Chapter 55 Alone.

Chapter 55: 55 Alone.

"Of course not! Not yet, anyway. The place doesn’t even have a laboratory, huh? Not a proper basement lab where a sexy, slightly unhinged scientist can conduct all her experiments for her villainous employer? Come on. Every respectable villain lair needs one."

Wow. Subtle.

Still, I hadn’t expected that particular suggestion. "You want to move into my basement?" I asked. "Because I’m pretty sure there’s a scorched vampire living down there."

"Ah-ah! I said I want to work in your basement!" Patty protested, sweeping one arm around as though she were unveiling some grand architectural masterpiece, her lab coat billowing dramatically behind her. "And honestly, it makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? You need someone to bring this place back from the dead, and I need somewhere to live that isn’t currently full of asbestos, ancient chemical stains, and probably several violations of international law. Everybody wins!"

"I—"

"And since I’ll be rebuilding my laboratory anyway," Patty continued, looking unbearably pleased with herself, the woolly collar around her neck seeming to tremble with smug satisfaction, "it would be downright rude not to renovate the rest of the building while I’m at it. Obviously, I won’t charge you for the labour."

That still left the cost of the materials, which would probably make my wallet cry for mercy, but it was a hell of a lot better than having to pay for both.

Besides, after everything that had happened with the Captain, walking away from the place now didn’t exactly feel like an option. Maybe, once we got it properly renovated, it could actually turn into somewhere decent. If I was really going to be sharing a home with both Glacia and Patty, having more room certainly wouldn’t hurt.

"Alright," I finally said. "You’ve got a deal."

"You knew I’d win you over, Miles." Patty beamed before immediately holding her head out toward me. "Now, I believe my excellent negotiating deserves some head pats from my favourite mad scientist."

Honestly, that seemed fair enough. I reached over and rubbed the top of Patty’s woolly head, earning a pleased little sound as her eyes slipped half-shut.

"Oooooh, yeah. Right there," she murmured, practically melting beneath my hand as she wriggled happily. I could have sworn I caught the faintest glimpse of something resembling a tail moving beneath the hem of her lab coat.

I could only shake my head.

Patty was a bizarre woman. There was no getting around that. Still, considering the alternatives, I’d much rather have that particular brand of insanity working for me than aimed in my direction.

As if summoned by the thought, another vehicle appeared at the end of the driveway. This one was definitely not another battered work van, either.

No, this was the kind of car whose owner probably referred to manual labour as something "the help" handled.

A sleek Porsche Panamera rolled toward us, looking expensive enough to have its own financial advisor. The polished hubs caught the sunlight, and I wouldn’t have been remotely surprised to learn that half the damn thing was made from silver and gold.

I wasn’t exactly shocked when Lacey climbed out.

She was dressed in a tailored, form-fitting suit that seemed designed to emphasize every curve she possessed, the sleeves puffing slightly at the shoulders while the low-cut collar revealed a white silk blouse beneath it, complete with a ridiculous little cravat.

Her eyes were, as usual, concealed behind mirrored lenses, while the smile on her face was the sort of thing that could probably convince a man to sign away his house without reading the contract.

A wide-brimmed hat, which I suspected cost more than my previous apartment building, kept the sunlight off her face. A dark veil hung over the front of it, giving her the appearance of someone either returning from a funeral or arriving early for the next one.

Two bald men climbed out of the front of the vehicle behind her. Their stone-like skin and broad frames made them look less like bodyguards and more like a pair of walking gravestones waiting for someone to provide the name.

I felt the faint metallic pull of weapons concealed beneath their jackets. Ordinary guns, as far as I could tell. Not that either of them exactly needed one. They looked strangely familiar, though I couldn’t immediately place why.

I’d already known Lacey was rich. I hadn’t realized she was that rich.

Well.

This was going to be fun.

"Lacey. What a surprise," I said, putting absolutely none of the sentiment into my voice.

"Miles. It’s wonderful to see you again." She glanced toward the building, tilting her head as she surveyed the property. Or at least, I assumed that’s what she was doing. With those mirrored glasses, it was impossible to tell exactly where the hell she was looking. "I heard you’d recently acquired a new property. How very impressive."

"Funny how quickly that information reached you," I said. "And while we’re on the subject, where did all this money come from? The cars, the new outfits, the whole executive-supervillain aesthetic? Last I remember, Razor was still operating as a freelance outfit."

"Oh, things have changed rather dramatically since then." Lacey lowered her glasses just enough for me to catch the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Razor was recently purchased by Firefly Corporations."

That got my attention.

Patty and I exchanged a look.

Razor was a perfectly respectable company by the standards of the business. They mostly handled freelance villains and picked up heroes who came looking for representation, acting as the middleman between supers and the people willing to pay them.

Firefly was an entirely different beast. They were a corporate giant, the kind of organization that had its fingers in practically everything. Heroes, villains, sponsorships, endorsements, and even occasional arrangements with the BSU when things got messy enough.

"And they decided to keep you?" I asked, genuinely curious. "No offense, Lacey, but even with your connections, you’re still one person. Firefly is an ocean, and you’re a very small drop in it."

"Simple. I manage Polaris, and more importantly, I have a personal relationship with the man himself."

She smiled as though she’d just revealed the punchline to a joke I’d been too slow to understand.

"Polaris is the villain everyone is talking about right now. He didn’t just go up against Ms. Fire in the playoff matches. He was involved in one of the biggest heists in recent memory, took down five Streeters, and then deliberately walked away from the diamond just to make a statement."

She spread her hands toward the mansion around us.

"And now there’s this."

Her smile widened.

"He infiltrated Captain Zero’s estate, dismantled his security system single-handedly, fought through three of his lieutenants, and forced the Captain himself to retreat all the way back North, leaving both his precious daughter and his precious mansion behind."

Lacey’s voice practically purred with satisfaction.

"One of the Nine, humiliated by a freelance villain. Tell me, Miles, what hero wouldn’t want another shot at you after that? We’ve moved beyond the opening act now. We’re the main event, baby."

That conniving little bitch.

I stared at her for a moment before asking the question I already knew the answer to. "And how, exactly, did you learn all of that?"

"Miles, please." She gave a light laugh and flicked one hand dismissively. "It’s my profession to know these things."

"Right," I said. "So how long have you been setting all this up?"

"What?" Lacey placed a hand against her chest, her expression turning into a perfect picture of innocent confusion. "Why, Miles, you’re making me sound like some sort of sinister mastermind. How could I possibly have predicted that everything would fall into place like this?"

I didn’t believe her for a second.

I’d dealt with schemers before. I’d met people who spent months building elaborate plans and villains who thought they were three moves ahead of everyone else, but Lacey operated on an entirely different level. Hell, people who wanted to conquer the world usually came up with plans that involved fewer moving parts than whatever she had cooking.

I folded my arms and fixed her with a stare that made it clear I wasn’t buying a single word.

"So you’re telling me all of this was just a coincidence?"

"My dear Miles," Lacey replied, tilting her head toward me while resting one hand on her hip, her smile never wavering, "I genuinely have no idea what you’re suggesting."

She paused just long enough to make the next part feel even more deliberate.

"Although, if you insist on knowing, Glacia was actually the one who approached me first. Naturally, I became rather interested when I discovered that the daughter of one of the Order’s most influential members was working with Razor."

She gave another little shrug, as though the decision had been obvious.

"How could I possibly ignore an opportunity like that? Of course, Glacia had one condition. She would only agree to work with Razor if she could work alongside you."

Her eyes glinted behind the mirrored lenses.

"A rather amusing demand, considering the freelancer in question was famously determined to work alone."