Micah was beginning to grow restless as he sat.

Not of any fault of Lian's. No, his restlessness stemmed entirely from his own anxieties. His companion was relatively quiet, as usual, only speaking to make the occasional comment on their surroundings or answer Micah's questions as they attempted to navigate the city. They seemed to have come to a mutual understanding since that first day. They were far from allies and further from friends. But they no longer hated each other.

At least, Micah hoped Lian didn't.

He and Lian had walked from the warehouse to a more populated street, one where they knew they couldn't be traced back to the warehouse so easily. They'd hailed an Uber and piled in, ordering the driver to take them downtown. It was a relatively short drive, not much more than five minutes in length. The warehouse, after all, was built on the outskirts of the city. A relic of Amberchase's bygone industrial boom. Musty, old, and abandoned, just like many of the buildings around it likely were.

Micah leaned his head back on the headrest of the car seat as it pulled away from the sidewalk, closing his eyes and just thinking for a moment. This whole job thing... it was a risk. With Addie somewhere in the city, searching for him, he was liable to be caught. Dragged back to Westender, where he'd rot, bored and isolated in a cold, smelly little city.

It was a horrible thought.

As shitty of a start as he had experienced in this villain school of Scythe's, it was still preferable to that. To being cooped up, coddled, controlled. He'd had a taste of freedom these past few years, and he wasn't going to give it up for anyone.

Not even for Addie.

He knew she meant well. She just didn't understand. He doubted she ever would. After all, she'd known her mother. She'd grown up being loved, cared for, cherished. Adelaide's mother had been an upstanding citizen. More than that. A hero. And, according to Addie, the best mom a kid could ask for.

But Pardus had taken her mother from her. Kidnapped her right in front of Addie. Then, the poor girl, a chipper teenager with a bright future, was ripped from her life and forced to help care for Micah and Matthew. A pair of little boys who were being molded to follow in the footsteps of the villain who'd ruined her life.

It was a wonder that Adelaide didn't resent him and Matthew. He thought that if he were in her situation, he might not have been able to be as kind and caring as she was. She'd put her grief aside and showed them something they hadn't ever felt before. Love. She'd been a true sister, despite the circumstances.

But she'd always been different. Micah had been raised to be a villain. For the seven years before he met her, he'd only known what Pardus and his mercenary guardians taught him. And after she arrived, he'd still had to work for Pardus, to commit all sorts of crimes that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to tell anyone about.

But she? She had always been aiming to lure him into the world of heroes.

Micah refused. Hell would freeze over before he became a hero.

Unfortunately, Addie wasn't all too great at handling Micah's more... criminal side. Her solution was to lock him away from all the bad influences in the way and to prattle on and on about how great it would be if he got his hero license. After all, he was soon to be eighteen. Almost old enough to register as a hero, should he pass the course required.

He'd rather die than join some hero high school. That sounded miserable. He'd heard enough about those schools to keep him away. He'd heard in most places, you could buy your way in. That attendance wasn't judged on merit alone, sometimes, but by things like showmanship or, once again, money.

Hero schools were probably chock-full of conceited air-heads.

Then again, Scythe's villain school wasn't really much more high-quality, seeing as it's entire student body was made up of a ragtag group of homeless idiots.

He supposed that that made him a homeless idiot, too.

"Micah."

Lian's voice snagged his attention. Not for any particular reason. Lian still spoke softly, almost lyrically. But Micah had been surprised by the plain and simple fact that Lian had talked at all. He opened his eyes to face his traveling companion, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"We're almost here," Lian answered. "I thought you might've fallen asleep, so I thought I'd wake you up." He paused. "Were you asleep?"

"No." Micah shook his head. "Not at all."

"Well, you look exhausted."

Micah felt exhausted too. Between his restless, nightmare-infested nights and his lack of caffeine, he was dead on his feet. He needed a nap, or a cup of coffee, but neither had been available to him over the past few days, and it was killing him.

He perked up a little as an idea struck him.

"Lian," he said suddenly. "Let's try checking out a coffee shop first."

"A coffee shop?" There was disapproval in his voice.

"Sure." Micah felt a grin growing on his face. "It's perfect, right?"

