Angel's place was on the edge of the city, conveniently located inside a homey little abandoned warehouse. She didn't even lock the doors, although it was in a weirdly skeevy neighborhood.
Right now I kind of needed some sympathy from the other girl still living within city limits, and I kind of needed to tell her I wasn't with Kitty anymore, and I kind of needed her help.
I spiraled down through the night sky; it was almost morning already. Man.
You're probably asking what the hell is going on. This is what we've been doing:
After They tried to get us to save some fish off of Hawaii, Fang quit, claiming it was demeaning -- which it was. And then the Flock fell apart. Angel and me decided that we could make a living in the city, so we moved there and went into business.
You'd be surprised at how far up the ladder a hench with actual superpowers can get. Superspeed didn't get me jackshit, but flight saved my ass more than once, and helped out a whole bunch when I had to rob people.
Angel wasn't much good at the whole villain deal, so she went for skulking around on the grey side of the law, which worked out well for me when I needed her help, and well for her when I needed someone to bail me out of prison.
I'd actually met Kitty while doing grocery shopping. At the time I was under a guy who called himself Silver Devil, so I was one of the Imps. Yes, we had a group name.
I bumped into her while she was swearing at the self-check machine. It had eaten her "fucking dollar". I spotted her some cash, she offered to help me carry my groceries (for a floaty artist type, she was weirdly nice), and away we went.
We started out meeting every Wednesday for lunch, which eventually escalated to her sharing my room back at the lair.
God, she was beautiful.
Kitty had soulful green eyes, almost-perfect skin (she had acne scars beside her nose, but I didn't mind), and her face looked like God had traced it out of a comic book, with those wide cheekbones and narrow chin. She wasn't as tall as I was, and weighed only a few pounds more than I did. She wore her hair long and undyed, because she liked it in its natural blonde color.
In a word, she was cute.
She ran across Fang while out and about on the streets, and wound up living a double life, toying with him, being way, way in love with me. We both knew she probably didn't have long, but she was basically okay with that.
And now she was dead. I'd known from day one that she was going to wind up dead someday, but it was still a shock.
I hammered on Angel's door, even though I didn't need to. I knew she was standing just on the other side of the door. "Angel," I called, pitching my voice so it would carry through the thick door. "I need to talk to you."
She pulled the door open and shoved a Styrofoam cup of tea into my hands. I sniffed the steam; it was something I couldn't identify. Probably strong.
"I'm so sorry, Max," she said, and I came in from the cold.
She closed the door behind me. It was a dark winter night outside, even though it was getting towards morning. "What are you doing still awake, Ange?" I asked, cupping the tea in my hands.
"Waiting for you." She shrugged and picked up her own cup of tea. "I read minds; I figured you'd show up sooner or later." She looked at me, and for a minute she looked like the little kid I'd raised; innocent, wide-eyed. She'd taken to dark hair and dark eyes for a while a few years back, but now she was back to blonde with blue eyes.
I looked off at the far wall. Angel's place was still pretty familiar to me, despite the fact that I hadn't visited her in years.
Back when I was still Crow.
We Imps used to joke about it; whenever someone decides to make it in villainy, the first thing they do is strike out solo.
They take an ass-whooping from a hero and quickly decide to be someone else's hench. Sure, henches are disposable -- they're like Kleenex to some villains -- but you had job security. Someone like me, who'd managed three and a half years under various villains, was practically a legend in our circles. To get a job, all I had to do was mention the fact that my ex-boss had gotten the shit kicked out of him or been incarcerated again, and now I was outta work.
I'd bought a bottle or three of cheap black hairdye and gone to town on my wings and hair. I lasted about a month, which was enough to get comfortable in that identity before I decided to quit.
It was plenty long enough to make me bitter when Fang decided to go vigilante-hero on his hometown and named himself... go on, guess. Crow.
I sipped from my tea, reflecting over the past. I didn't really miss it, and I still had a place with the Imps. I didn't think I was going to be back, though, because now I had a bona fide origin story, like all the big names did. Dead lover didn't pull as many heartstrings as dead parents, but you worked with what you got.
I stayed long enough to finish my tea, sitting silently with Angel, before I decided it was time to go.
So I left.