The Supervillain and Me (Morriston Superheroes #1)

Chapter Four

There was a knife under my pillow. I could say with absolute confidence that I had never slept with a knife under my pillow before.

Sure, it was only a butter knife, but I still felt like I needed some form of protection. He knew where I lived. He had been in my room. My promise to Connor played in my head like a scratchy broken record. I'll let you know. A load of good that promise did. Connor's cell phone was dead, and once he didn't return home after midnight, I assumed he took up his usual post on a skyscraper downtown, watching for trouble. I just had to hope that if something happened, if Iron Phantom showed up again, Connor would come.

Telling Dad should have been my next move, but after returning home from fifteen hours of dealing with a charred office and a frightened city, he passed out on top of his blankets with his shoes and tie still on. I wasn't about to bother him. I changed my clothes, got my knife, and went to bed. It was just one night. I could take care of myself.

But I had overlooked the fact that it was impossible to sleep when your mind was somewhere else. I rolled onto my side, my back facing the window, while I plumped my pillows and attempted to count sheep in desperation. I had just reached twenty, and was no closer to falling asleep, when I heard a dull thump on my carpet followed by a gravelly voice.

"You should really lock your window. Dangerous criminals are running rampant around this city, you know."

Right, like the window mattered. The guy could teleport. The fingers of my right hand inched under my pillow. I took the knife in my fist, the steel handle freezing against my sweaty skin. Maybe if I didn't move, he would leave. Like an animal playing dead as a defense mechanism. I watched an entire special on opossums doing that on Animal Planet once. If I held my breath and started drooling a little, he would grow bored and walk away.

"Psst. I know you're not sleeping."

The floor creaked as the thumps moved closer. Be the opossum, Abby. Just be the opossum.

"Hey." A gloved hand touched my bare shoulder, and I whipped my head around, coming face-to-mask with the guy who'd haunted my thoughts for the past twenty-four hours.

"Get away from me!" I hissed, rolling out of bed. My mattress was the only thing between us. I couldn't work up the courage to throw the butter knife, so I dove for a thick anatomy textbook on the floor instead, hurling it through the room, aiming straight for his dumb, evil face. With a shake of his head, Iron Phantom disappeared, winking back into existence a few feet over. The textbook spun through the empty air, smacked the wall, and hit the carpet. Iron Phantom stepped on it with his boot, and my weapon was rendered useless.

"Easy there, Bazooka." He sounded like he was trying to hold back a laugh, and I hated him for it. In the darkness of my room, I could hardly see him in his black suit, just barely make out the occasional glint of his eyes as they caught the glow from my alarm clock. "I'm not allowed to pay a visit to the damsel in distress I rescued?"

"No. Why don't you pay a visit to one of the people who almost burned alive today in the fire that you set instead?" I snatched his note off my bedside table, waving it through the air. "And how do you know where I live?"

"Oh, good. You got it." He noticed the unopened chocolate bar. "You didn't eat it? It's not poisoned."

I blinked. I didn't eat it because I wasn't hungry; I hadn't even thought that it might be poisoned, but now I was starting to reconsider.

"It's not poisoned," he repeated. "And maybe I know where you live because maybe I followed you here last night to make sure you got back safe."

I knew I hadn't been alone. I clutched my knife tighter. He knew where I lived. Where I slept. What else did he know?

Connor's plea echoed through my head. Let me know. He had to be aware that something was up, right? He had to realize I was in danger.