The super-villain known as Cybermancer tapped his cheek impatiently. His minions should be coming in soon with their quarry.
Bloodthorn, in his threadbare crimson robes, looked out of place in the boardroom. He sat rocking back and forth, muttering to himself. Anyone else would think he was crazy, but he in fact had a very powerful demon-mage inside him. He was one of the last vestiges of the Circle of Thorns, a group that left Paragon City when it was collapsing. The death of Paragon had come as a surprise to all the Thorns, and very few got out. Those few that did carried a demon on their backs. Most hadn’t lived this long. The demon-mage was smart and didn’t take Bloodthorn over entirely, killing its host like other demons had done.
Cybermancer discovered them in the asylums, among DEMON, and out in the desert. Bloodthorn still had vestiges of human knowledge left, though it was twisted to a pure hatred of his race. Cybermancer took Bloodthorn out of the asylum and was able to to communicate enough with him and his demon-mage to get them both to agree to work with him. It was slow going, but Cybermancer was a patient man.
The back door to his boardroom opened, and two large bears of men stepped inside. Behind them were two other men manhandling a woman with a hood over her head. Cybermancer immediately tugged on a silver-studded earring in his left ear. If anyone who could see magic looked at him, it seemed that his head shimmered.
“Where am I, and let me go!” The woman wore white, thigh-high boots, and a skirt that looked more like a sash at her waist. She had what seemed like only a bra, also white, and wisps of red hair poked out from under the hood. Cybermancer waved a hand and one of the thugs pulled off the hood.
Her green eyes focused on what was in front of her: a tall, well-built man with black hair and dark, almost black eyes. He looked in his early thirties, was clean-shaven, in a tailored suit, and had his back to a large plate glass window that overlooked the city of St. Louis.
“Angry Opal,” he said, with a slight bow. “I am very honored to meet you.”
“Who the hell are you?” she said, pulling herself away from the men and standing straight, trying to look down her nose at the taller man.
“My name is Cybermancer.” Opal glanced at the red-robed man to the side, who had risen from where he sat, his hood covering his face but not hiding his glowing green eyes. “Oh, that is Bloodthorn, an associate.”
Bloodthorn bowed deeply, the sleeves of his robe almost scraping the floor. Opal inclined her head, then turned her attention to Cybermancer. “That doesn’t tell me anything,” she said.
“No, I suppose it would not. This company, of course, is a front for my true operations.”
“Which are?”
Cybermancer turned his back to Opal. “Are you familiar with a Scott Angrier?”
He thought he could hear her teeth grind. “My. Cousin,” she spat out.
He smiled, his back still to her. He looked out the window. “And I’m sure you are familiar with his husband?”
“Grimaulkin. Yes, I’m familiar. What’s this getting to?”
Cybermancer stifled the smile and turned back to her. “We,” he motioned to Bloodthorn and himself, “have a certain familiarity with Gruimaulkin. He destroyed my brother, his home, his wife and child, and he’s destroyed many brethren of Bloodthorn.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I am willing to assist you with your cousin, if you will assist me with Grimaulkin.”
She bit her lip, thinking. “I want more than that.”
Cybermancer slowly grinned, “What more would you like?”
“Get rid of these goons and we’ll talk about it?”
Cybermancer’s grin got wider. He looked up at the men, and tilted his head to the back door. They all nodded and filed out. She fiddled with the strap of her bra, turning it down so it fell slightly off her shoulder. “Him too,” she said, thumbing at Bloodthorn.
“Oh, but Miss Opal, he’s here to keep me honest.”
The strip slipped lower, exposing more of her breast. Cybermancer couldn’t help but be drawn to the whiter skin that showed.
“I suspect you don’t want me to be honest.”
Opal gave him a pouty, sexy look. Cybermancer didn’t have to look at Bloodthorn; the man shuffled out of the room, quietly closing the back door behind him. Cybermancer walked over to the back door and locked it, and then the door that led to the front of the office and locked that.
When he turned around, she jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him. He broke the kiss and grabbed her by the hair, pulling back savagely. “Welcome to Murder, Incorporated.”