King Of Bad [Super Villian Academy Book 1] Page 3

  “Why is she here at all?” Jeff was horrified that they were all put in such danger.

  “She used to panic and forget how to ‘open’ people back up again. Now she has a better understanding of the ‘undo’ process than she used to. So, she can at least be in the same room, just can’t interact yet. It distracts her and she might unwillingly seal everybody up.”

  Pyro pointed to a boy who sat on the edge of a chair, tapping his feet and drumming his fingers on his thighs. “Beat Feet, I suspect, is ADHD. He can’t concentrate long enough to hold off his ability either.”

  “What can he do?” Jeff asked.

  “He can make you dance or run. He controls feet. When he gets a handle on his ability it will come in handy out on the streets.”

  Jeff opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but was interrupted by the approach of a stern looking man.

  “Is this your hoodlum?” The man’s gravelly voice raised the hair on the back of Jeff’s neck. Or maybe it was the cocky smirk and the term “hoodlum”.

  Pyro nodded, eyeing him coolly. She said to Jeff, “Tubs oversees recruitment.”

  Jeff almost smiled at Pyro’s aloof attitude toward Tubs. “What are you recruiting for?”

  “Not very quick, are you?” Tubs sneered. Then he spoke slowly and clearly as if Jeff were foreign. “This is an academy. I recruit super villains for the academy.”

  Jeff looked at Pyro, then back at Tubs. “You’re trying to recruit me?”

  “Ooo, the kid catches on.”

  Jeff scoffed. “You’re gonna teach me how to be a super villain?”

  “That’s what we do, kid,” Tubs said. “We want to teach you how to be bad, well.”

  “Look,” Pyro said, “here at S.V.A., you learn how to be really good at being really bad. And after watching you all week, I suspect you’re a natural.”

  Chapter 6

  As Jeff watched the kids practicing, their actions took on new meaning. They weren’t just trying to develop their abilities to their full potential; they were doing it with intent and malice. They wanted to know just how bad they could really be. Jeff wasn’t a good person and didn’t fool himself by saying he was. However, he wasn’t evil. Were these people evil? Pyro didn’t seem to be.

  “What happened to his hand?” Tubs asked Pyro.

  “His fire came on.”

  “I knew he had it. You couldn’t get to him in time?” Tubs glared at Pyro like she’d broken his Ming vase.

  Pyro answered without expression. “I was right there with him, but he was too strong for me.”

  Did Jeff imagine Tubs salivating?

  “Too strong?” Tubs rocked back on his heels. “Wonderful.”

  “I’m all right, thanks.” Jeff waved his bandaged hand in front of Tubs. “Your concern is touching.”

  Tubs turned his nasty sneer on Jeff. A wave of despair washed over him. He stared back at Tubs as his self confidence crumbled. Jeff compared himself to the taller, stronger man and realized he’d never be his equal. As a matter of fact, Jeff knew he wasn’t worthy of standing in his presence. Jeff was nothing but a worm, a lowly, pathetic specimen.

  “Lay off him, Tubs,” Pyro snarled.

  Tubs sniffed deeply and the doomed feeling faded, leaving Jeff mentally exhausted and confused.

  “Lesson number one,” Tubs said. His lip curled in disgust at Jeff. “Don’t challenge an S.V. until you know their strengths and their weaknesses.”

  Tubs spun on his heel and marched across the gym.

  Jeff twined his fingers in his hair and massaged his head, trying to ease the confusion and vulnerability he felt.

  “Sorry about that, kid.” Pyro studied Jeff. Her eyebrows pulled together and she gnawed on her lip. “You don’t have any barriers. Most S.V.’s come to us with low defenses, but some. You’ve got nothing.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Love Bug’s been vamping you from across the room this whole time. You can’t keep your eyes off her.” Pyro scowled at the girl who smiled demurely and waved.

  “Well, she’s gorgeous!” Jeff ogled her openly now that his attraction was out.

  “Actually, she’s not. Her ability is psychic, like Tubs. She’s got you seeing whatever it is that you find attractive and she’s locked a beacon on you something fierce.” Pyro huffed. “It’s like you’re…human.”