"I don't know."

"I think it is," Micah declared, leaning forward to speak with the driver. "Hey, uh, can you take us to the nearest coffee shop, sir?"

"Sure thing," The driver said, altering his route. "It's a popular one. Pretty busy. Thinking of applying there for work or something?"

Micah nodded. "Sure am. Both of us are."

"You're probably in luck, then. This place goes through its employees far too quickly for its own good. Most people can't handle how demanding it is to work there, even with the good pay."

"Fine with me." Micah shrugged. "I'm a hard worker."

"If you say so."

Soon, the car pulled to a stop. Lian opened the door, and Micah slid out after him. After paying the driver, the car sped away, leaving the pair standing on a sidewalk. Micah scanned the area. Just as the driver had said, the shop that they stood before was busy. Incredibly busy. The line ran right up to the door, and every table within seemed to be filled.

"Let's get in line," Micah suggested, strolling forward. "We'll grab a cup of coffee and ask if they've got any positions open."

"I don't think that's how that works."

"Sure it is." Micah grinned back at him. "Now come on, let's go. I need my caffeine fix, pronto."

Lian sighed and followed after him. "I don't even like coffee."

"Tea, then?"

"No," Lian said. "I don't like warm drinks."

"Impossible." Micah gasped as he stepped into line. "How could you not like warm drinks? Especially coffee?"

"I just don't."

"We need to fix that," Micah declared.

"Please don't."

"You don't get a choice, my dear pal."

"I'm not your pal, Micah."

Micah tsked. "Your loss, buddy."

"I'm not your buddy, either."

"Too bad, amigo."

"God. Just... stop."

"Make me."

"I will leave," Lian warned. "I don't have to wait here. I can go look elsewhere."

"Fine," Micah drawled. "I'll shut up."

"I seriously doubt that you will, but thank you."

Micah grinned, stepping forward as the line progressed. "You're right. I won't. But I'll leave you alone about the whole hating-coffee thing. For now."

"Thank you." Came Lian's dry reply.

"You're so very welcome." Micah winked. "So what do you want to talk about, if not coffee?"

There was a pause. Then came his reply. "Well... I've been wondering. Your sister. What... well, what's the story with her?"

Micah wrinkled his nose a bit. "Tell you what. I'll tell you about my hero family if you tell me about yours."

"Deal."

"So what do you want to know?"

"What's her name, first of all?"

"Adelaide. I call her Addie, though. Like most people do."

"No." Lian sighed. "Her hero name. Her alias."

"Oh." Micah drew out the word. "Her alias is Aegis."

"Aegis, huh? I don't think I've heard of her."

"She's been working in Westender, on the other side of the country. It's a boring little city. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of her." Micah replied easily. "Now what about you? Your mom's a hero, I think you mentioned. What's her name?"

"Yin-Yang."

Micah laughed. "I know. You've already said. I meant her real name."

"Taiyi. That was her name," Lian said, a strange tone to his voice.

"Taiyi? That's a pretty name," Micah commented.

"Isn't it just?" There was almost a note of bitterness in the boy's voice. "It's the name of God, according to some ancient history. It fits well for someone who holds the power to both heal and hurt at will. Someone who believes herself perfect."

That was a lot to unpack. "Okay..."

"My mother was the single most popular hero in China," Lian continued. "And one of the most popular in all of East Asia. She was powerful. Her idio was a combination of mine and my sister's. She could both heal wounds and reverse the healing of wounds. Not only that, but she'd grown up wealthy. Extremely wealthy. She'd received the best training her parents could find for her. She was perfect."

One word, in particular, stood out to Micah. "She... was?"

He heard a long sigh from the boy beside him. "It's complicated."

Micah snorted. "I bet. Care to explain anyways?"

"No, not really," Lian retorted.

"Worth a shot."

"Whatever," Lian dismissed. "Moving on and back to you and your sister. You said you left her. Why? Do you two not get along?"

"No, we get along swimmingly." Micah stepped forward as the line moved up. "For the most part, at least. We just have different paths in life. And since she wouldn't exactly approve of mine, I had to leave without telling her."

