The payoff for the foreshadowing begins this chapter. I think the chapters for the rest of the story will be longer, but it depends on how scenes play out. I'm not sure about the number of chapters for the story just yet ("write until the plot is resolved and the characters stop nagging"), but I'm imagining something longer than Red and about a quarter of Dance. The tentative estimate is fifteen chapters, but I don't like planning so much that there's no room for the characters to surprise me.
Reviews are always appreciated. Encourage me to post three chapters inside of a week more often—positive reinforcement does wonders, right?
Chapter Seven
Saturday June 13, 5:43 P.M.
Jinx poked Garfield in the shoulder. She reached through the passenger seat to do so, but her index finger was corporeal even as her hand was translucent smoke. It took no conscious effort on her part. "Free career advice," she said. "Don't go into law. Your brain doesn't twist in the right way, and you don't have the cold in your blood to really enjoy the way cases work."
"There have to be a few lost idealistic souls in the business," Gar protested.
"They're broke, they're miserable, and a good chunk of them end up selling their soul to Slade's boss." Jinx grinned at the shock on Garfield's face. "If I told you that 'gullible' wasn't included in most dictionaries, you'd go look it up to prove me wrong. You're nice, you trust people, and your brain doesn't like twisting to find its way out of a sentence."
"As fascinating as the idea of Gar in law school is…" Victor prompted.
"Right, Mr. Physics wants an answer." Jinx didn't seem perturbed that someone wanted to stay on topic. "I don't know if I have a direct answer for why some things need a wish and why other things are a piece of cake. Turning a torn-up pair of jeans into a very nice pair of tailored suit pants is easy. It'd be like... Garfield running around the block. I'm using the material, altering the appearance and structure."
"Could you make a suit out of nothing?" Victor asked.
"Yes." Jinx grimaced. "I'd rather not, but it is possible. I'd probably stretch my definitions a bit so that air is included in nothing. I'd rather transmute air into a suit than start creating matter from scratch… and don't pull that look with me, physics-boy, this is big magic. Wish-magic. When you're holding that bottle, and you make a wish, it has to happen. Period. The only exception that comes to mind is a wish for more wishes."
"So, turning jeans into these is like me running around the block." Garfield tugged at the pants for emphasis. It had been the oddest fitting of his life. The entire process had taken under thirty seconds for every detail to be finished, and he had watched the denim and cotton change to dark linen. "What's it like to turn air into a suit?"
"Imagine how long it takes for you to run around the block. Now, skip around the world in half that time."
"Ow."
Jinx grinned. "It's kind of a rush, actually. The wish has to happen, so I have enough power to make that happen. Forcefully, if I can't finesse it. I'd rather not make things completely difficult for myself, though, so I try to steer people towards wishes that are actually useful. I can Fairy Godmother it up on my own steam."
Garfield scowled playfully. "Okay, I resent that one."
Jinx poked him again. "Hey, good things happen! Vic's on his way to the ball, here, I get to joke around. I'm staying out of sight for the entire dinner party to keep Trigon happy. I need to get my share of jokes in sometime." Jinx stared up at a few of the skyscrapers, seemingly at random. "This town's getting huge. I don't remember a few of these buildings. Would you stay around here if you were picking places, Victor, or try your chances somewhere else?"
Victor frowned thoughtfully as he made his way through rush-hour traffic. "My dad's still in this area, but so is STAR Labs. They don't collaborate and they don't share ideas, so I'd rather go to an area where I'd actually draw something to the city. Here, I'd be competing for every scientist and technician I got."
Garfield hadn't thought that far ahead. His best friend might have the chance of a lifetime, and it wouldn't be in California. His thoughts must have shown in his expression, if Jinx had fixed him with a sympathetic look.
"Cheer up, Gar, it's going to work out just fine," Jinx said confidently. "I'll be right on scene. Vic's right suit pocket is bottle-approved. I'll make it all work out right."
"Precognition isn't power that comes with being a jinn." Victor expected a joking denial.
Jinx only smiled. "It's all going to end up just fine. You've got me on your side, right?"
Saturday June 13, 6:13 P.M.
