Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required

Chapter 3: The Knight in Purple Armor

So there's that pill to swallow.

I bite back a squeak. Oh, here we go again, let's threaten Angelos because he isn't a nervous wreck already. The ground grows farther and farther away and I force myself not to look down. This night sucks, I want to go home, and living would be a nice bonus.

My jaw throbs. The sky slips into a gentle pink, the stars fading like a finished slide in an amateur's PowerPoint. It's so bright out, the wind so gentle. It doesn't match what's happening.

Galaxy swings into my field of vision. This is the closest I've ever come to Her Highness, and oh, yeah, she's hot. I mean, her body's okay and all, but there's something else about her that screams, 'Hey! I'm sexy!' Maybe it's her pose. Maybe it's her suit. Or maybe it's Maybelline, whatever that means.

I squint at her costume. People say it's magical, built from the power of 'good'. Frankly, that's more bogus than coffee curing cancer, but since this is a world post-physics, I see why people believe that. At school, when we ask about superpowers our bio teacher just shrugs and says, "We don't know. People shouldn't be able to fly, but they do, okay? They just do." And this guy taught, like, three college courses, so there's the proof in the pudding for you if that means anything.

Each plate of Galaxy's purple armor flexes with her easy breathing. I strain to read the star patterns engraved on them, each carving so painfully detailed she must have contacted NASA in their design. "Cut the tough act." Her words slice the cool air like throwing knives. "You wouldn't kill the kid if he begged you―"

The villain coils her arm even tighter around my neck. I gasp, choking for a gulp of air. I try to suck up the pain by focusing on the sky. It's pretty, I tell myself, so rosy against the white city lights. It'll look awfully nice in the newspaper photos by my obituary.

"Oh, sweetie, you wouldn't want to bet on that."

"First," Galaxy growls, her eyes flashing like the flare of a flintlock. "Unless you savor the thought of waking up in the penitentiary with my name tattooed on your face, don't call me that. Second, if you kill the boy, you die. He's the only barrier between you and me, sweetie. You wouldn't dare do anything that stupid."

Whoa, that doesn't sound like the Galaxy from the comics. I flinch in my kidnapper's arms.

"Aww," the villain coos. Who is this woman? Captain Courageous? She slides her fingers through my hair, and I spit with frustration. What am I, a long furred cat? I don't pump that "salon quality" over-priced shampoo in my hair for villains to pet me! "Galaxy's scared out of her little mind! Poor, pathetic princess. Imagine Snare getting a hold of the only―"

"Snare? You work with Snare?"

"The one and only."

Snare. I've never heard of it, but I bet that's the name a mustache-twirling supervillain who specializes in bear-traps or something. The pounding in my jaw fades, my ragged breathing evening out. I clench my fists. I'm not Sleeping Beauty or another piddly excuse for a fairy tale lead. They're crazy if they think I'll shut up while they fight over my fate. "Hey!"

Galaxy snaps her head towards me, her wild curls clawing at her long, medieval helmet. The villain groans behind me, and my words fire like bullets.

"I'm right here! No need to talk about me like I'm not! Also, I'm a human, not a scarf for your game of capture the flag!"

Galaxy blinks, her violet eyes so bright they flash like a cat's. She tilts her head, tossing me an amused look. I huff. She must think I'm so damsel-in-distress-y. As embarrassing as that is, I don't blame her one bit.

"You done?" My captor asks. Galaxy slips her fingers over her visor. The modern piece looks nothing like the rest of her Renaissance-flavored suit, but it still fits...perfectly.

"You're choking me." I yank my head back as much as I can. "I won't stop talking until you let go. This is really uncomfortable."

"Can't handle your own prisoner?" Galaxy places a hand on her hip. "You need a little supervillain 101."

The villain slackens her grip. I don't let logic or acrophobia have a say this time. I hurl myself forward, scrambling for an opening. For a split second, I feel strong enough to get away. Another adrenaline rush, another surge of electricity in my body, but the villain hooks her legs around mine and yanks me back. I'm still sore from when I hit her, my knuckles pounding and my hands shaking from the pain. To make the experience even more uncomfortable for me, she clamps her arm over the lower half of my face. Oh, great. Because that went well the first time!

Galaxy throws her head back, laughing like she's in the middle of a Scooby Doo rerun. It sounds cute and all, but I glare at her. Not that she's noticed or anything, but this isn't a TV show and the monster clutching me like I'm a freaking Yorkie-poo is very real. "There's a thing called duct tape," she says, "it's fundamental in hostage taking for a reason."

Nameless tenses against me. Huh. I must have made her look like a fool.

Well-whoop-de-freaking-I-don't-give-a-spit-doo.

I reach for at her elbow, clawing to get it out of my face. Stupid super-strength! I mentally punch her over and over, adding a CHING! sound effect each time I land a blow. Galaxy winks. "Especially when dealing with the chatty ones."

"I'm not chatty!" I shout behind the villain's sleeve, still clawing to get it out of my face. She grunts and eases back. I shoot Galaxy a begging glance. She only shrugs, studying me as if I'm some great mystery she needs to analyze or a math problem. I try to shut off the butterflies nesting in my stomach. If I weren't 'compromised' I'd remind Galaxy how I need help!

The villain strokes my hair again, flipping strands of it between her fingers. I break into a sweat. All I can think about is crawling into a hot shower and scrubbing all her supervillain germs off me. "Why, Galaxy. I think I'll take the advice," she says. She's practically purring, and for the first time tonight I think there's a smirk on her face to match the one on her mask. She sounds like Gats when he wins a bet and I have to do his homework for a week. The villain springs into motion. The jerk of flight sends shots of pain to my tightened muscles and practically yanks my joints apart. I hold my breath and count the whispy little clouds, hoping to soothe the pain. When that doesn't help, I take the not so manly alternative and scream.

"You sure you have the right guy?" Galaxy rockets behind my captor, the sound of her tearing through space only a hiss in my ringing ears. The villain grumbles something about how much of a pain I am when she shrieks and takes a nosedive. Her arms slip, and I worm free.

The empty air greets me with a cold slap. I grope for anything to hold, but I fall, kicking, flailing, and yeah, still screaming.

I gotta work on the masculinity thing.

"Hey, buddy! I got you!" Galaxy slingshots after me. I choke, aware of the air whooshing around me and my body tumbling through the empty space. She snatches me right out of the sky. It happens so fast I don't even see it. I just know one minute I'm spinning, and the next I'm not. I can feel her hugging me, and I'm hugging her back, my arms squeezed around her shoulders and my face pressed up against her armor. I don't want to let go. God, I'm alive. My entire body trembles, achy from the night's events. Galaxy saved me. I just want to stay in her arms forever, safe, breathing in polish and blood, polish and blood, over and over until I die. "I have you, I have you, you're okay, she can't hurt you, I promise," Galaxy soothes in her deep, sort of sexy voice. I blush. I'm acting like a little kid and I need to man up. She keeps flying, whirling higher and higher so my brain doesn't turn to mush from a sudden stop.