"You actually got along with your sister?"

"Judging by your tone, I'm guessing you didn't get along with yours." Micah snorted.

"That's an understatement," Lian muttered. Then, a bit louder, said: "My sister was just as perfect as my mom. So she got all the love. She and my mom saw me as the family screw-up. The kid who just couldn't quite fight right, the kid with the cursed idio, the kid who liked art more than fistfights. The oddball. And they made it quite clear that they felt that way."

God. Micah wondered if Lian had really been curious about Adelaide or if the poor boy had just needed someone to unload his life story on. This guy and his whole family clearly needed a therapist.

"So you left them?"

"No," Lian said. "They dumped me on a relative in the US. And then I ran away."

"Ah." Micah nodded, stepping forward again. "And that's when Scythe found you?"

"Yes."

"Great." Micah snorted. "He found me pretty soon after I left my sister, too. I wonder if he was keeping tabs on all of us before he recruited us."

That made Micah a bit nervous. After all, Micah and Addie had gone to Westender to hide. If someone like Scythe had found them, it wouldn't be too hard for certain other people to find him either.

"He likely was," Lian said. "It wouldn't be too surprising if he had been."

"Next!" The cashier called, interrupting the conversation.

Micah smiled. "How are you, sir?"

"Just fine, thank you," The cashier politely replied. "What can I get you?"

"How about an iced caramel macchiato?" Micah said after a moment of thought. "It's warm enough outside for a cold drink, don't you think?"

"Sure is. And you?" The barista looked over at Lian.

"I'll have a lemonade," Micah's companion said quietly.

"Yes, sir." The barista made a gesture. "Have a seat, and we'll bring it out to you."

Micah smiled. "Thank you." He passed the barista his card to pay, then said to Lian: "Go find somewhere to sit."

Lian muttered something under his breath, then trudged off to do just that. Micah chuckled, then turned back to the barista to take his card back.

"Can I have a name for this order?" The barista asked.

"Micah."

"Alright, Mr. Micah, we'll have your order out to you in a jiffy."

"Thanks." Micah nodded, then walked off to find Lian.

The little coffee shop was packed. With all the unfamiliar bodies so close together, it was hard to tell people apart. He scanned the area, trying to pick out Lian's energy signature. There was something vaguely familiar about this place. He couldn't quite tell what. Perhaps he'd been here before. Maybe this was the same coffee shop as the one he'd visited upon first arriving here, the day that Scythe had found him. He wouldn't know.

"Micah."

Micah turned at the sound of Lian's voice. "Oh. There you are." He walked over and plopped down in the seat across from him. "You know, you could've called me over sooner. I was just standing there like a dumbass."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Micah chuckled. "Fair enough, I guess."

Silence fell over them as they waited for their drinks to arrive. Micah tried to think through everything he was worried about again, but found that the clamor of the shop was too much. So he just loosed a little breath and allowed his head to remain irritatingly void of thought.

"Micah?"

Micah turned his face upward, toward the sound of the voice. "Yes, that's me."

"I've got an iced caramel macchiato and a lemonade here for you." The barista distributed the drinks. "Is that all?"

"Actually—" Micah began. "We were wondering if there were any job openings here."

"Are you asking if we're hiring?"

"Yes, sir," Lian spoke up.

"Well, we are," The barista said. "I can send the manager out to talk to you, if you want."

"That would be wonderful." There was a smile in Lian's voice. "Thank you."

The barista nodded and walked off, pushing through a pair of doors and disappearing beyond them. Micah tried to track his movements, but it was hard to do so through several walls, especially since there were a couple of employees mingling around in that area. But soon, the barista returned, with a stranger in tow.

"I heard you boys are looking for a job here." The manager's voice was loud and gruff. She sounded rather grumpy.

"Yes, ma'am." Lian's head bobbed. "We were wondering if there were any openings here."

"There sure are," The manager huffed. "I'll hire you if you bring in a resume."

"Really?" Micah was astonished. He felt like it should've been a bit more difficult to get a job than this.

"Yes, really." The manager snorted. "We could use the workers." She paused. "If your resume checks out, you can start training the day you bring it in."

