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Siren of the Shadows - Finale [Femme Fatale TG]
🕑 Added 2024-10-08 23:58:37 +0000 UTCTier Reward for Eb18
I leaned back in the cold, steel chair, the cuffs biting into my wrists just enough to remind me I was no longer in control. Not yet, at least. The dim light flickered above me, casting a weak glow over the shabby interrogation room. It smelled of sweat, fear, and desperation. The police had left me alone for now, probably trying to make me feel forgotten and desperate, but I wasn't about to let them get to me.
I had bigger problems, like why my mask wouldn’t come off. I couldn’t change back and it had cost me my freedom. At least temporarily. The idea that I wouldn't escape was too awful to consider. Right now, I needed to focus on getting out of here, then I could sort out the mask.
I crossed my legs, letting my leather boots squeak softly against the floor. The guard standing at the door watched me closely, his eyes travelling over me in a way that almost made me laugh. I could read him like a book—young, inexperienced, easily swayed by a pretty face and a soft touch. His gaze lingered on my lips when he’d led me in here. He would be the perfect target.
“It’s awfully chilly in here, don’t you think?” I purred as I leaned forward just enough to show off my cleavage pressing against my bodysuit, revealing a little more skin, the curve of my collarbone catching the faint light. Adam's apple bobbed.
He shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat.
“I’ll ask if we can turn the heat up when the detective gets back, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” I chuckled, trailing my gaze over him. “That makes me sound old. You can call me Fox. No need to be so formal.”
He didn’t answer, but his eyes flicked up to mine, then my lips and back to the wall ahead. I tilted my head, letting my hair fall to one side, my lips curling into a smile that I knew melted hearts.
"How long have you been working here?" I asked in my most velvety voice. "You look far too young to be stuck in a place like this."
“...I shouldn't be talking to you.”
“Oh, come now, I’m just being friendly. Making a bit of idle conversation will hardly break any rules now, is it? So answer the question.”
He swallowed, taking a hesitant step closer.
“Uh, a few months,” he muttered. “It's... it’s a good job.”
“A few months, so you’re fresh out of the academy.” I uncrossed my legs slowly, watching his eyes follow the motion. “That’s why you get stuck with guard duty?”
The guard shifted again, closer this time, his eyes darting to the door. The dim lighting played tricks with the shadows, and I could almost feel him weighing the risk. Another smile, and I knew he’d crumble.
“You could come a little closer, you know. I won’t bite." I tilted my head, widening my eyes with just the right amount of vulnerability. "We could talk. I bet you're tired of standing there all alone.”
He took another step, then another. His gaze flickered to my lips, and I could see the thoughts forming in his head, the fantasies I had planted taking root. He was mine. I’d charm him, grab those keys on his belt, and vanish into the night. All I needed was to get these cuffs off and dart out a window…
Just as his fingers brushed the metal, the door swung open. The Spectre. Damn it. The guard stumbled back, almost dropping the keys. Embarrassed, His face flushed, but I wasn’t looking at him anymore. My attention was on the vigilante; anger bubbled in my veins. The Spectre’s voice was low, cutting through the room like a blade.
“Leave us.”
The officer gave me a nervous glance and hurried out of the room, the door closing softly behind him. I let out a frustrated sigh, slumping back in my chair, my carefully constructed charm dissolving into anger.
“You really know how to ruin a girl’s night, don’t you?”
He didn’t respond at first; he just stood there, watching me with those cold, unreadable eyes. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, not like everybody else. I thought I did, but I no longer trusted my instincts after he played me for a fool just a few hours ago.
“I didn't intend for you to get caught.” The Spectre said after a moment. “I can help you, but…you must remove the mask. And tell people who you are.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Fox, I am trying to help you.”
“I’ve had enough of your help, thanks, but no thanks.”
“Fox…”
“Don’t talk to me like you’re sad.” I snapped. “What happened between us on the roof meant nothing! Don’t pretend otherwise. Now, that bastard will destroy that necklace, and all those rich phonies will cheer. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
I waited for the self-righteous speech, the bragging, and even the disappointment. But instead, He simply sighed before turning and walking away. If I didn't know better, I’d suspect he really did feel guilty. I waited for an interrogator to come in, but they never did. I knew the police probably wanted me to sweat, but this was getting ridiculous. I was actually starting to get bored.
