Lionel Irving was used to working with Natalie Lewis, he was used to working with Ivan Rollibard, even with Frederick Wilson. He wasn’t used to working with a fledgling hero team he’d never met before. This was a job for Ivan, who could order them around if necessary and get an immediate response. Not for Lionel, who liked the loose way he and Natalie worked together.
Now he was in costume, standing in front of Cecily Aiden, Aislinn Connors, and Jack Woodworth. He didn’t know their names, in costume or otherwise, but that wasn’t much of a concern.
“Okay, so Glacier couldn’t have gotten far, if his name is any indication.” Sure, he wasn’t supposed to be joking with this team, being efficient and all, but he couldn’t help it. The Caucasian girl rolled her eyes.
The African-American woman seemed to be in a bit of a trance, before her eyes opened particularly wide. “We can beat him to the subway if we hurry.”
“’Kay, Tough Guy, can you run faster than us?” Lionel asked.
“Probably,” he replied.
“Then get going,” Lionel ordered. “Keep him distracted while we follow you.” Jack took off, hopefully in the right direction.
“Shapeshifter, you and I are going to go at Glacier from another angle,” he added to Cecily. Looking at her, he realised she wasn’t looking at his face, but a few inches below his chin. And her eyes… The blind one?
“Will you be able to follow me?” he asked carefully.
“Of course I will! I have ears, don’t I?” The blind gifted shouted back.
“Sorry,” Lionel said, pulling back in surprise. “And Seer-girl, you need to make sure he doesn’t escape. Let’s move!” He took off in the same direction as Jack, only at a slightly different angle. The shape shifter was close behind in a wolf form, the animal’s keen ears and sense of smell keeping her in the right direction. The seer took off in a slightly different direction, anticipating Glacier’s escape route.
Jack had tried to take a swing at Glacier while his back was turned, enough to knock the villain out, but slipped on the slick coating of ice on the sidewalk. His weight was thrown off-centre and he nearly fell to the ground. Glacier turned around and laughed his almost-cackle with glee.
“Not very bright at all,” he decided. The ice on the ground was climbing up Jack’s legs, much to his surprise and dismay. Jack summoned some of his strength and shattered the ice by slamming his leg up. He clipped the villain, but only just barely. Glacier smirked and glided away on the ice, both used to the slippery surface and controlling the subtleties of the ice just enough to glide easily. A fireball just barely missed his foot and melted the ice.
“You’re not too sharp yourself,” Lionel said playfully.
“Matches? I was wondering if that was you,” Glacier replied with a smirk. He reformed the ice easily.
“Matches?” Cecily asked incredulously, shifting out of her wolf form. She needed to get a grasp of what was happening.
“I’m Torch! What’s with everyone calling me Matches?” Lionel demanded angrily.
“Dea started it when you went on vacation,” Jack said, rushing towards Glacier and taking another swing. Glacier remained unscathed but shaken. He slipped away.
“Dea? Why is it always her?” Lionel asked, throwing a flaming punch at the wall of ice the villain had thrown upwards.
“She’s your partner,” Cecily reminded him, turning into a wolf again and following the sounds of Glacier’s skating.
“You’d think she’d have the manners to give me a tough-sounding nickname,” Lionel grumbled, chasing after the retreating villain with his fists alight. Jack was quick to help Cecily herd Glacier away from an alleyway, where he could easily escape. The wolf took a, if you’ll excuse the pun, blind dive towards Glacier and nipped at his lower leg. She didn’t bite down, but it did incapacitate the cryokine as she had intended.
Worried, Glacier blasted them all in a coating of ice. While Lionel’s high body temperature kept him from freezing and losing his movement, the ice held him back and completely caught up Cecily and Jack. Lionel breathed in slowly and held the breath. Heat began to radiate from his person, helping Cecily and Jack get rid of the coating of ice.
Glacier kept running, hoping to escape without any more trouble. However, a foot stuck out at exactly the wrong time and tripped him up. An African-American woman appeared from behind the building corner.
“Freeze,” she said playfully. Jack regained his ability to move with relative agility and gripped Glacier’s collar, holding him still. Then a shadow came down. It was Anima, wearing a mask similar to those of the party-goers.
“Watch out!” Lionel warned, but it was too late. A wave of intense energy came from the new villain’s body, pushing back the four heroes. When they recovered both were gone.

“What do you think, pet?” a man asked Eric Fawkes brightly. Elliot Whitman was lying in Marie-Giselle’s bed, in her apartment, without her knowledge. But he really couldn’t be blamed for that. He’d been placed there by William Stafford, better known as the villain Anima. Eric was observing him, particularly the set of punctures down one leg.
“I think I can heal him,” Eric replied timidly.
“No, about his abilities. Do you think dear Elliot would be useful to us?” the man sprawled himself over Eric’s shoulders.
“I don’t know. He could be like Marie-Giselle, but he could also be like Robert. We just don’t know enough.” He shivered as the man’s hands draped down and brushed his chest. It was uncomfortable being a plaything, a pet.
“And then there’s those heroes… The ones with Matches. What do you think?” His hands were playing with the bottom of Eric’s close-fitting shirt now.
“They pose a threat,” the timid man decided. “They could be incredibly powerful if they do heroing for real.”
“But right now they’re just playing.”
“More or less.” Another shiver as the bottom of his shirt went upwards. The man’s mouth lingered next to Eric’s ear.
“Heal him,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling him uncomfortably. He pulled away and inwardly Eric let a relieved sigh free. “William, you’re going to be the fuel.” The man said.
“Y-Yes, Peter,” William said obediently, going from a corner of the room to the bedside. The man reluctantly released his grip on Eric, taking one last pleasure in running his finger from belt to navel and letting his hot breath linger on the smaller one’s neck.
Hesitantly, Eric reached out and placed his left hand on William’s arm. Almost immediately the villain winced. Then Eric pressed his right hand on Elliot’s face, not particularly concerned about jabbing his eyes or blocking his breathing. The punctures on the cryokine’s leg began to mend as William began to sway. His eyes were twitching, trying to retreat into his skull. He had to stay conscious, though.
“That’s enough, pet,” the man finally ordered when there was nothing but pink, slightly raw flesh where bleeding holes had been. William’s arm was released and he fell to his knees.
“William, dismissed,” the man said decisively. The villain known as Anima couldn’t get away fast enough. However, Eric Fawkes remained where he was, and Peter returned to his shoulders.
“Now, pet…” he cooed. His hands began their disquieting journey again.

Marie-Giselle West was greeted by soft moans and an exhausted William Stafford outside her door.
“Stay in my room for now,” he said, taking her support and limping to his own apartment.
“How bad is Peter being today?” she asked worriedly.
“He’s pretty bad,” William said, wincing. “He was all over Eric.”

Lionel Irving was greeted outside the masquerade party by his dear girlfriend Erin Kirkland.
“Took me a while?” he asked playfully.
“More than fifteen minutes. I told the others you felt sick and we were going home.” She reached around her boyfriend’s neck and leaned against him. He was quick to catch her drift.
“Oh God, I love you,”  he sighed, putting one arm around her waist and making their way to the car. “Thanks for covering for me.”
“Did you catch Glacier at least?” Erin asked, taking the driver’s wheel. She’d had less to drink than Lionel and was a much safer driver to begin with.
“Anima rescued him. Probably under the Puppeteer’s orders.” He turned to her. “I don’t like this. He’s getting more and more villains and deities on his side.”
Erin reached out and took Lionel’s hand. “It’s fine,” she assured. Lionel leaned back into the seat.
“I know,” he said. “But I can’t help but be worried. Things are getting worse, after all.”