Vortex's Lieutenant

Trigger Warning: cussing, mentions of drug use, mention of abuse, violence.

Black snakes curled around Rikka's ankles as she tried to run, reaching for the beam of light before her. A girl's voice cried out for her to hurry, and she begged them to wait. A little girl's silhouette stood out against the bright light. But the snakes coiled around Rikka's ankles.

"Please, wait!" Rikka begged, reaching. The young girl turned. A distressed frown creased her features, and she held out a hand, wind whipping her dark hair around.

"Rikka!"

"Sora, don't leave me!"

Another girl picked up little Sora, who screamed. The older girl faced Rikka, who sank into the pit of snakes like they were quicksand. "I'm sorry, Rikka. But you've already been bit."

"No, it's not too late! I can be saved, please!"

"We just can't take the risk." The older girl, still cradling a screaming Sora, walked into the light. The snakes coiled around Rikka's arms. They sank their fangs all throughout her body, until she was completely covered. Rikka screamed as the snakes dragged her deeper into darkness.

Gasping, Rikka sat upright, pulling a blanket that somehow entangled itself around her neck while she slept. She wiped her forehead, and then rubbed the perspiration on her fingertips onto her pajama pants. Her own screams rang in her head. She tapped her phone screen to check the time. Three thirty-six am. Great.

Kicking off the covers, Rikka dressed into her training attire. Usually, her schedule did not require for Rikka to be up and ready until five forty-five, but there was no use in getting that extra bit of sleep. Her room was simple to navigate in the dark. A dresser pressed against one wall, and her twin-sized bed sat squished in the corner of the room. Through the open doorway at the foot of Rikka's bed was a tiny bathroom. Her room was the only one with a bathroom. Everyone else used the communal bathroom.

Room was a generous word for it. Rikka always thought of it as a cell, even though she had free access in and out of it. Maybe it was more like a military-issued bedroom. Practical and efficient. Still, something about the heavy steel door that granted access to the long hall seemed more like a way to cage Rikka in rather than let her in and out. It would be very easy for that door to slide shut and leave her locked inside.

Rikka's boots thumped softly against the concrete floor. Steel door identical to Rikka's bedroom one flashed past her as she hurried to the elevator at the end of the corridor. Everyone who wasn't working was still asleep. The florescent lights above buzzed, and their brightness hurt Rikka's eyes. She kept her head bowed to provide some shadow.

The elevator brought her further underground to the training level of the compound. At one point, having an underground compound seemed like a faraway dream for Rikka's mother, Vortex. But the villainess had made it a reality. Rikka helped oversee this particular one outside of San Francisco, California while Vortex was off making sure her other facilities were intact.

The training level consisted of a gym, a combat arena, an obstacle course, and an indoor pool. A running track circled the entire perimeter of the training area. Rikka headed for it first, and jogged six laps. Then, she worked out for about thirty minutes, dampening her training clothes with sweat. Shaking slightly, Rikka headed for the obstacle course.

After starting the timer, Rikka took off. She climbed up the rock wall, and then swung across the bars to the other side. She jumped, rolled, climbed, and ran until she reached the end, heaving for breath. Seven minutes. Not bad.

"I thought the idea was to use your Quirk?" called a man from the sidelines.

Rikka rolled her eyes and trudged in his direction, her arms and legs shaking. Her chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths. Sweat sheened her skin. "You can't always rely on your Quirk, Alaric."

"Touché," Alaric grinned. God, he was such a cocky asshole. Cute, but cocky. "Besides, with yours, you'd just float through all of it like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

"Not necessarily," Rikka huffed. "It takes a lot of energy for me to lift myself."

"Sounds like you need more practice." Alaric grinned and winked at her.

Rikka glowered. "I've had plenty of practice."

Her entire childhood, basically. Up until her late teen years, Rikka had spent almost all her free time training. Her mother wanted to rule the world, to destroy heroes and exterminate all Quirkless people, and she couldn't succeed without powerful children. Too bad Rikka was the last child she had left. Within her grasp, anyway.

"What are you doing up? Thought it was your night off."

"Couldn't sleep," Rikka muttered, heading to the water fountain. She drank deeply, ignoring Alaric hovering behind her.

"Sorry to hear that. You know what could help you sleep, though? Spending the night with me."

Rikka straightened up and wiped her mouth. "Every time I start to vaguely enjoy your company, you say something like that."

"Come on, Rikka," Alaric rolled his eyes. "Even your mother, queen of villains herself, keeps hinting at us getting together."

"To breed," Rikka snapped, "not for any other reason."

Alaric's face darkened. "Then there's really nothing holding us back, huh?"

"Dignity."

"Dignity," Alaric laughed. "Says the girl who ran off to be with her lowlife boyfriend and is currently a stripper."

Rikka whipped around, her eyes glowing with violet light. The same glow appeared around her fingers and Alaric's throat. He choked as Rikka's telepathic hold on his throat tightened. "Don't forget who you're talking to. Remember that I killed that boyfriend, and I'm dancing to further Vortex's empire. What are you doing? Bullying local criminals? My work will lead us to real kingpins who threaten Vortex's reign over this country."

Alaric gagged, and his fingers clawed at his throat, trying to pry off Rikka's telepathic grip.

Rikka smiled at his suffering. The way his eyes bulged sent a shiver down her spine. Something about seeing men who considered themselves powerful on their knees before her was far more addicting than any drug she'd tried. "Oh, what was that? I can't hear you over the sound of you suffocating."

