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Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceUnderage Sex

Categories:

F/FGenOtherF/M

Fandoms:

Warhammer 40.000Worm - Fandom

Characters:

Taylor Hebert | Skitter | WeaverSherrel Bailey | SquealerEmma Barnes (Parahumans)Undersiders (Parahumans)Lisa Wilbourn | TattletaleAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen

Additional Tags:

Alt-Power Taylor HebertVillain Taylor HebertPsyker Taylor HebertEarth Bet is a shitholeThe slope is steep and well lubricatedTaylor's boots have poor tractionPsychic AbilitiesPsychic ViolencePsychic BondPsychic MindfuckeryDubious Consent?Power PerversionPsychokinetic Tentacles

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2023-09-20Completed:2025-01-28Words:289,573Chapters:27/27Comments:1,733Kudos:3,414Bookmarks:853Hits:236,851

A Ruinous Gift

Noodlehammer

Chapter 7: Domination

Notes:

Alvor should be thanked for helping me polish this up.

Chapter Text

March 16th, 2011.

Since triggering, Taylor had become increasingly annoyed at the thought of doing only one thing at a time. Although initially doubtful about the usefulness of multitasking, she now hated to waste thinking power.

But she had only two hands. There was a limit to how much she could do at once, even if she was able to process an insane amount of sensory information. Conveniently, she had someone who was not so limited.

"Come on, Larry. Just a few more!" Taylor encouraged, doing another sit-up.

In front of her floated dozens of books, suspended on fleshy tendrils extending from the feet of the man doing sit-ups across from her. Larry was sweating buckets and completely red in the face as he tried to lift himself up.

"HNNNGH!" He keened in his throat as he managed it, using the tendrils to flip the pages and bring another set of books into reading distance.

The books were on every topic imaginable. Textbooks on math, chemistry, physics, and so on. Language dictionaries for Spanish, German, Japanese, Mandarin, Vietnamese, and more. Primers on electronics, business, trading, plumbing, construction, and other trades. Cookbooks and drink mixing, sewing and traffic laws, police procedures and weapon manuals. Taylor would look at a page, dedicate enough mental iterations to register every word, dedicate more to chewing over the information, then move on to the next. She had all this processing power, so there was no reason to not learn everything. A chunk of the information would be lost once she stopped focusing on it, especially when it wasn't reinforced by practice, but she could always review it again.

Larry was here both because she wanted to exercise while learning, and because he also wanted to get fit so that he could attract some ladies. He would always be short and bald and have a huge hooked nose, but he could at least get himself into shape. Taylor had gleefully co-opted that desire into her own plans, while also adding power practice for him into it.

The two of them were in an old, abandoned gym that the owner had long since given up on as a profitable venture. Instead, it had been used as a stash house by way of paying off said owner. Taylor had since then moved the drugs and money elsewhere, had the place cleaned up a bit, and was thinking of re-opening it as a Black Hand business. Her people could certainly use the exercise.

Larry proved this by crashing on to his back with a painful wheeze. "Sorry, Boss, I can't do any more."

"That's fine." Taylor grunted, not stopping her own sit-ups. The burn in her abdominal muscles was delicious. "Take five, but keep swapping out my books and turning the pages. You can finish your last set after that. Then we can move on to weight lifting."

He made a sound that might have been a whimper, but didn't protest. She did, however, feel his will to keep going wavering. It was hard, and painful, and the goal was so far away.

Taylor reached out with her mind and crushed the budding seed of despair, pushing determination his way instead.

"Right." Larry agreed, breathing hard. He then nodded towards the mass of tendrils holding up the books. "You really think doing that will help me with my powers?"

"You've been getting better with the books. Steadier, more precise." Taylor pointed out with a grunt of effort. "There's no reason why you couldn't apply that in combat."

Their raid on the ABB brothel was coming up soon and she was antsy about it. There would be no losses on their side if she had anything to say about it.

"I guess you're right." He conceded, still panting. "It's just… I never figured myself for any kind of powerhouse."

Because he'd been a drug-addled wreck. In truth, Taylor expected Larry to be as powerful as Hookwolf if he had enough preparation time, now that he'd been taught how to use his powers effectively. The upcoming raid would test that as well.

"You'll show them." She assured confidently. "Now get back to work."

But the ringing of her cell phone interrupted her command.

"Saved!" Larry jokingly cheered, extending another tendril to pick up the phone and deposit it in her hand. A brief glance showed that it was one of her dealers calling.

"Talk to me." Taylor demanded, mind racing as she wondered what kind of problem had come up now. Her dealers had clear instructions about how to operate and were not supposed to call unless it was necessary.

"Uh, Boss?" The dealer said nervously. "There's a redhead teenage girl going around asking for you. Said her name is Emma Barnes and that she knows you?

Exactly seventy-six mental iterations were derailed by the surprise. What the hell did Emma want with her now? She briefly considered that Emma didn't know that Taylor Hebert was Psyker, but that made no sense. Emma would have no reason to approach if that was the case.

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"No, Boss. Just keeps saying that she needs to talk to you and offering money to anyone that will get her into contact with you. She looks like she's one boo away from pissing herself if I'm being honest."

This was making less sense by the minute. Taylor had known that Emma was imploding, had seen it happen as Sophia stayed gone and her bullying stopped working. Sometimes, she had idly pondered taking further revenge on the traitor, but it hadn't been any kind of priority. If Emma had been reduced to this much of a terrified wreck, then why was she going around looking for trouble?

For a moment she wondered if the PRT was using her as bait, but dismissed it as unlikely. Corrupt as they were, they still had to at least pretend to care about the law. Alan and Zoe would never let their underage daughter be used like that.

"Was anyone following her?" No sense in being careless, though.

"Doesn't look like it."

Curiosity wormed its way into her mind. It was probably something stupid and pointless, much like the redhead this was attached to, but she still couldn't help but want to know.

Taylor looked down at herself. She had been intending to jog around the block a few times, work up a good sweat, then take a shower in the gym before driving to her and Sherrel's place in her new car. To that end she was only wearing a sports bra and compression shorts, because she couldn't deny herself the bite of the cold air on her skin, not with how much sensation she'd lost as her people's withdrawal symptoms abated. And because she was actually proud of her body these days. Still not much in the way of boobs, but she looked athletic and strong now.

She didn't fear that anything might happen to her. Despite its dilapidated look, the neighborhood was actually quite safe these days.

And she did still have Sophia's knife, tucked into a new holster in her waistband, just in case. This being Brockton Bay, nobody even thought it strange.

It wasn't exactly an outfit to be meeting someone in, but it was just Emma. She wasn't going to get dressed up for Emma. In fact, this gave her an idea for a little petty revenge. That dealer's location wasn't too far from the gym, and she certainly wasn't going to skip her jog for Emma's sake.

"Tell her to wait at the bus stop." She said and hung up.

