^^Above, chapter title credit: Song by Depeche Mode.^^

{Raina}

"You think Felicia would see right through me?" I ask Geoff for probably the tenth time since I decided I wanted to cause her as much pain as she's caused me. He's reassured me every time that if done right, then she wouldn't even know what hit her.

"Raina," Geoff says through a sigh, his hands stopping mid-rub. He's got my feet propped in his lap, and he's been kneading them for the past twenty minutes. "We've been over this. Felicia's blinkered by ambition and false glory from Ridley. I don't think she'll even notice."

"I wish I believed that." I look down at Cam, sitting on my legs, and run my fingers over his hair. He blinks up at me, sticking two fingers in his mouth and sucking.

"She won't be suspecting you, I have a feeling. She seems to want what Ridley wants, and that's power over me." He rubs his thumb over the top of my foot.

"But if our theory's anything to go on, she wants the both of us gone." I know Felicia has a barely contained envy for me, because Geoff seems nearly impervious to her advances. And I can break him down with one look.

"Yeah, that's still a problem," he says, sitting back against the couch pillows. "And when you think about it, there's really no way to confirm, unless we want her onto us."

"She'd do anything to get to you, wouldn't she?" I catch Cam's fists, rubbing them together.

"I hope that's rhetorical." He runs a hand down to my ankle and squeezes it.

"It might be, but I think I know a good place to start." I sit up, pulling my legs in. "I think it's time I had a talk with her face-to-face."

≈

It takes some phone-tag, but I finally nail down a time and place to meet Felicia. Eckles — although I've increasingly been referring to him as Howard in my head — said there's a Mexican restaurant that she really likes on the corner of East 78th and Second Ave. When I call them, they tell me I don't need reservations, I can just walk right in.

I schedule it for the day after we arrive in the city in a week, for the first official executive meeting since the merger. In a split-second decision I decide I should take at least one of my kids with me. Then at least she can't try anything. I know Ettie would ask questions, so it's Cam that gets to go. And this way I have an excuse to smack her if she tries to hurt my son.

Geoff grins when I tell him. I don't know what there is to be grinning about, and I scowl.

"What?" I have to resist the urge to snap at him.

"I just think you're extremely unconventional, that's all."

"Meaning?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Bringing Cam is genius. So is meeting her in a restaurant she likes. She might be able to seduce men, but when it comes to other women, she's no match." A corner of his mouth goes up. "Especially you."

"Now you're just flattering me," I say, trying to keep my tone neutral even though I'm secretly glad that he agreed. And that he actually said my plan could work.

"Am I?" He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. "Or maybe I'm truly grateful that I have such a resourceful and clever wife."

"Believe me, if my best friend hadn't died, this never would have happened." I can't exactly make light out of it yet, considering it's only been seven months.

"Oh, I know. But then again, we never would have been able to make Felicia suffer either."

≈

I arrive at the restaurant just before their peak lunchtime. The server shows us to a table right in the middle of the room, complimenting my son. I smile and thank him, and wave Cam's little hand back at him when he waves. Cam babbles, sticking his tongue out at the server. That makes him laugh.

Felicia walks in less than fifteen minutes later. As always, she carries herself with confidence, like she knows exactly what effect she has on people. The male servers, of course, trip over themselves to show her to our table. I know I shouldn't feel envy, but I do. Something about a baby and a wedding ring turns a lot of single men off.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite trophy wife," she says as she sits down, effortlessly dropping her handbag on the back of the chair.

"Hello to you too, Felicia," I say, bristling. "And for your information, Geoff and I are the same age."

"Are you? I seem to have forgotten that, considering he acts like such a boring old man all the time anymore." She holds up a finger, and one of the servers bustles over to take her drink order.

"I never asked, what is it that fascinates you about my husband?" I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table.

"He's super, first of all," she says, like I should know this. "And he's got tons of money. Not to mention he's my cousin's business partner now. I never would have thought they'd get close."

"Well, surprise, they did. But why not choose the hundreds of other rich men in New York?"

"We haven't even been here ten minutes and this conversation's already going in circles," she says with a huff. "Why do you think?"

"I think it's because of his connection with Ridley Green."

