Gatsby.

There's something incredibly cruel about asking a boy to choose between his girlfriend's safety and cookies. Because no matter how much he loves his girlfriend, 98% of him only cares about the food.

And I'm sure it's the same for the ladies, too. Heaven would die for me—she already has. But as for passing up cookies for my sake? 

I wipe my mouth with the inside of my wrist to knock away any possible culmination of drool. The hunger pangs wash through me with an intensity I've never felt before, not even when Angel cooked for my birthday and locked me out of the kitchen. I sink lower on my knees, my head bowed as Owl shakes the cookie box.

"Heaven?" I try to be snarky. It's weak. "What do you want to know about her? The last time I checked you wanted to slash her neck open."

Owl laughs, a small, polite little laugh, as she tips her head to the side. Her black hair cascades down her back like an inky waterfall, and I can't help staring. It's clear where Angelos gets his good looks from, though I think he'd be appalled if I mentioned it. Owl smiles good-naturedly.

"No. I wanted to kill you, cat boy. Though I was a little rough on the girl, I'll admit. I suppose James makes me act a little..." She flourishes with her hand, lips pursed as she searches for the right word "...aggressively, if you know what I mean."

"James?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Fallout."

"Oh." The bars chill the back of my neck and I can't help shivering. The villain nods, resigning to reading the packaging on the back of the cookie box over and over, grinning to herself as if thinking a funny joke. A few moments of silence pass between us before she resumes her monologue.

"I might have unmasked her, broken her arm, crushed a bit of her." The woman blows out a breath from her nose. "She is no match for me."

Part of me wants to shout "She could kick your lousy butt!" and defend Heaven's honor, but Heaven can defend her honor well enough without me, and said outburst would make this meeting go a lot rougher between Owl and me, so instead, I twist the collar of my shirt around my finger and ask, "Then why do you care? And how do you even know her name?" My eye twitches when I speak. Each breath brings a tide of blood and sweat, perfume and cookies. It's a fight to keep from gagging.

Owl snaps her head up, and for a tick of a moment, she almost looks childish, grinning, her hands squeezed together, her eyes lit up like glow-flies. I suppose every supervillain needs someone to vent their brilliant plans to, and that, I suppose, is where those long-furred cats come in. Even Heaven used to do that, pick up one of the Larries and burst in an angst-filled monologue about the follies of youth. I feel a prick in my chest. I'm not gonna sell her out. I'm not a traitor. I repeat it over and over in my head, just to make sure I get the picture and get it good. I am not a traitor. I am not a traitor. No matter what anyone says, no matter how badly I want those cookies, I am not a traitor.

"You must remember that I've been away from Starlight a very long time. After the first wave of superheroes were disposed of and I become Syndicate's new leader, I decided to leave. I suppose I was annoyed to come back and see what James did with all this territory."

"And what's that?" 

 She snorts, her hands seizing up in a gargantuan gesture that doesn't match the rest of the dignified villain I've seen. Briefly, I wonder if she's drunk.

"Nothing! He did nothing with it. All the time spent crushing those heroes and he lets the new generation run rampant, like rats. You spend years clearing them out of your house, and when more come, you let them settle. It's ridiculous."

"Yes?" I try not to stare at the cookie box. My hand slides onto the barx. I drum my claws against the steel, listening to the cling, cling, cling. Her gaze narrows as she stares at my hands. "I see." I try to sound agreeable and keep the conversation as far away from Heaven as possible. I even force a smile. It hurts my cheek.

She stares a little longer. "Her superhero name is Galaxy, yes?"

"Yes." Owl already knows this, so I nod and hope I sound like I'm giving her new information. Maybe she'll decide she has all she needs and give me the cookies for being such a model prisoner. This is what happens when you're half-starved; you think with your stomach.

"It's a funny name for a superhero until you think of Nebula. Nebulas and Galaxies. Tell me, Felix, what is Heaven's main superpower?"

Superspeed. Its superspeed, damn it! Now, shut up and give me food. "Um." I gulp. My stomach growls so loudly Owl could only miss if it if she were deaf. "Sup-p-erpower?" My voice hitches into a croak like a prepubescent boy's. "Look, miss, I-I don't know. She kept her identity a secret from me for so long I just don't know—"

"It's superspeed, isn't it?"

All the heat drains out of my body. My breath comes a little heavier. "Why are you asking me things you already know?"

Owl blinks again, and any hint of her childish glee from earlier is sapped. She leans forward, so close her breath is a whisper against my skin. "I want to make sure you tell me the truth, Felix." Her smirk grows across her face, like a caterpillar snaking along it. "You do want to eat, don't you?" With the ease of a southern gentleman, she lifts the box and rattles it. I wipe away my drool with a shaky hand.

"My name isn't Felix." My voice quakes.

"Sure, it is." Owl narrows her eyes, her tone dropped so deep it almost trembles with an unspoken threat. "Because I said so. Isn't that right, Felix?"

I freeze.

"Felix?"

I nod instinctively. Nod, nod, nod like a bobble head until she smiles and leans back just enough so I can breathe.

"Good. Good boy."

I want to tell her to stop calling me that, but some part of me, some little piece of me evolved for  survival knows that's a bad, bad idea. I just don't want her to hurt me, and if that means I have to put up with her humiliating pet names, so be it.

"I've always liked cats," Owl says, lacing her fingers and stretching her hands in front of her. A little purr resonates deep in my throat. Her smile grows, as if I'm purring in response to her approval. I'm not. I'm just glad she shut up about Heaven. "You know why?"