Alaric extended a hand toward her. Rikka released him and jumped out of the way of a blast of green poison that shot from his palm. He landed facedown on the floor, coughing and wheezing. The poison seared through the floor.

Rikka folded her arms, glowering at the mess. "Get someone to clean that up. And don't ever repeat the mistake of saying whatever you want to me just because my mother wants us to breed. Next time, I won't hesitate to rip out your heart like the last boy who wanted to fuck me."

With her hair swishing behind her, Rikka left Alaric coughing on the floor and headed back to her room. Once safe behind the soundproof walls of her room, she clutched her chest and blinked back tears. It wasn't true, of course. Ripping out her boyfriend's heart hadn't been the way she killed him. That was something she liked to tell underlings who defied her just because she was a woman. You'd think that her being Vortex's daughter would earn her more respect, but Vortex's underlings didn't respect Vortex's least favorite daughter.

Well, that was harsh. Rikka's older sister, Asiaq, was definitely the least favorite. But their little sister, Sora, was the favorite. She was practically a god in Vortex's eyes. Even though Sora wasn't kidnapped by Asiaq; she fled from Vortex's grasp willingly. But Vortex always saw Sora's escape as a kidnapping, and Asiaq was guilty.

Rikka heaved a sigh and ripped her sweaty clothes off. She dressed in her lieutenant's outfit, complete with a full-faced mask to increase her intimidation factor. Most criminals—even minor ones—weren't intimidated by Rikka normally.

Flexing her gloved fingers, Rikka stepped out of her room and headed for the elevator. Instead of taking it to descend further underground, she rode it up to the surface. People milled about their work, some patrolling to protect the facility, some heading off to do Vortex's dirty work… Like Rikka. She headed for the garage, where she mounted her motorcycle, and took off.

As one of America's most prominent villain's lieutenant, much of Rikka's job consisted of keeping underlings in line. Occasionally, it involved getting close to other kingpins and more prominent villains to establish connections and create trade between organizations. One time, Rikka even went undercover as a fledgling hero to gain access to some of their secrets. And there were a lot of dirty secrets that American Pro Heroes kept hidden away.

Lately, however, Rikka did a lot of shakedowns and scaring underlings. Whenever Vortex was off seeing to her other facilities, some of her underlings got bold. One of the drug rings—Rotgut—operating in San Francisco, to which Rikka currently sped, was one such set of underlings. They hadn't paid Vortex's portion in two weeks.

When Rikka reached the rendezvous point, she rolled her eyes. It looked like Ethan—the underling who usually paid Rikka—brought some underlings of his own, including his boss, Red Eye.

Red Eye got his name for his Quirk, which essentially gave him X-ray vision. It wasn't useful in a fight or anything, but it was particularly handy for criminal activity. Rikka counted five goons, plus Ethan and Red Eye. They were looking for a fight.

"Hello, boys," Rikka greeted. Her mask deepened and metallicized her voice. It helped her appear more intimidating when she needed to do shakedowns like these. She wasn't stupid; Rikka was pretty and had a soft—if flat—voice. Without her mask, she wouldn't come across as scary until she used her Quirk. "Let's skip formalities. You haven't paid Vortex, and she's getting impatient."

"Why doesn't Vortex come and tell us herself? This is Rotgut territory, not Vortex's. She don't own us."

Rikka tilted her head. "Have you forgotten that it was Vortex who got you this territory? She does own you. Nice try, though."

Red Eye smirked and ran his tongue across his decaying teeth. Rikka wrinkled her nose. Red Eye stepped toward her slowly. He stood at eye-level with her. "I heard Vortex is sick. Getting weak. Losing her touch."

Rikka gritted her teeth. "She's not."

"Really? You sound like you're trying to convince yourself."

"I'm not so sure you'd be brave enough to say this to Vortex, now would you?"

Red Eye's grin faltered. "Maybe she's lost her touch."

Rikka's head spun slightly as she activated her Quirk. Violet light glowed around her hands. A blast of psionic energy knocked Red Eye back, slamming him into the brick wall of the alley. His goons fell back, too. A searing pain flashed in Rikka's head. She clenched her teeth to keep from doubling over and crying out.

Red Eye tried to straighten up. "You fucking guard dog—"

Rikka kicked him in the chest and placed a foot over his throat. Behind her, Red Eye's men pulled out guns on her. "Attack, and I'll step on his throat. He'll be dead before you can do anything."

"Stand down, damn it!" Red Eye coughed.

Rikka leaned toward him. "Pay what you owe, or I'll kill you and every one of your men here."

"Ethan," wheezed Red Eye, "get the money. Now!"

"Here, here!" Ethan whimpered.

Rikka twisted, still leaving her foot pressed gently against Red Eye's neck. She snatched the cash out of Ethan's hands, counted it, and then turned to Red Eye. "You're lucky I'm way nicer than Vortex. Had you said any of this to her, your entire little gang would be an ashen crater. Got it?"

"Yes," spat Red Eye.

Rikka released her hold on him and trekked to her motorcycle. She placed the stack of cash into her backpack, mounted her bike, and left the Rotgut group.

When Rikka returned to the compound, the atmosphere had shifted. The guards stood straighter. It looked a bit cleaner. Nobody looked tired—and if they did, they hid it. Some of the guards even saluted Rikka as she walked past. Her shoulders tensed. Vortex had returned to the San Francisco compound.