Finally, that gets a reaction out of her that isn't scorn. Her eyes flare purple, and her jaw tightens. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"It's not so outrageous, Felicia. Three years ago, in college. When the Red Knight stopped Hammerhead. You were there, Geoff's already told me. You saw the whole thing." I don't even care that I see her hands, closing into white-knuckled fists. "Ridley Green is bitter that he never achieved his goal, nor did he manage to get Geoff on his side. And now that we're not stuck on a college campus anymore, he can go after him in a bigger way."

"This is all just guesswork on your part," she says, but there's a distinct edge to her voice, like she knows I'm getting closer. "You can't just take him at his word."

"Oh, can't I? I seem to remember Sky Scraper telling me the same thing."

"You trust that lummox?" Felicia scoffs, but she's visibly uncomfortable now.

"Actually, 'that lummox' is my husband's best friend, and one of the bravest supers I know. And he's not stupid. Neither of them are. They're smart enough to see through you and Ridley."

"Are you always going to defend him? He might appeal to your yokel sympathies, but neither of them are as golden as you think." She raises an eyebrow at me.

"I have a name, Felicia," I snap, irritated that she's brought up my small-town upbringing again. "And you know what? Ridley could go down for any number of charges, when we've built up enough evidence to accuse him with. And so could you."

"Yeah, okay." She rolls her eyes. "Like what?"

"Well, murdering Professor Walker. Destruction of H. Eckles Limited, your cousin's property. Arson, maybe. Conspiracy. Blackmail. Extortion. Should I keep going?"

"You have proof?" she growls, but I can tell she's visibly spooked.

"Actually, we do. But we won't use it unless we absolutely have to, you see." Having some power over her for a change is nice, even though I know it won't last.

She waits to speak again after we order, and there's an audible change in her voice.

"I know what you're trying to do," she hisses.

"You do?" I feel a rush of alarm — I'm probably going to lose her any second.

"You're trying to get me to tell you something about Ridley. Well, guess what, you little hick. Dom and I are keeping that under wraps."

"I see," I say, even though now she's confirmed what we've suspected all along. "Then tell me something else. Why did you file a restraining order against Geoff? I seem to remember you touching him whenever you felt like it, not the other way around."

"That's just a rephrasing of your earlier question. I won't answer it."

Well, at least I've found out something else. She probably didn't file it at all. Maybe Ridley or even Pascal filed it on her behalf. Then they'd have an excuse to keep a closer eye on Geoff.

"Then will you tell me why you're sleeping with your boss's campaign manager? I may be a hick, as you put it, but even I know that's not right."

"I'm not sleeping with—" she protests, just a second too quickly.

"Whatever you say, Felicia." I cut her off. "I didn't come here to accuse you of anything, you know. I just wanted you to know that we can."

"So what? You don't exactly have a spotless past either." Her eyes flare again, a bright purple, and she looks ready to lunge.

"Touch me in front of my son, and I'll have you arrested right here," I say, making sure to keep my tone sharp. "And I may not be clean, but at least I'm cleaner than you. I told myself I'd stay out of trouble after I got married and had kids."

"And how has that worked out?" she snaps. "You always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. How is that staying out of trouble?"

"I stand by my husband. That's always the right place."

She opens her mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. For once, she's speechless, and I can only give her a small smile, raising an eyebrow. Then our food comes, and she doesn't have time to say anything else. In fact, we don't really talk at all the entire time we eat. I keep myself occupied with the consolation that at least we know where the other stands now.

It's only after we finish, pay — separately, because our mutual dislike prevents us from wanting to do each other a favor — and leave that she finally speaks, grabbing my elbow and pressing her thumb so hard into my inner arm I know there'll be a bruise.

"You think you have all the power now, Raina," she hisses into my ear, so that to other people this might not look unusual. "But you won't be so cocky when Ridley wins."

Then she lets go, bumping my shoulder hard. I watch her until she disappears in the crowd, and then look down at Cam in his stroller.

"Bababa," he says, waving his hand around.

"How about a walk in the park, sweetie?" I catch his little fist in my hand. "I think we could both use it, don't you?"

But that doesn't help. I'm so edgy that I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see someone acting suspiciously, stopping when I stop, looking away when I turn around. Instead I hustle back to the hotel and sit in the lobby, waiting for Geoff while Cam sits on my knee, both his hands closing in and out of fists. He keeps babbling, giving me taps with his fists to keep my knee dandling him. But I can't concentrate on him. All I can think about is Felicia's expression, like she wanted to leap on me right then and there and beat the living daylights out of me.

