Page 5

The guard pulled a knife from his pocket and tried to stab her, but she spun to the side, long used to dodging knives.

She’d spent many years living with an expert at stabbing things– occasionally her—and the motion was second nature to her now.

This dude wasn’t nearly as skilled with a blade as Ronnie had been, and she’d survived countless spats with that asshole.

Her relationship with Mercygiver had been a ‘love/ hate’ kind thing. In that he loved to hit her, and she hated every fucking bone in his entire body.

This guy, though, was a walk in the park. Like a tropical vacation, only with switchblades instead of little paper umbrella drinks.

The movement caused her hand to slide across the table and she instinctively grabbed a cake server in the process. She twirled the wide bladed utensil around in her hand for a moment, then smiled at her new friend. “Let’s have some fun .”

The man lunged at her with the knife and it was all she could do to keep from laughing at his appallingly bad form.

She grabbed his wrist to redirect the attack, then plunged the blunt serving utensil downward into the base of his neck.

He made a gurgling sound as blood flowed from the devastating wound, and collapsed to the ground.

“Piece of cake.”

Mull made a face at Party Line’s stupid joke.

She stepped over the body, trying not to get blood on her shoes.

Fucking men.

They were all useless.

Mull frowned. And again with the men bashing!

?! What the hell was with Party Line, anyway?

Why was she so down on men? It was tiresome and weird.

Men were awesome. Well, most of them. Okay…

some of them, but the ones that were worthwhile more than made up for all the assholes out there.

But apparently Party Line just wanted to be a bitch.

A bitch who was having waaay too much fun being naked and fighting dudes.

Again, she was finding herself creepy as fuck today and she needed a good talking to. Frankly, she was beginning to long for midnight, when a new persona would appear and Party Line’s oddities and perversions could be forgotten.

At this rate, Party Line would frighten Natalie and then there’d be trouble. Nothing on this earth could complicate a situation like Natalie, and Mull went out of her way to keep the girl uninvolved .

Mull often dreamed of there being a day when she’d be… normal. Some new version of herself which wasn’t completely insane. Or as boring as insipid-ass Natalie, obviously.

Those days were a rare treat. She relished them the same way others might remember being a happy child on Christmas morning opening the gift they dreamed of, or the sensual embrace of a lover.

Those days… those days were nice. She felt like herself. She felt normal.

But she hadn’t had one in years now, and she suspected they were gone for good.

Most of the time, whoever she was on a given day… well, shit got dark.

She casually wiped the blood spatters from her body with the table cloth and her fingerprints from the weapons, and then tossed the fabric into the large fireplace to destroy the DNA.

She bent to collect her dress, and slipped it back on.

Although she fully intended to still have that conversation with herself about respecting her victims and herself, she did have to hand it to Party Line: stripping first was a good idea.

In retrospect, it allowed her to kill a room filled with men without getting one drop of blood on her gown.

Now, she could stroll out of this room without anyone being the wiser.

Sometimes, you just needed to trust yourself. Even if you’d only be yourself for another fifty-eight minutes, and when “yourself” kinda creeped you out.

Besides, a room filled with dead men was hardly something anyone should care about. They were dogs. All men were.

Shut up, Party Line! Go away, you freak!

She walked out of the room and started to make her way down the hallway and back towards the party.

The girl was just so …

An arm appeared through a partially opened door ahead of her, carrying a silenced pistol.

She grabbed the man’s wrist, pulled him forward to slam his face into the back of the door, then threw her weight against it, closing his arm in the jamb.

She repeated the process several more times, then wrenched the gun from his hand and absently shot him through the door four times .

A second later, Mull heard the distinctive “whoosh” that Captain Dauntless asshole made whenever he started flying, and she instantly collapsed to the floor, playing dead.

The Cape noticed the bodies in the doorway, including her, but was too preoccupied with the possible fate of the faaaaar more important people in the council room.

Generally speaking, the deaths of security guards and bystanders went unnoticed in these kinds of situations. Capes paid attention to the VIPs.

Saving rich people got you on the news. Saving poor people got your costume dirty.

The hero continued down the hallway before disappearing into the room to check on the wealthier victims.

Mull calmly got back to her feet, rolling her eyes.

No one ever checked the bodies. Sloppy.

Given the man’s enhanced senses, he probably could have heard her heartbeat on his way by… but not over the sound of the orchestra downstairs, which was continuing to loudly belt out MMMBop again and again like their lives depended on it… because in a very real sense, it absolutely did.

Mull killed people for money, but if someone disrespected Hanson, she’d go all pro bono on their shit. Pieces of them would rain down from the skies like some kind of Biblical plague.

She stopped next to the unconscious security guard she’d spoken with on the way here, and inspected her makeup in one of the hall mirrors.

Yep. She still looked goddamned perfect .

“Perfect?” Mull had never thought of herself as “perfect.” Hell, even Natalie could only manage to call herself “kind of pretty” and that girl was all about happy sunshine and seeing the best in people.

But apparently, in addition to being a tad sexist and a little into BDSM, Party Line was also conceited.

Was it really conceited to like what you saw in the mirror though?

What, just because she might not be particularly “exotic” or have “bedroom eyes” that meant that she should be ashamed?

The hell with that! That was JUST the kind of shit that the entrenched masculine patriarchy liked to tell millions of impressionable young women and …

Shut up, Party Line! Jesus Christ, girl! You look like fucking Becky Thatcher and you know it! Now stop being weird and focus on just getting out of here before the world’s most powerful Cape figures out there’s a victim missing.

Yeah, yeah. She made a face at herself, rolling her eyes.

Some people just didn’t want to see the big picture, that was all. She’d accomplished her mission, killed a dozen men and now it was just a matter of getting out of the building… and past security which was now blocking the exit and checking IDs…

Uh-huh. And I bet you’ve got some incredibly cunning and ingenious method for getting out of this, don’t you, Party Line? Something that no one could possibly see coming?

Of course she did.

Party Line always had a way to get out of these types of situations. Even when she was Multifarious. Or Natalie.

It was a method which never failed .

You just had to plan it carefully…

She beamed at the first man she saw, flashing him Nat’s all-too innocent smile. The guy was broad-shouldered and tall, with a shaved head and an absolutely gorgeous face. His suit was impeccable and so pristinely white that it looked like bridal fabric.

He was… striking.

Important looking.

There was no question that this was a man .

The kind of guy Nat would hide from in nervousness and the kind that Party Line was already having nasty thoughts about.

But even Party Line hesitated for a second, recognizing that someone who looked like that would obviously have a date for this event.

And high standards of beauty which Natalie couldn’t hit on her best day. With a ladder. And a jetpack.

Fucking Natalie was going to ruin this for Party Line. How typical.

“Hi!” She greeted him excitedly. “Can you take me back to your place?” She rubbed up against him and “accidentally” gave him a view down her dress. “I really wanna get out of here.”

The man swallowed, looking uncomfortable.

To Party Line’s surprise however, he ignored the view of her cleavage she was offering.

Instead he took a small step back away from her, giving her more space.

“Umm… Uhh...” He looked around the room like he was nervous or checking for something.

“Okay, miss.” He quickly nodded. “Yes, I can escort you home if you need a ride.”

“That would be wonderful , lover.” She put her arm in his. “This party’s dead anyway.”

Oh, Jesus.

Party Line liked puns.

There was no possible way she could become any more annoying.

It was going to be a loooong night.

The man in question ushered her through security, who completely ignored him for some reason. Like he was above all suspicion.

He cleared his throat. “My name is Oswald, miss.”