Super?

As We Fade Into The Night

       It's been three days since Dave and Ollie first took me in. I've gotten more sleep than I have in months. I don't think I've ever felt so much at peace. Everything here is so comfortable. My wounds have almost completely healed, thanks to the rest I've received contributing to my healing factor.
        And that's how I know that I'm going to go crazy if I don't try and do anything to act upon Dave's revelation about Dominic's supposed survival of the car crash.
       The house is dark and quiet when I leave, and the stars are the only thing that light my way as I make my way over to Dave's rusted Chevy. I feel bad about taking it, and even worse about leaving them behind without letting them know where I'm going, but I know it's for their own safety. If they knew where I was going, they would try and stop me or maybe even go with me. And I can't let anything happen to them. I would never forgive myself.
       The engine purrs as I back out of the driveway, and I give the cozy little house one last glance before I drive off down the road. Only a few cars drift past me, because it's the middle of the night and you'd have to be crazy to want to stick around the streets of the city. Everybody knows that's when the villains hang around, stereotypically enough.
       A few men dressed in black are gathered around a lamppost with their backs turned to passerby, and they glance at me with a warning in their eyes as I rumble past. I ignore the pricking feeling at the back of my neck as I wind my way through the ghostly streets to the sketchy-looking pub sandwiched between a closed barber shop and a creepy antiques shop. As I'm coming up, I conjure a thick black fabric mask to cover the upper half of my face. I don't know yet if I can still trust these people I used to call allies.
       I park the Chevy a few blocks away for safety and make my way down the sidewalk, pulling my brand-new canvas jacket tighter around me in the cold summer night. A single crow watches me from its perch on the pub's roof.
      "It's Eris," I murmur up to the crow, not meeting its beady black eyes. I try my best not to flinch as the black bird swoops down in front of me. My time away from this life has made me soft.
       I look away as the bird's feathers shed onto the ground and it slowly morphs into a tall, black-haired man. Shape-shifters creep me out. But I'd like to think that they creep everyone out. I have yet to see a shape-shifter that became a hero. I think that speaks for some of their character, huh?
       "It's been a long while, Eris. We've seen the news. We all have. But we've also heard that Reggie ditched you. What are you up to, my friend?" He places a thin, cold hand on my shoulder, forcing me to meet his inky, narrowed eyes.
       "We're not friends. And I'm not here to chat with you, Crow, as interesting as your topics of conversation usually are. I need to speak to Bloodhound. Is he here?" I twist my hair over my shoulder, feeling uncomfortable under Crow's gaze of scrutiny. He watches me for a few long seconds before he finally speaks.
       "You know as much as I do how Bloodhound prefers to keep his facade of neutrality. Mercenary," he mutters distastefully distastefully under his breath. "I don't know if he'd be caught hanging out here. But I suppose you could try." Then his brow furrows. "That is... if you're not... turned? Reggie told us to keep an eye out for you, and not in a protective way either. Said you were acting recklessly. Blemishing your villain identity. He had to let you go," he growls. I don't like the glint in his eyes, or the way his hands are curling into fists at his sides. Crow takes his villainy very, very seriously. To him, showing any traces of heroics is considered an act of treason to our- his- kind. Like most villains, like me, he's mentally unstable, but not to the point where he's not intimidating.
        A long time ago, when I first got into the villain business, Crow introduced me to Reggie. I had had a little crush on Crow at the time, because I was young and stupid. It only took a short while before I realized I could never trust him, ever, no matter what he said or did to make me want to believe otherwise.
       "Are you seriously doubting me? What, are you going to try and stop me?" I snarl. We're staring each other down, even though he's probably a good five inches taller than me and is obviously the one succeeding.
       "I've done it before," he whispers, his dark lips playing into a smile. "Has it really been so long that you've forgotten?" I feel my blood turning to ice in my veins.
       "You had no right to kill her," I spit back. "You think that I'm not a villain just because I'm not fond of killing innocents. That doesn't make me weak. It takes all kinds, but I don't have to tell you that." He just chuckles, like I'm a pathetic little child. "And if you ever doubt me again, I won't regret spilling any of your blood. Because you, my friend, are definitely not innocent." He leans in closer, his lips still curved into a twisted little smile.
        "And neither are you," he whispers into my ear, his breath tickling my ear. As I jerk back, he laughs and steps aside. I force myself not to attempt to tear out his windpipe with my bare hands and walk past him. I can feel his leering gaze drilling into my back, and I cross my arms over my chest as I push my way through the door to the dank pub.
At least a dozen pair of suspicious eyes gleam at me through the din as the door slams shut behind me.
       "Look who we have here," the bartender snorts. "The laughingstock of our society." He continues to use a grey rag to clean the rim of a wine glass. "Who let her in?"
Crow materializes behind me, and I startle, not realizing the door had even opened behind me.
        "I did. I think you'll find that our friend hasn't changed one bit," he purrs, heartily gripping my shoulder like we're comrades or something. I shake him off with a scowl on my face. Crow just grins lazily.
       "I'm looking for Bloodhound. Is he here?" I growl to the bartender, ignoring the other pairs of dangerously curious eyes. I recognize the bartender. He's a retired villain; he used to call himself Blade. He could make metal spikes grow from his skin, but a run-in with a hero left him in a coma and he lost his powers. An aura of mystery has always surrounded Blade and his past. Nobody quite knows how he lost his powers, or who was the villain that bested him. And even though Blade is powerless, he's definitely not someone you'd want to mess with. He's got calves three times the size of my thighs and biceps like fricking bowling balls.
