The Queen of Disks (Villainess Book 5) Read online

  VILLAINESS #5:

  THE QUEEN OF DISKS

  by

  Alana Melos

  The Queen of Disks

  Book 5 of the Villainess Series

  Copyright 2017 © Alana Melos

  Model Cover Photo © cokacoka @ depositphotos

  All other artwork, graphic cover design, logo art, and graphic text © Jotham “Pipes” Talbot

  Published: November 23rd, 2017

  Publisher: Alana Melos

  The right of Alana Melos to be identified as the author of this Work is asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Characters and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously. All characters are at least 18 years old. All sexual acts portrayed in this work of fiction are consensual.

  Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/cfQK35

  Author's email: [email protected]

  Author's Twitter: @Alana_Melos

  Contents:

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Author's Notes

  Excerpt from The Devil and Delilah

  Links to Other Works

  My first, and probably only, dedication:

  I want to extend a big ass thank you to first, the other

  independent authors on this crazy ride with me, first

  and foremost Bryce, but also Reed, Patrick, Yolanda,

  JC, and so many more.

  I also wish to thank my biggest supporter, K., whose

  cheering had helped me to write even when I don't feel

  like it just to get her to stop asking, "Is it done yet?"

  Lastly, also to my husband J., without whom I

  probably would never have attempted this.

  I love all of you guys.

  Prologue

  When I landed in Pacifica a decade ago, I was sixteen and inexperienced. Intellectually, I knew all the tricks. I knew people could be cruel and criminal. I understood you couldn’t really trust anyone, that everyone was only out for themselves. Knowing things because you were taught about them is one thing. Experiencing them firsthand is quite another.

  After ditching my dad’s boat on one of the Hawaiian islands, I hitched a ride on a cargo plane, using my telepathy to make myself invisible to the crew. It wasn’t comfortable. By the time I landed in Los Angeles, I was ecstatic to be on the ground. The airport was huge. I’d never seen so many people in one place before… and that was just the airport! Try to imagine me, Capricious Whim the super villain at sixteen all wide-eyed and gawking. Big, beautiful blue eyes open and looking around at the crowds, blond hair back in a ponytail which made me look younger than I was, and rough clothing, patched and lowkey, like I was trying to avoid being detected. I must have appeared to be the perfect mark.

  I’m a metahuman. Even at that tender age, I was pretty strong, but again… inexperienced. It wasn’t just the number of people, but all their thoughts and feelings flowing around me. The sensations made me gawk and stumble around. Their thoughts kept pressing on me, beating down on my shields so I had to concentrate on them. Hence, I didn’t pay much attention to my surroundings. I felt the pickpocket lift my wallet after bumping into me, but reacted too slow to catch him with my hand. I couldn't fly there. I didn’t know if dad was going to be pissed I stole his boat or not, so I didn’t want to draw attention. The thief lost himself in the crowd, leaving me fuming at the curb.

  “Lost, baby?” a voice asked from my side. When I turned, I saw a handsome teen, Hispanic in ancestry, long and lean of body. He flashed a white smile. “I saw that asshole lift your wallet, but he was too fast.”

  “I’m not lost,” I said, biting my lip. His thick black hair was styled in kind of a pompadour, and he wore a leather jacket, giving him the impression of a thug from the nineteen fifties. A good looking thug.

  “Everyone’s lost in the City of Angels,” he said with a laugh. “Let me ask you this then: do you need a ride?”

  I did, and I took it. I held on to him tight on the back of his motorcycle, my long ponytail whipping behind me as we rode. It tangled my hair beyond all hope, but the ride itself had felt like I was flying.

  Since I didn’t know where I was going, I let Matías choose the destination. He didn’t know it, but that was the decision which led to his untimely and too quick death. When he pulled into a slum neighborhood in front of a decrepit apartment building, I knew where this was going. My life might have been sheltered and posh, but my education wasn’t traditional. My father had taught me the ways of thugs and petty crooks; it was the only life he’d ever known. My mother had made sure to tell me that most people would to try to use me--in whatever capacity--and to always read their intentions with my telepathy. He led me upstairs with a broad smile, amidst jeers and catcalls from his fellow gang members. Maybe he wasn’t going to try to turn me into a prostitute and maybe he was. Either way, he wanted a taste of me first. I kept quiet, sorting through the thoughts in his head, feeling out the emotions. I had to take my time to figure them out. I didn’t know what lust was, or what the dark undertone to the bright red ribbon meant. And, he was handsome. I hadn’t dated. I hadn’t met many boys at all. Although some would laugh at it now, I hadn’t been kissed before. More than anything, I was curious.

  His nefarious intentions aside, I’d decided he’d serve well enough for a first kiss. It tasted like alcohol, something strong and sour. He was forceful, and I let him, still figuring out if I liked it or not. There was something… something about that first kiss even though it was hard, unskilled, and tasted bad. It only turned sweet when I rammed a knife made from my teke into his gut and disemboweled him. When he tried to pull away, I pulled him closer, taking control. The pain flared in his head, a different kind of red overtaking his crimson lust. As I read the emotions, they spilled into me and the world exploded with color. It was as if I’d been sleeping my whole life, dreaming of what the real world would be like, and then finding out the dream was only a pale copy. It awoke a hunger in me to feel things, deeply.