Look, I don't care. You stuffed me in a cage and I just want to eat your freaking diet cookies before I starve, lady. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but my will to live overrides my need to shovel out the snark. So, I try to paste on a fake look of 'Wow! I actually care!' with a prim, achy smile. She laughs, and I decide I'm pretty bad at it, even if I am a pretty good actor under most circumstances. "Why?"

"Dogs only know loyalty to their masters, but cats? Cats are clever and manipulative creatures." She gazes over me with the tiniest hint of a nod. "That was a very risky stunt, faking your death. Very clever."

I shift on my side. She nods politely, motioning for me to speak. This is all leading up to something, but my head is too foggy to make out just what. "I had to. Cat would've killed me if I didn't, whether she meant to or not. She's just that strong."

Owl shrugs. "I see. Well, it worked. At the moment, us villains have been very antsy about killing supers." I snort. She ignores it with her oblivious smile. "I suppose after all the blood shed those years ago, we didn't want to spill anymore. At least, the others didn't."

"Why don't you kill me?" It's such a stupid thing to ask, especially when she very clearly can kill me, but it's weighed on my mind heavily. Owl flicks her hand over, her smile zapped. I shouldn't have asked.

"I wanted to kill you in the neutrals' lair, if only to hurt the little hero. Heaven? Heaven Brooks? But that isn't what I came here to talk about."

I try not to let the fear show. It's playing out inside me, tightening up my muscles, quickening my pulse so it beats like a sledgehammer. My spine is cold with a thin layer of new sweat, stress sweat. "Oh."

"Cats." Her voice booms, so deep and dripping with an official's confidence she sounds like she's running for office. "Cats come and go as they please. They put themselves first before their master." Something about the way she says it makes me shiver and reach for a bar to grasp hold of. I grip the cage door, shake my head once, twice, to clear away the grogginess.

"But I can't come and go as I please." It surprises me how soft my voice is, hardly above a whisper. How weak has Owl made me? I shake my head and study the creases in my hands. I don't want to think about it. I'm just a mess, it seems.

She stands up and paces the cage's perimeter. I close my eyes and give up trying to watch her, though I can make out a general sense of her whereabouts because she takes care to rattle the box.

"I'm not asking you to do that, Felix." Pressure squeezes around my temples like metal bands. My name is Gatsby. Gatsby. I gave it to myself and it's mine. "All I'm asking is that you put yourself first. You're different from the others. Smarter."

A blush rises to my cheek. She never deviated from Heaven in the first place. "No."

"Yes. Tell me about her parents. They're dead, obviously. What caused it?"

"No." I want her to go away. I just keep smelling those cookies more and more. I'm so hungry. Why does she have to talk to me when I'm hungry? She's using it against you. You had to heal that nasty wound, that took a lot out of you. Don't let her get into your head. You love Heaven, don't let Owl hurt her again.

"If you don't know that, then when? When did their demise take place? This is important, child." And her tone, so deep and low, conveys it.

My throat feels like it's been stuffed up with quick-dry cement. "No. You can't make me say anything about her, I'm loyal."

I feel her fingers around my neck before I open my eyelids. She mashes my face against the bars and I yelp before I can help it. A wave of pain crashes through the healed-over bullet wound, my brain all muddied up and the cage spinning like a pitched bowling bowl. She lets go, and I watch helplessly as Owl flicks the box open and tears a cookie free out of shiny aluminum wrapping. All I smell are the raisins and butter, so delicious, my senses overpowered with the scent of the stupid cookie. She glances at me, tilts her head to the side, and takes a bite. I crawl to the back of the cage and stick my hands over my nose.

"Stop it."

"You don't like how your friends use you, do you? When a villain goes after them, you have to pay. When Catalyst wanted my son, she took you instead. When I wanted the superhero girl, my henchmen brought you here. Isn't that right, Felix?"

"Stop it!"

She laughs. I hear the crunch of another bite. "I could take you out of that cage, you know. Feed you. Give you free run. Maybe not all that much freedom at first, but enough for you to shower, change. I could use you, if you joined me. I promise it could be quite profitable for you. You could have anything; I have money to spare."

"Join you?" I laugh a dry, humorless laugh. "Why? To be your pet tiger on a diamond-studded leash? I don't think so. All I want, lady, is for Heaven to stay safe."

A pause. "That can be arranged."

I stop laughing. "What?"

"I can ensure your girlfriend isn't hurt. I just want a chat with her, is all."

Somehow, this seems incredibly unlikely, but she has my attention. I lift my head and look at her. She's still eating. My stomach growls again, and I don't know how much will-power I have to hang on to. "About what?"

Owl stretches out, a cruel little smile on her face that makes me shudder. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

"No deal."

"Then you'd rather I left in your cage to reflect?"

I shudder in spite of myself. "You said you'd give me cookies."

"I said that could be arranged. I'm arranging it."

I cross my arms and glare, but Owl knows she's struck something. She takes another bite and finishes off the cookie, licking her fingers. "You're cruel."

"As cruel as Poison would be to Heaven if he got her hands on her?"

My hands fall into my lap. It's a trap. She's tricking me. The woman's a supervillain. I don't want her near Hev, but I heard what Poison said about Hev being broken from the inside. That she would need him and Snare. No. Gats, it's a trap, it's—

"You poor thing." Owl shakes her head and clucks her tongue. Strands of glossy hair bounce against her neck. "You're shaking. I think I've given you a nervous tic." She rises back to her feet, and I stare at her boots, making out the faded seams. "I should leave, shouldn't I? Give you time to reflect—"

"No!" My voice trembles so deeply I hardly recognize it. I scramble to the bars. "No, Owl, please. I'll tell you anything you want. Just don't leave me here."

She smiles down at me. "You are the smarter one. I knew you'd come through, Felix."

I nearly choke.

No, I'm not the smarter one of the group.

I'm the traitor.