Rikka took the elevator to the first subterranean level of the compound. As soon as she stepped off it, Alaric hounded her as if he'd been waiting for her return—and acting as if he hadn't almost been killed this morning.

"Rikka," he greeted.

"Where is she?"

"I wouldn't. She's in a mood right now."

"What kind of mood?"

"What do you think, Ri?"

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, sorry… Vortex is pissed because she can't locate the kid."

Rikka worked her jaw, and her pace slowed. Ever since Sora escaped with Asiaq and the twins, Vortex had been hellbent on tracking them down. But Vortex couldn't exhaust everything she had on finding Sora. Vortex's climb to the top villain of America trumped her desire to get Sora back, otherwise she probably would've captured Sora a long time ago. When Sora and Asiaq fled to Europe, that made Vortex's hunt almost impossible, until an unexpected ally showed up and gave them monthly reports on Sora's location. Why Vortex had not gone after Sora, Rikka had no idea.

"Vortex hasn't heard anything from her contact?"

"Nope. He's past due."

Weird. Vortex's mysterious contact had never missed a rendezvous before. Rikka folded her arms. "She's in her office?"

"Yeah."

Rikka headed down the corridor to the massive oak doors. This part of the compound looked less prison-esque and more homey. Rikka knocked on the door softly. No answer. She pushed open the door and left Alaric on the other side.

Vortex sat on the floor, her back pressed against her desk. Her hair hung in greasy black strands. A bottle of bourbon sat half-empty beside her. Papers littered the floor. Books had been torn from their shelves and tossed aside. Vortex muttered to herself, her face shrouded with harsh shadows cast by the lamp on her desk.

"Mother?" Rikka asked timidly.

Vortex's head snapped up. Good God, she looked like a corpse. "Rikka! What have I told you about calling me that while on duty?"

Rikka removed her mask. "I'm not on duty, Mother."

Vortex's plump lips curled with a snarl, and she stood up, leaning heavily against her desk. She had once been a strong woman. A seductress, even. But at the moment, she looked rather gaunt and sickly.

Rikka tensed, ready to create a forcefield to block an attack from her mother. Instead, Vortex doubled over, coughing. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor. With a gasp, Rikka rushed to Vortex's side. Rikka helped her mother to her feet. Vortex leaned all of her weight against Rikka, who ushered the villainess into an armchair. Rikka knelt beside it, feeling Vortex's feverish face.

"You overused your Quirk again, didn't you?"

"Had to," wheezed Vortex. "There was a hero…"

Rikka's brow furrowed. "I should get the doctor—"

"No," Vortex hissed, catching Rikka's wrist. "Please, sit with me. Don't leave me."

"Alright," Rikka relented, kneeling back down.

"I'm getting weaker, my child." Vortex dissolved into a coughing fit. She covered her mouth, and when she removed her hand, blood dotted her palm. A chill rippled down Rikka's spine. Her mother wasn't just getting weaker. She was dying. "We need to find Sora. Your sister is the only one who can succeed me."

Hot irrational anger flared in Rikka's chest. Her blood thrashed in her head. Of course. Perfect little Sora was the answer to everything in Vortex's mind. Never mind the fact that Sora fucking fled Vortex, and Rikka was the one who did every goddamn little thing that Vortex asked—

"Mother, you have me."

"I need her…" Vortex insisted. "And we can't find her!"

"Why do you need Sora? I've never left you, but she has."

Vortex cupped Rikka's cheek. "I have a plan for everything, daughter. Sora is part of that plan, and so are you."

Some of the tension left Rikka's body. She needed to trust her mother, and trust that Vortex had a plan to give them the best life possible. Right? Still, that voice in the back of Rikka's mind nagged her: You're not worthy to Vortex, you don't matter, only perfect little Sora matters, and Vortex will never love you like she loves Sora.

Rikka grimaced as Vortex coughed again. "Let me get you some help…"

"No," Vortex pushed herself into an upright position. "Get Alaric. I need to speak with you both."

With a sigh, Rikka retrieved Alaric from the hall and faced her mother. Now that Alaric was in the room, Rikka shed her compassion for her mother and stood tall, hands clasped behind her back. Vortex straightened in her seat, though she leaned heavily against the right armrest. She asked for a report on what they'd accomplished in the three weeks she'd been away. Alaric spoke before Rikka even parted her lips, much to her annoyance. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as Alaric puffed his chest and rambled about keeping trying to unite local gangs under Vortex's banner. He'd managed to convince two gangs, but the others were still a work in progress. That was putting the turf wars between local gangs of minor villains lightly. Still, Vortex seemed pleased.

"And you, Rikka? What have you been up to?"

"Well, Red Eye thought it was a good idea to challenge your authority, but I put him and the Rotguts in line."

Vortex's brow crinkled. "Strange. The Rotguts aren't usually bold. Whatever inspired them to do so?"

Rikka shifted her weight. "I believe word has gotten out about your… illness."

A sigh hissed through Vortex's lips. "I'll have to prove to them that whatever they've heard is inaccurate."

"I've already handled the Rotguts," said Rikka, lifting a hand as her mother attempted to get up.

"I think what's more pressing is handling who is spreading these rumors," said Alaric.

Vortex rubbed her chin. "Perhaps."