My hands went to the mask again, and I realised something; I’d been stressed about getting caught, about the fate of that necklace, even the prospect of going to jail…but the fact that I might be forever stuck as a woman hadn't occurred to me. Rather, it seemed so insignificant it hadn't crossed my mind. That…wasn’t normal, right? Men who faced a future as the opposite gender tended to at least be a bit concerned.
My hands traced the edge of the mask. Was it a mask, really? I’d been The Fox, or Sylvia, more than I had been my old self for months now. At some point, I crossed over. This body was my real self.
“Is that why…?” I whispered to myself.
The door finally opened, and a pissed off looking detective walked in.
“You’re…free to go. Your lawyer is waiting.”
I blinked in surprise.
“What?”
“You heard me not get going before I take the law into my own hands.”
I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I got to my feet and shot the detective a wink before heading down the corridor. A man was waiting in an expensive business suit. He waved me outside into a waiting limousine without so much as a word. I slid into the back seat, ready to woo whoever had bailed me out, but instead, my jaw dropped.
“Remington?”
“So you do know me.” he smiled. “That’s good.”
“Wha-how?”
“You have no idea how expensive it is to hire enough lawyers to get you out on bail without even having a name to use.”
“A name…wait…Spectre?”
“The one and only.” He replied, voice dropping an octave.
Well…who could have seen that coming?
“I think I have earned the honour of seeing your face now.” He said after a moment.
I bit my lip and raised my hands to the mask; something felt different this time. I gripped the edges and slowly lowered it away from my face, but I didn't change back into a man this time. My body shifted slightly, my hair darkened to a deeper shade of red, and my clothes went from the skintight bodysuit to a normal set of black pants, heels and blouse, but I stayed a woman. I wasn’t surprised; there wasn't even a part of me that was disappointed, and that spoke louder than anything. Remington’s mouth parted slightly, and his eyes narrowed.
“...Sylvia?”
“The one and only.”
“Hey! That was my line.”
“I said it better.”
Despite the circumstances, he snorted in laughter.
“What a pair we make.”
Secretly, I agreed, but after the hell he’d put me through tonight, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing.
“I meant what I said tonight, Fox.” Remington continued. “I had no idea they were going to spring the trap like that. The Vault was my idea, and I had originally planned to use it to catch you. But I had no idea they would be waiting for you tonight.”
I believed him, but I didn’t want to. There was a strange flutter in my stomach; sleeping with him had been different. Every other person I’d seduced had been a power play. I’d gotten off on having them curled around my little finger, but with Remington, something else was at play. I’d lost myself in the moment; despite everything…I’d fallen for the Shrouded Spectre, my rival and enemy. God, what a mess.
“Fox, uh, Sylvia, is that your real name?”
I paused momentarily, soul searching before looking him in the eye and saying truthfully:
“Yes, Sylvia is my real name.”
“Sylvia, I know deep down, you are motivated by injustice, just like I am. If you promise to stop your petty theft, I know you could become a hero, too. Work to correct the wrongs in this city from the shadows, like I do.”
He reached across the plush leather seat and grasped my hand firmly.
“You’re not a bad person.” He said, and he said it with such conviction I couldn’t help but blush. I’d never felt so seen before, so understood. “You stole because you felt you’d been wronged. I don’t know what the wrong was, but I know that you didn’t start this endeavour with selfish intentions. I have fought many criminals over the years, and after all this time, I’d stopped believing in second chances or that people can change. Until I met you, Sylvia. Right from the start, there was something about you that was different. Please, prove me right. Prove to me that there is still good in this world, even within people who break the law.”
…What was I supposed to say to that!? This man was pouring his heart out to me in the back of his car and…it was sort of endearing. I tried to stop my heart from swelling as I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but earnestness. Who would have thought that behind that dark, scowling mask, Remington was such a softy? A cheesy one at that.
“You’re…a lot. You know that.” I giggled. “I want to say you’re wrong but…you’re not, really. But it’s a bit rich coming from somebody who makes fun of sick kids.”
“What?”
“I saw you, going over to join that asshole at the charity auction. All smiles.”
Remington made a face so disgusted I instantly knew I’d missed something.
“I went over to give that sick man a piece of my mind. To joke about such things and throw around his wealth…it’s disgusting. That is the sort of person who is irredeemable in my eyes.”
“Oh…and I’m not?”
