The hot chocolate was taken away, set on the table on the other side of the door, and then Karl was being kissed like he was candy put in front of a child too-long denied sugar. "Stop spoiling my cats." He dropped his bag and jacket by the door. When he stepped inside, however, the lights were already on and the cats were happily eating. Hopefully Trick would drop by that night or the next, reassure Karl he was alive and well. The bus ride home was blissfully peaceful, and by the time he got up to his condo, he was almost relaxed, despite the worry clawing at the back of his mind. "Thanks." He kissed her cheek, took the cup, and headed out. "Here, take a hot chocolate for the road." Hopefully that's all the exploding that will happen tonight." Why would Trick be working with Turncoat? What was he doing blowing up a building? If not for the invisibility shield-way bigger than the law permitted, but of course nobody was mentioning that-the blast would have done serious damage to surrounding buildings. More than anything, though, he hoped Trick was okay. He wouldn't be surprised if all of that suddenly took an even worse turn. The city had been too slow, too cheap, and too reluctant of late regarding repairs. And he seriously doubted that building had come from private funds and donations. Karl watched the news for a few minutes more, but as usual, nothing too informative was provided. He'd already killed seven, the only man alive to purposely kill so many. Scones, a professional killer who focused on super heroes. Turncoat, for treason, murder, and a long list of destruction-related crimes.įortune, aka Byron Valentine, mastermind of several attacks on the G.O.D.
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