Turning to Larry, Taylor arched an eyebrow at his hopeful look. "Alright, you can go. Just pack the books into my car's trunk, alright?"

"You got it, Boss." He slumped in relief and walked towards the showers.

She'd just work him twice as hard after the raid. It was no good for capes to be flabby after all, and he had enough of a regeneration factor that he couldn't really hurt himself by exercising. As their heavy hitter and frontline combatant, Larry needed to be at the top of his game.

XXXXX

Emma realized that her plan had some flaws, chief among them actually finding Taylor. It wasn't like villains posted their addresses and working hours online. Feeling that time was running out, she did as much research as he could on suspected Black Hand and former Merchant areas of activity. Once she had something, she dressed up as nicely as she could while still staying practical, took the can of mace that any sensible girl in Brockton Bay carried, slipped out of the house when nobody was looking, and set off.

Going around asking if anyone knew how to get in contact with Psyker had been terrifying. Every time she offered money in exchange for information, she feared that she was about to get mugged despite not venturing too far away from the main street. Even when it didn't happen, most of the answers she got were vague and unhelpful and definitely not worth the three hundred dollars she spent getting them.

Then a Hispanic man in his early twenties ambled up to her and Emma stuck her hand into her purse, gripping the can of mace with white knuckles. But instead of trying to mug her, he just told her to go wait by the bus stop and left without another word.

And that was where she had been for the past ten minutes, anxiously waiting for something to happen. Emma figured that a car would come pick her up or something and obsessively went over what she would say, knowing that her life literally depended on it.

Her planning was interrupted by the sight of a crazy jogger girl wearing nothing but a sports bra and compression shorts, her long black ponytail swaying with every loping step.

"Damn fitness nuts." Emma grumbled under her breath, annoyed at the interruption of her thoughts. Sure, winter was almost over, but it was still chilly.

But the crazy jogger girl didn't pass on by. She went right for the bus stop, and as she came closer, Emma's heart began to thunder in her ribcage. The crazy jogger girl was pretty tall, and her hair was awfully curly…

But there was no way. Taylor would never wear something so revealing, even putting aside the temperature. She had no confidence in her looks at all! Besides, this crazy jogger girl wasn't wearing glasses.

But it did turn out to be Taylor after all, and Emma could only gape. Taylor used to be a skinny beanpole with a potbelly. Insults about looking like an upright frog and comments about her complete lack of curves had come easy.

This new Taylor had the body of a serious athlete. She still didn't have much on her chest, but her ass looked amazing. Her arms and legs were corded with lean muscle, and her stomach had a clearly visible sixpack.

Emma hadn't actually seen Taylor's body in a long while. She always wore baggy clothes, and they'd messed with her stuff so often during PE that she'd stopped bothering to bring it, just going through the class in her usual hoodie. This was very different from what she remembered.

"Emma." Taylor said coldly, fixing her with an unfriendly stare.

"H-hey, Taylor." Emma swallowed and clenched her fist, forcibly tamping down on the stutter. She tried for a compliment. "You're looking good."

The stare continued unabated and it was all she could do to not look away. Taylor's stare had been getting heavier every day since the locker, and the month since they'd last seen each other seemed to have continued that trend.

"Come on, I know a place where we can talk." She finally said. "Try to keep up."

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. This was already going better than she'd feared. Clutching her purse close, and glad that she'd worn sneakers, she ran after Taylor.

And ran.

And ran.

And ran.

The place Taylor had mentioned was obviously nowhere nearby. Emma had always hated exercise and getting sweaty, and now her former friend was making her run like a dog behind her while she seemed to have no trouble at all, even running in place so that she could catch up but never letting her rest. Even Sophia hadn't been this good of a runner, so this was obviously just another way of showing her strength.

Emma hated it, but it was better than being killed, so she stumbled behind her even as her clothes got soaked with sweat and a painful stitch developed in her side. Finally after what had to be almost thirty minutes, Taylor went into what looked like a rundown gym.

It was a rundown gym, with equipment that had obviously gone unused for a long time. Emma stumbled over to a weight lifting bench with scuffed and torn padding to sit down, gasping for breath. She had just put down her purse and coat when a water bottle was waved in her face.

"Thanks." Emma gasped and quickly drank some.

Too quickly, as her abused body rebelled against the inflow of water and she choked on it.

"I was surprised to hear that you were looking for me." Taylor started speaking, slowly pacing up and down in front of her. "I didn't think we had anything left to say to each other."

"I'm sorry." Emma's voice was a bit hoarse from the coughing fit. "Sophia was wrong about you. I was wrong about you… we were all wrong about you."

"Sorry?" Taylor repeated. "Sorry won't bring back my mother's flute."

Emma winced, bitterly regretting listening to Sophia and throwing the ruined flute into the bay. If she'd kept it, then she could have had it restored and presented it as part of her apology. Another instance where Sophia had led her wrong.

It didn't escape her that the locker hadn't been mentioned, and knew better than to assume it was because Taylor didn't hold a grudge over it. Parahumans didn't talk about their trigger event. She had asked about Sophia's once and the reaction had been… severe.

"I know, but I can be useful!" She rushed to say. "I'm not as strong as you, but I can help. You'll need minions to help you run your gang, right?"

"And why would I trust you to help me with anything?" Taylor spat contemptuously, her pacing becoming more agitated.

Emma felt more sweat bead on her skin, this time cold. She had to make her see! "I'd be loyal, I swear!"

"Like you were loyal before?! I loved you, Emma! You were my sister!" Taylor suddenly shouted, making her cringe away fearfully.

"I'm sorry!" She whined. "I thought you were weak, Sophia said so! I needed to be strong!"

"Is that what you were wrong about?" Her once-friend asked, making Emma furrow her brow and rewind the conversation in her head for a bit. Right, she had said that. "You know, I never did find out what happened to you. I told myself it didn't matter anymore, but I'm still curious. Go on, tell me what made you think you had to become a backstabbing bitch."

Emma didn't want to talk about that, but if it made Taylor listen…

"Do you remember when you were at summer camp two years ago? We were on the phone and I suddenly hung up?" She asked hesitantly.

Taylor nodded silently, staring at her with angry, demanding eyes.

Emma tried to stay strong, to show that she was over it and that it didn't bother her anymore, but she ended up stuttering the story out through tears and hiccups. How her father had the idiotic idea to cut through an alley late in the evening, the ABB thugs that blocked it with a dumpster and then pulled them out of the car. Him getting held down and forced to watch while the girl with them stole her jacket and hacked off her hair, forcing her to eat it. The threats to cut her up, their cruel 'jokes' about selling her off. Fighting back in a panic and being saved by Shadow Stalker. Being too scared to leave her room for a week, then going back to the alley and meeting Sophia, who explained her predator and prey philosophy that let her move past what happened.

By the time it was over, she was a sobbing mess and could only be glad that she had chosen not to wear any makeup.

