Even Villains Go To The Movies (2 page)

“I don’t believe anyone can do that.”

“I also have evidence that you and the young man were in a very unprofessional relationship. When he came to his senses and realized how he’d been used, he came to school to kill you. The public will be incensed to hear you lived.” Satisfaction edged Katrina’s words. She thought she had Angela pinned in a corner.

The woman had come far too well-prepared. Angela looked over at the EMT hovering behind them. Time for a quick getaway. “I think I need to see the doctor now.”

“I’ll wait with you,” the man offered. “For your protection.”

Right, he was her well-meaning bodyguard, another concerned citizen fighting for truth, justice, and the American way. Angela moved to walk past Katrina, then stopped. “How long have you been tracking me?”

“I learned several months ago that a mind-raper was in the area. I didn’t know who it was until today.”

Angela nodded. Considering they didn’t know the name of their target, they had certainly put a plan together quickly. Daddy was not going to like hearing about this. There was always a risk of The Company stumbling across her path this close to headquarters, but things had been so quiet lately she’d been sure she was flying under the radar. “I’ll meet you at the hospital, I suppose?”

Katrina smiled triumphantly. “Yes. There’s some very simple paperwork you need to fill out. And then we’ll discuss more of your future after your surgery.”

Her arm stung at the reminder. “I don’t think I need surgery, just stitches.”

“And I don’t think a mutant should be allowed to breed,” Katrina said. “Fortunately, the government sees my point of view. A quick snip-snip and you’ll be safe to release into the wild.”

Angela turned to follow the EMT, teeth clenched hard enough to hurt. There were so many things she wanted to say. None of them would help. Training took over, memories of summer drills under the hot Texas sun. The Company could come at any time. There was no hope of fighting them, so you had to evade, dodge, run.

She let the EMT load her into the back of the ambulance and waited until they’d hit the first stoplight before she dialed the only number that mattered. “Mom, they found me. Come pick me up.”

Chapter Two

Dear Mom,

The doctor says I can get the stitches out in a few weeks. There’s going to be a scar, but that’s what happens when a bullet takes a bite out of your arm. I might need physical therapy after the stitches come out, but it will have to wait until I can get a job here. Maria was able to sell my bike for a reasonable price so I have rent money for a bit and a new name. AJ David; it sounds like something out of a buddy-cop movie. Any minute now some burly old guy will break in and tell me he’s two days from retirement.

Anyways, yes, I’ll be able to find a job here. Just not teaching, for obvious reasons. Is it wrong to pray that your former boss will accidentally drop into a pit of lava?

It’s L.A.—you’d think there’d be jobs everywhere but I can’t find anything. Teaching is out until The Company backs off, and apparently blonde waitresses are a dime a dozen. I’m seriously tempted to cheat and force someone to hire me. I tell myself that I couldn’t live with that in the long run, but every night I eat ramen noodles I seriously consider world domination. It’s so easy. People want to do what I say, if I want them to. And... Well. I’ll think of something.

Tell Daddy I say thank you for the allowance. I know he said it was my birthday money a little bit early, but since he’ll send a birthday gift too, it’s a loan. I’ll pay you guys back when I get a job.

Love,

Angela

Los Angeles was on the short list of places Angela had hoped never to live. Now, staring at the criminally beige walls of the cheapest apartment she could find, she listened to the L.A. traffic and an argument in Spanish from next door. A door slammed, and with a resigned sigh, Angela grabbed a plate of cookies. She stepped into the communal hall to see which one had retreated.

Luiz, single mom and neighbor, grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Cookie?” Angela offered.

Luiz grabbed one and took Angela’s unspoken invitation to step inside. They sat at the white plastic table Angela had found on the roadside as Luiz chewed her cookie angrily. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We came out here to get away from my ex, be near family. My brother and I started a stunt company. We’ve got a good reputation, but the past few months.” She shook her head as she stared at some personal nightmare. “Mikey said he had a big job, something that would set us up. He quit showing up to work, and now he’s been arrested on a DUI. I’m so stressed and I’m always yelling at Mia. She’s right. I’m a horrible mom.”

