Blindside Read Free Page B

call me Doc. You want another?” Under the low drawn hat, Williams tilted his chin in the direction of Mac’s emptied shot glass.
    “No thanks.” He hadn’t drunk enough to drown pride and the arrogant bitch refused to let him flee from the man who ran him out of town.
    “I’m here to offer you a job.”
    “My body fluids go for millions.” Sometimes he considered dealing with fed and private science types when the aches of busted joints kept him awake till morning.
    “I’m offering you a chance to come back. Be a hero. Do something right for once.” Williams flicked up two fingers to signal for another round. “You got my city crazed with vigilantes. I got them everywhere, running around in idiotic capes and tights. Kittyway, Invince. Some nerd rigged up a coat with cameras so people could see through him. Some of them even do some good. And then I get the real deal.” That last part barely carried over the splash of whiskey.
    Mac lifted his glass to his lips, letting the taste warm up his gut on the way down. “Super powers?”
    “Same stats as you but doesn’t fly. Power used as some sort of shield. The Night Rook—that’s what the papers call him. A friend of yours?”
    “No one I know.” Whiskey turned ashen in Mac’s mouth.
    “Your kind can transfer power to each other. I’d figured you’d be interested, considering this one has your stats.”
    Mac kept his face stone cold, easy enough to do when his body went frigid. “I thought your kind dealt with facts.”
    A sharp, predatory smile. “You want facts? Five years ago, the Hero of New York is said to have lost his powers. About the same time, a man broke through the vault of Central Bank. Ripped it apart, by all accounts. Then there was a man in Russia who could fly after a rescue by Red Square. Twenty years ago, your old man couldn’t shield himself from gunfire.”
    Glass shattered in Mac’s hand.
    “Guess you weren’t lying about the serum.” With a raised eyebrow, Williams shoved a stack of napkins at the nearest drop of blood.
    Shards of memories nullified the jagged cuts over his fingers. “My father—”
    “Died saving your ass. I looked it up.” A faint shrug, as if the act meant nothing. “Maybe you did something similar before you left San Mike. Maybe you thought you made a hero, left a legacy.”
    “I didn’t.” The words ripped out of him, sharp like the edges of the broken glass. He crumpled up napkins to press against the cuts, to stall for time and keep something in his fingers.
    Not possible .
    “I got a guy who has your stats, reports dating back for about a year.” Williams slammed his glass hard on the wood imitation counter. His drink, a vile-smelling vodka, sloshed cheerful and clear over the rim. “He’s beating up dealers, messing up the supply chain. I got badasses crying like kids with broken pinkies.”
    “You’re saying that’s bad thing?”
    “Assault is still assault. He’s skimming their profits.”
    “Your problem. Not mine.” Except Mac couldn’t shake the ugly rolling in his gut that had nothing to do with the lost fight or the thin whiskey.
    “He has your powers.” Damning quiet words followed by a knowing smile. Bastard no doubt thought he finally got through. “Maybe you got a cousin, or maybe you transferred you powers to someone who’s enjoying them too much. Either way, this mess is on you.”
    Just walk away . “You got a bead for who he is?”
    Those knowing eyes studied his face. “Built like a linebacker and wears a black cape. Know someone with a flair for dramatics?”
    Relief coursed through his veins. Williams hadn’t mention blindness. Had it been Lana, the Rook would’ve been dubbed the Vampire, and people would swear any sign of daylight set fire to “his” cape.
    But he couldn’t deny his weakened state during the fire. The way Lana had bounced from the docks, safe from the fire but bleeding from the impact. He’d thought her flight over the flames had been