All For Cauldron 1 (Worm Commission) (Patreon)

I growled under my breath, glancing out of the window to the safehouse I’d brought the American cape to. More than a dozen of the KGB’s own capes were out in force, searching for both me, and the American. I didn’t care for the ‘cape name’ bullshit that the American subscribed to, but even with that I thought All American was a stupid name.

Satisfied that the KGB wouldn’t be breaking down the door, I stepped away from the window and returned to the pale and sweaty man I was being paid a fortune to rescue. Moving his hand away from the wound in his side, I lifted the bandage to inspect it.

“Fuck!” the American nearly screamed, prompting a glare from me.

The hole had grown to the size of a softball, dim motes of light slowly eating away at the edges of the wound. When he’d been hit, because he decided to take the blow to show off instead of utilizing the pillar next to him for cover, it had been the size of a mouse dropping, at most.

I could feel the American staring at me, his rage poorly masking the fear he was feeling. Putting the bandage back, I considered my options as he cursed and swore under his breath. There was no chance of getting him out of Moscow before the wound killed him, not at the rate it was spreading. The money for the job was a lost cause, but there was something I could salvage from this situation…

Nodding to myself, I reached down, putting my hand on his sweat soaked shoulder. The American said something, but I didn’t pay any attention to it, instead feeling for the glowing mote of light inside him. Upon finding it, I unhesitatingly drew it up out of him into the well of dozens of lights within myself.

He froze, his already pale face blanching even further, before he asked in a voice that was more pain than air, “What did you do to me?”

I didn’t answer, there was no point. The injury, no longer held back by his power, accelerated, and before he had the chance to draw in a breath to scream, his body was shorn in two. In less than five seconds after I took his power, he was dead, not a drop of blood or a bit of ash showing he’d even been there in the first place.

Taking in a deep breath, I let out a sigh, my mind already moving on to formulating plans that would allow me to escape Moscow unimpeded. I wasn’t getting paid for this job, but I’d gotten the power of one of the best American capes out of it. So it wasn’t a total loss.

The KGB would have all of the airports under tight surveillance, and they’d be watching the airspace surrounding the city as well. So no aerial departures for me. Any of my speed powers are too easily trackable this deep in a city. That left…

My train of thought was interrupted as a white rectangle appeared in front of me, a black woman with a clipboard and wearing a white medical coat on the other side. Hearing the sound of sharp orders being shouted in Russian from outside the building, I took the offered escape and stepped through the portal that had been opened.

As I appeared on the other side of the portal, the woman glanced at her clipboard and then turned around, the portal closing behind me. She didn’t offer any conversation, leading me down a hallway that had a white tile floor and fluorescent lighting above. It wasn’t long before we reached the end of the hall, where there was a single door, unmarked. She opened the door to reveal a meeting room, with several figures that I recognized.

My mind raced, and I had a very strong suspicion as to what was happening, even as I took the empty seat that was offered to me. The four biggest name ‘heroes’ in the American cape scene along with the black woman, a woman wearing a fedora, and a man wearing basic office worker attire. The black woman sat down next to the fedora wearer, and the office worker stood, speaking in a calm, measured tone.

“Eikon, we have much to discuss,” he said.

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I glanced up as the door to the office I used opened, admitting the green clad form of Danielle, sitting down across from me. Her costume’s blank, expressionless mask was placed in her lap as she leveled a glare at me.

After a few minutes, during which she didn’t speak and instead continued to glare, I finally broke the silence, “Despite the arrival of Scion and his ilk, men are still not mind readers. If you have an issue, I will need you to use this marvelous invention of the human race called ‘words’.”

Her scowl deepened, and I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of the whiskey I was drinking. Finally, she spoke in a tone that made it clear she was restraining herself, and only barely at that, “I just had to deal with one of your dogs in Houston.”

She didn’t say anything else, but considering the members of the Elite (the managing of which being my public role for Cauldron), it was a pretty safe bet it was Bastard Son. He was the only one who had a reason to be in Houston, after all.

I considered her words, and what I knew about her, before deciding to give her a little push, hoping the reaction I wanted would be the result, and not the alternative.

I shrugged, speaking in a deliberately nonchalant voice, and making sure to take a long draw from the glass, before saying, “So? I fail to see how that's my concern. You're the hero, afterall. He gave you the chance to hero.”

Danielle, the woman widely considered by many to be the most powerful parahuman on the planet, glared so hard I was starting to wonder if she’d develop a power to try to kill me from her glare alone.

Through grit teeth, she growled, “Keep your Elite dogs in line. That’s the entire reason you were assigned them.”

