The blurry still of Ursula was broadcast on the wall.  The LC’s council room was nearly full, twelve of the sixteen seats filled.  

“So Siren confirms that this was the woman who abducted her?” Lady Sapphire asked.

Barrage nodded.  “Yeah.”  He was sitting up on his dusty old couch, a rare occurrence.

“You can’t even see her face,” Sirius said.

“How can she be certain?” her twin Cygnus asked.  

“She’s the only one we know of to meet this ‘Sea Witch,’ and is still alive,” Barrage said.  

“Does it even matter if it’s the same person or not?” Lini asked.  “I mean, we should step in regardless, right?”

Lady Sapphire sighed.  “It’s not so simple.  The Coast Guard is investigating, but most of these attacks have happened in or very close to international waters.  The Pentagon isn’t likely to give us a green light until we know more.”

“So what, we just sit around waiting until more people die?” Lini asked.  A dull murmur of agreement went around the room.

“I didn’t say that.  Adam, Pegasus, I want you two to go to Wilmington.  Adam, I trust you still have contacts there?”

The short man perched atop a simple stool nodded.  He unshouldered his gun, the sentient weapon Arquebus, and pressed a few buttons on the side.  “Yeah, we’ll find out if they know anything else.”

“Good.  Pegasus, assist him, try to find a pattern in the attacks.”

The statuesque blonde nodded from her polished leather armchair.

“I’m going to take what we have to DC.  Everyone else, business as usual until we know more.”

The Legends all got up and began filing out of the conference room.  

“Barrage, a moment,” Lady Sapphire called after the cowboy, who was the last to get up off his couch.

He sidled over to her, waiting until they were alone.  “Yes?”

“If this is the woman who’s after Siren’s voice, it presents a lot of problems.”

“Oh, I know.  It’s why I brought it up.  I can never tell anymore if we’re being up front and transparent, or all cloak and dagger.”

Lady Sapphire rubbed her temple.  “These are difficult times, Israel.  Saving the world isn’t enough anymore.  I don’t need to tell you the hell that would break loose if this witch was able to somehow steal Siren’s power.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Just keep an eye on her.”

Barrage nodded.  “Aye aye boss.”  He turned to leave.  “Have fun in DC.”

“God I hate that place so much,” Lady Sapphire groaned.



“Taking down the head of the mob was your crowning achievement.  Yes, you got a lot of backlash, but it was much more marketable than busting petty thugs and crooks.  The cops can do that, and by doing their job for them, you’re alienating your little cousins in law enforcement.  You need a big job.”

“I take it you have something in mind?” Anna asked.  She was donning her new costume.  Hoonan had wanted to see her in it.

“I do as a matter of fact.  There are rumors of a BDSM club that is being used as a front for a white slavery ring, in South Monroe.”

Anna opened her bedroom door, standing before the publicist.  “So let me get this straight, you want me to distance my image from that of a sex object, and your first idea is for me to go into a sex club?”

Hoonan was nonplussed.  “That’s not the mask I gave you.”

Anna traced the edge of the crimson and green domino mask with her finger.  “No, it’s not.”

“Was there a problem with the one I provided?”

“No.  It just wasn’t this one.”  She stared at the publicist, waiting to see if she’d challenge her.

“Fine, whatever.  And this does distance you.  It establishes a stance, standing out against that lifestyle and culture.  You’re the one who wanted to own your identity and to embrace your past.  So this is the strategy we’ll have to take.”

Anna sighed.  “And there’s nothing else?”

“Not locally.  Unless Anna Carillon wants to go on a convenient vacation for a week so Siren can stop drug lords down south or arms traffickers up north or overseas.  Bristol’s not that big, and there aren’t a lot of options.  Until you’re ready to expand your radius, which you’ve been adamant that you are not, then this is your best bet.”

Hoonan was right.  She wasn’t quite ready to take that step.  Bristol was actually a lot bigger a city than she’d wanted to go to when she’d been forced out of the LC, but Macy had convinced her to stay close.

“There’re people who need help.  It’s below the LC’s radar, but too well organized for the cops.  You could be the only one who can do anything about this.”

“You are very persuasive,” Anna admitted.

“Until meeting you, I considered it my super power.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.  Just trying to do some good with it is a lot harder than you’d think.”

“Well, that’s where I come in.”

They were both startled by a knock at the door.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Hoonan asked.

“No.”  Anna kicked off her boots and skirt, before pulling on sweatpants and a hoody over the costume, taking off the mask and tucking it into her pocket.  “I will admit that this costume is super convenient,” she said, heading for the door.

Hoonan stepped out of sight into the kitchen and Anna opened her door revealing Macy.

“I’m sorry, I was a bitch was last night.”

“I’m sorry, I deserved it.”

“Apology over?”

“Apology over.”

It was a practiced routine.  They’d made a pact early on that after a fight, they had up to three days to hold a grudge, and after that, they’d apologize, and put it behind them.  No exceptions.

“Come on in,” Anna said.  “It’s fine Hoonan, this is my sister.”

The publicist stepped out of the kitchen.

“Macy, this is Liv Hoonan.  Liv, Macy Williams.”

“Charmed,” Liv said, stepping across the room, her hand extended.

“I’m sure,” Macy muttered under her breath.  Anna glared at her.   “A pleasure to meet you.”  Macy forced a smile and shook Liv’s hand.  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Actually, I was just leaving,” the publicist said.  “Anna, I’ll send you the details.  The sooner the better.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to go.”