Slade Wilson's only consolation was that his Black RaspBerry had to be on, and he had to continue checking the messages. If "special business" consented to occur, Slade would even have an excuse to leave the interminable meeting. There were regular uprisings on the demon side of holdings, and Slade would be on the phone for hours straightening out ruffled feathers and calling in every favor he had wrangled to smooth out the spat. It was not at all the life he had imagined for himself, but Slade had been out of options. Trigon had restored his life, but the price had been steeper than imagined.
The dinner meeting was more horrid than usual, which was saying something. Slade was to the right of Victor Stone, which he imagined to be a snub. Trigon had taken the seat between Victor Stone and Richard Grayson. The three of them quickly proved to be thick as thieves, and just as friendly.
Slade frowned at the RaspBerry. There was no harm in an inner monologue, but it was less satisfying when no one else could appreciate a barb. If he had just one stroke of luck, all of that could change. It would take something impressive, but all it would take was one instance where fate was on his side. Skill, brains, and strength would do him little good against Trigon, for all his planning.
Meeting with Madam Rouge had been an unexpected opportunity. She had fascinating ideas for making money, but her team's reconnaissance left much to be desired. Rouge had known that Trigon was an impressive businessman with the ability to hire the very best, but hadn't been able to deduce that the man and the demon were the same. It was to be expected, Slade supposed. Rouge and Mallah seemed to be pulling all the weight for the Brotherhood, recently, and their support base was shrinking rapidly. If his information was correct, their largest recent purchase was his old base. Rouge hadn't admitted as much in their brief chat, but he hadn't admitted to his current association with Trigon. He had only told her to hold off on whatever plans she had for half an hour, and to look much more closely at Trigon before making any moves she may regret.
Slade had an idea about the Brotherhood's goals, given Rouge's presence across the street from the restaurant's less prestigious entrance, but didn't feel the need to warn Trigon. If it was truly a matter to concern Trigon, then the demon should be more in touch with current events. He trusted the care of his daughter to a naïve alien girl with more strength than cunning. Slade sincerely doubted that Koriand'r could counter anything but a direct assault.
He half-listened as Trigon's latest fascination presented a few pieces of technology that sounded promising. In Slade's experience, nothing worked that well. Victor Stone was a visionary angling for funding. It would be nice if one ring could disguise the entire body, but no project Slade had seen worked. Full-body concealment remained the best bet for someone wishing to be in disguise.
That was Slade's stance. It changed the instant that Victor Stone treated them to a demonstration, and removed a class ring from his right middle finger. His entire body transformed, presumably, but only his hands and head showed the changes. Slade caught an odd ripple in cloth as Victor moved to replace the ring, from a vestige of his old reflexes when he'd had better things to do than send e-mails for Trigon.
At first, he thought that Victor Stone was carrying a gun. It took only half a moment to discount that idea. The shape had been the complete wrong size and shape. It was small and cylindrical, and would easily fit in Slade's hand.
It was a completely irrational thought, which meant that it might be a gut instinct kicking in with the right idea. Slade played it cool, and there was not even a flicker of excitement to alert Trigon's obnoxious progeny. Victor Stone was having an incredible run of luck. There had been a third person in the car with him uninjured by the crash, one that he had not seen despite glancing in the rear-view mirror. Trigon and Kore had seen her, easily, while Raven wasn't sure that she had seen anyone. Slade pointedly glanced at the windows before removing his suit jacket.
Trigon caught on instantly. "Good idea, Slade, we might be here a long while. It gets too hot in California to keep with the formalities the entire time."
Slade ignored the polite conversation with the "ladies," about how they were clever enough to wear something with no sleeves. He pretended to focus intently on some new e-mail coming in on his Black RaspBerry, but he was watching Victor Stone's right pocket gap to reveal a brilliantly pink glass bottle. Stone wasn't the type for perfume.
"Trigon, something's come up," Slade said, hurriedly replacing the suit jacket. His rush made him clumsy, and his arm knocked against Stone as he moved. His hand happened to slip against the right suit pocket. "My apologies, Mr. Stone." The overcompensating swing of his other arm drew attention, and the bottle was indeed small enough to fit neatly into his right hand. He tucked it into his pocket in the same motion, and felt the weight as he stood. Slade had both hands on the RaspBerry as he headed for the door. Conversation resumed, and Victor was instantly drawn back into communication about his hologram-generating rings. With luck, the man wouldn't know that anything was amiss until it was far too late.