Finally, nearly an hour later, Geoff enters the revolving door. I set Cam very carefully in his stroller as Geoff approaches, and pull him into a tight hug with no explanation when he's close.

"Raina, what..." He sounds confused, even as he returns the favor and hugs me back. "What's wrong?"

"She terrifies me, Geoff." I bury my face in his shoulder. "I hate it."

"Yeah, me too," he says, resting his cheek on my hair. "But if she's smart, she won't blow you off either."

"She threatened me." I pull away just enough to show him the shape of her thumb on my arm. "I could feel it."

He kisses it, very gently, and then does the same to my forehead. "Well, at least she knows now you're not afraid of her. Maybe she'll be more careful now."

I nod, but say nothing. I hope I didn't goad her into doing something drastic. But somehow, I think I may be wrong.

≈

I can't sleep that night. I toss and turn for hours before I just give up and get out of bed, pulling on a sweater over my tank top as I go over to the window. I slide between it and the drawn curtains, so I don't wake Geoff, and stare down at the city without really seeing it. Using my infant son as protection against a powerful super villain was not one of my finest moments. In fact, I hate that I couldn't come up with something else, or even better, defend myself.

Geoff grunts and shifts in bed, but he doesn't wake. I sigh and slide out from behind the curtain, taking the key card from the dresser as I slip out into the hallway. It's quiet enough out here that I can think more clearly. I want to go after Felicia in a bigger way, not just with threats and taunts. I want the whole city — hell, even the whole state — to see who she truly is.

I get down to the lobby, and although at first it looks deserted except for the sleepy concierge behind the desk, on my second glance around I see a tall, broad-shouldered man with short dark hair and feet planted wide apart staring out the window. I recognize his face in the reflection: it's Eckles.

Slowly and cautiously I approach him. Startling a super, especially a powerful one, is the last thing anyone will ever do. But he must see me coming — or sense me, probably — because he turns around before I reach him.

"Howard?" I say, and I wish I didn't sound so surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep," he says, rubbing the back of his head. "Left my place and went for a walk, ended up here. Can't say how that happened."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "You have absolutely no idea?"

He gives me a smile that makes my heart punch against my ribs unexpectedly. I know I shouldn't allow him to flirt with me, given his professional relationship with Geoff and everything. But his earlier prediction is proving itself correct: it seems I do have a type.

"Well...now that you're here...I guess I should tell you about my meeting with Felicia."

"Yeah." He nods. "But not in the lobby. Too many ears an' such. C'mon. I know a good place."

I follow him to the elevators, and once we get in it occurs to me that this is the first time we've been completely alone since Ridley's campaign event. But he's not that lascivious, arrogant man who thought he was untouchable anymore. Now he's slumped against the opposite wall, vest unbuttoned and collar open by two buttons, revealing the burn scars down his neck. He's not even looking at me, instead concentrating on the floor, brow furrowed. He looks like a man who's been beaten and knows it.

The elevator dings and we get out, following a short hallway with a door marked Roof Access at the end. He shoulders it open, holding it for me. I realize my feet are still bare, but it's too late to mention it now. And I completely forget about it when I step out on the roof, the breeze tugging at my hair. I can't suppress a small gasp at the view. It's even better than the one from our room.

"Like it?" he says, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

"The view, it's..." I inch up to the low wall, gripping the rail and leaning forward just slightly. "It's spectacular."

"Always thought New York was better at night." He joins me, leaning back against the wall and digging his hands into his pockets. "So tell me 'bout my cousin. What'd she say?"

I recount what I can remember. On her end, she was mostly hurling insults at me. I almost wish my background wasn't public, so no one could use it against me. His expression changes when I mention the restraining order, and when I finish, he doesn't speak for a long time.

"Here's one thing I know," he says finally. "Sounds like you spooked her mighty good."

"That's what Geoff said too."

"Felicia's not good with other women. She can deal with men just fine, 'cause of her powers. But she knows she's not the only one with powers of seduction when it comes to women."

"Female rivalry." I pull my sweater closer around me as the breeze pulls it away. "In context, it makes perfect sense."

"Yeah," he says, scuffing a heel on the ground. "She gets nasty when she's underestimated somebody."

"No kidding."

"She was always kinda like that." He turns around, and completely purposefully sets his hand over mine on the rail. I feel the heat from it all the way up my arm. "Always thought she was the best at everything. But when she turned out not to be, she hated 'em."

