Big City Villain | BOOK ONE

Revamped Chapter Nine: Tip of the Iceberg.

"And that's what you get for thinking you can overpower me!"

The villain could hardly reply to me because he was writhing in pain and quickly losing consciousness. "I'll... get..."

"Nothing," I finished for him. I snatched the evidence and stashed it in the hidden pocket on my messily-laced boots. "Good gold, Vine, you can't take a hint, can you? I told you to leave me alone." I was still pretty mad at Vine, and for good reason. He had wrapped his signature thorny vines around me and almost killed me. Thankfully, other than a good scratch on my arm, I was pretty much unharmed.

I checked Vine's pulse when he finally passed out. Satisfied that he was still alive, I dragged his limp body further into the alley and propped him up in a corner. He'd wake up later, probably with a list of insults directed at me, but hey, at least I didn't try to kill him like he just tried to kill me. Benj is complaining about one little death threat, and here I nearly died for the second time tonight. He should try being a villain for a day.

I checked the time on my phone and found it was well past one in the morning. Welp looks like I broke my curfew. Again. Great. Maybe, hopefully, possibly Benj is asleep and is none the wiser. For all he and the parents knew, I was in my room studying and recovering from a pretty severe power-growing pain that had the audacity to interrupt a perfectly delicious dinner, which I was still salty about.

The whole situation with this City Sweeper had me worried. Even though I tried to play it cool, I was determined to find this villain and take him down before he could even so much as touch Benjamin. To burn off some of the frustration, I decided to cause some trouble around town and lure out some annoying villains. My plan didn't go as well as I wanted it to. I ended up more frustrated and, this time, with a nasty gash on my arm that wouldn't stop bleeding, but I found myself in a very convenient alleyway.

On one particularly sketchy, beat-up door, I jangled the doorknob, knocked three times, kicked four times, and tried the doorknob again for an unspecified amount of time. It wasn't a code knock; I was just tired, hangry, and impatient to get in. Besides, I could smell the lasagna and lasagna is my kryptonite. I took my mask off and stuffed it into my pocket before anyone could answer the door.

"Okay, okay!" The door swung open and revealed an impressive, bearded man named Kasim. He was the best chef King City had ever seen and the best informant. If there was anything noteworthy to be known, he knew about it and had all the details. Probably because he made comfort food that could make any villain open up and spill the beans.

His scowl melted the moment he recognized me. "Ah, Coal! Come on in."

"Thanks, Kasim." I limped in and hoped I wouldn't leave a mess through his busy kitchen, but this wasn't the first time I'd come to him for help with some random injury. "I uh... got into another... fight."

The sigh Kasim sighed would have been enough to blow away half of King City, but he merely placed his large hand on my head and guided me to the bathroom, though I could probably find it with my eyes closed by now.

"Hey, Coal! 'Nother injury?" One of the line cooks said without even looking up.

I stuck my tongue out at him in response.

"Boy, this is not a hospital," Kasim said, his voice low and deep but also marked with concern as he inspected the injury stretching across my upper arm.

I'm not sure who Kasim thought I was. I wasn't even sure if he knew I was a super. We met a few years ago when I was setting up a network of informants. I got a tip that he knew a guy who knew a guy, but it turned out he was the guy, the perfect word-of-mouth newspaper that has yet to betray my trust. I tried the mask thing with him, but he refused to help. No mask? No problems.