Damsel[ed]: Some Rescue Required (#2 of the Damsel[ed] series)

Chapter Forty-One: Back in Action

Jaylin.

I toss the bottle over my shoulder and duck.

"Huh?" the hero squeaks, but her hands snap out in front of her like a baseball catcher's and the bottle lands snuggly in her grip. Heaven groans on the table, her fingers twitching. The woman swings for me. I duck her blade and ball myself low, tumbling under her couch. In this boring beige room with its boring beige furniture, that's the best I can think of doing. My ears ring from the ticking of the clock and my nose crinkles from the smell of tarter sauce.

"Do you have a knife?" I ask the girl, dodging the cracks of the woman's whip. Here, my size is a boon instead of bane, though I don't find myself trapped under couches very often. The woman curses and I roll, coarse carpet itching where I land. Bits of cracker and plastic dig into my exposed skin while the odors of unwashed socks and foot cream fog up my nose. I breathe in deep. It's great to smell something, even something terrible, just to reassure myself I'm alive.

"Uh," the girl says, "I have a pocket knife, for cutting through ropes and stuff."

The woman drops to her hands and knees in front of the couch. I squirm back, wriggling on my hips. The dark of the woman's eyes sear into mine, a smirk twitching on her saggy lips. My heart slams against my chest. "Let me out!" it seems to cry as I brush a spider off my shoulder. "I never signed up for this!" Her blade flashes and I pull back, searching over her shoulder and silently begging for the girl to see me. I could use backup right now.

"It's been a long time since I've killed a super," Maggie says with a low chuckle. As I scramble deeper down in my huddle, strands of my hair catch a bar below the couch and I force back a yelp. It tears at my scalp as she touches the blade to the underneath of my chin. The brush of metal is cool and goosebumps ripple down my arms. All I can I think about is Margot Mclaren, Mayor Curtis's political opponent. During the election, she was found dead under her bed. Someone laced her from head to toe in cuts drawn up so precisely she felt nothing when she died. Her lover nearly died too from a heart attack. He had left the room for a bottle of champagne and returned to find the lamb's wool sheets bled red and his lover dead. Maggie the Reaper almost choked on laughter when she told me the details over coffee.

"He didn't die," she had said, flipping open a soggy cigarette carton. She lit up and offered me a cig, and I had to take my mask off to accept. Jacob never taught me how to smoke, but he wouldn't have minded my partaking under the circumstances. The rules are simple. If a villain offers you a cigarette, you take it. Otherwise, you offend their hospitality, and you never offend a villain's hospitality. I can remember few details from Maggie's story. I had to focus on keeping my expression cool as I gagged on the smoke. "He was a super. Can you imagine? Mclaren, the one preaching the dangers of 'unchecked' supers had one for a plaything. I almost wish I hadn't killed the woman so she could see for herself. But I s'pose it doesn't matter, does it? I had his powers harvested. The police are still scratching their heads. Since they can't technically fault Liz Curtis for the deaths, she was still in the running. Fallout owes me one, Cleo? Clementia? Ah, Catalyst. You tell Jacob if he wants my services, it'll cost double Fallout's best offer."

I force the same cool look I gave her all those years ago, back then trying not choke on smoke, now trying to hide her my fear. The woman tilts her head back, watery eyes flashing like warning lights. Her fists clench and unclench around her weapons. Smooth leather and chipped wood. "What's the formal way again, dearie? A stab to the heart? That'll end it nice and quick."

I raise an eyebrow. "You want to end it quick?" I force my mouth to arc into a smile. Jacob told me there are ways to kill supers, even ones with rapid healing, the lot of us stronger ones. "No, ma'am. If I were you I'd gut me. Let me die over and over again."