  I’ve spent the rest of my adult life trying to feed that hunger, to sate that lust.

  When I let him drop at my feet and watched his threads fade and die, I realized something. I’d changed. It wasn’t just my sadistic tendencies which had awoken, nor my habit of drinking deep from people’s minds to fuel myself. In that moment, I knew that you could only react so much. At some point, you had to stop and take control or give it up forever. I wouldn’t be anyone’s slave, and while I might play at being submissive, it never meant that I was.

  It was far better to act rather than react. That’s a mantra I try to live up to, every day. Circumstances might sometimes force me into a reactive role, but I’d always try to turn that to my advantage, to make a decision and stick with it. To choose to act rather than let others act upon me.

  That
gang--I still don’t know what their name was to this day--died that night, but their money and drugs helped to fill my first real bankroll. It only took a half a day to find someone to buy the designer drugs I stole from them, and then I was on my way out of Los Angeles. I sought out my purpose, rather than just running away.

  Chapter One

  A lot of people think I listen to metal or techno. I don’t really have a musical preference, truth be told. I don’t have a musical dislike either. It’s just there. However, there was one genre of music I listened to on a regular basis, or at least when I knew I was going into a fight for a job. Some of the jobs I got were simple kills. Others were robberies. Every once in awhile, some jobs were big enough that white hats would intervene. I liked those missions. The heroes pulled punches, trying not to kill at least for the most part. We didn’t. These sorts of jobs tended to be no-holds-barred brawls. For this mission, I was repaying a favor for Jeneva. Unfortunately, Titan had upped their defense by quite a bit since the last time I broke in, so stealth was out. Hence, brawl time was incoming.

  I listened to music during big fights, barely audible over the sounds of the comlink and battle. My mother had the weirdest preferences for music, choosing anything which appealed to her, but overall preferring strange nineteen eighties alternative bands like They Might Be Giants or Talking Heads. My father listened to oldies… like real oldies, like the Rat Pack. Me? I listened to disco.

  Now, before you judge me on my musical taste, I didn’t listen to them for the lyrics. It helped they were catchy and easy to remember, but it was the beats and rhythm of the songs of that era which fit perfectly into my sword play. It wasn’t too fast, nor too slow. They were peppy numbers which pumped you up without making you angry. And, lastly, they sounded nice. My preferred group was ABBA. I finished messing with my music, setting it to shuffle at the touch of a button, then turned to the group I’d assembled.

  It had been months after Pangea, and finally spring had taken hold of Imperial City. The snow partially melted, and green had sprung forth from some of the city’s trees. I spent my time between then and now working hard using my newly restored rep. It wasn’t just a matter of bills--though they were plentiful as always--but I had to bankroll this incursion. I’d gone and scouted out Titan beforehand. They had really stepped up their security after being broken into not once, but twice in a single week. Even though I joked about it, the fallout from Harry’s job really was never ending.

  With beefed up security, I needed information, which wasn’t cheap. After paying through the nose for the data, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sneak in like I did before. All the main doors and elevators were now genecoded with the best money could buy. That meant the locks also read the subject’s vitals, so if they were under duress, the door wouldn’t open. Even if I was able to use my telepathy to artificially calm them--which I wasn’t able to at the moment--every person who worked for them were given psi bockers at the gate when they checked in. In addition, the security checkpoints to enter the building had added a brainwave scan to detect mental tinkering. If anything abnormal was detected, they called one of the psychics they had on retainer to check them out. The place was already built like a crazy fortress, and even though my teke was strong, I wasn’t strong enough to just blast through every single obstacle.

  The new precautions meant I had to hire out, which meant more money. I might be able to recoup some of those losses by theft on the inside, but money making wasn’t the main purpose. It was to get the nanotech for Jeneva and get out. Anything else was a bonus.

  I stood on top of a building near Titan Industries going over the last of the plan with my hirees… and my pack. To my right, Adira stood, her light mocha skin glowing with power. She’d drank herself as full as possible in preparation for the job. She had braided her dark hair in a braid similar to mine, though wild curls kept trying to escape. Her normally brown eyes glowed faintly dark red, showing her vampiric side. She looked ready to shed blood, dressed all in black with a curved knife at her side. On the other hip, she had a gun snug in its holster. She didn’t need the knife or the gun, but it was always smart to have a backup weapon. I’d finally convinced her of that. When she looked at me and smiled, her lips parted to show her uneven teeth. She raised her brows and nodded her encouragement. With that look, I felt that I was getting ahold of this leading thing. It helped that Mauler stood on the other side of me, his big green presence radiating intimidation.

