I'm probably a hair's breadth away from being finished with Mouse's Tale: An Alpha League Supers Novel, so I figured I'd post another excerpt. The usual caveats apply (eg, hasn't been edited, etc.). Needless to say, I'm further behind in my writing than I anticipated being at this point. That said, enjoy!
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Satisfied with
what I’d accomplished (especially in comparison to the effort I’d put forth), I
left the backroom and went strolling down the hallway. Just as I stepped back
into the main barroom, I ran into Vixen (who apparently had been about to head
into the area I’d just left).
“There you
are,” she said, flashing a lovely smile. “I thought I asked you not to go
anywhere.”
“Yeah, I’m not
good at taking instruction,” I responded, pushing down a jubilant vibe I’d felt
upon seeing her. “I’m weird like that.”
I tried to step
around her, but she glided right into my path.
“You know
what’s really weird?” she asked.
“Guys who don’t do what I ask them to. That’s not something that happens every
day.”
“There’s a first
time for everything, I suppose.”
“Maybe…” Vixen seemed to reluctantly agree,
giving me an odd look.
“Well, if
you’ll excuse me,” I said, preparing to walk away.
“How about we
spend a little time getting to know each other?” she asked.
“Sounds nice,”
I admitted, “but I’ve got someplace to be.”
Once again, I
tried to step around her. This time, she laid a firm hand on my chest, stopping
me in my tracks.
“I wasn’t
really asking,” she clarified.
Her palm felt
as dense and unyielding as forged steel. If I hadn’t figured it out from the
blow she’d dealt Sandstone, I certainly knew it now: she was a hell of a lot
stronger than she looked.
Vixen tilted
her head in the direction of an empty, squared-shaped table nearby. “Why don’t
we have a seat?”
I spent a
moment debating my next course of action. With her strength, a direct physical
confrontation was completely out of the question. Thankfully, I had other
options at my disposal, but to be frank, she had aroused my curiosity. Hoping to get a sense of what her game was, I
decided to play along – at least for a little while.
I went to the
table indicated and sat down, with Vixen taking a chair opposite me. Neither of
us said anything, so I spent a few moments glancing around the bar.
From my current
vantage point, I could see a little more of the place. I spied an aging jukebox
against a wall, and also a small dance floor that was maybe ten by ten feet in
size. Not far from the hallway that led
to the backroom was a set of stairs that apparently went up to the second
floor.
I turned my
attention to Vixen. There was a slight frown on her face, and – when she wasn’t
glancing in my direction – her eyes seemed to be glued to the door.
“So who are we
expecting?” I finally asked.
She turned to
me, eyebrows raised. “Huh?”
“You’ve been
watching the door like a hawk since we sat down. I assume that when you left
before it was to make a phone call and that someone’s going to be joining us
soon.”
She smiled
sweetly. “Just some friends from work.”
I frowned, not
sure what her statement implied. I didn’t know what she was up to, but I didn’t
like the idea being pinned in by Vixen and some unknown cohorts of hers.
“Relax,” she
said, seeming to sense my mood. “These are the good guys. You already chatted
with some of them earlier today.”
She winked as
she spoke that last sentence, and it all became clear to me then.
“The Alpha
League,” I stated matter-of-factly, my voice clearly expressing that I had no
desire for another parley with them.
“You want to
speak up a little?” she asked sarcastically. “I’m not sure they heard you in
the back.”
I hadn’t spoken
in a particularly loud voice, but I understood her point. We were on the bad
guys’ turf; it would behoove us to exercise discretion when speaking of the
world’s greatest superhero team.
“You must be
new,” I said, essentially giving away the fact that I kept up with who was on
the Alpha League roster. I was less concerned with that, however, than slipping
away before any more of them arrived. Now that I knew who Vixen was working
with, I didn’t care to stick around.
“It’s a trial
period,” she admitted. “I’m seeing how I like them, and they’re seeing how they
like me.”
“I can
understand that. There can be issues with having someone like you on the team.”
She gave me an
appraising glance. “So, you know what I am.”
I nodded.
“Siren. Manipulator of men’s emotions. And actions.”