"I see." Taylor simply said when her story was done. "I understand now. You're not my Emma anymore."

"Huh?" Emma said intelligently.

"The ABB broke you, and then Sophia tried to put you back together in her own image. By the time I came back, my friend was already gone."

"They didn't break me!" Emma's protest was more than a little shrill and wet. "I fought back, I survived!"

Taylor's eyes bored into her. She silently reached forward, slow enough that Emma was able to not flinch, but then she grabbed a lock of hair and brought it to her mouth.

Terror whited out her mind. When she came back to herself, she was hyperventilating on the floor, feeling bile in the back of her throat. Her chest hurt from how hard her heart was beating.

"They broke you." Taylor repeated. "And you're still broken, because nothing that Sophia did was for you. It was for her, so that she'd have someone cheering her on while she indulged in her petty sadism. You were never her friend, you were an accessory, an enabler, a tool she used to stroke her own ego."

Emma lunged.

XXXXX

Taylor looked down at the bawling redhead clinging to her leg with a conflicted frown. It was some kind of bitter irony that her revenge fantasies seemed to have come true. Emma was mentally broken and fit to be locked in a padded room.

But it wasn't her who had done it, not really. This was yet another of Sophia's messes. How did that small-minded thug manage to create such a colossal fuck up of everything she touched?

Taylor knew the answer even as she asked the question, pulled from the web of thought that had begun collating information during Emma's story. If Sophia hadn't been a parahuman, nobody would have taken her seriously and she'd have gotten smacked over the head when she tried to cause trouble. But because she had powers, her words gained weight they didn't deserve. Parahumans were never taken lightly. Emma wouldn't have listened to some random girl spouting the kind of ridiculous bullshit Sophia had sold her, no matter how fragile and suggestible she'd been at the time, but she had listened to Shadow Stalker, her supposed savior.

Taylor was keenly aware of her position right now, of what she could do. What Sophia had done – no doubt accidentally – with her self-absorbed rambling about predators and prey, she could do deliberately. Emma was broken and suggestible, desperate for someone to help her piece together her world view.

Conventional morality said that she should take Emma home so that her parents could get her into therapy. Heroes were supposed to have faith in the system and not act on their own initiative.

But Taylor was a villain and the system was a paper thin façade on a collapsing civilization. Alan Barnes had already failed his daughter once. Why hadn't he put Emma into therapy two years ago? If he had then none of this would have happened. He deserved nothing after threatening to bankrupt them if they didn't stop 'slandering' his precious daughter. After learning from Jeffrey Blackwell what he was like in the courtroom, she knew that he fit the soulless lawyer stereotype to a T.

As for Zoe and Anne Barnes… they had obviously failed her, too, by failing to notice the problem. Could therapy even help fix the massive, bleeding wound she saw in Emma's mind? Would some mind-blind psychiatrist really be able to do anything for her, or would she just be put on anti-depressants to keep the dark thoughts at bay?

Taylor crouched down and gently pulled Emma away from her leg, holding her cheeks. "Shhh, look at me. Look at me, Emma."

"I'm sorry!" The redhead wailed with her eyes screwed shut, clutching at her wrists but otherwise sitting limp on the ground. "I thought I had to. I thought I had to! I'm sorry!"

"Show me." Taylor demanded, gently but insistently. "Look at me and show me."

Eye contact wasn't necessary, but she found that it helped.

Emma opened bloodshot green eyes and slowly went slack. Taylor briefly saw the reflection of her own eyes glowing with eldritch blue-white light, then gazed deeper, into the open psychic wound in her soul.

She had never done anything quite like this before. People usually had an ego barrier around their minds that kept her from casually walking in. Taylor had not tried to force her way through since the fight with Sophia. Emma had no such protection. If her mind was compared to a fortress, then its walls were destroyed.

And Taylor saw everything. The attack in the alley was a defining moment in Emma's life and hung prominently in her thoughts, especially now that she'd just gone over it again. She saw the ambush, the brief and one-sided fight, the theft of the jacket, the threats and the cruelty, the names Lao and Yan, the first being the late teens girl with the knife and the second being a slightly older man who had been in charge there.

More importantly, she glimpsed Shadow Stalker waiting on the roof, just watching instead of helping, only swooping down when Emma's nerve broke and she lashed out in an animal panic. She saw the week of fear as she couldn't feel safe anywhere, The obliviousness of her family, the compulsion to return to the scene in a vain effort to recover some peace of mind, Sophia's rambling nonsense.

She saw the next two years in fast forward, a blur of desperation, always trying to keep the fear at bay by being cruel to others like Sophia taught her until it became second nature, her twisted mind interpreting the simplistic predator and prey philosophy as meaning that making others suffer meant not suffering herself. Emma had been able to trick herself into forgetting that she was scared, but it was always nipping at her heels so she kept on trying to outrun it by preying on safe targets. Safe targets like her oldest friend that she knew would never hurt her. She caught glimpses of others, like that girl in the wheelchair, but her primary target had always been Taylor.

Until Taylor came back to school as a parahuman and put a brutal end to the delusion. From Emma's perspective, the month between her return to school and Sophia's death might as well have happened overnight as her sense of safety was destroyed a second time.

Now she was more broken than ever, guilt and shame and new fear piled atop the old. Taylor came out of the mind dive and saw silent tears pouring from unseeing eyes.

"It'll be alright, Ems." She said softly, pulling the redhead close and lifting her up in a princess carry. Psychically, she started drawing that mass of trauma into herself.

Because even her out of control, power enhanced temper had nothing to fuel it anymore.

"Okay." The other girl murmured, snuggling close. She offered no resistance in either body or mind. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Taylor bit her lip to keep down an inappropriate moan as she took in all of Emma's pain. Physical pain was one thing, but this was the first time she'd tasted such a depth of emotional pain. None of the others had opened themselves up to her to such a degree.

And Emma just kept offering more and more. The light of her soul diminished as Taylor drank it in, and she realized with bone deep certainty that she was taking too much. The trauma had consumed Emma's life, and now she was consuming it. If this kept up, there would be nothing left of Emma Barnes when it was done.

That was not what she had intended. With her need for vengeance satisfied, Taylor had genuinely wanted to help. This would definitely not be helping. Processing any panic in the background, she realized that there was no going back from this. Even if she knew how to give back what she'd taken, Emma would refuse it. She had already offered up her soul and Taylor could do nothing except accept it.

Working on pure instinct, forged a link between them, binding Emma to her so that even if she died, her soul wouldn't sink into the Empyrean. No, it would come to her.

"You're my Emma again now, and you always will be." She whispered, knowing it to be the truth. "I'll take care of you."

"Thank you." Emma whispered back, the tension bleeding out of her.

"Come on, let's wash the sweat and snot off. This place has no hot water, so I hope you're okay with a cold shower."

"Will you keep me warm?"