  Jeff blinked to break the spell he felt tying him to Love Bug. “Wait a minute. Aren’t I human?”

  The pull from across the room was strong and alluring. Jeff fought the desire to be near Love Bug, but he was running low on arguments why he should stay with Pyro.

  “Bug, stop!” Pyro’s outburst hushed the chaos in the room.

  All of a sudden the pull from across the room vanished. Jeff blinked. “What the…” Gone were the wavy strawberry blonde curls and pine forest eyes. Instead Love Bug had limp, drab, blonde hair and indistinguishable eye color. Her dress didn’t even fit the same. What had been perky, pink ruffles framing an enticing neckline were now child-like, floppy and sadly out of place.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Pyro yanked the gym door open. It banged against the wall and Jeff barely scooted through behind her before it slammed shut again.

  “Why are you so mad?” Jeff had to jog to keep up with Pyro as she strode down the hall.

  “It is a rule that the students aren’t supposed to use their abilities on each other unless directly involved in training.” Pyro opened a door, flipped on a light and led Jeff into a small meeting room.

  “What’s that saying?” Jeff asked. “No honor among thieves.”

  Pyro opened her mouth as if to protest, but then shut it again. “Have a seat. Let’s talk about what you are and what we can do for you.”

  Uncharacteristic nerves knotted and tensed through Jeff as he sat. He had always known that he was different, but he hadn’t thought it meant anything special. Was being a super villain special? Maybe not, but it gave a title or explanation to him beyond “delinquent.” Jeff grimaced. Tubs had called him a hoodlum. So maybe this really wasn’t special after all.

  “What’s wrong?” Pyro asked.

  “I guess I’m not comfortable being something. I’ve never aspired to do much of anything and it seems like a lot of pressure to suddenly learn I’m supposedly a super villain and that I have to learn how to do it right.”

  “You don’t have to do anything, kid. You are what you are. We are just here for you if you want to learn how to do more.” Pyro leaned back in her chair and crossed her leg. “Let me start closer to the beginning. Once upon a time…”

  Jeff curled his lip and grunted. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Yes, I am. This is no fairytale.”

  “How many of us are there? Is this the only school or are they everywhere? What happens if I decide not to get training?”

  “Whoa, boy! Rein in the questions. I’ll get to them.” Pyro’s foot bobbed as she studied Jeff. “I don’t usually recruit. I work in administration, a fundraiser. They asked me to take you on because they suspected you had fire. So let’s start there.”

  Pyro explained Mr. Sims initial encounter with Jeff and how he’d reported to Tubs. “That’s when Tubs got me involved. See, Sims felt your S.V. energy when you blew to fan the flames. Since you were playing with fire, Tubs suspected you had it and he knows that fire is a dangerous new ability and best taught by someone with experience. You know, when I first saw you, kid, I thought they were making way more of it than was needed. You were hanging out with your friends. Giving your sister a hard time. Taking out the trash like a good son, but there was nothing about you that struck me as special. Or even super for that matter. But then you did something that changed my mind completely.”

  Jeff sat up straight in his chair then slouched back down again. He felt very conflicted hearing that Pyro had been shadowing him for so long and he hadn’t even known it. “What? What did I do?”

  “You blew out a match.”

  Jeff frow
ned. “How could blowing fire out prove I have fire in me?”

  “It didn’t. You have fire in your hands, just like I do.” Pyro raised her right hand, palm up. Her fingertips were already swollen and throbbing. A spark emitted from each finger and flowed together in the center of her palm. A marble sized ball of fire ebbed and crackled in the middle of her hand. She studied it. “When you learn control, you’ll be able to start fires whenever you want. But what is unique about you, is you will also be able to douse them.”

  Pyro held the fireball in front of Jeff. “Blow.”

  Jeff shrugged and blew on the fire as if extinguishing birthday candles. A thin frost doused the flame and coated Pyro’s hand. Jeff blinked, thinking he was seeing things. He scraped a finger through the frost on her palm and touched it to his tongue. Cold and wet.

  Pyro wiped her hand on her pants leg. “Fire and ice. I can’t even begin to imagine how you do that. But, Jeff, I can tell you no one has ever had opposing elements. Ever.”