"Great!" Micah enthused. "That sounds wonderful!"

"It does sound nice," Lian agreed. "Thank you very much."

"Just bring in your resumes before the end of the week," She ordered. "This place moves fast. You need to too."

Micah saluted her. "We'll try to bring them in tomorrow!"

"You do that," She muttered, before stalking off, the barista following her close behind.

"That was easy." Micah grinned over at Lian.

"Too easy." Lian sighed. "I've never heard of a shop being run like that. Aren't there standards for how you hire employees?"

"Probably." Micah shrugged. "But I don't care what they are and if she follows them, if it means us getting a job so easily."

"Are you really that lazy?"

"Sure am." Micah nodded. "Work smarter, not harder, am I right?"

"Micah, hard work builds character."

"Does not. It builds callouses and pain tolerance and stress levels. That's all."

"You're being dramatic."

Micah laughed. "I'm always being dramatic, Lian. Get used to it."

"I suppose I will, indeed, have to get used to it, if we're going to be classmates," Lian commented, sipping from his lemonade.

"Classmates?" Micah made a face. "That's not quite the word I'd use for it."

"What, then?"

"I don't know." Micah waved a hand. "But not classmates."

"Fine, then, teammates. Better?"

"Not really, but it sounds less like we're in a school, so sure."

"Micah," Lian patiently said. "We are in a school."

"Nope," Micah denied.

"It's literally a school for villains, Micah. Scythe has already said that many times."

Micah just slurped his macchiato loudly, trying to drown out the sound of his companion's voice. If he couldn't win the argument, he'd irritate Lian until he stepped down. It always worked. Mostly because Micah was quite skilled at irritating people. It was an art form, one that he'd perfected, though not entirely on purpose.

"Micah, stop." Already, Lian sounded annoyed.

Micah just kept slurping away.

"Micah, please. That's disgusting."

"You're disgusting." Came Micah's childish reply, before he continued to slurp.

"You're going to get a brain freeze."

"The cold never bothered me anyway," Micah replied, trying and failing to make his tone sound properly smooth and humorous.

Lian groaned at that. "Whatever. Have it your way."

"I will." Micah went back to slurping his macchiato.

Lian fell silent, just staring at him. Quietly drinking his own drink. Watching Micah intently. So when Micah felt that tell-tale discomfort in his head, that mind-splitting, aching sensation that came with drinking cold drinks too fast, he did his best to keep his face from contorting in pain. He was good at hiding pain, at dealing with it, processing it.

Which was why he was surprised when, soon after the sensation had passed, Lian's voice softly said: "I told you so."

"What?" Micah innocently asked.

"Brain freeze, Micah."

"I didn't get one," Micah lied.

"Of course you did."

"How would you know?"

"I sensed it."

"You sensed it?" That was alarming.

Lian nodded. "Part of my idio is that I can sense old wounds and pains. Sicknesses, too. The body remembers it all. And my idio helps it resurface. So when your brain freeze passed, I sensed it."

Micah frowned at him. "You can sense all of everyone's former pains?" He was still hung up on that.

"Yes, though it takes concentration."

Good. That was good. Micah didn't know if he liked the idea of Lian knowing all his weak spots.

"I must say, Micah," Lian continued, interrupting his thought. "It's been a while since I've met someone your age with your level of... old damage."

Micah tensed. "What do you mean?" Had he been wrong? Maybe Lian did know all his weak spots.

"You know what I mean." Lian's tone turned serious. "Normally I only sense this sort of thing with adult heroes or villains. People who've faced years of violence."

"Well, I already told you." Micah's grip on his cup tightened. "I used to work for a villain. I've seen my fair share of violence." Both on the battlefield and off.

"You sure have." Lian's voice turned a bit distant. "I... well, never mind."

"What?"

"Well..." Lian hesitated. "People tend to fear me upon learning my idio. After all, it's a dangerous one. One that can quite literally open old wounds, both literally and figuratively. No one likes to relive old pains. I just thought I'd say... I know you've got a fair amount of old wounds yourself."

"Yes." Micah's tone was cautious.