“No, I believe you can use that mask of yours for good. I don’t know how it works, but it’s clearly powerful. I know that deep down, you want to use it to right wrongs, not line your own pockets.”
It was a ludicrous idea. The smart thing to do would be to go along with it, then flee into the night and start up somewhere new—somewhere without a caped crusader to ruin my nighttime activities. That was my plan, but even as I put it into motion, I felt guilt starting to creep in.
“Alright, I can try.” He breathed. “Before I make a daring escape…is your name tied to those lawyers who bailed me out? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Remington shook his head.
“Not at all, I couldn’t risk somebody making the connection between me and my alter ego, I used a proxy.”
“Good.” I smiled. “I’ll…meet you on the museum rooftop tomorrow. For my new start?”
Remington squeezed my hand tightly in his own and fixed me with a hard stare.
“Please, Sylvia. Don’t make me regret giving you this chance.”
I looked into those eyes again and saw so many things: hope, admiration, suspicion…most of all, affection. I couldn’t explain how, but somehow I knew that if I didn’t show up on that rooftop tomorrow, I’d do more than just break Remington’s heart, I might just break his faith in people as a whole.
“I won’t,” I whispered. The words came out so earnestly that I couldn’t even tell if I was lying anymore. The car stopped at a red light, and Remington let go. I let my fingers linger for just a moment longer than necessary before opening the door and running off into the night.
The cold wind was in my hair, and a grin spread across my face as I tasted freedom.
~
I wasted no time packing my bags. I gathered my treasures, converted my hidden accounts and got ready to flee. The whole time, though, my guts kept twisting. I kept seeing Remington’s face, The Spectre’s face. Both of them had been kind to me, more so Remington than Spectre, but still.
I looked down at the mask sitting atop my prepared bag. It still hadn't turned me back into a man. I’d experimented a few times since I escaped last night, but nothing had worked. I could will it to change my appearance as a woman, but I never became a man again.
I tried to make it bother me, but it simply didn’t. I just had to face facts: I was a woman permanently now, and…that was okay. I’d been playing this part for so long that I’d stopped pretending at some point. Sylvia, the femme fatale and cat burglar, became my true self.
I looked out the window at the stars; the sun had set, and they were only just coming out. The Spectre would be waiting for me soon. I’d planned on disappearing, that would be the smart thing to do…but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I placed the now familiar mask over my eyes. I felt my body shift, my build becoming slightly more athletic, my red hair curly and blonde, and my suit now a stylish grey body suit complete with combat boots, a cape and utility belt. I checked myself out in the mirror and snorted; I matched The Shrouded Spectre now. It seemed my subconscious had no problem deciding what I truly wanted.
When I reached the rooftop, Spectre, Remington, was already there. I watched as some of the tension left his shoulders and smiled; he had been worried I wouldn’t show.
“You came.” He smiled.
“I did.”
There was silence for a moment before I shrugged.
“Now what?”
“Now we see if you’re up to the task of defending the city from the ne’er-do-wells you used to be a part of.”
I couldn’t help but snort.
“I’m sorry, ne'er-do-wells? You should like a radio show from the forties.”
Spectre didn’t dignify that with a response. He simply looked me up and down.
“Your costume has changed. Your hair, too.”
“The mask has its perks.” I tapped it playfully. “Like what you see.”
“That’s not relevant.”
“That’s a yes.”
“...Come on.”
I giggled in delight as we swung across the city. It was a quiet night, a few muggings, one house break-in. It was so different to my normal faire, but…it did feel nice. I flicked my hair and seductively distracted criminals as Remington came up behind and I found we worked well together as a team. Remington was right. I didn't feel the need to steal anything, I had plenty of money from my previous heists, which is how we found ourselves back on that roof at sunrise, exhausted but fulfilled after a night of work.
“How exactly does that mask of yours work?” Remington asked eventually. I just shrugged.
“No idea. Sometimes, it responds to my thoughts. Sometimes it doesn’t.”
“Fascinating. I must research it when I return to my sanctum.”
“Your sanc-oh my god, Remington, you’re such a nerd.”
“Do not use my real name while we’re in costume! The sanctity of our identities is…alright, I heard it that time.”