Slade could head straight for the bench across from the parking lot, but he had plenty of time before the deadline he had imposed on Rouge. He would get the situation under control, and then inform Rouge and Mallah of the changes that made their ridiculous plan possible. Instead, he walked calmly to his car, typing nonsense into his RaspBerry as he walked. Two of the room's walls were entirely made out of windows, and Trigon might just be watching him. He would drive to an out-of-sight area, and everyone would assume that he was in search of better reception. In truth, he was looking for an area where he would not be subject to curious gazes.
If this worked, he'd burn the RaspBerry. With napalm.
Saturday June 13, 6:28 P.M.
Jinx knew something was up. She just didn't know quite what until the stopper of the bottle came out, and she saw someone that definitely was not Victor or Garfield. From Gar's description, he looked a lot like Slade. She'd never pictured the man hanging around in an underground parking structure, but there they were. No other cars were present, and the sodium-vapor lights gave both of them an unattractive yellow tinge.
She suppressed her initial reaction for one of her more charming smiles, and the trick of sitting cross-legged on absolutely nothing. Jinx almost regretted her choice of look, now, but maybe it was for the best. Let Slade underestimate her because she was wearing a pair of spectacularly ripped jeans and a fitted black-and-purple t-shirt. To finish off the impression of "clueless schoolgirl with a perfume bottle accessory," she had bare feet, canary yellow toenail polish, and a careless ponytail.
"Hey, new winner on the magical lottery!" Jinx said when the man didn't say a word. "So, you're not quick with the introductions, but I'll guess that you're Slade Wilson. I'm Jinx." She would have held out her hand, but that would have led to the awkward moment when she stood there and he stared at her. She settled for shooting off a few pink sparks from the end of her fingers.
"Your guess is correct." He looked at her for a moment, then considered the bottle in his hand. "You were assisting Victor Stone."
"Yes, but to be fair I just gave him the chance at all of the above. Twist a few strands of things-to-be around, hope for the best, and there you have it. Shiny new career." Jinx was already getting bored with the default expression on Slade's face, that look that implied she was less interesting than what he had scraped from the bottom of his shoes. "Wish consultation is free and highly recommended. Any ideas what you want for number one? The only rule that comes to mind is that you can't wish for more wishes. Three's the magic number."
Slade smirked. Jinx decided that it really wasn't an improvement from his previous expression.
"I wish," he began slowly, "that you will obey every order, command, and instruction that I say to you, while doing nothing to subvert my ability to give said direction."
Jinx frowned. She couldn't find any immediate loopholes, and she didn't like that wish. "You could have just asked."
"That," Slade said coolly, "would give the potential for refusal. You will not tell Trigon or Koriand'r of my part in any of the business to follow, nor give information to any person who will proceed to inform them. You will not tell through word, action, inaction, writing, or implication."
Jinx's brow furrowed as she thought. "Okay, again with the attitude problem. I could help you adjust that, no wish required. I'll guess that you have some kind of plan, if you're coming on strong with wish one and don't show any signs of slowing down. Are you going to tell me what's going on, or try to micromanage this show from the driver's seat?"
"You will learn of your part as necessary," Slade said curtly.
Jinx pulled a face at him when Slade stalked away, clearly expecting her to follow. He wasn't fun. Maybe she'd get to have words with Victor, sometime, for letting a sleazeball steal something right out of his pocket. She just might see him again, especially if Slade was sticking around in Jump City for some kind of errand. As a matter of fact, she might make a point of finding Victor. She hadn't been exposed to anyone as irritating as Slade since that idiot struggling with a GPS just outside of Albuquerque.
Slade thought he had everything under control, including her. He was wrong, but what was the fun in telling him that straight off? She hadn't found a loophole in wish one, but already had two different ways to circumvent the first pair of commands. Jinx would let him have his fun for a couple days, if only to see what he was trying, and then set the man straight on genies, wishes, and precisely why mortals didn't give orders to fire-demons.
Saturday June 13, 7:03 P.M.