"How would we even find that out? There are so many people involved with us that information will leak no matter what," Rikka argued, folding her arms.

"The best way is to show them my strength," said Vortex, moving to get up again. Her hands shook as she tried. Rikka rushed forward, hands hovering to catch her mother if she fell. Vortex's body wobbled as she stood, and Rikka caught her, easing the villainess into the armchair.

"We should really get you to the doctor…"

"No, no," huffed Vortex. "I want to hear the rest of your report."

"I've overseen the training of the new recruits that Alaric brought in," Rikka replied, returning to her formal stance.

"What about the club? I haven't heard much about that endeavor lately."

Rikka pushed aside the prickling heat that washed down her back and stirred up nausea in her stomach. "I've figured out how Vaughn is stealing from you."

"Oh?"

"Since the club operates mostly on cash, Vaughn skims off the top. Not enough to really be noticed. He's mainly stealing from the girls. He's cut into their paychecks and demands a cut from their dances."

"Well, I don't really care about those filthy girls," Vortex waved off. "But how much is he taking each month from the club?"

Rikka's stomach knotted. "I'm not sure."

Vortex scowled. "You're not sure? How are you not sure? You've been working there for nearly six months! How have you not found out anything useful? What are you doing there?"

"The same thing I do for every mission," snapped Rikka. "I build a repour with the people and work my way up."

"You sure you don't just like shaking your tits in people's faces?" Alaric muttered.

Instead of defending her daughter, Vortex's lips twisted with a smirk. Rikka's face flushed.

"You'll recall that I'm the one who suggested busting in there immediately and demanding that Vaughn pay what he owes, but you insisted I go undercover because we might find other connections and advantages there."

"And have you?" Vortex prompted.

"Yes," Rikka managed around the lump in her throat. "Axiom of the Archimedes Guild, one of your biggest rivals here on the West Coast."

Vortex's eyebrows shot up. "Really? He's a regular?"

"And I'm one of his favorites," Rikka confirmed.

"I want him dead," replied Vortex. "Kill him, and get my money from Vaughn. You've been at that club too long."

Rikka's brow puckered. "Do you want me to make it look accidental—"

"No. I want to send a message to the Archimedes Guild, and to anyone else in that club. If you step on my territory, and you defy me, you die."

Rikka worked her jaw. "Do you want me to kill Vaughn?"

"No. Just scare him. He's a spineless man. He won't attempt to steal from me again if you scare him enough."

Rikka tilted her head. "Instead of giving Vaughn a second chance, put someone else in charge of the club."

"Who?"

"The dancers," said Rikka. "Let one of them oversee it. They won't be harassed by one of their own."

Steepling her fingers, Vortex leaned forward. "Have you gone soft, daughter? Your concern for these girls is so palpable, it's disgusting."

A hot flash rolled down Rikka's back. She cleared her throat. "I'm not concerned. It's a logical choice."

Alaric laughed. "How? Just because those whores work at a club doesn't mean they can run it."

"Topaz can," said Rikka. "She's in school for business, and she used to be the manager at her other job. Look, the two of you have no idea what goes on in that club. I do. Do you know how many high rollers, politicians, and crime lords frequent that place? Do you know how many secrets get spilled? Those idiots get drunk and horny enough and chat with each other. They don't see the girls as anything but objects. So, they say shit they're not supposed to. Sometimes, they say stuff that could cripple their careers."

"Get to your point," sighed Vortex.

"Hire the girls on as spies. Let them control the club, their hours, and their pay. Better their lives, and in exchange, they'll give you secrets. Better their lives, and you'll advance your business."

Vortex's face pinched with a frown as she considered Rikka's proposal. It wasn't the most foolproof idea, but Rikka couldn't leave those girls behind. Not after what she'd seen Vaughn do to them in the pass. Not after she'd lived it herself. Vortex dipped her head. "Fine. But make sure you lay out the same ground rules that we did for Vaughn."

"Yes, Mother."

"And take care of this by the end of this week."

"I will."

Rikka stood outside the dinky diner, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. While San Francisco usually remained the same temperature year-round, it chilled during the night. Dahlia wasn't usually late, but…

"Rikka!" A cheerful voice called. Despite trying to keep a neutral expression, Rikka's face softened as Dahlia, one of the dancers she'd worked with for the past few months, hurried around the corner. It had become a tradition for them to get something to eat before their shift whenever they shared one.

Rikka tried to ignore the way her heart lifted just by seeing Dahlia. Whenever she felt low after being around Vortex, or irritated with Alaric's flirting, Dahlia's cheerfulness managed to brighten Rikka's mood. Dahlia looped her arm through Rikka's.

"I don't know about you, but I am in the mood for breakfast for dinner!"

Rikka smiled softly as the two of them entered the diner and sat at their usual booth. "Breakfast for dinner?"

"I used to do that with my mom before she passed," said Dahlia. "We'd make pancakes at midnight. The kitchen would always be such a mess whenever I 'helped.'" Dahlia mimed quotation marks when she said helped. "I usually asked for cereal for dinner a lot of nights, too."

"Sounds like you had a sugar problem."

Dahlia grinned. "What, you never had cereal for dinner?"

"My mother didn't keep a lot of sugary things in the house," said Rikka, shifting uncomfortably. "If we had ramen for dinner, it was because Mother was out of town and left my incompetent older sister in charge."

"So, you've never had breakfast for dinner?"

"No."

"What kind of childhood did you have?" Dahlia lifted a brow.