I threw back my head and laughed, only to feel a warm glove cup my cheek. Remington held my face and slowly brought it toward his own till our lips touched. It was gentle, tentative. His grip was slight enough that I could pull away if I wanted to. But I didn’t. His lips were warm and rough, and I felt a surge of confidence fill me; Remington had broken some of his most important personal rules to free me. My seductive powers were truly great; but I couldn’t help but feel something else as well. Affection, to know I was important enough to him to break the rules…it felt nice, having somebody care so much that they were willing to break their own personal code. Or bend it at least. He pulled away slightly but stayed close enough that our foreheads brushed.
“I want to get to know you.” He murmured, “The real you.”
“I want that too.”
“Will I see you again tomorrow?”
“I think so.”
~
‘The search continues for the mysterious cat burglar known as The Fox. After being allowed to confer with a lawyer hired by a mysterious benefactor, The Fox escaped custody several months ago and has not been seen since. Despite multiple ensnarement attempts by the police, she has not appeared again. Some think she is just biding her time before striking once more; others believe she has finally taken her retirement from crime. Especially as several of the stolen items have mysteriously reappeared either with their original owners or at one of the city’s museums.’
‘In other news, the blonde bombshell that is The Shrouded Spectre’s new partner has people wondering whether The Fox has simply changed sides. An analysis of her build and several conversations with the police have them assuring us that she and The Fox are entirely different people. The new partner to the caped crusader is yet to give her name, but the public has nicknamed her Bombshell, thanks to her hair and explosive fighting style…’
Life has a habit of taking you in strange directions. A year ago, I never would have thought I’d become a woman or a cat burglar. After that, becoming a hero somehow seemed even stranger. Even after three months of fighting by the Spectre’s side, I hadn't quite gotten used to it, or to being on the side of justice. So when I found myself sitting on the end of my bed holding a positive pregnancy test, I really shouldn’t have been surprised. It was yet another curve ball life had decided to throw my way.
“You must be the reason I didn’t change back…” I whispered, holding my stomach. “That night on the roof with Remington…shit.”
Accepting my life as a woman was one thing, but a mother? I didn't know the first thing about kids. Hell, I could hardly go out each night and leave a baby alone in my apartment, could I? And hiring a nanny was out of the question. It would just be a matter of time before they connected the dots between me and Bombshell. And what would Remington think?
The watch he’d given me began to beep; we were being summoned. My hand went to my stomach as I slipped on my mask. Now that I knew there was a little life growing inside me, I couldn’t go and fight crime with the same reckless abandon I had before. But maybe I wouldn't have to. Remington and I had been growing closer over the last few weeks. We hadn't had sex again yet, but we’d come close.
By day, we were Sylvia and Remington, rich lovebirds who attended charity events and museum openings. At night, we were the heroes the city needed. It was exciting, really. I’d found myself slowly falling for him more and more, and I knew he felt the same way. The question was, did he feel the same way enough to raise a child with me? I shook my head as I dashed across rooftops, swinging along using the grappler that Spectre had given me until I reached our meeting place. He went straight to business as usual, no pleasantries. For once, I didn’t tease him about it. I had other things on my mind, a job was a welcome distraction.
I crouched on the rooftop, my gloved fingers curling over the edge, the night air cool against my skin. Three men had slipped into the jewellery store, thinking they were ghosts in the dark. They had no idea I was watching them or that Spectre was already making his way to the back alley, ready to strike.
I pulled the mask tighter against my face, my heart thudding a little harder than usual. It wasn’t just the thrill of the chase this time. I could feel a tiny, fragile secret nestled inside me, one I hadn’t dared to share with anyone yet.
Taking a deep breath, I vaulted off the ledge, landing silently in the alley beside the store. My heels barely made a sound as I slipped into the shadows. Through the glass, I could see the robbers, already stuffing diamonds and rubies into their sacks, oblivious to the danger creeping up behind them. I couldn’t help but feel a small amount of guilt swirl in my gut. I’d been just like them once; it had started as a way to survive, but at some point, I’d taken just for the thrill of it—no more. Across the alleyway, Spectre gave me a nod, and I smiled; it was time for me to do what I did best: slip in, use charm and wit, and leave without a scratch. I sauntered toward the door, my hips swaying just enough to draw eyes when I stepped inside.
"Well, well," I purred, the sound of my voice making the closest man freeze, his eyes widening as he turned. “You boys seem lost. This is no place to be so... reckless.”
I shifted my weight carefully, muscles tensing as my eyes flicked to the back of the store. Spectre would be in position soon. I just had to keep them occupied. One of the men reached for the baton at his side.