The lust that bubbled in Emma at the suggestion was a little unexpected, but it gave her ideas.. Very tempting ideas. Taylor had been seeking new ways to satisfy her craving for sensation and had been coming up short. They were still finding new junkies occasionally, but not nearly in the numbers she'd gotten used to.

Her workouts had been getting increasingly extreme again, and her follow-up self-pleasuring sessions more vigorous and frequent as she sought out more powerful sensations.

Taylor had noticed that she was appreciating both men and women these days. Whether that had always been the case and she simply hadn't noticed any bisexual leanings before her trigger or if it was another thing her powers had changed about her was impossible to say. And irrelevant in the end.

Emma was here and extremely willing. They had been so very close once and the redhead was beautiful. And she was hers now, body and soul. There was nothing wrong with using what was yours.

She was not blind to the fact that it would look like a similar to what Heartbreaker did from the outside, but it wasn't the same. The Canadian Master was an infamous serial rapist that used his powers to enslave women that caught his attention. She had done this to help Emma.

Nobody would care about that, though. They'd tar her with the same brush, or say that she had mastered her former friend out of revenge because she wanted to humiliate her. It would have to be kept secret.

Still, even though it wasn't the same thing, an irritating niggle remained. She wanted to talk to someone about it, but didn't really have anyone to do it with.

Well, there might be one person, but it would have to wait until this mess with the ABB was finished.

XXXXX

Carried in Taylor's arms, Emma felt truly safe for the first time in almost two years. She hadn't even realized how much fear she'd been living with all the time, not until Taylor had gone inside and taken it all away.

That had to be part of her parahuman power. Emma recalled all the warnings about accepting gifts like this from parahumans, that they were almost always a vector that Masters used to control people. They even put it into the Saturday morning cartoons.

Even if that was true and Taylor was a Master, so what? It was Taylor. Taylor was safe, she could be trusted. Taylor had promised to take care of her, that she would be her Emma again.

She desperately wanted to be Taylor's Emma again. Taylor's Emma had been happy and kind. Sophia's Emma had been cruel and miserable. A wave of loathing for the dead girl swept through her. Taylor had been right, Sophia had ruined her, all to satisfy her own sick mind. But it was okay now, because Taylor had fixed her and would take care of her.

They arrived in the showers and Taylor put her down, much to her hidden disappointment. She had enjoyed being carried.

The showers were an older type, with no stalls and obviously meant for communal use. Unlike what she was used to from school, Taylor showed no fear about undressing in front of someone, peeling her sweaty and somewhat tear-and-snot-stained sports wear off.

Not that she had anything to feel ashamed about anymore. Emma couldn't have insulted Taylor's body if she'd wanted to, not with its beautifully sculpted muscles. There had to be powers involved for her to have developed them so quickly.

When the blast of high pressure water hit her, Taylor let out a gasp that sounded downright delighted to Emma's ears. She recalled what she'd said earlier about there being no hot water and wondered how she could stand it.

"Well?" Taylor turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "Don't just stand there. Come join me. It won't be the first time we've showered together."

They used to do everything together. Every weekend, they had alternated which house they slept at, but had always shared the shower or bath and the bed, often giggling at things until they fell asleep. Those had been good times.

Emma stripped out of her nasty-feeling clothes with a sense of relief and cautiously approached. The mist from the shower felt ice cold and made her shiver. Her intention had been to slowly ease into it, but Taylor suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her in.

COLD!

Emma squealed in shock and tried to escape, but the grip was too strong. When that failed, she clung to the taller girl like a limpet and keened into her chest as her body slowly adjusted to the cold. Then she froze in shock.

Because Taylor was laughing. Emma hadn't heard Taylor laugh in years, had forgotten the sound of it. It was so beautiful that it brought tears to her eyes and she clung on tighter, pressing her face into Taylor's long neck. The gentle hands stroking her back slowly made her relax despite the cold. She was being taken care of, just like Taylor had promised.

"How can you stand this c-cold?" Emma asked, teeth chattering.

"It's part of my powers." Taylor admitted. "They make everything feel good. Everything."

Oh. Yeah, that would do it. But… everything? Emma felt her whole body tingle with anticipation. She had never before felt any attraction for other girls, favoring hunky guys instead. She'd gone on a few dates, but it had never amounted to anything. In hindsight, she must have been unbearable to be around.

Now she couldn't even imagine going on a date with some guy, no matter how hot. Or just any girl for that matter. Only Taylor's image loomed large in her mind as someone she could possibly be attracted to. The strongest, most beautiful, most important person in the world. Anyone else would just take attention away from her and that was unacceptable.

Taylor's face, previously thought of as plain, was suddenly gorgeous to her. Her small breasts – although looking somewhat bigger now thanks to pectoral muscles under them – suddenly seemed so graceful. Her ass and legs… were actually very attractive even by conventional standards.

"Taylor?" Emma whispered, staring up at mesmerizing brown eyes. "Do you remember how we used to practice kissing?"

It had been an innocent curiosity back then. It didn't feel so innocent now.

"I remember." There was something hungry in Taylor's eyes and voice. It made Emma feel hot despite the freezing cold shower.

"Do you… want to practice again?" She asked hopefully, heart pounding in her chest.

Taylor didn't reply for a long moment, then she grabbed her by the back of the head and leaned down to devour her mouth in an aggressive kiss.

Emma squealed in surprise for a second, but quickly melted into it, gladly letting the taller girl take the lead. She'd always tried to be the one in charge during her dates before, constantly making demands and never allowing her date to decide on anything, because she'd thought that was what it meant to be strong. This felt much better. She took the opportunity to finally give that ass a squeeze and it was as firm as it looked.

About ten seconds into exploring this wonderful new thing, Taylor growled deep in her throat and pushed down on the top of her head. Emma unthinkingly obeyed the silent order and went down on her knees, finding herself facing the taller girl's bushy crotch.

This was going a lot faster than Emma had expected, but she didn't consider protesting for even a second. A quick glace upwards at the hungry eyes staring down at her was all the encouragement she needed. She dove right in, quickly finding the velvety folds with her tongue. Taylor's small gasp, barely heard over the shower, and the fingers digging into the back of her head let her know that she was doing good. Pleasing Taylor was always the right thing to do.

Emma had no idea what she was doing, but she was a girl and so tried to imitate what worked for her during her self-exploration.

"Harder." Taylor demanded when she was too gentle, so she stiffened her tongue and prodded hard at her clit. The moaned exhale and shudder going through the muscular legs told her it was good.

"Harder." Taylor demanded again about half a minute later, pressing Emma's face into her groin.

Emma's jaw was kind of hurting by now and she couldn't actually go any harder with her tongue. Not wanting to disappoint, she gently bit at the little nub of flesh and rubbed it between her teeth.

"Hah!" Taylor gasped, grabbing on to her head with both hands for support before steadying herself. "Just like that!"