She laughed
heartily at that. “I prefer to think that I unshackle their spirits – give them
free reign to do what they feel in their soul.”
“As long as it
aligns with your interests.”
She winked.
“Well, a girl’s gotta live.”
“I don’t doubt
it. Let’s just hope your type of lifestyle doesn’t cause friction with your new
teammates.”
She sobered
somewhat at my comment. I hadn’t been kidding earlier when I had mentioned
Sirens causing issues on superhero teams. Their presence typically led to
several male team members – usually two, but occasionally more – battling it
out for the Siren’s affections at some point. More than one team had completely
disintegrated as a result of a Siren being added to the roster. In short, the
Alpha League was wise to have a trial period with Vixen, but even that came
with a certain degree of risk.
“So what’s
keeping them?” I asked. When Vixen gave
me a puzzled look, I added, “Your new teammates. I would have thought that with
super speed, at least Buzz or Alpha Prime would be here by now.”
“As hard as it
is to believe,” she replied, “you’re actually not every team member’s top
priority. We still put a premium on
saving lives, so some of our speedier members are off dealing with other
crises.”
I was about to
make a smart-aleck response when I noticed someone heading towards our table.
It was some bruiser in a black muscle shirt with a crew cut, and a face only a
mother could love. He topped six-and-a-half feet in height easily, and – aside
from a couple of gold-loop earrings – looked like a walking advertisement for
steroids.
“Would you like
to dance?” he said in a gravelly voice after reaching our table.
“She’d love
to,” I blurted out with a grin.
Vixen shot me
an angry look, then turned to our visitor and put on a sweet smile. “Actually,
I’m a little tired right now. Maybe later.”
“I wasn’t
talking to you,” the guy stressed to Vixen, then swiveled his head in my
direction.
I think both
Vixen and I did a double-take at that point. Slightly shocked, I gave our
visitor another once-over and realized almost with a start that it was actually
a woman. The muscle shirt was actually a halter top, and she wasn’t doing
herself any favors with the crew cut, but when you looked closely her feminine
attributes were there.
“Would you like
to dance?” the woman asked again.
I blinked, and
had trouble finding my tongue for a moment.
Vixen put a
hand up to her mouth to stifle the sound of laughter, and then - mimicking my earlier comment - said, “He’d love
to.”
I gave her a
look that encompassed shock, surprise, anger, contempt and a dozen other strong
emotions. I looked back at the big woman standing there, searching for words to
let her down easy, when it suddenly occurred to me that I could turn this situation
to my advantage.
“As a matter of
fact, I absolutely would,” I declared.
“Really?” asked
the big woman, clearly surprised.
“In fact,” I
added, getting to my feet, “why don’t we get out of here and go have some real fun.”
The big woman
drew in an excited breath and clasped her hands together in delight. Vixen,
suddenly realizing the door she had opened with her attempt at humor, stood up,
frowning.
“Actually, he’s
not interested,” Vixen stated.
The big woman
didn’t seem fazed by this. “I think the little man can speak for himself, and
he’s made it clear that he’s up for some fun. And one thing Bellua” – she
pointed a thumb at herself – “knows how to do is have fun.”
“That’s fine,
uh, Bellua,” Vixen said. “But you’re going to have to find someone else to play
with.”
Bellua let out
a frustrated sigh. “Look, Red, I’ve had a long day, and I really need to unwind
with a man, if you know what I mean. Now, your boyfriend’s a little on the
small side, but I prefer a guy who’s willing than one who’s likely to press
charges later.”
I fought to
keep my face impassive, although Bellua’s words brought several unsavory images
to mind. (Of course, she had to be kidding…)
“I sorry,”
Vixen said, shaking her head in sympathy, “but he’s not going any–”
There was an
audible smack, like someone slapping a raw side of beef, and Vixen’s words were
cut off as a backhand from Bellua sent her airborne. She slammed into an
exterior wall, smashing the drywall before dropping to the floor. Somewhere in
the background, I heard the bartender angrily screaming expletives about not tearing up her place.
Bellua turned
back towards me, a frightening grimace on her face that it took me a moment to
recognize as a smile. “Now, where were we?”
