After meeting with his techs, Draco was in a particularly good mood. The evening was a total success; the kid worked, as did the plan to eliminate one who was going to expose them. He had several bottles of champagne opened for his crew; they may not have appreciated the fine beverage, but they had all worked very hard for this. The report to The Don was going to be good for everyone involved.

Edward had returned to the floor before the Battle Royale, to put the people back into a gambling frenzy, which they had. The resulting influx of cash would keep The Family well-funded for another two weeks. After the people had gone home, the party was joined by three others.

Edward and his sister had come in, looking exhausted. That was the first time either of them had really tested their abilities on a large group for many hours. Edward was rubbing his temples from his headache. Both took their champagne and sat down on a couch.

A knock on the door brought in the giant, Iron Spike, flanked by two enforcers. Draco cheerfully greeted him.

“Good job there, Spikey. For taking care of my little problem, I’m takin’ care of yours.” He dialed his cell and quietly spoke to someone. He closed his phone and patted the big man on the arm. “Come tomorrow, your life is all yours again.”

Iron Spike nodded in thanks and left the room. Though tired, Bianca and Edward exchanged glances.

What was that about?

No idea. I’m too tired to read feelings right now.

What happened back there? You looked like your brain was going to erupt out of your skull.

Someone released a sharp burst of raw emotion. It almost wrecked me for the night.

Must have been some feeling.

A close friend died.
Edward paused for a moment. I’m still feeling the echoes of it.

They watched Draco as he praised Kirk for his accurate predictions.

What do you think about him?

Who, Draco or Kirk?

Bianca projected annoyance to her brother.Kirk, you twit!

He’s fine. A bit of a puzzle, though.

What do you mean?

It feels as if there are more than one of him whenever I touch his mind.

Possessed? Crazed?

No, none of those. I can’t explain it. It’s as if he’s multiplied in his mind, all feeling the same thing, but it’s different somehow, like he’s an emotional echo. What do you think about him?

He’s alright. Draco obviously has a new pet.

I thought you would be glad his attention is off of you.

I just need to make sure his attention toward me is the good kind. He said that I might be able to go see Delilah, now that this little test has worked.

Really? That would be great, now wouldn’t it?

Kirk excused himself and went back to his suite. He was feeling horrible that he had seen another death and was unable to do anything about it. He looked at the pile of mail on his desk; he had forgotten that Edward had it forwarded. One letter caught his attention. He opened it and read it.

Dear Mr. Haussman,

I need you to contact my office regarding the estate of Kenji Yomato. It is a matter of utmost urgency. My number is (401)555-3287.

Thank you,

Mark Barlow, Attorney at Law.

Puzzled, he left the note on the table and opened the fridge. He grabbed a soda and began to drink. He plopped down on the couch and turned on the television. He wanted desperately to take his mind off of the evening’s events.

As he fell asleep, the visions came.

Jon spent the entire night pacing the roof of his home. The flat roof made for a quiet retreat when he needed to think, and due to recent events, he needed to do a lot of it.

He went over what had happened; Bluedragon was dead, they were sent on a wild goose chase after the Tsoo, and someone with the ability to see the future was missing, taken by the Family. Add to that Xandria’s mention of two psychics on the loose at the Colosseum, and the mix seemed to be getting worse. He wondered if they were connected, and his gut told him they were.

But, he asked himself, why? The only conclusion he could come up with was that Bluedragon must have known something important, something that he was silenced for. But how the Tsoo and the disappearance fit in, he did not know. Maybe it had something to do with the Colosseum…

He sighed deeply. This wasn’t even an official case, and he was treating it like it was. Believing that the answers would be found with Bluedragon’s past, he launched himself into the night sky and flew in the direction of City Hall.

Flora walked out of Sara’s room, a look of concern on her face. Xandria had rendered Sara unconscious to get her under control. The green skinned woman didn’t really know what would be worse; the redhead in a comatose state, or alert and out for vengeance. She saw Evan walking towards her in the hallway and smiled weakly at him.
“How is she?”

“Still out.”


“Is Jon still here?”

“No. The roof camera showed he’s not here.”

She frowned slightly. He was always prone to running off, but she wished he would let her know. She sighed deeply.

“Is Sara going to be ok?” His voice cracking, and for once, Evan actually seemed his age. It was easy to forget that he was only sixteen.

“I think so. You know how close she and Bluedragon were.”

“Yeah.” he paused. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“Me too.” she agreed. “But in this city, it’s a risk he was willing to take. One that we all have to take.” She placed her hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

He nodded in agreement. Without his sister hovering over him, he was ignoring all her rules; in bed by 11, do your homework, and no crimefighting on a school night, unless it’s important.

“Now, shouldn’t you be in bed?” she asked.

Reluctantly, he went down the hall toward his room and did as he was told.

Flora went downstairs to try and contact Jon.

Kirk found himself waking up in the middle of the night again. The clock read 4:16. He sighed deeply and stared at the ceiling.

Shortly after he had gone home, Draco and two of his underlings came to see him. One of the things he had brought was his cut of the profits. Kirk stared in wide-eyed amazement at the amount. It was more than he made in two months. Smiling with pride, Draco dubbed him “The Vision.”