“No, you aren’t.” Angela reached over and rubbed her shoulder. “She didn’t mean that. Mia’s a good kid, she loves you.”

“She’s failing classes.”

Fights between Luiz and her daughter Mia revolved around two things: Mia’s grades, and Mia’s string of good-for-nothing boyfriends. Angela had heard every single fight for the past week. “Is she not doing the homework, or does she not understand the subject?”

“She says she doesn’t understand.” Luiz wiped tears from her face. “I just want something better for her. I don’t want her to wind up like me.”

Angela took a cookie. “Do you want me to tutor her?”

Luiz studied her suspiciously.

Being the only blue-eyed blonde in an area heavily populated by Latinos, Angela had gotten used to the looks of suspicion and contempt. She’d gotten the same response when she’d gone to high school in Laredo while her dad taught at the university for two years. She’d also picked up enough border-style Spanish to make the fights all too easy to understand.

“I can’t pay you,” Luiz finally said.

“Let me borrow your bike so I can interview for jobs a couple times a week. That would be payment enough.”

Luiz mulled it over, grabbing another hot cookie. “You can ride?”

“I have an M1 license, but I sold my bike when I left New York.” It was sell the bike for cash or tell the school, and thereby The Company, where to send her last paycheck. She’d opted for selling the bike and twisting Delilah’s arm until her sister used her security firm mojo to produce a new life for her under the name Angela Jane David.

Luiz’s eyes narrowed. “How long have you been riding?”

“Since I was eighteen. Mom wouldn’t let me have a bike when I was living at home.” She shrugged.

Luiz drummed her fingers on the table. “If I can get you a job, you’d tutor my daughter so she doesn’t fail classes?”

“I can tutor her so she understands what she’s doing in class. Failing and passing are up to her. I can’t magically make her a perfect student.” Angela saw a mother’s fear in Luiz’s eyes. It rose off the heat of her skin like a perfume. “I’m a good tutor. I’ve done it before to pay bills.”

“I know something you can do. The pay isn’t tops, but it’ll cover your groceries for the week.” She stood. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear riding gear, black if you have it. Try to act tough.”

***

Arktos landed on the roof of the US Bank Tower in a corona of cold blue fire as the sun sank into the Pacific Ocean. He was late, again. He wanted to run his hand through his hair in frustration, but the mask he wore, the one that lent him better night vision and kept his features hidden while he worked, covered his head. The thieves had pulled off another jewel heist last night, and he wasn’t any closer to tracking them down.

He walked to the edge of the building, looking down at the City of Angels from over a thousand feet up. People scurried around, wrapped in their own worries, insulated by their private fears and precious egos. Somewhere in that mess were the three people he wanted.

They were getting better.

The first heist had been badly executed, and it was only because the police hadn’t called The Company for help that he hadn’t caught them then. It was frustrating that a set of amateurs who couldn’t plan ahead enough to take care of a silent alarm were still smart enough to wear masks and gloves.

Their second heist had been better planned. The woman had acted as a distraction. A car wreck, an armored car blocked in traffic, and then the fire bug in the group had bombed the truck, grabbed the cash, and they were gone. His only hint had been a flash of blonde under the woman’s USC Trojans baseball cap.

A blonde woman with the ability to influence emotions fit the description of the mind-raper who’d escaped The Company in New York. It wouldn’t be the first time a rogue had teamed with a villain, and it wouldn’t be the last. And if they had kept to hitting stores and trucks, he wouldn’t be so worried. Last night’s heist though—that had been different. The mind-raper had held an entire restaurant in thrall while the heist team robbed them blind.

That twist left him with a sick feeling in his stomach and the urge to freeze the criminals in their tracks. His fingers tingled as frost settled around him. Even in the spring heat, he was cold.

Arktos leapt from the building, letting the rush of air strip away his worries. On the edge of thought, he could feel the tug of an idea. A vision appeared, a hazy overlay of the city, and he saw the studio.

With a chuckle, he barrel-rolled in the sky, switching directions high above the streets and heading for home. Sometimes his premonitions let him see something that was about to happen, like the first heist that he’d called in to the police. And sometimes it acted like an alarm clock to make sure he got to work on time. A subtle reminder from his subconscious that he needed to get to work if he wanted to get paid.