“I wouldn’t,” I whispered, flexing my clawed glove dramatically. “Unless you want to get scratched.”
All eyes were on me, as per usual. Time for Spectre to strike. The back door crashed open. Spectre stormed in, his dark cape swirling around him like a storm. His presence filled the room, turning the robbers from cocky to terrified in seconds. He didn’t speak—he didn’t need to. His fists did all the talking.
The leader raised his gun, but Spectre was faster, slamming the man into a display case with enough force to crack the glass. The others hesitated, giving me a perfect opening. I dodged one, slipping past him and kicking his legs out from under him before Spectre grabbed the third by the collar and tossed him like a ragdoll into the wall. My pulse was steady, though my secret fluttered like a caged bird, and I was glad to step back into the shadows.
I let Spectre round them up and shove them into a police car while I returned to our beloved rooftops. Ever since donning my mask, I’d found these places comforting. Up here, above everybody else, I felt free and safe.
“What’s wrong?”
“Jesus! Spectre, a little warning.” I nearly jumped out of my skin. “How can somebody in combat boots move so quietly?”
“Practice.” He smirked. “Now, what's wrong?”
“Nothing!”
“You said that too quickly.”
I rolled my eyes; how had this man learned to read me so well, so quickly? I sighed and placed a hand over my stomach: now or never. There were no more secrets between us now, I’d even told him about my past life as a man and he’d accepted it. I couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk losing him. Especially not now that we were about to be tethered together by another human being.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words hung in the air. Spectre stayed silent, his face unreadable, and I panicked. Was he going to cut me loose now that I couldn’t fight crime, or worse, did he think I was lying? My fears were kept at bay a moment later, though, as he stepped forward and gently cupped my face, pulling me in for a kiss. There was so much emotion behind it, it was the most tender kiss Remington had ever given me, and in that moment, I knew everything would be alright.
“You should have told me sooner.”
“I only just found out.”
“Well…I think this is timed perfectly. Come, I have something to show you.”
He took my hand and led me over to the rooftops where his car was waiting. A few button presses later, the suped-up hero car was disguised as a normal, albeit expensive-looking car. I removed my mask and felt my blonde hair turn its usual red, and my costume melted away as Remington removed his manually. Whoever was driving the car remained behind the privacy wall, and I watched as the city sped by and began to disappear.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Home.”
The car sped through back alleys, out into the suburbs and back again, obviously covering our tracks until we arrived on the rich side of town. Not far from the country club, the car began to speed toward a wall, and I cringed before, at the last second, the wall slid away to reveal a hidden tunnel.
“The sanctum?” I asked, wide-eyed. Remington nodded; even in our months working together, he’d never let me come here. It was the last secret between us.
The tunnel seemed to go on for a long time before it finally opened up into a huge cave. Several levels of metal floors and walls decorated the hollow, making it look almost like the inside of a skyscraper with rocks for walls. The car parked, and a moment later, the door opened. Remington’s butler, Jeeves, smiled at me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Of course, you’re in on this.”
Remington didn't give the man a chance to reply.
“Come, I have something to show you.”
As we ascended the stairs, nerves began to creep back into my system. He wasn’t saying anything about the baby. We reached that large computer, and Remington removed his hood and smiled.
“It’s time we made you some proper fake documents, don't you think?” He said. “If you’re going to stay here, I want you to be secure.”
“Stay here?”
“At my estate, I don’t want you out crime fighting while pregnant, love.”
Relief flooded me.
“So you’re alright with it? Me being pregnant, I mean?”
“Of course!” He cried, wrapping his arms around me. “I couldn’t be more excited. I just want you safe and comfortable…and to see this.”
He reached one hand over and clicked a few buttons on the computer screen. Documents, photographs, and paintings…of my mask appeared.
“It’s from an ancient Japanese myth, the kitsune mask. Or trickster mask. It was said the mask could change a person into whoever they needed to be. The more they used it, the more permanent the change became until, eventually, the magic was used, and the mask was no longer needed.” Remington explained. “Supposedly, it only works for one person in a generation. It’s not supposed to be real.”
“Well, I think I proved that it is.” I chuckled.
The mask was going to stop working eventually, which would explain why it only made the smallest changes now.