The dinner had been excellent. Richard Grayson was willing to take a portion of the blame for what happened next. He realized that he couldn't have actually caused events to occur, and that cause-and-effect relationships aren't truly affected by the stray thoughts to cross a person's mind…
Richard had considered that this was the most prestigious event he had ever attended with no interruption from a costumed villain. It was only natural for him to remember this, considering his company. Victor Stone had been almost casual in revealing a little of his past history, and had been kind enough to demonstrate several amazing features of his prosthetics that were decades ahead of current models. Garfield Logan was the child of two scientists that Bruce had been recruiting for decades, but the Logans were completely loyal to STAR Labs. They would accept Wayne Foundation funding for their public-works projects, but their profitable works all benefited STAR.
Slade Wilson was still oddly familiar in a way Richard couldn't place, and had left before the appetizers even arrived. He hadn't contributed much in the way of conversation, however, so he hadn't been much missed. Trigon was extremely exuberant, and much friendlier than most CEOs. When he was interested in a project, such as Victor's hologram-generating rings or new ideas for delivering alternative energy to a car's energy, he made it clear to everyone at the table. His daughter Raven was as quiet as her father was loud, but Richard had heard a few snatches of a second conversation. Raven seemed bored with talk about the business details, but her neighbor was polite enough to start small talk. Raven and Garfield Logan were talking about pushy friends and books, from the few things that Richard had heard.
Kore was a different matter. She was an odd mix of overprotective friend and easygoing dinner guest, who would occasionally ask a pointed question about some aspect of the business. Mostly, however, she studiously ignored her friend and looked faintly smug.
They had finished the entrée when Richard had the forbidden thought. No one had attacked them for the entire meal. The superstitious feeling that followed the thought was natural. The group was eclectic even for Gotham standards, and he wasn't just Richard Grayson, heir to the Wayne fortune, rising star in the business world. That status meant a yearly visits from Poison Ivy, and maybe Penguin trying for a bribe. He was also Robin, lately Nightwing, which put him on first-name terms with all the rogues Gotham had to offer.
It wasn't that only Wayne parties were targeted for costumed villains saving up for their latest "kill the Batman and the little Robin too" spree. Anyone of a certain social caliber expected to be attacked. It was practically a mark of the social class in Gotham, like owning a certain number of luxury cars or vacationing in the right places. Richard had just been the one to disappear to the bathroom (or the car, or under a table, or into the gardens), reappear in costume to fight off the criminal, and later reappear as a dazed and innocent party guest that had no idea what had just happened.
He had only thought about it. It had been the first dinner meeting in months where no one had come crashing through the window.
Within seconds, Trigon had slumped forward, unconscious. Kore screamed a war cry in a foreign language, leaping to her feet, but she fell forward in the next moment.
For half a moment, Richard swore he was seeing things. Raven had stood, so fast that the knee-length red dress flared out around her. Her eyes seemed to catch the color from the dress and hold it in an unnaturally red flare, even as black streaked from her hands— but in the next moment, she sat heavily in her chair, conscious but winded.
"They're alive," Raven said, expression promising retribution. "We're being watched, I would imagine, so someone must have hit them with a tranquilizer."
Richard would swear that she was lying, but had no better explanation. The windows were intact, the door was closed, and two of the six people in the room were unconscious. Raven looked winded. "Enemies?"
"My father's far from popular." Raven stood, bracing herself against her chair. "Kore's my bodyguard, and was much more of a threat than she may have appeared."
"I had guessed that, if your father trusted your safety with no further guards," Richard said. He had noticed Kore's warrior stance, especially paired with the wide smile and the lavender dress, but now was not the time. "Victor, how much can you sense?"
"I have heartbeats on both of them, in a range that feels about normal," Victor said instantly. "Gar, now's probably not the best time, but kidnappers don't like special, alright?"
Richard watched as the two of them exchanged a look. They were old friends, if they instantly understood each other with no further words. Victor had moved to the door, and Garfield had moved to clumsily cover Raven, even as the windows across both outside walls shattered at once. Gar didn't flinch, and Victor's posture only turned aggressive.
