of deadly diseases. But then, in a freak accident, I was exposed to a virulent virus, which overheated my cells, giving me the ability to melt anything I touch.

Now," he said, picking up a spoon, a read aura burning in his gloved palm "I use my powers for good, battling the forces of evil. For they are the disease, and I am the cure!"

I watched as the spoon melted in his grasp to a puddle of drooling metal. Unfortunately, when life gave you idiots you couldn’t make idiot-ade.

Right. Well, this was probably a waste of time.

And a good illustration on the reason why I insisted on meeting not just their agent, but the hero too.

A lot of agents tried to hide their more problematic heroes when hiring a villain. But I never accepted that.

If you’re going to fight someone who throws around cosmic rays and trucks, you’d be insane not to look them in the eye first, especially when those eyes could soon be shooting heat rays at you.

A lot of freelancers got killed because they ended up dealing with an overzealous hero. Or they killed the hero, which was often a career ender anyway.

Sometimes things went wrong, and a lot of heroes thought villains like me existed solely to make them look good.

Which was, you know, true, but we weren’t there to die for them. Just lose. Except for the Grim Death, but he was already dead, so killing him was more an inconvenience than anything.

Still, I’d give them a chance, if only because I was hungry. "Uh huh," I said, picking up a menu. "Have you ordered yet?"

"Er, no. No. We were waiting for you," Simon said quickly.

"Right. I suggest the beef. It’s really good."

"We’ll try that," Simon said, smiling hopefully, no doubt thinking once the food arrived I wouldn’t be as quick to leave.

"Good choice. Now, what were you thinking for an encounter?" I said, glancing between Simon and Red Death. "Do you have any banks lined up? Maybe a jewelry store or something? Museums would be thematic, but maybe out of your means..."

"We were considering an auto show," Simon said.

I tsked. "That would be pretty expensive," I noted. "A jewelry store or a bank might be easier. The jewelry if we’re looking at a budget battle. Lots of valuable but durable items and a pretty enclosed space but with plenty of security cameras. Red Death might do better there."

Simon nodded raptly. His eagerness was good, but it felt a little desperate, which instantly put my guard up. "Quite right. Quite right. I believe we can figure something out."

"Good," I said, glancing back down at the menu. "I know a few stores that might be willing. I can put you in touch unless you wanted to find-"

"I would like to say that I do not think this is an effective use of my abilities," Red Death interrupted forcefully. "My heroic powers are not to be used on a whim, but only for the cause of fighting for truth and justice!"