“I’m going to need to buy a wig.” I giggled. “When the pregnancy is over, I mean. Bombshell can’t be a redhead.”
Remington threw back his head and laughed.
“I think you need to sort out your priorities.”
“If I did that, we wouldn’t be together.”
“True.”
Remington leaned in and kissed me again, bringing his hand to rest on my stomach. This certainly wasn't the direction I thought my life would go that fateful night when I first donned the mask, but I couldn’t be happier with how it worked out.
Epilogue
The night was alive with the hum of the city, but our attention was fixed on the bank below. Lights flashed from the rooftop to the alley, and through the vault doors, a group of thugs was in for a rude awakening.
"Alright," Spectre growled, crouching beside me, his cape billowing in the wind. "We do this by the book. Stay sharp, stay quick. Ricochet, you ready?"
Our son, perched between us, grinned wide beneath his mask, his bright eyes gleaming excitedly. He had my dark red hair but Remington’s athletic build. He’d been waiting for this ever since he turned twelve. I smiled, my heart swelling with pride and a dash of worry. Ricochet was quick on his feet, agile, and energetic—he was ready for his first mission, but as his mother, I wasn't sure I was.
"Born ready, Dad."
“Don’t call me dad out here, only Spectre, remember?”
“Oh yeah! Sorry, Dad.”
Spectre groaned, and I stepped in.
“Alright, sweetie,” I said, tweaking his chin playfully. “Let’s make it a show.”
Ricochet winked at me and vaulted off the roof, his laughter echoing through the night. He somersaulted mid-air, landing on the bank’s awning with the grace of a cat, a perfect echo of his mother. I turned and smiled at Spectre.
"Shall we?"
“Let’s go,” he grunted, already leaping down after Ricochet.
I followed, clawed fingers twitching in anticipation. We were family, and tonight, anyone looking for trouble was about to get a front-row seat to our particular brand of family bonding.
As we slipped into the bank, Ricochet was already playing his part, jumping onto the back of one of the robbers who had the bright idea of trying to haul a sack of money out the front door.
“Wrong move, big guy!” Ricochet quipped, wrapping his arms around the thug’s neck. “Let’s deposit you back where you belong!”
“Fuck!” One of them swore. “Since when do they have a kid?!”
I saw two more men rushing toward my son, but I stepped between them.
"You boys better make a withdrawal while you still can. Mama Cat’s got claws!"
The nearest thug hesitated, his eyes wide as I moved toward him. The other wasn’t so smart—he lunged, swinging wildly. With a quick twist, I sidestepped him, kicking his legs out from under him.
Spectre, meanwhile, had already taken down the rest, moving like a force of nature through the room. His fists were fast, brutal, but precise. Our son leapt from his first target to another with a delighted laugh. The three of us, together, were a force no criminal could withstand. We were more than heroes—we were a family. And as long as we had each other, there was no limit to what we could accomplish. It was only a matter of time before the criminals were apprehended. Spectre went to speak with the police while Ricochet and I disappeared into the shadows as planned. We were supposed to meet back on the rooftop, but I took my son for a little detour.
“What’s that, mom?” He asked as I reached into my utility belt and pulled out several cash rolls. “Wait…did you steal those?”
“The robbers stole them first.” I pointed out, “And don't worry, sweetie, we’re not keeping them.”
I slipped them into the mail slot of the local soup kitchen.
“Does Dad know that you do that?”
“He does, he doesn't know when, but he knows Bombshell occasionally plays Robin Hood.”
“And…that’s okay? Dad says stealing is wrong.”
“It is…most of the time.”
I turned to face my son and placed my hands on his shoulders.
“Darling, sometimes the rich have too much. We’re lucky, and I make sure we give as much to charity as possible. Sometimes, when we stop these crimes, I see somebody with riches they won’t miss…like that Bank manager, and I redistribute it. A few thousand may not be much to him, but it’s food for a month for those people, understand?”
Ricochet nodded.
“I think so, mom.”
“Come on, let’s go meet your father.”
Ricochet fired off his grapple and swung off into the night. He was such a good boy, I’d never imagined myself as a mother, but now that I had him, I couldn’t imagine life any other way. And I had that mysterious mask to thank for it. The magic had stopped working years ago, so it sat in a box displayed in our Sanctum. Who knows, maybe one day, Ricochet would feel like a change, and I could pass it on to him. Or not. There was no telling what the future would hold.