       "You're in luck, sweetheart. I was feeling rather nostalgic today and decided to come down to the ol' villain clubhouse," a voice speaks from the opposite end of the pub. I turn to see a hooded figure standing up. He has a quiver slung over his thin brown armor, and his crossbow resting on the tabletop before him. Like most villains, he's wearing way too much leather, but at least his costume is cool. He has this weird medieval Robin Hood thing going for him especially with that cape.
       "What can I say? Precognition." I flash him a smile, despite how uncomfortable I feel. The mercenary known as Bloodhound strolls his way over to me, slinging his crossbow behind his back. When he gets close enough, he pulls his hood back and gives me a once over, ice-blue eyes vivid even in the darkness.
       "Long time, no see. What's up?" he asks me. He too, is ignoring the occupants of the pub, who are all eyeing us with a mix of curiosity and distrust, mainly due to my presence.
       "I have someone I need you to find, if you're up for it," I murmur, keeping my voice low. I don't need the whole villain population of this city knowing what I'm about to tell him. I hope I can trust Bloodhound. I don't know him as well as I know Crow, but he's always had a soft spot for me.
        "Not here," Bloodhound tells me in reply, as if reading my mind. We turn to go, and I hear Crow clearing his throat rather obnoxiously from behind us.
        "Not even going to leave without a goodbye?" He grins again to reveal his wolfish teeth and runs a pale hand through his shock of night-black hair. He reminds me of a vampire, and not in a Twilight kind of way. I suppose it's only fitting that he can shape-shift into one of the creepiest birds, too.
        "I'm afraid I have better things to do than reconvene my past with the likes of you," I tell him with a sorry-not-sorry look on my face. "Thanks for the offer, though."
Crow scowls as we leave, and even though I was only in that pub for a few minutes I still feel an immense amount of relief flood through me when we step out into the cool fresh air of the night.
        "You two ex-lovers or something?" Bloodhound smirks. I quickly give him the illusion of an ordinary guy as a car rolls by. Bloodhound apparently doesn't care if anyone recognizes his armor, his cape, and his crossbow, but I care. If any civilian saw me standing with a known mercenary and recognized me as Eris, I would be done for.
        "It's a long story. And that's not why I'm here," I tell him pointedly. "I want you to find someone for me, remember?" He stands there, mulling that over in his head.
       "What's in it for me?" he finally asks. Mercenaries. I should have known. But I don't have any money, obviously. What little money I did have I spent it on that night at the bar.
      "A favor," I tell him, wincing at how crappy that sounds. "I'm a little broke at the moment, so I can't pay you for now, but how about an IOU of sorts?"
       "What kind of favor?" He grin mischievously. I don't return the smile. "Ok. Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm saying that your powers could come in handy. An IOU, eh? Who is it that you want so badly to find that you'd risk braving Crow and his villain cronies to get to me?" He tilts his head and crosses his arms, studying my masked face as if searching for answers in my eyes.
       "A boy," I say, letting out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. "He's in trouble, and it's all my fault." I've definitely piqued Bloodhound's curiosity now.
       "You mean the boy you killed in front of the entire population of North America? Yeah, but he's a little dead." He doesn't look at me like I'm crazy, though. He just looks like he's waiting for an explanation. He must be used to the impossible.
       "See, the thing is... It wasn't me. On the television. It was another illusionist making herself look like me... and the thing is... I don't think she actually killed him either. I think he was illusion, too. I know it sounds crazy. But I think he's out there somewhere. After Reggie crashed my car- long story- I think Dominic got away. I don't know how. But I think they're bluffing when they say that they had him in the first place. They knew that I cared for Dominic, I guess, and they were trying to get back at me for betraying them." I fiddle with my hands, not wanting to see Bloodhound's expression.
       "Well, I'll be. I never thought I'd live to see the day. A villain like Eris turning to the light side. And I thought the rumors were false," he laughs incredulously. "But if you're so sure he's alive, I can try and help you find him. He's a superhero's son. He's famous. He can't be hard to spot. The public's gotta be in a buzz after learning about Taylor's affair with Ivory." He tilts his head thoughtfully.
       "It doesn't make sense, though. Ivory's been dead for a long time. Longer than before Dominic was born," I muse. Bloodhound just shrugs.
       "You know what they say. Villains never really die. And I try my best not to let the gossip sway my opinion. But I guess this time, the gossip was true," he grins at me. "Eris, trying to save the very boy she was sent to kidnap." I freeze.
        "How do you know that?" I growl. Bloodhound gives me a curious smile, those weird pale eyes shining.
       "I never said I didn't listen to the gossip. Just that I like to figure out my own opinion. I'm not called Bloodhound because of my favorite breed of dog," he tells me wryly. "Now let's find the boy that made you change your allegiances. He must be something if you were willing to face Reggie's wrath to save him."
       "Reggie's already taken everything from me, so I figure I have nothing to lose if I try to find Dominic now," I tell Bloodhound. "When can we start?"
       "I'll email you tomorrow morning with more information," Bloodhound tells me, already walking across the street and leaving me behind. I don't bother to try and catch him. When he's almost out of earshot, I realize something.
       "But you don't know my email address!" I shout after him. He turns around and I can see him grinning at me from across the street. He doesn't say anything, just turns back and continues walking. I can't help but give a stupefied grin to his back. What a weirdo.