Pleased at her success, Emma bit and pulled and sucked at it, in ways that she knew she would hurt her badly. Taylor's breathing became ragged, her legs trembled, then she suddenly cried out and threw her head back, thrusting her hips forward and holding Emma's face flush to her sex close as she reached climax.

Wanting to hear more of that beautiful sound, she did the only thing she could in her position – sealed her lips over the clitoral area and sucked on it as hard as she could. Her mouth filled with the taste of Taylor's juices and it was proof that she did good.

The orgasm lasted longer than any of hers ever had, but it did eventually end. Taylor panted above her and gently tugged on her hair, beckoning her to stand. Emma did so, looking into those brown eyes with a shy smile.

"Did I do good?" She asked eagerly.

Taylor's smile was lazy and satisfied. "Mmm, very good." Then her expression sharpened. "Are you okay? I know I got a bit carried away…"

Emma smiled back brightly, incredibly pleased at the concern. It meant that Taylor cared about her. "I'm great! That was a lot of fun."

The concern didn't disappear and she felt Taylor's presence coming inside her again, like a heavy, warm blanket. The intensely comforting feeling ended far too quickly.

"Maybe we'll do it again, then." Taylor said, giving her another smile. "Let's wash up for now. All this cold water can't be good for you."

She was getting a bit numb. Still, the promise of being able to please Taylor again kept her smiling.

XXXXX

Sherrel was just putting a few finishing touches on the APC. It wasn't the kind of armored personnel carrier that the military would use – it was better! Instead of thick and heavy armor plates, it would have a shield generator. Instead of a machine gun, it would have a lightning cannon that could go from 'taser' to 'extra crispy'. Instead of guzzling gas, it had its own power generator. It had one of her signature stealth generators. Even the seating was better… slightly.

She was so damn proud of it. Finally, something she'd made didn't look like a piece of shit! There was still room for improvement, if she had access to better materials and rare elements, but that would come. Things were already much better than before.

Taytay was really turning things around. Sherrel had never realized just how much money the Merchants had been bleeding under Skidmark's leadership. With Taylor's insane organizing skills, ability to use sorcery such as Excel spreadsheets and tables, and psychic mindfuckery to make people to stop being useless drugged up shitheads, they were raking in money by the assload even with her scruples. Dumbasses were still buying drugs, and when they started having regrets about ruining their lives, Psyker would be there to make it better and put them in debt to the Black Hand. They'd even taken over a few smaller drug dealing operations that Skidmark had never noticed before.

The prostitution was also doing a lot better. Before, the whores were mostly there to keep the boys happy and didn't bring in a lot of money. Now the whole thing was reorganized. The girls were healthier, cleaner, prettier, happier, bringing in more money, acting as another front for drug sales, and working as a kind of spy network too. She couldn't wait for that first batch to come back from the training in Boston to see what they'd learned.

And the bums weren't bums anymore! Taylor had talked to all of them, found out who had useful skills, where those skills would be needed, and started sending them around to fix shit. She'd heard the dramatic bitch call it a Shadow Union, because they were doing a lot of infrastructure work while stiffing the government out of the taxes they usually collected for that shit. People were actually respecting them now. Only in small parts of the city and on the down low for now, but it was happening.

It was more than Skids had ever wanted for the gang, and he would have had it if he hadn't died like a useless drugged up shithead. Sherrel found herself not missing her old boyfriend. Without the drug haze getting in the way of her thinking, he really had been pretty gross.

She couldn't wait to put her babies to the test against some capes and really show Brockton Bay what they were all about. Especially Armsmaster, the bastard. How dare a beefcake like him be such an asshole? She'd have him begging for a collaboration on his bike before the year was out! And she'd make him pay for it with his dick!

Sherrel snapped out of her dirty daydream when the garage door opened and Taylor's car rolled in. There was just enough space for both it and the APC, but she was early. The girl's crazy workouts usually lasted at least an hour longer.

She took a moment to appreciate another of her babies. The Audi sedan they stole from Principal Cuntstain looked more or less the same outwardly, except for the darkly tinted windows, but it was plenty tinkered up. And she'd keep improving it, too. Nothing but the best for the boss.

"Hey, Taaaayuh?" She started calling a greeting, only to stumble over it when a strikingly pretty redhead exited from the passenger seat. She was wearing one of Taylor's hoodies and her hair was still a bit wet, just like Taylor's.

"Sherrel." Taylor greeted, composed as always. "This is my friend Emma. Emma, meet Sherrel, formerly Squealer, now Gearshift."

"Hi." The redhead said with a slightly awkward smile, giving a little wave. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too." Sherrel was kinda happy about anyone being pleased to meet her, but mostly confused. A friend? Hadn't Taylor been some kind of social pariah before her trigger? Who was this girl that she felt comfortable sharing secret identities with her?

Then she looked between them, at their damp hair and the way the redhead was standing close to the taller, dark-haired girl, and it clicked. She immediately started grinning. "Oh. Ohohohoho. I see how it is, you sly bitch. You like 'em soft and curvy, don't ya?"

The way Emma blushed up to the roots of her hair as good as confirmed it.

Not that she was surprised. With how often Taylor had eyeballed her tits, Sherrel would have deepthroated her biggest wrench if the boss didn't swing both ways.

And she had some pretty big fucking wrenches.

"Sherrel…" Taylor said warningly, but she would not be denied her chance to tease the new girl. Taylor had developed an immunity far too fast!

"Very nice, very nice." She grinned, sauntering over and examining the redhead from head to toe. Awfully well developed for a… fifteen-year-old? Nothing compared to Sherrel's own thiccness of course, but that wasn't saying much – she'd yet to meet a woman with natural tits bigger than hers. Except for fatties, but they didn't count. "If you two need any help picking out toys to play with, then just come to Auntie Sherrel. I know all the sex shops in the city."

The blush intensified and it made Sherrel want to crow in victory. This one was going to be so much fun. Plus, Taylor really did need someone to help her relax or she'd end up redlining all day every day. Just looking at her work was exhausting.

Taylor shook her head with an exasperated sigh and turned to the new girl. "Sorry about her, Emma. Sherrel is an acquired taste."

"I can see that, but I think she's been good for you." Emma laughed awkwardly and turned to give Sherrel a look of earnest gratitude. "Thank you for helping build up Taylor's confidence again."

The Tinker was taken aback by the sincerity and had no idea how to deal with it. She was very much not used to anyone expressing gratitude to her, so instead of being a cool and sexy older woman she ended awkwardly scratching at the back of her head and mumbling. "Was the least I could do after all the boss lady's done for me."

Sherrel still cringed when she remembered what a piece of shit she'd been before Psyker straightened her out. Just another worthless whore doing whatever it took to get her next high, no different than her mother. Of course nobody had respected her – she hadn't even respected herself.

"Emma, why don't you go wait in my room for me?" Taylor suggested. "It's just up the stairs and to the right. I need to talk to Sherrel for a bit."

"Okay." Emma nodded and immediately did as she was told.