  Jeff held his hand in front of his mouth and huffed. His breath felt warm, normal. “I don’t even know how I did that.”

  Pyro smiled. “That’s normal. Most S.V.’s come to us completely ignorant of how their abilities work. Heck, most abilities aren’t even revealed until after training starts. You seem to have a great understanding of your speed, but you said you got that really young so I’m guessing that’s why. Your strength is undeveloped; your fire and ice are completely new to you. Who knows what else you’ll discover.”

  A headache seemed to take residence while Pyro listed Jeff’s known abilities. He hoped he had no others. “But what are they for? Just so I can commit petty crimes my whole life? What’s the sense in that?”

  “Jeff, you don’t have to make that decision right away either. Just like any normal kid, you go to school to learn what you are best at. Then you decide how to use it in life.” Pyro leaned forward as if she was ready to get up. “Look, it’s late. You can stay here tonight or you can go home and think about it.”

  “I think I’ll go home, thanks.” Jeff stood. “Um, but where are we exactly?”

  “New Berlin.”

  “What? That means we ran like…”

  “30 miles.” Pyro stood and smoothed the front of her pants. Except for the windblown look of her hair, Jeff would never have guessed this woman had played with fire, administered first aid and had run more than a marathon at full speed. He, on the other hand, looked every bit the worse for the wear. His left hand was bandaged. His clothes were smudged and dirty from hiding behind a dumpster and still uncomfortably damp from his impromptu ice pack.

  “How will I explain this to my parents?” Jeff stared at his mummified hand.

  “Did you see them after work today?” Pyro asked.

  “No, I left before they got home.”

  “Say it happened during the day. Be vague. It’ll only take a couple days to heal.” Pyro led the way down the hall. She grinned. “I’ll run you home.”

  Chapter 7

  Jeff deftly climbed the trellis and pulled himself onto the overhang. He crept like a cat burglar to his bedroom window and quietly slid it open. He never locked his bedroom window for this reason. One day Mother would realize that the only consistently clean surface in his room was the footlocker just under the window that he used to step in and out.

  His bedroom door stood open. The upstairs was pitch black, but light filtered up the staircase and he could hear the recognizable music of Gone With The Wind. Jeff rolled his eyes. Mother always stayed up late watching romantic movies. He switched on the lamp next to his bed and surveyed the mound of clothes covering his bed. Good, he could easily have been lost under that pile.

  He trotted down the stairs, rubbing his face with his good hand for dramatic effect. “Darn, I guess I slept right through dinner.”

  Mother gasped. “Jeffrey, you scared the living daylights out of me. I didn’t know you were home.”

  “Sorry.” Jeff went into the kitchen and stared at the contents of the refrigerator. He called out to the living room. “What did I miss?”

  “Chicken and rice. I saved two separate servings for you and your sister. Yours is in the yellow container. It’s bigger than Sandra’s.”

  “Thanks, Mother.” Jeff grabbed the container and popped the lid. He put it in the microwave to heat and went back to the fridge to grab a sports drink.

  “Where’s Sandra?” Jeff asked.

  “She ended up spending the night at Tracy’s.”

  The microwave beeped, so Jeff stirred the food and replaced the lid and set it for another minute. “Dad asleep?”

  “Yep.”

  Jeff heard the telltale clink of Mother’s wine glass on the side table. He looked at the clock. 1:00 a.m. Late even for Mother. “Movie almost over?”

  “Yep.”

  The microwave beeped again so Jeff grabbed his food and a fork, stuffed the sports drink under his arm and was about to dash up to his room.

  “Jeffrey, what did you do to your hand?” Mother blinked repeatedly, a habit she had when she was thinking.

  “Just burned it making lunch. It’ll be okay. Goodnight.” Jeff dashed up the first few steps before Mother stopped him.

  “Wait a minute, young man. Maybe I should look at it. You’ve wrapped it up quite a bit there; it must be serious.”

  “Oh, I just got carried away. Sorry for wasting so much gauze. I don’t want to waste more by unwrapping it. It doesn’t even hurt anymore. I overreacted.” Jeff smiled his most boyish smile, the only thing that seemed to melt Mother’s ice core. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Well, I’ll look at it tomorrow then.” Mother looked genuinely concerned.

