Thornblood, you bastard.
Mike couldn’t concentrate, he was so furious. He went down the hall to Knight’s apartment, but changed his mind. He kept going down the hall, to the elevator, and went downstairs. Cats gathered around the door. He was so angry he could have kicked them. Instead he stomped through them. They knew not to bother him, so they scattered.
Thornblood. The bastard who killed Jake.
It has been so long since he thought about Jake, his first, a man just about his age, but darker-skinned, with dark hair and the translucent gray eyes of a mage awaiting possession from a demon. Mike was not in love, but was certainly in lust, and Jake easily returned the affections. Mike made himself Jake’s assistant in order to be closer to him. Many a Tantric session found the two of them entwined with each other, covered in sweat and semen.
He stopped where he was. He had walked all the way to the Japanese Garden, and was on the wooden bridge. It was night, surprisingly not full of creatures that he would have to kill in order to get home. He leaned down to watch the water below the bridge.
He heard heavy footsteps on the bridge, and he turned to see a man come toward him. His long black hair was tied back. He wore black and gold spandex, with a long angled hole down the middle. “You okay?” the man asked.
“Yeah,” Mike said. He turned from the man. Obviously a hero, or he wouldn’t be out this late by himself.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, man,” said Mike, a little more testily than he meant to. He was trying to think of how to take out someone and this hero standing here wasn’t helping things.
The man raised his hands. “Just checking. A man doesn’t come out to this part of town this late unless he’s suicidal.”
“Or murderous.”
The man blinked. Obviously Mike didn’t look like a typical supervillain, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. But then, he didn’t look like a typical mage, either.
“Why don’t you just walk away.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” He put his hand against his chest, and when he pulled his hand away, a sword was in it. A huge sword, as big as the man’s torso. It looked like a cloud attached to a stick, seeming to glow gray, with fog dripping off of the hilt. “It won’t let me.”
“I’m not going to kill you. Or any innocent. Jesus Christ, I’m past that shit.”
“Who are you going to kill?”
“An old enemy of mine.”
“Do I know them?”
“He’s not a hero, that’s for damn sure.”
The sword wavered, and the fog covered both of their feet. “I can’t let you kill anyone.”
Mike stood up straight. “Stop being a hero and think like a human being.”
“I have. I did. And this is where it got me.” He held up the sword.
“Then why don’t I tell you what this man has done to me. You can kill him for me.”
“Tell me.”
“He killed my lover.
“We were discovered. The bastard mage, Thornblood, had us dragged out to his dungeon. I got locked in a iron cage with spikes inside, like an Iron Maiden. My lover…”
The man waited.
“My lover was drawn and disemboweled – then healed. His flesh was flayed from him. Then he was healed. A pair of demons battered him around like a cat with a mouse. He was healed.
“He begged to die. I couldn’t help him, not with the spikes sticking into me. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t form a spell. I watched. And as the tears dried on my face, I knew I couldn’t help him.”
Mike looked down. The man held out his hand. “I’m Dave McElroy. They call me Heavy Fuel. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Mike LeBonte. Grimaulkin. Thanks. You see where I’m coming from?”
“Yeah. This guy’s in town?”
Mike nodded. “He’s protected. I want his protector, too.”
McElroy frowned. “One thing at a time. Look. Let me escort you home. You have a superhero name and you probably have powers, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you out here.”
Mike chuckled. “Oh, I have powers all right. But if it’ll make you and your sword feel better, I’ll go home.”
McElroy walked beside him. “Tell me more about this man.”
Mike did, but not everything. Mike didn’t tell him that not even a year later, when Mike left the Circle, leaving a trail of dead mages in his wake, he left a few demons with tree trunks for cocks to take revenge on a coven. Thornblood had been the leader of that coven, and Mike made sure he was the first one taken by the largest demon there. Thornblood didn’t scream as Mike watched. He grinned as he sealed up the cave, leaving a bloody, battered Thornblood behind.
Not enough. Obviously not enough.