Once she was gone, Taylor took a deep breath and took the contact lenses out of her eyes, giving Sherrel the distinct feeling that there was more going on than just the boss lady bringing back a favorite squeeze.

"So, who is she really?" She asked.

"One of the three that caused my trigger event." Taylor replied evenly while putting on her glasses, almost making Sherrel stumble from the sheer whiplash.

"Uhhh…." She floundered for a response to that.

"It turns out that Shadow Stalker fucked with her head to make her turn on me in the first place. If she had the potential, she would have triggered for sure, if not because Sophia initially refused to help when the ABB were about to carve her up, then because of the self-destructive mindset she put Emma in."

"Shadow bitch really was a piece of work." Sherrel shook her head after digesting that bit of news. There weren't many parahumans out there that went around deliberately causing that kind of trauma, not after experiencing a trigger event themselves. Those that did were serious psychos. "She seems okay now, though."

"Yeah, seems." Taylor said, instantly drawing Sherrel's attention. Boss lady was very precise with her speech.

"She's not okay?" The Tinker questioned.

"The world became a terrifying place for her after the ABB attack, and Shadow Stalker made it worse by convincing her that everyone will hurt her unless she hurt them first." The younger parahuman shook her head. "She's spent two years internalizing that and using her ability to keep bullying me without consequence as proof that it was the right way of thinking. Then I came back to school as a parahuman to shatter her delusions, killed Shadow Stalker, and became the embodiment of all the demons in her mind. There was no safety left in the world from her point of view, except to appease me somehow."

"Well… shit." Sherrel really had no idea what else to say. That was fucked up. "So what did you do?"

"The only thing I could do." Taylor shrugged. "I took her pain just like I took your addiction, and made myself her world. She'll be bound to me forever, but she'll be able to feel safe again. It's for the best, really. She wouldn't have recovered on her own, no matter how much therapy she got and her family was failing to notice the problem."

"They're going to report her missing." Sherrel said, thinking through the situation. She'd never been very good at figuring out which action had what kind of consequence, but she was working on it. "Shadow Stalker died in your house, the PRT knows who you are, and we already went after Blackwell. If another one of the people responsible for your trigger disappears, they'll know it was you."

"Oh, Emma won't disappear." Taylor chuckled. "I'll be sending her home tomorrow. As far as anyone will know, all she did was spend the night at a friend's house."

Ah, Sherrel had been worried about nothing. The boss was on top of things, as always.

XXXXX

March 17th, 2011.

Taylor's dreams were always the same since she triggered. In her sleep, she saw the Empyrean. Sometimes, tiny ripples disturbed its placid surface before it returned to its mirror-smooth calm.

Since she had started throwing out psychic lifelines to people, she saw the light of their minds more clearly, sailing through the dark waters on their own, but still connected to her by their need.

There was another light amid in the dark now, this one closer and clearer. It orbited around her, tethered with an unbreakable bond. She could feel the happiness in the little spark's dreams as it floated in the corona of her own soul.

Taylor opened her eyes and looked down, seeing Emma cuddling up to her. They were both naked, as was to be expected after what they'd gotten up to last night.

How nostalgic. The redhead had always been a cuddler.

Taylor found herself satisfied with the situation. The Emma that had been her friend was long gone, wounded by ABB thugs and the finished off by Sophia. The mockery of Emma that had tormented her since then was also gone, lost alongside the false reality she'd lived in.

This new Emma would be completely hers. Nobody else would have any claim on her soul.

Not a return to their old friendship, the trust between them was too badly broken for that, and it was hard to have a true friendship with anyone when they only occupied only a tiny fraction of your attention. That was an issue she had with everyone these days. Even Sherrel was more of a favored minion than a friend.

Emma would be something else, something new. She would be happy and taken care of and no longer living in constant fear, which was exactly what she had gone looking for.

The inevitable teasing from Sherrel about having a love slave would just have to be borne.

She gave the sleeping redhead a gentle psychic nudge, drawing her out of her dreams. Green eyes fluttered open and a momentary confusion passed over her face, then she smiled brightly.

"Taylor, good morning!" Emma said softly, but happily, cuddling closer. "What are we doing today?"

"Morning." She returned the greeting more evenly, giving her a brief squeeze before disentangling herself. "I am going to be preparing for a raid against the ABB. You are going home."

"But I can help!" Emma insisted earnestly.

Taylor got out of the bed and stretched until her muscles burned, not holding back on a satisfied groan. She only replied once she was done. "I know you can, but I'm a villain, remember? They'll say I kidnapped you. And if you tell them that you want to be with me, they'll say I mastered you. I'd like to keep that kind of attention away for as long as possible. Don't worry, though. I'll call you back to me soon."

Emma sat up with a small pout, holding the sheet to her chest. "I guess… What should I tell my parents?"

A good question. Taylor pondered it as she continued stretching. It would be suspicious if Emma arrived home, suddenly a lot more put together than the previous day. It would require an explanation to be sure, something that would keep Alan and Zoe from calling the PRT with Master accusations. Even if she expected that genie to eventually escape the bottle, there was no need to help it along.

Mental iterations spun out, visualizing possible scenarios and discarding the unfeasible ones.

The crux of the matter was that her cape identity was paper thin. The random person on the street wouldn't know enough to put it together, but Alan Barnes had already known that Sophia Hess was Shadow Stalker, and he had already known that she and his daughter had bullied her, even as he denied it. She wasn't sure if he knew that she was no longer living with her dad, but it would take him very little effort to find out. He also knew that Sophia Hess had died after demanding her home address from Emma The PRT had not let the location of Sophia's death be released, but he would know. If Alan Barnes didn't already know she was Psyker, then it would take very little brainpower to figure it out.

Emma wouldn't be able to hide where she'd gone for long, then he would have another overprotective episode, the likes of which she had seen Emma exploiting in the past during the mind dive yesterday. This time, however, it would be a hindrance as he realized that there was a parahuman gang boss with a grudge against his daughter out there, and that Emma had gone to meet her.

So, a story where Emma revealed truthfully who she had gone to meet, and a plausible reason for why she was suddenly in a better state of mind.

"Confess the bullying to them, but say that the locker was all Sophia's doing and that she forced you to go along with it. Tell them you felt guilty afterwards and began drifting away from her. Tell them that you realized I was Psyker after Sophia tried to kill me and that the guilt of pushing me towards villainy was eating you alive. Add in something about your dad threatening to sue us into bankruptcy as well. Tell them that you couldn't bear it anymore and sought me out to apologize. Tell them that you found me and that after a whole lot of shouting and groveling, you were able to convince me to accept an apology and forgive you, but that I wasn't interested in renewing our friendship. By the time we were done it was already very late so I let you sleep over."