"How'd you two get along?" I ask, turning my head to look at him. "Even before I knew you well, you didn't seem like that."

"Forced it," he says grudgingly. "'Cause if I didn't, she would'a had nobody."

That gives me pause for a second. I knew exactly what it was like to feel utterly alone in the world, even when you were surrounded by other people. In my case, it was because of my dad, no longer making me feel safe in my own body. But with Felicia, she seemed to hate everyone so much it was hard to tell.

"She was bullied a lot as a kid," he says after a spell of silence. "Probably 'cause she was different. Like super and everything. But other kids always made fun of her when she couldn't control her powers. Flooded out her entire second-grade classroom when some kid stole her lunch."

"Really? She manifested that early?"

He shrugs, his hand moving on mine. "Some of us do. Got mine when I was twelve. Fortunately that was before all the embarrassing puberty stuff."

I manage a smile. "Lucky you. When I was twelve, I got my period."

He grins over at me. "Think I'd rather have the superpowers."

"Believe me, so would I." I don't want to say anything about how hard it was, in a house with my dad, to sneak home boxes of feminine products. And as a twelve-year-old, with no sex ed and no knowledge about what puberty was, I thought I was dying. The guidance counselor at school had to set me straight.

"In a way, I'm kinda glad we went our separate ways," he says after a while, running one hand over his hair. "Knew she was up to no good, even then."

"I wonder if Ridley was like that," I say, more to myself than to him, but I feel his hand tense.

"Rid Green's rotten from the inside out." His power sparks, and I feel the shock through the metal. "I hear you can't be born evil, but I think he was."

"It's like any rule. There's always exceptions."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." His hand lifts away from mine and a second later lands in the middle of my back, between my shoulder blades. I let it stay there. I see nothing wrong with the gesture.

We don't speak as he slides it down, settling on the small of my back. He shouldn't be touching me like this, and I shouldn't be letting him. But I don't really mind it. We may have been at odds once, and he might have tried to hit on me in less-than-subtle ways, but that was before Ridley blew us both up.

"Sometimes I wish he wasn't in the picture," he says after a while. "Then we could all get on with our lives."

"So do I," I agree, and without warning, El darts across my mind. I remember her smile, the way her blue eyes sparked with mischief every time she teased me about Geoff, how she held Ettie for the first time and proclaimed herself "Auntie El." That makes tears jump to my eyes and I turn away, trying to wipe at them as subtly as possible.

"Hey," he says, and he sounds concerned. "You okay?"

"Fine, I just..." I notice how scratchy my voice is. "Just something in my eye."

"It's Ellen, isn't it?" he asks. "Ellen Forbes. I remember her mentioning you a few times."

I nod, my tears coming so quickly I don't have time to wipe them away. But he does, catching my cheek in his hand and brushing them away with his thumb. The gesture is so gentle, and so unlike him that I only close my eyes and will myself to stop.

"She was great," he says quietly. "Never late, worked hard, had a sense of humor. Steadfast too. And loyal."

"Yeah." I bite my lip. "That was El."

"Listen, Raina, if I'd known..."

"I don't blame you, Howard. Honestly, I don't." I open my eyes and find his face level with mine, his bright blue ones rimmed with white like they're glowing from the inside.

He doesn't answer, only smiles with just the barest quirk of his mouth. Then suddenly he's leaning forward, his hand sliding to cup the back of my neck, so close I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips...

A sudden spark of electricity jumps between us, shocking us apart. I press my knuckles to my lips and back away, and he shuffles backward as well, squeezing the back of his neck.

"Sorry...I guess I got caught up in the moment," he says finally.

I nod, biting my lip. "I should go."

He says nothing as I hurry towards the door, yanking it open and running inside, my bare feet slipping on the linoleum. In fact I don't stop until I'm leaning up against the bathroom door back in our hotel room, breathing hard and a sweat breaking out on my forehead. I catch my reflection in the mirror — my hair windblown, my cheeks flushed, both my sweater and my tank top slipping off one shoulder — and look away quickly. I tell myself to get a grip. I know it was my emotions that time, and had nothing to do with his powers. I can't let him do that again.

Then my knees give way and I slide down to the floor, digging my hands into my hair. Why would I even need to seek his attention? I have a husband who loves me and two kids that depend on me for nearly everything. I pound a fist into my forehead, hoping something'll come loose.

But there isn't an answer, and that's what makes me feel the most guilty.