"Micah, what I'm trying to say is that you have nothing to worry about from me." His companion finally managed to say. "I'm not going to use my powers on you. Not unless you give me reason to."

"Like what sort of reasons?" Micah narrowed his eyes at him.

"Obvious things. Don't try to hurt me, and I won't hurt you," Lian answered. "Outside of sparring matches, of course."

"Of course," echoed Micah. "Common sense. Alright, Lian. I'll take your word for it. But forgive me if I'm still a bit wary about shaking your hand."

"That's fair," Lian said quietly. "I won't push the matter." He stood. "Let's go check around at the other stores to see if they're hiring too. Just in case. Then we can head back to the school."

"It's totally not a school." Micah quickly corrected.

"Warehouse, fine. You knew what I meant."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Jeez. Just come on." Lian stalked off, headed towards the door with his drink in hand.

"I'm coming." Micah laughed, following close behind. "I'm coming."

~     ~     ~

Thirteen stores later, Micah was just about ready to fall over. Yet, caffeinated as he was, he also knew sitting still would drive him mad. Lian had assured him that they were only going to visit a couple of places, but they'd ended up visiting every single coffee shop, restaurant, and convenience store in the area. Micah's feet were going to fall off. He hadn't walked so much in more than a week.

"Are we done?" He complained to poor Lian. "I want to go back."

"To the coffee shop?" The exasperated Lian asked.

"No, the warehouse," Micah answered. "I want to go back and not do this. This is boring."

"This was your idea."

"Well, it's a boring one, and I regret ever voicing it," Micah declared. "I should've let us all just be broke."

"No, Micah, it's a good plan." Lian patiently said, walking a pace or two faster than Micah, despite Micah's longer legs and height advantage. "We just need to get through this boring part so we can do the more fun parts."

"Like shopping," Micah enthused. "Shopping is fun."

"Yes. Shopping for essential items. Like you said earlier."

Micah rolled his eyes. "I was an uncaffeinated killjoy back then. Disregard all I said. Please. For everyone's sake. Let us have fun."

"No, not until we've done all the things you listed off earlier."

"Come on, really?" Micah groaned.

"Really."

"This sucks."

"Relax, Micah, we're almost done anyways."

Micah perked up. "Oh?"

"Yes. We're going to try these last four stores and then—"

"Nope." Micah suddenly pivoted and walked in the opposite direction. "Not doing that."

Footsteps pattered on the sidewalk behind him as Lian caught up with him. "Seriously? How immature are you?"

"More mature than you, honestly," Micah snorted.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Of course you do."

"Come on," Lian pressed. "It's just four more places to go, and then we're done for good."

"Lian, we've already hit thirteen stores. If we don't get jobs there, we can just come back later."

Lian crossed his arms as he kept pace with Micah, who was still walking steadily away from the stores Lian wanted to visit. "You're being ridiculous."

"Perhaps," Micah drawled. "But I think anyone would under the circumstances."

"I can't say I agree."

"Of course you can't."

Micah was so tired of this. He knew it was his idea, but his plan had been to visit a couple of stores, not over a dozen, then return to the warehouse and wait for a response. This was so much more than what he'd planned on. Lian seemed to be quite the perfectionist. Micah, too, had some perfectionist tendencies. But only really in regards to physical performance. Not for this. Besides, his body had just begun to feel better after the fights he'd been in. His nose was still tender, but he knew from experience that it would probably be another week or two before it was fine again.

"Fine," Lian said, surprising Micah. "Fine, we'll be done. But we're coming back tomorrow and following up with all the places we asked about. Okay?"

"Thank God!" Micah exclaimed. "Yes, please. That sounds like the best plan you've ever made."

"Let's just get an Uber." Lian sounded like he was at his wit's end.

That made two of them.

Micah pulled out his phone and opened the app, hailing a ride. An electronic voice announced that his driver would arrive in a few minutes. He sighed and tucked his phone away once more.

"What do we do now?" Lian asked.

"Wait," Micah said, scanning the area. "Do you see any benches to sit on?"

"No." Lian slowly turned in place. Then he pointed. "But we're near the coffee shop. We could go wait in there."

Micah smiled, walking towards that direction. "And get more coffee?"