  “Thanks,” Jeff said. “Um, goodnight.”

  Back in his room, Jeff inhaled his dinner. He was tempted to go back downstairs for Sandra’s serving, but he hadn’t heard Mother go to bed yet.

  “Man, running 60 miles in a day leaves you hungry!” Jeff told Pucker as he set his dirty dish on the dresser next to her fishbowl. Pucker flapped her fluttery orange fins in response. “If swimming is anything like running then I have a new-found respect for you. You never stop.”

  Jeff dropped a couple extra flakes of food on the scum-covered water. Pucker managed to eat them and spit the scum out. Jeff nodded his approval. “Talented and bulletproof.”

  Tossing aside the clothes he’d worn the day before, Jeff plopped onto his beanbag chair and grabbed his electric guitar. He balanced the neck of the guitar on his bandaged hand and plucked out a tuneless song. Without the amp the sound was thin and tinny, made even worse because of the lack of notes and chords. Jeff didn’t hear it anyway. A barrage of images flashed through his mind. Fire erupting from his own fingers. Pyro fading into thin air. The contorted girl’s head popping out to taunt the boys into tossing her further. The gorgeous Love Bug melting into the plain Love Bug. Shivers went down his spine at the memory of the utter despair he’d felt when Tubs did his psycho number on him.

  “What the hell am I gonna do?” Out of habit, Jeff spoke to Pucker. She floated in his direction, looking down at him from her perch on his dresser. Suddenly she represented everything that used to be innocent in Jeff’s life. Freshman year. Homecoming. Some girl Jeff didn’t even know walked up to him in the hall and shyly shoved a fishbowl at him. The note taped to the bowl said, “You’re the only fish in the sea for me.” He flat out refused to go to a dance with a girl he didn’t know. In hindsight that was a foolish decision because now she’s hot, but won’t even look at him. He was pissed having to carry that fish around with him all day. But once he’d gotten it home and it had stared at him for a couple days, it’d grown on him. It always looked ready to kiss, so he decided it was a girl and called her Pucker. He rarely gave her fresh water and frequently forgot to feed her, yet almost two years later she was still around. “Bulletproof, that’s what I should’ve named you.”

  Jeff set his guitar aside and squished himself into the beanbag. He propped h
is head against the wall and his legs sprawled forward, over sheet music, strewn clothing, shoes and various jewel cases from his CD collection. “I’m a frickin’ super villain. I don’t even know what to do with that.”

  Minutes later, Jeff was asleep.

  He woke late in the morning with sore muscles either from running sixty miles or from sleeping in his beanbag chair. Maybe both. He cracked open the window to air out his stuffy room before going downstairs to pillage the pantry. Jeff couldn’t remember ever feeling so empty of sustenance before.

  “Your house has the oddest vibe,” Pyro said as soon as Jeff got to the bottom of the stairs.

  He jumped, banged his elbow on the corner of the wall, swore under his breath and glared at Pyro. “What are you doing here?”

  “Not a very nice greeting, kid. And again, I must remark on your lack of defenses. Astounding.”

  “Oh, I’m supposed to just know you’re here?” Jeff ran the fingers of his good hand through his hair, oddly self-conscious that he wore the same clothes as the day before.

  “You should pick up something when another S.V. is around. No senses, no defenses. Weird.” Pyro eyed him. “You really should take better care of yourself.”

  She went into the kitchen and pulled out eggs, onion, cheese, bread and butter. She deftly chopped onions and melted butter in a small fry pan. While the onions softened, she whipped together four eggs and some milk and poured them into the pan. The aroma made Jeff groan. The omelet bubbled and popped on the stove, the bread toasted and Pyro shredded cheese. As the finishing touch, she melted the cheese in the fold of the omelet, slid it onto a plate and served it with buttered toast.

  “Have you thought about what you want to do?” she asked as Jeff made short work of the meal.

  “Not really. I fell asleep,” Jeff said.

  She took his plate, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. Then she did the same with the dishes stacked in the sink.

  “You don’t have to do that, Pyro.”