That should be about the right mix of truth and lies, as well as giving Alan Barnes an excuse to keep pretending that everything was okay. Thanks to the mind dive and numerous mental iterations analyzing his behavior, she had been able to come to the conclusion that Alan was overcompensating for failing to protect Emma in the alley. He would clutch at any straw that didn't invalidate his meager abilities in that regard.

It would also keep Zoe and Anne from seeking her out after learning everything. Awkwardness and shame would keep them away, or indifference if they were too shallow to feel shame about how their families had drifted apart. The refusal to renew the friendship would be a relief to them considering her villain status, as it would keep their daughter away.

Or so they thought. Taylor was already plotting a way to get regular access to her friend-turned-minion. Perhaps something that would also help finish off her revenge against the Trio? Madison still hadn't been punished properly for what she'd done.

"That could work." Emma nodded slowly, thinking about it. "Yeah, I can definitely get Daddy to lay off with that. I just need you to slap me."

New mental iterations immediately spun out to consider this. "Pardon?"

"I need you to slap me, hard enough to bruise and maybe bust up my lip a little." Emma elaborated. "It'll make the story more believable. They'll be upset about it, but I'll just tell them it was the least I deserved and to leave it alone."

She could immediately see the point. During such an emotionally charged confrontation, a little physical violence was more than expected from a villain. It would give the whole thing legitimacy and draw attention, further obfuscating the mastering. Emma was still as good at spinning a story as ever. Once the bane of her existence, the skill would now serve her. The thought was pleasing.

"Good idea." Taylor praised, getting a smile from the redhead.

Emma crawled out from under the covers and sat on her knees at the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "Okay, I'm ready."

Taylor gently laid her palm on Emma's cheek, smiling slightly when the redhead leaned into it, her mind glowing with happiness. She could sense the absolute trust, lust, and desire to please. Pulling her hand back, she swung hard, making sure that the heel of her palm impacted against the upper lip, with the rest of the palm creating a meaty smack against the cheek.

Emma cried out in pain and fell over, but the devotion in her mind didn't flicker for an instant.

Taylor was quick to pull her into a hug and make shushing noises as the redhead sniffled a bit from the pain, gently stroking her hair.

The pleasure she had felt at inflicting the minor injury was left to be analyzed in the background. Perhaps there was something to the suspicion that her powers made her enjoy even abstract things like sadism. It was a growing concern and something she would have to be very careful not to indulge in.

"Come on, let me see." She urged after the worst passed.

Emma sniffled again and backed up, taking her hand away from her face. She was bleeding from the mouth and already had a nasty red spot on her cheek that promised to turn into one hell of a bruise later.

"Did I hit you too hard?" Taylor asked, snatching the shirt that had ended up discarded on the ground last night and using it to dab at the blood.

"It's fine, I just don't like being hurt." Emma winced as she spoke, her eyes still a bit watery.

"I know, but you took that hit like a champion." The praise felt a little condescending, but she felt like she'd just kicked a puppy or something.

Lust flared in Emma's mind and her demeanor suddenly took on a coquettish cast. "Does that mean I get a reward?"

Taylor looked into hopeful green eyes and slowly offered the shirt to bite onto. Once it was taken, she pushed the redhead onto her back and spread her legs apart. The bruise would need a little time to settle anyway, and it could be a while before she'd get to play with her new minion again.

XXXXX

March 17th, 2011.

The pleasant distraction of Emma gone, Taylor was able to focus on preparing for the raid. In truth, there was little left to do except to make sure that everyone was ready, which they were.

It was the dead of night and the tinkertech APC stopped near the ABB brothel, hidden by its stealth generator. Sherrel was driving and Taylor was in the passenger seat. In the back were ten men, two of them old soldiers and the rest simply the fittest former hobos. Nearby was a much less tinkered up minibus, intended to carry off the prostitutes.

Taylor closed her eyes and focused on navigating the Empyrean that she was able to see more clearly with every passing day. She searched out the mind of her other parahuman minion and tried to speak to him directly. It was something she had been practicing as she got more control over her powers. At first, she could only see and taste the shape of their thoughts. Then she learned to give small nudges. Now…

-Lodestone, are you ready?-

There was a sense of surprise from the other end, even though she had warned him.

-Ready.- He sent back and she knew that he had to speak aloud to manage it.

-Then get going.- Taylor ordered, putting down the handheld radio, glad that she wouldn't have to rely on something so unsecure.

"Get ready, everyone. Lodestone is about to announce us." She verbally warned Sherrel and the men in the APC. They gave back tense acknowledgments, just as nervous as her. This was their first proper operation, after all.

A sewer cover in the alley near their target building slid away and sand began to pour upwards, coalescing into a twenty foot giant figure.

Sand, such an easily obtainable substance, and so useful. Individually light, easily moved, marvelous at absorbing shock, can be stiffened to resist blades, practically immune to physical force. How Larry had never thought to create his combat form out of pure sand had baffled her, especially as he knew that loose earth was one of the things he found easiest to control.

Lodestone put his sandy hands on the back wall of the ABB brothel, grasped it with his powers, and ripped the whole thing off. Shouts of alarm from the ABB gangers and screams of fear from the women immediately rang through the night. Gunshots followed, striking harmlessly against the giant sand monster.

Sherrel needed no further orders and slammed her foot down on the accelerator. The APC lurched forward at a speed and acceleration much higher than a normal APC could ever hope. They crashed right through the front door, the shield barely flickering as it dispersed the shock.

Taylor jumped out, crowbar in one hand and handgun in another. The men also streamed out and Sherrel backed up the empty APC, preparing it for the escape.

"Steady, boys." She said evenly, wrapping their nervous minds with her own. She was jittery too, but being able to focus precisely on controlling every part of her body and letting her doubts stew in a sectioned off cluster of mental iterations helped. "Remember to maintain trigger discipline. No killing unless they fire at us."

A few weeks of training did not make soldiers out of homeless bums, even if the other homeless bums doing the training had once been soldiers. Still, they were much better than anyone could have expected.

Too good, really. The ABB brothel was not a heavily fortified location swarming with alert, armed guards. Only two of the gangers on sight were even armed, the rest being 'busy' with the girls, and those two were quick to surrender when they saw what they were up against. The sight of Lodestone had already broken their courage before the rest of them even came up the stairs, as was the point. Normals had no business going up against Brutes without serious ordnance.

Taylor had overprepared because she didn't want anything going wrong on her first true act against the gangs. She kept the frown off her face as she considered this, stomping into some kind of lounge area where everyone had conveniently herded themselves.

She took in the situation with a glance. Fourteen women in various states of undress, most of them Asian, one a pale blonde in her late twenties that looked significantly more battered. The Asian girls were huddled together in small groups, while the blonde was all by herself. The ABB gangers were up against another wall, some still pulling on pants.

There was another room in the back, from where she could hear rapidfire shouting in Chinese through the door.

Reaching out for the women, she was unsurprised to find that all of them latched on to the psychic lifeline she offered. ABB brothels were not places where women sold their bodies for money, but where gang members in good standing could make use of them. It was an important distinction. They weren't drug addicts, but their spirits felt beaten down and wounded.