  The werewolf stood on two feet, much like the fantasy werewolves of the movies rather than those of legends which simply transformed into wolves. Even among his kind, he was unique as he wasn’t just a human or an animal anymore, but part plant as well. His black and green fur hid vines which had grown into his flesh, winding in and out of him. They spiraled around his arms and legs, and a leaf grew from the tip of one of his wolf ears. My Wolf was fearsome as he stood there with his arms crossed even though he didn’t say a single word. He barely looked at me, and bared his long, sharp teeth in a silent snarl if anyone he didn’t like got too close.

  The others I had gathered here weren’t as impressive as the vampire and the werewolf, but they were all powerful in their way. The most powerful of which was Lethal, who’d grudgingly agreed to play look out and sniper, for double his normal rate. Didn’t matter if the last deal we’d had ended with his wanted record being purged; he was still sore about being made to go into the heart of the mutant forest which stood on the edge of the City. His faded military fatigues were rumpled and unwashed, and his spiked brown hair was held back with a red bandana. I don’t think he spiked it on purpose; I think it was just a side effect of him running his hand through it so often. The bandana looked as if it were tied too tightly around his head as his exposed, lifted brow gave him a perpetually startled expression. He stood next to the Nacht Sirene and hit on her without mercy. By that, I mean he gave her every single horrible pick up line that was ever invented, and then invented a few more. The perky blonde tried to be nice, but it was obvious the attention made her uncomfortable. Lethal had good taste, though. She was attractive in that pixie-like way with large blue-green eyes, a cupid’s bow mouth, and a petite nose. She wore her work uniform which was an actual uniform from Axis Earth. She’d been one of the Reich before defecting, and didn’t get rid of her outfit from there since it was enchanted against pretty much all damage. She had a gas mask which hung around her neck, and green lensed goggles on her hat band, ready to be raised or lowered the instant she went into battle.

  In addition to my regular crew, I’d hired on a couple of heavy hitters. The pair had named themselves from William Blake’s poem The Tyger, though it was way more literal than the poet had intended. The first, Burning Tiger, was probably the wet dream of all furry ladies out there. Tall--though not as tall as Mauler--muscled, and furred, this cat man reminded me of Panthro from the Thundercats, except his fur was fire engine red instead of purple. He had a bit more hair on the top of his head, though it was shorn pretty short. He wore all black (I know, I know, how predictable), but not that much of it. He simply had a tank top and shorts on, with no shoes. His feet were sort of like a cat’s, but not. The toes were shorter and stubbier with the nails curving around the top, like a cat’s claws would if fully extended all the time. His hands were the same weird combination of paw and hand as well, but at least he had opposable thumbs so he could manipulate things. I hadn’t seen him with his powers on yet, but he’d come highly recommended as someone who could both dish out and take some damage.

  The second one had chosen the name Fearful Symmetry, and was encased in power armor. I had no idea what she looked like. The armor stood at about my height, and looked impressive, if fragile. It wasn’t bulky like most power armors I’d seen, but smooth and rounded, delicate almost, like it had stepped out of a Japanese anime. It was patterned in blue and white, which was a welcome change from the black and red all over. Us villains loved our black and red. She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, wa
iting.

  Lastly, Jeneva had decided to come with us. She went by the callsign ‘Next Jenna’ and she looked it. Next generation, I mean. Her skin wasn’t a normal color, but light grey. Her eyes glowed blue and her hair neon pink. I don’t think she wore clothing. I wasn’t sure, but it appeared to me that any “clothing” she had was simply a part of her. One of the most advanced cyborgs I’d ever seen, I wondered how much of her was human… or if she was simply a ‘bot, through and through. It was because of the deal I made to her that we were all here, and she wanted to see it through to the end.

  Other than the nanotech we were here to steal, people were free to raid anything they wanted in addition to the substantial cash payment I’d given them. I think Fearful was here more for the tech than the payout, but no thief was above grabbing a little extra in addition to the payment.

  “Everyone clear on the plan?” I asked, thumbing my nail against my phone absently. When I got an acknowledgment from everyone--Siren had to elbow Lethal a few times before he grunted in my general direction--I nodded towards the building. “Ramblers, let’s get ramblin’.”

  Wolf and Fearful were the first two to go. Titan Industries was laid out sort of in a suburb, with a wide sprawling complex. The main building was what we were after. It held an underground parking lot and a really underground lab, several layers down. The fence had been improved upon since I was here, and was patrolled regularly by guards and autonomous drones. Since sneaking was off the table, we were gonna start this party off with a bang. As Wolf bounded down, Fearful followed him, slowly sinking to the ground and floating after him in a lackadaisical way. The rest of us followed after a thirty count, with the exception of Lethal, who got into his sniper position.

  Alarms sounded before they even reached the fence. Still halfway in the street by the complex, Wolf raised his arms to the sky as Fearful pointed at the fence with a finger. The metal buckled under its own colossal weight in an instant, her powers increasing the gravitational pull until it collapsed. The heavy metal dropped with a loud screech and a bang. At the same time, plants erupted from the concrete and I shuddered knowing Wolf was asking Pangea to help him hold our escape open. That psychic mutant plant was everywhere. People didn’t want to acknowledge it, but it was. Or maybe he was just asking regular plants to do it. I wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to know.