Still wondering if he was worth all the fuss, he went to the kitchen and got himself something stronger to drink. He felt bad that he should profit when someone else, a true hero, was dead. As he drank the straight tequila down, his thoughts went back to the letter he had gotten from the lawyer.

As he looked it over, he wondered what it could possibly be. He concentrated for a moment, trying to see the future. Unfortunately, it was too difficult to see. Either things were still in flux that hadn’t determined it, or he was not meant to know. He still didn’t know how to control his powers.

He looked outside, and saw two people creeping around on the ledge. One was a man, the other a woman.

Puzzled, he watched them. He never got to see heroes this close to his apartment before. Whoever they were, they seemed to be intent on not being discovered. He tried to make out who it was, but in the dim light, that was a difficult feat at best. He sat still and watched them, not wanting them to realize that, despite their efforts, they were being watched. One thing he could determine was that this wasn’t two heroes discussing strategy; this was a clandestine lovers’ meeting. The two were holding each other in a long embrace. Torn between wanting to watch and giving them privacy, he decided instead to have some fun. Turning on the light, he let them know that they were not as alone as they had thought.

It was hard to say who had the more surprised look; the woman for being seen by someone she knew, Kirk for seeing who the couple was, or the man for someone knowing his secret. Kirk just saw a flash of a red and blue costume, and a pair of violet eyes blazing at him.

He found himself suddenly going to the sliding glass door and opening it. Bianca came through it, an angry look on her face. She was dressed in some skimpy outfit, making her look, in Kirk’s opinion, even more sexy, if that was possible.

“What did you see?” she demanded, arms crossed. She seemed furious that Kirk had seen her.

“Nothing…” he said weakly. He went to get the bottle of tequila. After what he had just seen, he needed another drink. “So…was that…Statesman?” he asked as he poured two shots. He handed her one.

“Yes, it was. He’s the reason I came to the States. Edward thinks he and I are through, but we still see each other.” she gulped down the drink and grimaced. “Ugh. Why can’t anyone around here drink Scotch?” she griped.

“Are you a superhero?”

“Yes and no. I’m technically on maternity leave. The Family got word that I was psychic, kidnapped my daughter, and forced me to work for them.”

“Who’s the father?”

“Who do you think?” she replied, sarcasm dripping in her tone.

That revelation seemed to stun him for a few seconds. “Why not get him to help you?”

“It would ruin his public reputation.”

“But it’s his child!”

“Yes, and if The Don found out about that, they would use that information against him. Not to mention he would risk everything for her safety. He’s better off not knowing!” she stated. “Look, you are not going to say a word of this to anyone.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing.”

Her eyes seemed to glow for a moment. “I know you won’t.”

The psychic blast she hit him with knocked him flat to the floor.

When he came to the next morning, he found himself on the living room floor, soaked in tequila, and unable to remember what had happened.

“Tonight’s the big night, Eddie!” chimed Draco.

Edward casually regarded his employer, saying nothing.

“Make sure Kirk is at the Colosseum by six. They start posting match-ups at seven. I’ll need his predictions to me by seven-thirty.”

The excitement radiating out of Draco was almost a living, breathing entity, almost oppressive, but, mused Edward, he was in a good mood. “What shall I have him do until then?”

“Keep an eye on him. If he wants to go anywhere, you and Bianca stay with him. I think you know how to protect him if you need to.” Draco splashed some cheap cologne on, grabbed his leather jacket and left.

Grabbing his jacket, Edward followed his employer and headed over to Kirk’s place.

Jon returned from City Hall in the middle of the night in a bad mood. He had found out very little information on Bluedragon. Part of the problem was the secretary, who seemed to run interference and prevented him from finding anything useful.

“I don’t know who she is. I’ve never seen her before.” he grumbled.

“Was her name Renee?” asked Flora.


“She’s new. They keep floating her between the departments. I guess they feel it helps cut down on staff budgeting.” Flora sighed. “She’s…difficult. I’ve had more than my share of run ins with her.” The phone rang and she got up to answer it. When she hung up, she looked puzzled.

“Who was that, dear?”

“Detective Wright. He said that the hero who accidentally killed Bluedragon was found dead in the sewers about a half-hour ago.”

“What?” Jon was stunned. He had wanted to start the day with questioning him.

“His teleporter had been damaged, and he looked like he’d been stabbed repeatedly.”

“Maybe he ran into a bunch of Reapers. You know the sewers are teaming with Vazhilok.”

Flora half-frowned. “Detective Wright said they are not suspects. The wounds look more like claw marks. Besides, would the Vazhilok leave a hero’s body?”

“Are they suspecting Sara?”

“He didn’t say, but he asked if she was home all night. A lot of people saw her leaving the Colosseum quite hysterical.”

“She was here all night, right?”

“Yes, I checked on her last night.”

“What about this morning?”

With a panicked look, the two of them ran upstairs, throwing open the door to Sara’s room. A light wind blew through the open window, making the curtains billow over an empty bed.

“We’ve got to find her before the cops do, or any heroes, for that matter.” Jon said.

Within minutes, the team had mobilized and was out the door.
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