Chapter Three

Dear Mom,

L.A. is even weirder than I thought it would be. I miss Texas, but I have a job...

Love,

Angela

Hollywood magic created a strip of alley wide enough for a motorcycle gang to roar down in the middle of a giant room that seemed to be mostly places for lights and cameras to hang.

Angela took off her helmet and wiped sweat from her eyes. Fog roiled around her feet, giving the impression of a winter chill, but the glaring lights were hot. At the far end of the alley, two men argued over something, a camera angle maybe. She glanced at Luiz for direction.

Originally she’d thought she was coming along to play Luiz’s assistant, make a coffee run or three, but Luiz had introduced her as the stuntwoman AJ David. She’d flashed a couple of cards and told Angela to sign all the paperwork as fast as she could. Angela made a mental note to make sure she had all the proper licenses, permits, guild cards, and union paperwork done by morning. There were rules in Hollywood, and she was certain she’d broken about fifty of the unwritten ones. Hopefully Daddy could fake a California accent long enough to play her agent if anyone called.

“They’re going to make us do it again,” one of the men said. Angela thought his name was Dyfed, but she wasn’t sure. Luiz was riding as the gang leader, doing tricks that made Angela’s heart stop. Dyfed and Michael were a set of twins who did jumps. Angela was paired with a woman named Raina who had told her their only job was to gun their motors and look fierce. Or as fierce as was possible with a helmet on.

Luiz glanced at her. “Welcome to show biz. It’s a lot of hurry up and wait. They’re trying to get the angles and lighting right before the talent shows up.”

“Talent?”

“Movie stars,” Raina said. “Try not to swoon like a girl.”

Angela frowned at her but couldn’t think of a decent reply.

“Glee!” the man on the other end of the set yelled.

“Patrick Swendon,” Luiz said. “He’s the director. If he tells you to do something, you nod and say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

“Got it.”

“Glee!” Swendon yelled again. “What are you doing there?” He was pointing at the ‘gang’.

Angela turned around to see if anyone had joined them. It was just the five of them in black leather and a morass of confusion.

“You with the blonde hair!” Swendon shouted. “Earth to Glee! Get over here?”

“Um...” Luiz said.

Angela pointed to herself.

“Yes, you!”

She coasted her bike across the set, stopping just in front of a lean man who was on the wrong side of fifty and red from anger. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re supposed to be riding with Tyler, remember? We went over that yesterday. Why are you down there with the gang?”

Angela bit her lip.

Luiz coasted up beside her. “Mr. Swendon, this is AJ David. She’s one of my stunt riders.”

The director glared at Angela. “Get off the bike and come over here.” He turned and yelled at someone in the shadows behind him. “Get me my glasses! Where are my glasses? Thank you.” After putting them on, he turned back to blink at Angela. “You’re not Glee’s body double?”

She glanced at Luiz, who shook her head. “No, she’s just a rider.”

“We need to get her hair covered That’s almost a perfect match for Glee’s wig.” His eyes narrowed. “How tall are you?”

“Five ten,” Angela said.

He sighed in disappointment. “Too bad. You would make a perfect body double if you weren’t so tall. Glee’s at least four inches shorter than you.”

“They’re probably the same height if Glee’s in her heels and AJ’s wearing flats,” Luiz put in helpfully. Job, she mouthed to Angela.

The director nodded. “How are you with mouthy, temperamental women who like to rage at the world?”

“I have sisters,” Angela said. No regular human being could ever match Maria throwing a tantrum. Normal humans couldn’t throw lightning and turn enemies to piles of ash when they were in a bad mood.

“Good enough. Where’s Tyler’s body double? What’s his name?” The director stormed off into the shadows.

A motorcycle pulled up beside her, fire engine red and ridden by a tuxedoed man. Jet black eyes matched jet black hair. He had a strong jaw and dark skin, but not the right bone structure for a Latino. He was disconcertingly familiar.

She tipped her head to the side trying to decide where she’d seen him before. At the store maybe? Or on TV?

“Tyler!” Swendon huffed. “We aren’t ready for you.”