Rikka's mouth slanted with a smirk. Dahlia had no idea who Rikka really was. She didn't know much of Rikka's background, only the vague things that Rikka offered. Swallowing the depressing response of, I didn't have a real childhood, Rikka replied: "Obviously one that wasn't as fun as yours."

Dahlia frowned. "Well, it's never too late to experience these things. Get pancakes with me."

Rikka wrinkled her nose. "Seriously? Not eggs and bacon?"

"You gotta do the full sugar rush if we're going to catch up on your missed childhood experiences," said Dahlia.

Rikka chuckled. "Won't we get sick? I don't want to throw up on customers while I'm spinning on that pole."

"That might make the night more interesting," said Dahlia, grinning. Her smile faded. "Though, you're right. I don't want Vaughn to hurt you because I insisted that we get pancakes. And I don't want you to get sick—"

"Relax," Rikka said gently, reaching across the table to take Dahlia's hands. "I have a strong stomach. And I don't want you to worry about Vaughn, okay? He won't be a problem forever."

Dahlia lowered her gaze. "I don't know…"

"What's wrong?"

"Earlier today, some of the girls were talking about how they can barely take rent. No one's brave enough to confront him. Not after what he did to Erin…"

"Yeah," Rikka muttered. Her stomach knotted as images of Erin's black eye flickered in her mind. She frowned. "Wait, earlier? You worked earlier?"

"Yeah, why?"

"That's not healthy… Did you get any sleep in?"

"Yeah, a few hours. But I can't afford not to, you know? And the job market is just shit lately." Dahlia leaned her head back and laughed dryly. "You know, I have a master's degree in English? A master's degree! And I can't get a fucking job…"

Rikka sighed and bowed her head. "It's not your fault, Dahls."

"I know, I know… I just… I never imagined that I'd be here, ya know? I still have money in savings, so I'm okay right now, but… Topaz? Erin? Lucille? They've got kids, and they're barely making rent. You know what they told me they've started doing?"

The warmth in Rikka's cheeks bled out. Her stomach flipped. She had a feeling she already knew what those girls had started doing, but she still whispered, "What are they doing?"

"Offering handjobs and blowjobs for a hundred bucks a pop." Dahlia popped the p and leaned back against the booth.

Rikka sighed. The dancers shouldn't have to do that just to keep afloat. Normally, they got paid pretty well. Vaughn took over the club nearly a year ago—appointed by Vortex—and the power seemed to get to his head. He started harassing the girls, and then stole from them. The only reason Vortex cared or even noticed something was wrong was when Vaughn got greedy and started taking money from her cut each month. That's when she sent Rikka to investigate.

At first, Rikka had not cared. This was just part of the job of being Vortex's lieutenant: infiltrating, gathering evidence, the occasional shakedown or assassination, keeping underlings in line. But something about the way Vaughn abused the dancers—taking their money, slapping them around, blackmailing them—really set Rikka's teeth on edge. Every time he showed his face, Rikka physically restrained herself from beating the asshole's face to a pulp. No Quirk needed.

Rikka ate her pancakes in silence. She would deal with Vaughn tonight. She didn't care if she failed to assassinate Axiom. Making sure Vaughn could not hurt the girls anymore was her top priority. Vortex could shoot all the lightning she wanted, but Rikka didn't give a damn. The other dancers were her friends—Dahlia more so—and she'd be damned if she didn't do something to make sure they were alright.

At the club, Rikka sifted through the different lingerie pieces hanging on the rack for her first dance of the night. She withdrew two options and held them out to Dahlia, who sat at her vanity, touching up her makeup.

"Red or black?" Rikka queried, sifting through the different pieces.

Dahlia tossed her dreadlocks over her shoulder. "Oh, that's easy."

She pointed to the piece made of crimson and lace. Rikka lifted her eyebrows. "You've thought about this before."

"Once or twice." Dahlia looked Rikka over and winked.

Smirking, Rikka stripped of her street clothes and slipped into the red number. She adjusted her breasts, pushing them up to accentuate them.

"You need glitter." Dahlia grabbed the glitter container and faced Rikka. Dahlia applied glitter to Rikka's shoulders, the tops of her breasts, her thighs, her hip bones, and a little on her face. Rikka suppressed a shiver at Dahlia's touch. As she worked, Dahlia's expression darkened. "Hey, are you okay? You seem pretty distant and down tonight."

Rikka swallowed the lump in her throat. How the hell did Dahlia make her feel this way? Rikka was supposed to be Vortex's guard dog. Her lieutenant, cold, calculating, and ruthless. But with Dahlia, Rikka felt this softer side of herself—the side that she didn't let anyone see—come out. Dahlia felt like a warm patch of sunlight in the middle of winter. Rikka wanted to laze in her warmth for as long possible. "Yeah, just… family stuff."

Dahlia ran her hands down Rikka's arms and gripped her hands. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The warmth in Dahlia's eyes stuttered Rikka's heart. The urge to tell Dahlia everything—that she was Vortex's lieutenant here to assassinate Axiom and get Vaughn in line—lingered in her mouth like peanut butter. Thick and suffocating. But Rikka held it back. "Yeah. I know."

Washing her expression clean of any reservations, Rikka smiled and tapped Dahlia's nose before entering the main club. It was hard to make out faces in the purple light of the club, but Axiom wasn't there. He never arrived before two in the morning. Good.