"How much coffee do you need?"

"As much as I can get," He declared. "I've gone too long with it."

"It's only been, what, three days since you arrived at Scythe's school?"

"Exactly." Micah sighed. "Three days without my caffeine fix. Horrible. Absolutely horrible. It's been torture. We need a coffee machine in the warehouse."

"You're an addict, aren't you?"

"I'm a connoisseur, mon ami."

"Is that French?" Lian snorted, getting the door for Micah.

"Yep. It means 'my—"

"I know what it means."

"You're so smart." Micah laughed, patting him on the back rather roughly. His poor companion stumbled, not used to such a thing.

Then Micah froze. Blinked in shock.

Oh no.

"Don't do th—"

Before Lian could finish his sentence, Micah clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him towards a little side hallway, one that led back to the staff-only area and the restroom. Lian yanked Micah's hand away. Micah flinched, expecting pain, but relaxed upon realizing that the boy was wearing gloves. Or, well, relaxed a little.

After all, he still had plenty to be stressed about.

What were the odds?

How bad was his luck?

"What was that for?" Lian hissed, clearly irritated.

Micah closed his eyes. His heart pounded within. He kept his breathing steady and fought to control the rest of him similarly. God, how? How had she found him? It was impossible. How had she found him in such a big city?

"My sister," He finally answered. "My sister's here. In this shop."

"What?" Lian gasped. "Really? Where?"

"Talking to the barista. Probably asking about me. Us."

"Oh... great." Lian moved to peak around the corner, but Micah grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"Don't. Don't do that."

Lian's irritation spiked as Micah grabbed him once again, and he shook his arm free. "Fine. But don't touch me, alright?"

"Whatever."

Eyes still closed, Micah concentrated. He focused on that energy signature. It was definitely Adelaide's. No doubt about it. Great. He strained to listen to her, but couldn't. Not with this much space between them and all the racket in the shop.

"What are we going to do?" Lian whispered. "Wait it out? See if she'll leave?"

"No." Micah breathed as he formulated a plan. "No, that won't work. She'll keep an eye on this area now that she knows I've been here. She won't give up until she's narrowed down where I am."

"That's... not good."

"No, it isn't," Micah agreed. "I need to get her to stop. And there's only one way she'll stop."

"How?"

"I need to... to talk to her."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Micah nodded. "But not today. Not yet. I need a better plan. So... for now? We're going to have to make a break for it."

"That's your plan?" Lian let out a quiet, scornful laugh. "Outrun a hero? Great."

"Do you have a better one?"

"Wait her out. See if she'll leave."

Micah frowned. "That won't work."

"Why not?"

"It just won't."

"Tell you what, Micah." Lian turned to face him. "We'll do my plan first, then yours, if it comes to it. Okay? Okay."

Micah rolled his eyes. "Sure, Lian. Sounds good."

They both fell silent. Micah kept close tabs on his sister, watching and waiting for her to leave. But on and on she talked, going and going. Lian let out a frustrated sigh. They both began to realize how long this waiting game might last.

Suddenly, Micah's phone dinged and the pair flinched.

"Your ride is here!" His phone's electronic voice announced loudly.

"Turn that off, turn it off!" Lian urgently whispered.

Micah swore. "I'm trying!"

Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out. "Micah?"

"Shit." Micah's eyes flashed open. "She heard it." He glanced at Lian. "See the car?"

"I do." Lian nodded.

"Well, then it's time for my plan," Micah announced. "Go!"

With that, Micah took off, running towards the door, Lian hot on his heels. Behind him, he heard Adelaide call his name again, her voice a bit more intense. More angry and loud. Lian slammed the door behind them, then followed Micah to the car that idled at the curb. Micah threw the door open and slid in. Lian shut the door quickly.

"Micah!" He heard one last time before they pulled away.

He shuddered. She sounded... so angry. But not just angry. She sounded sad, distraught, scared, too. Nearly hysterical. He squeezed his eyes shut, melting into the car seat. Oh, God. She was never going to forgive him for this, was she? He'd ruined the trust between them.