“I’m a busy woman,” she replied curtly, picking up her purse.  “It was a pleasure meeting you Miss Williams,” she said, and left.

“She seems… delightful,” Macy commented once the publicist was gone.

“She’s not that bad.  Her ideas aren’t half bad.  Oh, check it out.”  Anna quickly shed her outer clothes, revealing the costume beneath.

“It’s, uh, a little more, hmm, revealing than I thought you were going for.”

“I’ve got a skirt in my room with the boots and gloves.  But I can wear it under clothes, which is a plus, and it’s not nearly as bad as the first number I wore, one I might remind you that you designed.”

“First of all, we were 18, and heroines were wearing a lot less back then,” Macy said as Anna went into her room to retrieve the rest of her costume.

Anna came back out, wearing the boots, gloves, skirt, and wig.  “Well, what do you think?”  She twirled, the skirt fluttering out slightly as she spun.

“It looks great.”

Anna raised an eyebrow.  “Tell me honestly.”

“It’s better than I hoped.  It could be better, but I didn’t like the idea of someone else designing your costume, and I was hoping it was truly awful, so I could shove it in your face.”

“And you called me petty.”

“Fair point.  I get it now though.”

“Well I am always open to suggestions.  Speaking of.”  She bent over and pulled the domino mask out of her sweatshirt pocket, putting it on.

“You’re wearing my mask,” Macy said, giddy with excitement.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear she wasn’t a fan.”

“Oh my god yes.  You have no idea how happy I am that you’re wearing it.”

“I’m gonna put some mileage on it.  Hoonan’s got some job for me looking into a sex club that may be a front for a white slavery ring.”  Anna proceeded to explain Hoonan’s plan.



Siren rapped her knuckles on the unmarked door in an alley behind a boarded up pawnshop.  A latch slid open, revealing a small window.

“Password?” a deep voice said from behind the door.

“Let me in,” she said, and a second later, the window shut and the door opened.

“Forget you saw me,” Siren said, brushing past the bouncer.  It was a nifty trick.  She couldn’t actually erase anyone’s memory, but unless pressed, he would put letting her into the club out of his mind.

The bouncer sat back on his stool, pulling his phone back out, ignoring the heroine as she made her way into the club.  A bright neon sign in front of her bore the words “Whips and Flails and Cat o’Nine Tails.”

“Cute,” Siren said, walking under the sign into a hall, leading deeper into the club.  The brick fitting with exterior of the building gave way to old stone, heavy wooden doors with barred windows lining the halls.  The place really did look and feel like a dungeon.

A scream of pain caught her attention, and she ran to one of the doors, peering through the barred window.  A leather clad woman was flogging a man, naked and bound to a large wooden cross.

She reached for the door, but stopped herself.  If there was something shady and illegal going on here, this wasn’t it.  

Siren winced as the dominatrix brought the flog across the man’s back again, and moved on.

“Ignore me,” she told a dungeon master who was approaching her as she made her way deeper into the dungeon, and he walked swiftly past her, not giving her a second glance.  She found her costume wasn’t too out of place amidst the wild outfits of the club’s patrons, and most of them didn’t give her a second glance.

She moved through the open rooms allowing spectators as the patrons of the club performed bizarre kinky sexual acts on and with each other.  Phones seemed to have been surrendered at the door, and there seemed to be no security cameras, so her presence seemed to go largely undocumented.

Siren made her way past all the rooms with various dungeons and scenarios set up, reaching a locked iron door.  She paused, wondering how soundproof the heavy door and stone walls were, and if simply knocking and hoping she could compel whoever might come to the door to open it for her.

“Hey, you in the, uh, skimpy leather ensemble,” she called to a dominatrix walking past.  “Come here.”

“You seem out of place.  First time?” the woman asked, walking over to Siren, sizing her up.  With her stilettos, the woman towered over Siren, looking down on her with a stern gaze.

“Do you work here?” Siren asked, meeting the woman’s gaze, making a conscious effort not to look at the large purple strap-on dangling between the woman’s legs.

“Are you looking for a villain to put you in your place?” she asked, tapping the end of her riding crop against her calf.

“Cut the domineering bullshit,” Siren said.  “Tell me what’s behind that door.”

“I don’t know,” she said, shifting, suddenly uncomfortable in her ridiculous heels.  She’d dropped the sultry voice, her tone more normal, bordering on awkward.

“Tell me who does.”

“Uh, Carl probably does.  I don’t know him very well, but I think I’ve seen him come out of there.”  She was fidgeting, clearly stressed that she couldn’t give Siren exactly what she wanted.

“Is this Carl here now?”

“I haven’t seen him tonight…”  She wrung her hands nervously before forcing them to her sides, adjusting the straps holding the strap-on in place, the rubber phallus bouncing obscenely.

Siren sighed.  “Don’t worry about it.  Get, dressed, go home.”

The dominatrix turned and walked away, her swagger quickly returning as her agitation melted away.  As she disappeared around a corner, Siren heard a creak, spinning in time to see the heavy door slowly swing open.

“Well that can’t be a coincidence,” she muttered, glancing around for a camera.  She didn’t see one, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t being watched.  She sidled along the wall, getting a better angle to see inside the door.  There was no one that she could see on the other side.

“If you’re back there, come on out,” she called, advancing on the door.  When no one came forward, she pulled the door open, peering inside.  A staircase descended beneath the club into darkness, the stonework older than that of the rest of the club.

She glanced back into the club, seeing no one to witness her descent deeper into the dungeon.