She didn't mind dancing. Actually, she liked it. There was a certain power that it gave her. Even when creeps tried to touch her—which they weren't technically allowed to, but the majority of people who attended this particular club were criminals—Rikka could slap them away. She remained in control the entire time, and swayed her hips. The men thought they were in control, but men were always willing to believe that a beautiful stripper was weak and found him attractive.

Thanks to years of ballet and dance lessons, Rikka learned pole dancing quickly. She was capable of moving her body in ways that brought men to their knees. Soon, her panty line was stuffed with wads of cash. She slipped into the back room, straightening out the bills and stuffing them into the rim of her motorcycle helmet.

Returning to the main room, Rikka took to the stage.

While Rikka danced, Axiom walked into the club. He took his usual chair on the balcony, preferring not to be part of the drooling crowd of boys crawling to stuff dollar bills in Rikka's bra. Hm. He was earlier than usual. Sucked for him. Vortex wanted him dead, and she wanted Vaughn scared shitless. Killing people took less time than scaring them, so Axiom was target number one.

Rikka got off stage and feigned feeling sick. Topaz scowled and folded her arms across her tiny stomach. How this woman was the mother of two kids with a stomach as flat as that, Rikka had no idea.

"You can't leave early," Topaz snapped. "If you do, Vaughn will take it out on all of us."

"I'll take the heat," said Rikka. "But I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"No, we look out for each other!" Topaz snapped. "And I don't want to get smacked because of you! Just stay here. Maybe you'll feel better."

Rikka clutched her stomach for emphasis. "Let me just go stand outside. I really feel like I'm going to vomit."

Topaz narrowed her eyes. "Whatever."

Rikka scurried off, her backpack slung over her shoulder. She slipped outside and into the empty alley, where she dressed into her lieutenant outfit. After placing on the mask, she walked around the club and to the front entrance. She waited a few minutes before entering the club.

Finding Axiom in the club didn't take Rikka long. As soon as she entered, adorned in her lieutenant uniform, fully masked, the atmosphere of the club shifted. Vaughn shut off the music and cowered behind one of the curtains on stage. Dahlia, who had been mid-carousel on the center stage pole, twirled gracefully down and landed on her feet. She clutched the pole, her eyes wide with fear as Rikka paced the carpeted main floor. Everyone stared at her, holding their breath.

"Everyone who is not Axiom of the Archimedes Guild and Vaughn Walters, get out!" Rikka shouted. She prayed that her metallicized voice sounded different enough for Dahlia to not recognize. No one moved. Rikka tilted her head. Locking her gaze on Vaughn, shivering behind the curtain, Rikka activated her Quirk. As if pulling an invisible rope, Rikka dragged Vaughn by the throat with her mind. He gagged and choked, clawing at the purple glow around his neck. Rikka lifted him a few feet off the ground. "I said to leave!"

A bunch of nobody patrons hurried out of the club.

When Dahlia and the other dancers moved to leave, Rikka turned her gaze to them. "Stay in the back."

The girls looked terrified as they hurried into the back room. Rikka ignored the clench of her chest.

Axiom downed the rest of his drink and stood from his chair. His bodyguards flanked him on either side as he sauntered toward Rikka, who let Vaughn drop to the floor. He coughed and wheezed at her feet. Her head spun a little, but the damage wasn't too bad.

"I've heard of you," Axiom gloated as he neared Rikka. "They call you Violet Burn, right? Errand girl of Vortex herself."

Rikka placed a hand over her heart. "They talk about me? That's so sweet. I'm flattered."

Smirking, Axiom's slow saunter toward Rikka halted. He stood directly at eye-level, but his bodyguards behind him towered over both of them. "So, I'm guessing your arrival here means that Vortex wants to do business with me."

Rikka grinned under mask. She ran into this conversation a lot—men automatically assumed that Rikka (Violet Burn, as some apparently called her) was too weak to fight, and was there to negotiate. They thought they had a chance. Silly boys. "Oh, no. She wants you off her turf."

Rikka activated her Quirk before any of the men had a chance to respond. The purple glow formed around Axiom's neck, and in one swift motion, Rikka snapped his neck. He crumpled to the floor. Vaughn squealed like a pig and scrambled back as the two bodyguards stared at their dead boss in shock.

Rikka rolled her shoulders and stretched as a headache throbbed behind her eyes. "You boys can fight me and die if you want, or you can take your boss's body to the rest of the Guild and give them a message. It's your choice."

The two men exchanged a glance before scooping up Axiom's body and shuffling out of the club. Rikka turned to Vaughn, who curled into a ball by one of the fancy sofas that faced the stage. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

"You've been stealing from Vortex."

Vaughn trembled as he gazed up at Rikka. "N-no, I swear, I would never steal from her—"

"You've been skimming off the top. You think she wouldn't notice?"

"I've mainly been taking cuts from the girls!" Vaughn cried.

Rikka tilted her head and gritted her teeth. This absolute waste of oxygen. Topaz nearly got evicted because she couldn't afford to pay her rent because this asshole took from her paycheck. Rikka didn't care about her own paycheck; she had no use for it. She was here solely for this.

Violet energy sparkled around Rikka's fingers and Vaughn. She levitated him, and his toes barely skimmed the floor. Vaughn let out a whimper. "You think that changes things?"

"N-no, of course not," Vaughn stifled a sob. "Please don't kill me!"