"Secure the men and take the women down to the minibus!" Taylor ordered and strode towards the back, where she had a feeling the manager of this place was calling for help.

She sensed his mind on the other side, saw it through the door, a cruel and evil thing, and knew that he was aiming a gun at the door. The Empyrean rippled in the wake of her mind as she reached out towards him, inflicting a powerful sense of paranoia upon him. It wasn't even hard, since he was already afraid.

-Behind you!- She whispered and felt him startle, spinning around.

Just as Taylor opened the door, her own gun already aimed at his legs. When he started spinning again to face her, she didn't hesitate to fire, sending him crashing to the ground with a new hole in his leg. The gun flew out of his hands from the shock.

She put her own gun away and approached with the crowbar in both hands.

"Stupid white bitch!" He spat out in an extremely thick Chinese accent, clutching at the wound. "Lung burn you alive!"

Deciding that his attitude needed correction and more than a little pissed off from what she had seen here with both her eyes and her mind, Taylor swung the crowbar down onto his knee. The howl of pain sounded much more appropriate and satisfying.

"I'm going to try to not enjoy this too much." She promised him, and brought the crowbar down again. His howls caressed her ears like the finest music. "But you're making it really hard."

She beat him until he was a terrified, broken wreck, only then did she dive into his mind. His spirit had been battered down along with his flesh, making it much easier to ransack his memories. To say nothing of how much her skill had increased since the encounter with Sophia.

His name was Zheng Jie, an underling of the local Chinese Triad boss, who was himself an underling of Lung. The ABB was comprised of multiple Asian gangs separated by national/racial lines and only held together by fear of Lung. They did not fight each other solely because doing so would get them burned.

Zheng had been born in China and was raised with the propaganda of the Chinese Union Imperial. He believed in the manifest destiny of the Chinese people to rule the world and felt nothing but contempt for all non-Chinese. He had recently taken particular pleasure in raping and abusing the blonde woman Taylor had seen in the other room, whom he believed to be Empire.

That bit of information made her dig harder and deeper into his thoughts, not bothering to fight a smile as he screamed himself hoarse at the violation.

More information was pulled out of his rapidly fading mind. Schedules, habits, names, locations.

Another bit of information that fueled her rage flashed through her mind. The ABB didn't only deal in what was essentially slavery, they also had their fingers in the black market organ trade. Whether that was from the people killed in clashes with the Empire or from prostitutes that got too old, Zheng knew that there was at least one place in Brockton Bay where people were being carved up for their organs. He suspected there were more. It was the reason why there were no drugs on the premises – had to keep the organs healthy.

They did this because Lung didn't let them make business partnerships with other criminal organizations. The dragon had no peers, according to himself, which left the multiple gangs comprising the ABB with only local sources of income. Organs were the most profitable resource they had access to.

Taylor went from being unconcerned about the damage she was causing to deliberately tearing apart his mind. The amused sadism Zheng felt at this would allow for nothing else.

The last bit of information she pulled out of his fading mind was the memory of reporting their attack to his superior and asking for reinforcements. Oni Lee would be coming soon. It only took as long as it did because there was no direct line to the assassin. It had to go up the chain and only Lung could order him to move.

Taylor pulled out and stared down at the mindbroken soon-to-be corpse, bleeding from the eyes with an expression of utter horror on his face, his arms and legs shattered wrecks. The Empyrean was already swallowing his violated soul, rippling with agitation in the wake of her psychic assault.

And I still can't feel bad about it.

Not after the things she had seen in his mind, not after tasting the contempt he had for others and the glee with which he abused every scrap of power he had.

She turned around and went back to the lounge room.

There she was greeted with the irritating sight of her men stealing wallets, loose cash, and anything else that looked valuable. Clearly they still had their hobo instincts fully intact. At least they had used the plastic zip-ties to secure the gang members first, whom looked more than a little terrified at hearing their boss screaming. Taylor was sorely tempted to murder these men too, as they were also guilty of rape as far as she was concerned. Only the lack of time and knowledge that she could punish them in the future, once Brockton Bay was under her control, allowed her to resist the urge.

"Get moving, we have Oni Lee incoming." She ordered.

-Lodestone, retreat.- She sent to Larry as well, his part of the job done. –And good job.-

-Thanks, Boss.- He said back, full of pride, and started pouring himself back into the sewers. It wasn't the most dignified transport method, but it was safe and discreet.

Taylor followed behind her men as they filed into the APC that Sherrel had turned around while they were inside, noting that the minibus with the prostitutes had already left. Seeing that everything was in order, reentered the APC and slammed the door shut.

"Drive." She ordered curtly.

"Booyah, we fucked them up!" Sherrel cheered, doing as she was told.

"It's not over yet." Taylor replied, keeping a wary eye on the surrounding rooftops.

"Relax, we've got the stealth generator running. Even if Oni Lee shows up, he won't see shit." The Tinker dismissed.

The overconfidence grated on her, but it turned out to be well earned. Nothing accosted them as they drove away, although Lung was sure to want to retaliate. The thought was more exciting than scary.

A good ten minutes later they pulled into an abandoned part of the Trainyard, on the border with the Boat Graveyard. The ABB prostitutes slowly exited the minibus, wrapped up in thick blankets both to ward away the cold and simply for comfort.

"Apologies for the rough handling." Taylor addressed them. "I am Psyker and I lead the Black Hand. You were taken because I will not tolerate the ABB's continued existence in my city, but that does not mean you will be harmed."

The prostitutes just shuffled in place silently for the most part. They were simply so beaten down that they had no will to resist and her psychic touch made them feel as if obeying her was the right thing to do. The blonde maybe-Empire woman was both the most afraid and the most hopeful.

"You have several options available to you from this point on." She continued her pitch. "If you wish to continue working as prostitutes, then you may do so in my employ. If you have families you wish to return to, then I can arrange it. And if you wish to leave the city to start a new life elsewhere, you will be provided with enough money to do so."

Taylor hoped that most of them would choose to get out of prostitution. She already had far too many women in that profession to look after, and there seemed to be more popping up as word got around that she was some kind of softy about it. Sherrel had warned her that being too nice would just mean more women signing up as whores, hoping to exploit her generosity, but she wasn't going to be a bitch just to scare them away.

"Temporary accommodations have been arranged for you." She wound down the speech. "Sleep on it and think about it. We can speak in more detail tomorrow."

Temporary accommodations that would be abandoned for a time afterwards, just in case. She wasn't planning to give Lung a chance to react, but there was no sense in taking pointless risks.

That done, the prostitutes were shuffled back into the minibus and driven off.

"Good work today, boys." She praised, getting a small cheer from them. Just like with Larry, she saw how proud they were and it made her smile under her mask. It was nice having loyal minions. "Take us home, Sherrel."

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