Page 124 of Villainous Rise

I tucked the evidence into my jacket pocket, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car. The damp air immediately clung to my skin, and I pulled my jacket tighter around me.

The warehouse entrance was partially obscured by fog, the rusty door looking like it hadn’t been opened in years. My footsteps echoed on the concrete as I approached, each sound seeming unnaturally loud in the eerie silence.

“This is how people die in movies,” I muttered, reaching for the door handle. “Walking into abandoned warehouses to meet mysterious strangers.”

I was surprised when the door opened easily, silent despite its unused, rusty appearance. But opening the door revealed nothing but darkness beyond. I hesitated at the threshold, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Hello?” I called out, hating how my voice wavered slightly. “Wraith?”

No response. Just the empty darkness of the warehouse stretching before me.

I jumped when there was a snap from further inside and a single overhead light highlighted a small table in the center of the vast space. The circle of illumination was an island in a sea of darkness, the boundaries between light and shadow unnaturally sharp.

I took a deep breath, cursing Wraith’s dramatics and approached the table. It was just a bare metal surface reflecting the harsh light from above. I reached into my pocket, fingers brushing against the evidence Havoc had collected for me to deliver.

As soon as I reached the table, the light above went out with a sharp click and I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat as darkness swallowed me. I scrambled backward deciding to run for the door but I collided with something solid. Someone.

A hand gripped my shoulder, preventing me from spinning around to face them.

“Put the items on the table.” A voice whispered directly into my ear, so close I could feel breath against my skin. The voice was barely audible but male and deliberately distorted. I tried to turn my head, but the grip on my shoulder tightened.

“I can’t see the table,” I whispered back.

The presence behind me didn’t move, didn’t speak again. I extended my hand into the darkness, reaching forward until my fingertips brushed against cold metal. I fumbled in my pocket for the shield and belt parts and placed them on the surface with a soft clatter.

I waited, acutely aware of the presence still behind me. Close enough that I could feel body heat. Close enough that I could feel the sensation of a manufactured Super.

I wasn’t surprised Wraith was a Super, but I wasn’t happy about it either.

“Can I leave now? I delivered what you asked for.”

“No.” The single word hung in the air, flat and final.

“Havoc knows I’m here. I have a distress beacon,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “If I activate it, he’ll be here in seconds.”

“Are you sure about that?” The distorted voice held something that might have been amusement and a chill ran through me.

I reached into my inner jacket pocket where I kept the small beacon and my fingers closed around the familiar shape. I pulled it out, thumb hovering over the activation button, but something felt wrong. The small indicator light that should have been green was dark. I ran my thumb over the surface, feeling for the subtle vibration that indicated it was in standby mode.

Nothing.

I pressed the activation button. No response.

The beacon was dead.

“What did you do?” I whispered, unable to keep the tremor from my voice this time.

The hand on my shoulder tightened slightly, as if sensing my growing fear. My mind raced through my options. Wraith clearly had the upper hand here, but I wasn’t about to let him know I was terrified.

“Havoc will kill you if you try to hurt me,” I said, injecting steel into my voice.

A low chuckle vibrated against my ear. “Havoc? I can handle Havoc. Besides, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have bothered with this meeting.”

I felt him shift behind me, his presence moving around me in the darkness. He circled me then stopped directly in front of me.

“I’m leaving now,” I announced, taking a deliberate step backward in the direction of the door. “You have what you wanted.”

“No.” The single word stopped me cold. The toes of his boots bumped against my shoes. “We’re not finished here.”