"I'm not going to kill you," Rikka promised. "But Vortex wants you to learn this lesson, so I'm going to take this club from you after you tell me where you hid the money."

"I can't, I spent the money!"

"Really?" Rikka grinned. "Because everything about you just screams that you'd buy something tacky, and you're still wearing the same clothes as you did on Tuesday."

Vaughn's eyes widened. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough," Rikka seethed. The violet energy weaved around Vaughn's throat. "Where are you keeping the money?"

"I spent it!"

Rikka applied pressure, choking Vaughn. "Where is it?"

"I… spent… it!"

Rikka bared her teeth. This greedy little leech. Either he really had spent it on something big and tacky, or he was lying. Only one way to find out. Rikka released Vaughn, letting him crumple to the floor. Before he had a chance to recover, Rikka used her Quirk to force Vaugh on his knees. She placed her hands at his temples.

Breaking into someone's mind and reading their thoughts required a lot of energy. She wouldn't be able to use her Quirk for the rest of the night. Rikka squeezed her eyes shut and forced her mind to enter Vaughn's. Reading someone's thoughts wasn't as simple as reading notes off a page. It hurt—so much so that Rikka nearly released Vaughn too early—and left her mind's "eye" fuzzy. She could only catch glimpses of images. Rikka gritted her teeth, seeking the location of the money. Images flashed in her mind: wads of cash, stacks of it, bloody knuckles, cocaine, and the back of a toilet.

Unable to hold it any longer, Rikka released Vaughn. He collapsed on the floor, gasping. Wet, warm blood oozed out of Rikka's nose. Damn. She hated cleaning her mask. It wasn't made of fabric, so cleaning the hard grooves of it was a pain. Her head spun and the backs of her eyes throbbed with a migraine.

"You've been spending it on drugs," Rikka growled, kneeling beside Vaughn, "and you're hiding the cash you took from the girls in the back of your toilet here at the club."

Vaughn looked at her with his mouth agape. "You… You read my mind?"

"How perceptive of you," Rikka replied coolly. "Take me to the cash."

Vaughn got up on shaky legs. They entered his private bathroom in the back corner of the club. He took the top of the toilet off and handed Rikka five Ziploc bags of cash. Rikka weighed them in her hands.

"You're going to calculate everything you spent, and you're going to pay every bit of it back if you want to live."

Once Rikka felt she'd scared Vaughn enough, she searched his office for the deed to the building and the documents necessary for her to give ownership to Topaz. Rikka knocked out Vaughn with a swift punch and tied him up. She'd let Alaric take care of him later or something. The girls mattered more.

Rikka entered the backstage area to find the girls huddled together. Erin's makeup smeared with tear tracks. Dahlia rubbed Lucille's arms comfortingly. Topaz stood in front of the girls; her arms crossed. She was much shorter and bonier than Rikka, but her eyes flared with defiance regardless. Rikka respected that.

"What do you want?" Topaz's voice quivered. "We haven't done anything to Vortex. Most of us didn't even know she owned this club. We haven't been taking her money—"

"I know," said Rikka. She held the deed out to Topaz, who remained still. "The club is yours."

Topaz widened her eyes. "What?"

"You're in charge now," said Rikka. "You're the head dancer, and you keep the girls together and in line. You don't have to answer to that pig anymore."

Topaz looked down at the deed, finally accepting it from Rikka. "I don't understand…"

"How are we supposed to trust you?" barked Lucille. "What if this is some sort of trick?"

"It's not," Rikka muttered. "I wouldn't do that to you guys."

"Why not?" Erin whimpered. "You work for that villain, Vortex. Oh my God, no one is safe…"

Rikka gritted her teeth. She never took off her mask while working as Vortex's lieutenant. But she had worked with these girls for six months. She'd gone out drinking with them. Cried with them. Laughed with them. Took a beating for them. Rikka sighed and removed the mask.

She expected the collective gasp from the girls, but Dahlia running out of the room stung more than Rikka cared to admit. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Rikka squared her shoulders. "I've worked with all of you for the past several months. I respect all of you, and I promise you, this is not a hoax. I've worked it out with Vortex. She agrees to let you run the club. Since Topaz has been here the longest, I gave her the deed. There are a few ground rules that Vortex wants you to abide by—"

"We can't be involved in crime!" cried Lucille. "Some of us have kids."

"You won't ever be asked to," said Rikka, lifting her hands. "All Vortex wants is her monthly cut of the earnings, and for you guys to keep an ear out for secrets. Stuff you already do. Vortex won't take any of your pay. In fact, it'll be higher than it was. She promises to give you all a better life in exchange for those things. What do you say?"

Topaz glanced around before meeting Rikka's gaze. "I'm in."

"Me, too," said Erin.

The rest of the girls—even though some seemed reluctant—agreed, too. Rikka relaxed. She sat down with Topaz, Lucille, and Erin to go over some of the finer details of running the club and paying Vortex. Her cut was something the club was used to paying, so it wouldn't hurt their paychecks. Rikka planned to give them a new bouncer, one from Vortex's facility, to help protect them and make sure that Vaughn never returned. Once Rikka finished explaining things to them, she readied to leave.

"You're not coming back, are you?" Topaz queried. "Like, ever?"

Rikka's mouth twisted with a sad smile. She hadn't expected saying goodbye to be so hard. "I've got other assholes like Vaughn to bully. Someone'll be by to collect him, by the way. But he's tied up and not going anywhere… He doesn't have to be in good shape when Alaric comes to get him, I mean."