Richard had seen only a flash of an impossibly long arm, but that was enough for his mind to flash back. "Shit." Slade Wilson didn't look familiar, he sounded familiar, because Deathstroke the masked assassin was missing that eye and had been off the radar since a "fatal" accident. No hero had trusted news of the man's death. Slade had been speaking with a flexible nondescript woman, who was now breaking open windows with a flexible limb.
He was sending a text message on his cell phone without taking his eyes off the windows. He had moved to cover Raven, the likeliest target with Trigon and Kore out of commission, but could send the gist of the situation to Bruce in a minute.
Bruce. Will be delayed. Rouge and Slade kidnapping Raven Trigon. Logan Jr. and I going along for the ride. Don't wait up more than 2 days. R.
He pressed Send just as Rouge and Mallah showed themselves. Richard dropped the cell phone. It was better than letting Rouge have anything that could trace back to Bruce. Batman could take care of himself, but the last thing they needed was a new costumed baddie snooping around the manor. With that message, he'd bought himself some peace. Signing as Richard meant trouble, R meant that he could handle it. The Brotherhood thought that he was a civilian, and Richard knew there was something different about Raven.
"Miss Raven." Rouge smiled coolly. "You will come with us, will you not? It would be a shame for your father and companion to come to tragedy while helpless."
"Garfield. Richard. You don't need to be involved," Raven hissed.
Richard and Garfield glanced at each other. "Little late for that," Richard said quietly.
Garfield smiled apologetically, but didn't back down at Raven's very disapproving glare. "It'd be way easier to just drag us along, if she's going," Garfield announced bravely.
Mallah scowled, unimpressed. "Why would we want a couple snots like you?"
Richard stepped forward to challenge him. He'd faced worse than an overgrown gorilla. Hell, he'd already faced an overgrown gorilla back home in Bludhaven. "I'm Bruce Wayne's ward and only heir. Gar's parents are loaded. Our guardians would rather pay up than hear we let you take her alone."
Rouge smirked. "You won't fight for her freedom?"
"Not when we'd lose and just leave her worse off, no," Garfield retorted.
Raven was still glaring daggers at both of her elective helpers, but they didn't so much as turn around. "Victor, would you please look out for Kore and my father?" she asked politely.
"To the best of my ability. You have my word."
Raven nodded curtly. Her powers had abandoned her, and she had no chance of beating Rouge or Mallah in hand-to-hand combat. It would be far smarter to go quietly and plan an escape later. When she was back, she could murder Kore for talking her into the dress and the high heels.
Richard led the way. Garfield and Victor had a four-second conversation, speaking too quietly for him to overhear anything but a murmur. Raven was fully composed as she accepted Richard's help through the window frame, and as the three of them were promptly escorted to the back of a van with no windows on the back compartment. Garfield jumped up first to hand her into the car, Richard spotted her from the ground, and the three of them were the calmest kidnapping victims the Brotherhood of Evil could ever hope to have.
Richard was already planning their way out. He had asked for two days, and he just might have them. Should that deadline pass… Bruce was a lot more protective than he let on, and the Justice League might just decide that the Brotherhood of Evil merited a visit.
Saturday June 13, 7:36 P.M.
Kore and Trigon were unconscious for a little over half an hour. Victor had already dealt with the restaurant owner, given a preliminary statement to the police, filed a report with the Justice League's civilian outreach program, and moved Kore back into her chair after the paramedics decided that neither Kore nor Trigon seemed injured or drugged in any way. As far as the EMT training was concerned, Kore and Trigon were perfectly fine. They just weren't conscious.
Victor didn't realize the real problem until Kore and Trigon started to come around. Madam Rouge and Mallah had kidnapped Raven. Kore and Trigon, who were notoriously overprotective of their charge, were going to wake up and find her gone. Victor was going to have a strange story, a few very confused eyewitnesses, shattered glass, and his electronic eye's video playback to reassure them that he'd had nothing to do with Raven's disappearance.
Maybe Garfield and Richard weren't as crazy as Victor thought.
Victor had one ally left, and had about five seconds to ask if she would bring Trigon up to speed. He was sure that she could smooth the entire affair out, even if it took a carefully worded wish—
Victor's hand found the bottom of his empty right suit pocket just as Kore and Trigon stirred. Jinx was gone.