“Correction,” I immediately shot back, holding up the index finger of the hand with my whiskey glass. “I was assigned to handle the cells in the Bible Belt. Bastard Son is a Vegas problem, my main problem is the Mathers bitch.”

She stood abruptly, slamming the palms of her hands on the table, as her scowl transformed into a snarl. The wood creaked and groaned under her palms, as her power began to flare up. I braced myself, readying one of the many powers I’d grabbed over the years, but what she did caught me completely off guard.

Not when she flung my desk against the wall, I was anticipating a response like that. What caught me off guard was when she flew up in front of me and grabbed the sides of my head before pulling me into a kiss. It wasn't a tender or gentle thing either, instead, the kiss was rough, almost brutal. Our teeth clacked together, and her tongue was practically shoved down my throat.

I stood ramrod still for a moment, before my hands flew to her hips, pulling her flush against me, and returned the kiss. My tongue fought back against hers, as my grip tightened, pulling her closer, the cloth of her costume rubbing against me. Her hands went from the sides of my head, to grabbing at the back of my neck, her fingers digging into my skin.

When the kiss ended, I didn’t hesitate, instead, my mouth moved down her jaw and her neck. Her gasps and moans of pleasure only urged me on, as my hands slid down her back and to her ass. She groaned as my hands squeezed the firm, muscular flesh.

With a wordless growl, she pulled me away from her neck and kissed me again. The kiss was just as violent and needy as the first, her body grinding against mine. I groaned as she rubbed against me, and her hand started pulling at the buckle of my belt. At the same time, I dug my fingers into the fabric of her leggings, and ripped. The tearing of cloth was followed by a groan of pleasure, as I slid a hand between her thighs and cupped her cunt.

A moan escaped our lips simultaneously, before the kiss finally broke, allowing her to gasp out, “Fuck me, dammit.”

I didn't need any more urging than that, as I lifted her off the ground, her legs wrapping around my waist, and slammed her against the wall. The drywall crunched, and a picture fell, shattering the glass. As the remains of the picture frame scattered across the carpet, I grabbed at her tights, pulling them further open, before unbuckling my pants.

My cock was rock hard, and she didn't hesitate, reaching down and grabbing it. She lined it up, before slamming her hips down, impaling herself on me.

“Fuuuuuuck!” she groaned, her nails digging into my shoulders as she took me to the hilt.

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Emma swallowed thickly as the man in a suit held out his hand. She’d agreed to the three favors, and now she was going to get powers. After the alley last week, she’d spent every waking hour frantically searching the internet for ways to gain powers. That had led her here, meeting with a man whose face she couldn’t see and wearing a nicer suit than her father could afford even if he saved for a year.

Hesitantly, she reached out, putting her hand in his own. There was a warm feeling that passed through her, originating from where his skin touched hers. A light tingling spread from her hand, and the feeling was like a shot of adrenaline through her veins.

“Give it an hour to settle,” the masked man said, still holding her hand.

She shuddered as the sensation ran through her body, settling into a large pool in her, above her stomach but below her lungs. From that pool, she could feel… paths, leading through her arms and legs, coming to a stop in her palms and the bottom of her feet.

Emma’s mouth was dry, and she swallowed as he let go of her hand. He stood up, straightened his suit jacket, and turned to leave the same way he entered her bedroom.

“Wait!” Emma said, making the masked man pause. “Can you give powers to my best friend, Taylor, too?”

The man’s blank, masked face stared at Emma for a moment, before he answered, “No. Door me.”

He stepped through a rectangular pane of light that appeared, and was gone. Emma slumped in her chair, as she tried to understand why he’d said no. What was Taylor missing that he’d seen in Emma? It couldn’t be the payment, three favors was something that anyone could agree to. There had to be something, right?

That question plagued Emma as she found her feet leading her through the alleys of Brockton Bay. She tried so hard to figure out what it was about Taylor that made the man refuse to give the other girl powers. It just didn’t make any sense.

It was a good ten minutes before Emma realized she had no idea where she was going. She had been so distracted that she had left her house on autopilot. Looking around, her breath caught in her throat as she recognized where she was. She was a block away from the alley that the ABB had attacked her and her father the other night.

Swallowing, Emma walked those last steps, coming to a stop in the mouth of the alley, where she’d been threatened with a knife, where she had almost lost her life.

Her legs were weak, and she had to lean on the wall for support as the memories assaulted her. Emma could still see the knife, held by an asian girl, barely older than her, threatening to cut off Emma’s hair and then move onto her ears and nose.

Pressing against the wall, Emma forced herself to her feet, taking one shaky step after another. Finally, she stood in the exact spot she had stood a few days earlier, when she was scared and had felt so alone.

That was when she met Sophia, who made everything so clear…