Topaz smirked. "I do have a lot of pent-up rage that I could take out on a pig."

Rikka turned the handle to the back door leading to the alley and stepped out into the night. Her heart felt as if it were drying and hardening into a lump of stone. Tears pricked the corners of Rikka's eyes as she reached her motorcycle. She put on her mask and mounted her bike.

"Hey, Ri—er, Violet Burn," called Topaz, hurrying toward Rikka.

Rikka turned her masked face toward Topaz. "I don't care what you call me."

Topaz opened and closed her mouth for a second. "Thank you. For this."

Rikka tilted her head. "There's no reason to thank me. The only reason I knew Vaughn was abusing any of you guys is because Vortex wanted me to find out how he was stealing."

"But you figured it out pretty early on, didn't you?" Topaz queried.

Rikka frowned. "Yeah, I did."

"But you stayed."

"Yes."

"I never imagined we'd be helped by a villain," Topaz laughed nervously. "But, uh, thank you."

Rikka dipped her head and revved her motorcycle. She paused, her heart clenching. "If you see Dahlia, tell her…"

"Tell her what?"

A sharp pain cut through Rikka's heart. "Never mind. Doesn't matter."

Topaz backed away as Rikka drove away. The whole drive back to the compound, Rikka held back tears. She parked her bike and ripped her mask off. Drawing in deep breaths of cool air, she waited several seconds before heading inside. Dahlia's brokenhearted expression played on a loop in Rikka's mind as she took the elevator down to the level with Vortex's office.

Vortex barely looked up from her desk as Rikka burst into the room and sat in one of the armchairs facing the fireplace. "Is it done?"

"Yes," Rikka sighed, leaning her head back.

"You seem tired."

"Had to read Vaughn's mind."

Vortex hummed. "You need more practice if it tires you out this much."

Rikka clenched her teeth. If she talked back, Vortex wouldn't hesitate to smack her across the face. With her raging migraine, Rikka didn't want to add to her own pain.

"You sound like you're feeling better," Rikka said instead, staring up at the ceiling.

Movement from Vortex's direction drew Rikka's attention. Vortex stood, her lips quirking with a barely-contained smile. "My contact finally told me where Sora is."

Rikka's fingers dug into the arms of her chair. She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached. Of course Vortex was in such a good mood—she only ever was when Sora came up. "The suspense is killing me, Mother."

Vortex smirked as she sipped her drink. "She's at UA."

Rikka raised her eyebrows. "That's not very inconspicuous."

"She ran out of options," shrugged Vortex. "And I've been watching the news for UA. Something interesting happened."

"What?"

"A group of villains attacked one of the school's facilities, and your sister's class was caught in the crossfire," said Vortex. "Poor little Sora was hospitalized, but she was the only student harmed."

"Isn't UA super secure?"

"Exactly," said Vortex. "But this League of Villains managed to get in."

Rikka leaned her head back. "Good for them."

"I have a new assignment for you," Vortex purred.

Rikka held back a groan. If Vortex sent her to Japan to bring Sora back…

"I want you to infiltrate this League of Villains," Vortex said. "They found a way into UA, and it'll be interesting to see how villains work in Japan with so many heroes around. Get Sora and bring her back here."

Rikka pushed off the armchair. "If Sora's attending UA, that means there are Pro Heroes watching her. The Pros in Japan aren't like the ones here."

"I know, which is why I want you to join the League of Villains."

"They broke into UA, attacked a bunch of kids, and then dipped out? They don't sound organized."

"They were organized enough to get into UA," Vortex said. "And they hurt Sora."

You've hurt Sora. Rikka swallowed the biting words. "Why the hell do you even want her back? She ran away, if you recall."

"She's a child," Vortex sneered. "Asiaq is the one who betrayed me. When I find her… I'll kill her."

Part of Rikka smiled, while the other felt a little sick. She hated Asiaq, but she hadn't been able to kill her sister years before. Could she do it now?

Well, Rikka had killed her own father…

Rikka curled her fingers toward her palms, letting the nails dig into her skin until it hurt. "Sora was always too weak to do anything. She's too soft. Why do you want her back so badly when you have—"

"Sora," Vortex cut in coldly, "is my heir. You are just my lieutenant."

Tears welled in Rikka's eyes, but she held them back. "How will I even find the League of Villains?"

"I'm sure you'll find a way. You always manage."

Rikka stood trembling, wanting to scream at Vortex that she was her daughter too, training and willing to take over Vortex's empire. But Vortex wanted precious little Sora, with her weather manipulation Quirk. The Quirk that matched Vortex's.

"You are dismissed," Vortex muttered. She wrinkled her nose. "And clean that blood off your face. You look barbaric."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Rikka swept out of the study.

Hello everyone, and welcome to Quatervois/Rikka! This story is the flipside of my other story, Quatervois/Sora (she's in Class 1-A, so if you want to read her perspective, go check that story out). You don't have to read both perspectives to get the full story. They'll collide (eventually), but you'll still understand what's going on. If you're just interested in the villains, then look no further than Rikka.

I know this chapter was super long, and there was only mention of the LOV, but many of the OCs introduced here will come back up later in the plot. I'm really excited about this story, and hope you guys enjoy it, too!

Next chapter, Rikka meets Shigaraki…