Villains Don't Save Heroes! (Night Terror Book 2)

by Mia Archer

Sure it’d taken me a little longer than usual to get out of the lab this morning. Selena took one look at me in that traditional uniform and she was all over me.

“You told me I could come out and have some fun. Things have been so boring lately!”

“Would that be so bad?” she asked. “Then we can get down to the real action!” “We are not getting down to the real action until…”

I reminded myself that she was, at heart, a journalism student. I guess science jokes didn’t do it for her.

“Everything upsets your stomach,” she said.

replied. “Some of us don’t have a stomach that was forged in the nuclear fire of an alien sun, y’know.”

Which was kind of flattering when you thought about it. It was nice to know I could still pull off the freshman look despite being closer to my late twenties.

“You have the same problem I had before I met you. No new worlds to conquer.”

“Yeah? I figured all the new things we’ve been doing together would be way better than fighting,” I said. “Natalie!”

“What?” I said. “Fighting you was fun, but the other stuff we do now is way more fun.” “You’re terrible,”

“Yeah, well a lot of villains decided they were done with the whole life of crime thing when I moved in,”

“Is this another one of your geek things?” she asked. “And no, that does not mean I want to binge whatever the heck that thing comes from on Netflix. That show about the cute girl who killed vampires was boring enough.” “Philistine,” I muttered.

It was a long suffering sigh. Fialux might be amazing, but ironically enough for a woman who I presumed to be from another world she had absolutely zero interest in quality science fiction. Doubly ironic since she was basically a badass walking and flying scifi trope.

Whatever. It felt good.

I’d known a few girls who had more intimate relationships with their phones than they did with their significant others.

If I had a penny for every time I found myself wishing CORVAC was around so I didn’t have to do all this stuff manually like in the bad old days then I wouldn’t have to ever rob a bank again.

She had the telltale signs of jealousy, but she should know that jealousy was the last emotion she should have looking at this guy.

Which was saying something considering the kind of super powered smashes and grabs that had happened.

I needed to talk to her and this guy was looking at me with the sort of rapt attention that only comes from a likely virgin checking out a girl who he hopes will help him get rid of that status.

I wanted to puke putting on the act, but I was willing to put up with a lot of bullshit in the name of doing this job.

Social Engineering 101. Give people what they wanted, whisper sweet little lies into their ears, and nine times out of ten they’d give you whatever you wanted. Sometimes more than what was in their power to give.

Better to pull an Aes Sedai where the truth I told someone wasn't necessarily the truth they thought they heard.

She might call it a nerd show, but anyone with any taste knew it was a fucking modern classic which is why I’d spent so much time learning a decent approximation of the world’s most famous eyebrow raise.

You could have the best security in the world, and it didn't matter a whit if the idiots with access to your highly secured system were vulnerable to an old-fashioned man in the middle attack.

“Y’know you might’ve defeated me a hell of a lot sooner if you’d used this sexy femme fatale routine to distract me instead of fighting me over and over again,” Fialux said.

“Oh dear Lord. Could you be any more stereotypical than that? Is that seriously the best this guy can come up with?”

There were literally documented cases of that crazy woman kicking guys in the nuts when she thought they were being insulting towards women in the sciences.

I guess I was rubbing off on her too. And I’m not just talking about what we did in the bubble bath after having a few drinks. Where “a few drinks” was defined as a couple glasses of wine for me and downing a few kegs for her since it took a hell of a lot of booze to get her to buzzed, let alone drunk, considering her impressive metabolism.

“Oh no he didn’t,” Selena said. I thought I heard rustling. As though she was maybe getting ready to cause some trouble.

“What. The fuck,” Selena said.

“Night Terror,” she said. “I thought I might see you again after that ill-advised break in attempt last week.”

“I was hitting on fucking Night Terror? What the fuck is going on here?”

Really? She was still operating an old model that required her to use her hands to activate the blaster? That was the super villain equivalent of using a baby toy.

I waved a hand in front of my face. Nerd dust. Blech.

I might be doing the whole bleeding heart hero thing for Selena, but in my heart of hearts I was still totally a villain.

“Did… did you just compare my management style to Darth Vader?”

“Well yeah, but he had a sense of style and actually struck fear into the hearts of his enemies,” I said. “You don’t.”

She always appreciated a good villain taunting. As long as she wasn’t the one on the business end of that taunting, that is.

Dr. Lana crossed her arms under her breasts. A movement that was slightly distracting. She might be a crazy bitch, but as was the case with so many crazy bitches she was also attractive enough to draw attention.

I knew it. I had a time machine. I’d looked a million years into the future once and there was no sign of us ruling the planet together.

That has to be like the oldest time traveler joke in the book. I don’t even have a time machine. The things are a pain in the ass.

"Long enough?" "Long enough for me to finish my plans for taking over the world. At that point it won't matter what I do,”

“Ah. I bet you’re also the kind of person who runs up your credit cards because you’ll totally have enough money to pay it off later when the bill comes due,”

“When you’re the ruler of the world nothing you do is illegal!” "How Nixonian of you,"

If the world was going to be ruled under any sort of fist it would be a carbon-fiber fist backed by a nuclear reactor, and it would belong to me thank you very much.

If I were the one saying something like that then I’d be setting myself up for one hell of an awesome one-liner.

My performance as background woman number four in Barefoot in the Park is unimpeachable, thank you very much.

Yeah. Fuck that.

Even when she was taunting me she couldn't do anything original.

Several things happened in rapid succession. Not all of them were necessarily good for that whole plan to show her why I was the best villain in the world.