A heavy silence settled over the car, a silence only broken by the sound of the boys' heavy breathing. The driver didn't ask any questions. Of course he didn't. In Amberchase, it was better to keep questions to yourself. Asking the wrong questions to the wrong people could get you involved in trouble. And trouble in Amberchase was usually not the kind anyone wanted to be involved in.

"So..." Lian eventually said. "That was her."

"Yeah." Micah ran a hand through his hair, still unable to believe that that had just happened. "Yeah, that was her."

Lian paused. "She... looks nothing like you."

Micah managed to laugh at that. "Uh... yeah. We're both adopted."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"That explains the age difference, too."

"Sure does."

There was another pause. Then, Lian spoke again. "So... she's looking for you. Why didn't you mention this earlier?"

"I thought it was implied."

"No, Micah, it was not implied." Lian sighed heavily.

"Well, now you know," Micah answered, his voice growing thick with frustration. "Happy?"

"No," Lian retorted. "I'm not happy that we have a hero hunting us down. Why would I be happy about that?"

"I was being sarcastic." Micah threw a glare at him.

"Yes, I know. And what a great time for sarcasm it is, Micah."

"Hypocrite."

"I'm allowed to be sarcastic." Lian jabbed a finger at him. "Because I am not the one whose sister is tracking me down like a goddamn bloodhound. You screwed up, Micah. Big time. You should've told us all that this was a possibility."

"It's none of your business." Micah crossed his arms.

"It is. It really is." Lian shook his head. "Get your head out of your ass and realize that, for the love of God."

"Well forgive me for thinking my private life was private," Micah said sharply.

"It stops being private when—" Lian cut himself off as he glanced back up at the driver. "You know what? We'll talk about this when we get back, uh, home. With the family."

"None of you are my family," Micah growled. "She is. And I'm not about to drag her into all of this bullshit with you all."

"Too late, Micah," Lian said. "The moment you joined up at school was the moment she was dragged into it, whether she knew it or not."

Micah bristled but didn't reply. He knew Lian was right. And that's what he hated the most. That he was getting lectured. By one of these sheltered, untrained villains. On something like this.

The silence lasted for the remainder of the drive. Their relatively civil time together throughout the day had come to an abrupt end with this discovery. Micah was sure that the others would take it just about as well, if not worse. This was wonderful. Any ground he'd gained would surely be gone in an instant.

When the car slowed, Micah couldn't get out fast enough. He paid the driver, quietly thanked him, then began the walk to the warehouse. As usual, there weren't any people around. So, of course, Lian started the lecture back up.

"You should've told us, Micah. You know you should've."

"It's my sister," Micah snapped. "I may not want to be a hero, but I still care about her. I still want to protect her. She's the only family I have left."

"Villains don't have the luxury of caring about people, Micah."

Micah stiffened as phantom memories of a cold voice drifted through his head. Those words, the ones that echoed in his mind in the voice of an icy villain, remnants of a by-gone era in his life, were so similar to Lian's. They had haunted him for so long. Over and over, Pardus had hammered it into his head. That his connection to Matthew and Adelaide was a weakness. That they were holding him back.

And he was right. Pardus used Micah's love for them to keep him in line. Not that Micah often stepped out of line. But when he did... Pardus was quick to punish him. And when punishing Micah didn't work, he knew all he had to do was threaten his siblings, and he'd obey. It worked every time.

Maybe villains didn't have the luxury of caring about people. It held them back, weakened them. But that wasn't going to stop Micah from caring anyway.

Micah sensed the warehouse rising ahead of them, looming. There was a mass of energy signatures all close together within. It looked like the others had gathered together for some reason.

"Micah."

"What?" Micah's voice was low, dangerous.

"You have to find a way to get rid of her."

"No." Micah stormed through the front door of the warehouse.

"It'll never be safe for us here if she's always searching for us. You know it."

"I'm not going to get rid of her. Maybe you could do something like that to your family, Lian, but I won't."

"You're a fool, Micah. If you won't deal with her—"

"Deal with who?"

Instantly, both boys went still and silent. Micah gritted his teeth. Oh, no. Not now.

"Hello, boys." Scythe chuckled. "Did you miss me?"