The video playing out on screen made Samuel Bedford feel like he was rapidly aging. Rarely was there a client who didn’t care about evidence, never had he seen a client that promoted it. A brief pause in the drumming music allowed them to hear his client order someone off camera to throw her, then seconds later as bass dropped as the light that was Purity winked out, accompanying jagged red text saying ‘Lights Out!’.

  “You certainly know how to put on a show,” Samuel said dryly, giving Lia a look. She crossed her arms, and he noticed her knuckles were bruised.

  “That wasn’t me,” she said petulantly. He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “In fact I specifically said not to share that video.”

  “So you knew about it,” he said flatly.

  “Not until a while after I hit the ground,” Lia retorted. “And again, told them not to fucking share it, for whatever that was worth.”

  “Apparently not a lot,” he sighed. “Though I suppose it wouldn’t really matter anyway.” Her frown deepened.

  “What do you mean?”

  Samuel clicked over to the next tab in his browser and hit play. Twisting lasers lanced down from the sky in eerie silence, answered by deep-throated machine gun fire and vibrant red tracers. He selected another one from a bit further away on a hillside, the gunfire a dull, constant booming. From a distance it looked more like a lightshow than a fire fight.

  And then there were the news clips. Amaranth’s name was everywhere, calling her the newest gang leader in the city, an echo of Skitter’s reign of terror, and a crazed villain. Every second of footage Samuel showed made Lia sink deeper in her seat. He sighed and decided to give her a little break.

  “It’s not all bad,” Samuel said, shutting the lid. “That ‘Light’s Out’ thing is spreading like wildfire on the net.”

  “That sounds pretty bad,” Lia muttered, downcast.

  “Ehh, not so much with the response,” he said with a shrug. “Lot of people saying it’s a long time coming, even if they don’t necessarily agree with your...methods.”

  “Cool so I have weird fans,” she grumbled. “So do the Slaughterhouse Nine.”

  “You’re not nearly so bad, just a bit of an overly violent vigilante,” he replied. “Hell Purity even had a bounty after that business last spring, legally you’re in the clear for her. But you need to keep a low profile, kid. Your business isn’t show business.”

  “I know,” Lia sighed. “And believe me, I don’t want the attention.”

  “Glad we’re on the same page there.” He smiled and pulled out some forms from a drawer, getting a quizzical look from his client. “Like I said, Purity had a bounty. I assume you and yours still need to get paid?”

  “No way the PRT will pay,” she said.

  “You’re right, they won’t,” Samuel said, chuckling. “But the US government will. Let me give you a hand with these…”

  “Your service is appreciated,” the suited state attorney said, holding out a small attaché case. “However in the future, you’ll be expected to follow the law.”

  “Sure thing,” Amaranth said with a shrug, reaching out and taking the case. Samuel offered Lia a tight grin.

  “All accounted for?” he asked his client.

  “Who cares?” she retorted. “Let’s get out of here, I don’t like being outnumbered and outgunned.” She glared at the squad of PRT officers on far away.

  “We don’t arrest people collecting bounties of villains,” the state attorney said. “Discourages people to go after them. In the future...well, keep your nose clean.”

  “Mm,” Lia grunted, turning around and heading back to the car.

  Samuel followed with a quiet sigh. Amaranth wasn’t the first cape he’d handled these sorts of things for. He’d only told her the one story, but it was just one of near half a dozen. She was a lot younger, in some ways easier to handle, in many completely impossible. It was her apathy to consequences that bugged him the most though.

  The girl had one goal: wiping out the Nazi gangs of Brockton Bay. She wasn’t the first to try, wouldn’t be the last to fail. Samuel was just hopeful he could keep her out of the Birdcage and try to get her into an asylum instead. She wasn’t talking about it, and she’d never forgive him saying, but she was way out of her depth and it was clearly getting to her.

  He just wished she’d acknowledge the issues it was causing, at least. Gang violence was on the rise in Brockton Bay, close to where it had been just after the Leviathan disaster. It wasn’t just the parahumans either, the way cape gangs were taking losses opened it up for regular people to take parts of the streets back for themselves. Of course that meant plenty of clashes between the newcomers as they jockeyed for the void left by Lia’s band of…

  God, what did Samuel even call them? ‘Gangsters’ wasn’t quite right, since they didn’t engage in the usual criminal activity reserved for gangs. ‘Mercenaries’ wasn’t accurate either, and he was pretty sure Lia would be insulted by the comparison. ‘Soldiers’...yeah, maybe that was right, as much as it made his skin crawl.

  “Hmm,” Lia grunted as they drove back to Samuel’s office. “Shortchanged.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Told you to count it,” Samuel said simply.

  “They charged me for the property damage,” she added, sounding mildly disgusted. “Of course, god knows I was the one firing lasers into houses.”

  “Well, from their perspective, you could have backed off,” he replied, keeping his tone easy. “They included the bill?”

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “Still got a little over a hundred grand, enough to pay my people, buy a few new guns...a car.” Her bottom lip jutted out and she rubbed her eyes, looking half her age for a moment. “God this is expensive.”

  “Your funds doing okay?” he asked gently.

  “Yeah, got plenty,” Lia said. “Feels like I won’t for long, at this rate. Lost two guns the other night, Z had to get rid of his car, it’s just…” She pressed her palms hard against her eyes and held her breath for longer than he’d consider safe. Finally she let it out slowly, nodding. “It’s fine, we’ll live.”

  “Never had any doubt in that,” Samuel said. “You don’t need to worry about your offshore account if you don’t touch it though, interest always outstrips the fees, especially with how much you’ve got in there.”

  “Spectacular,” she said dryly. They drove up the street quietly for a few minutes, then Lia shifted in her seat, an uncomfortable look on her face. “Um, Samuel… Am I a bad person?” He pursed his lips, giving her a side eye.

  “Legally speaking?” She snorted and shook her head. “I’m not the right person to ask about that one, considering my clients.”

  “Then compared to them?”

  “You…” Samuel sighed. “You have a lot fewer murder charges than most of them. If you’re looking for someone to vindicate you though, you’re looking in the wrong place. My job is thinking about the worst case of you getting arrested. That said, your crimes are a little more...nuanced than a lot of villains.”

  “So I am a villain,” Lia muttered.

  “Any parahuman committing repeated violations of the law gets the label,” he said. “Don’t put too much weight on it.”

  “Seems pretty fucking important,” she snapped.

  “Less than you’d think.” Less than one would hope, really.

  “Yeah? They’re just threatening me with the Birdcage for fun?”

  “No, they’re doing that to scare you straight,” Samuel countered. “But, and I don’t mean this to be shitty kid, you tend to react to that by pushing back harder.”

  “Yeah, well, what else should I do? Give up?” She made a face of disgust. “Rather die.”

  “Well, most villains operate...how should I say this, clandestinely.” She cocked her head. “Under the radar, quiet, not making quite the mess of things you do. And they don’t call the cops to taunt them.”

  “I don’t do it to taunt them,” Lia spat. “I do it because they want to stick their noses into my business, and because they insist that they’re the only authority worth a damn even when they aren’t doing anything. I don’t— I just want them to get it.”

  “I hate to say it Lia, but cut your losses,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to tell you to stop, because frankly it’s hard to disagree with what you’re doing.”

  “Didn’t you defend my mom?” she asked coldly.

  “Sure did,” he said with a shrug. “How do you think I came to that conclusion?”

  “I...fair enough.” She sighed and stared out the window. “I’m scared.”

  “Scared of the Birdcage?”

  “Scared of what my friends will think.”

  “Mm.” Samuel nodded slowly. “It’s okay to be scared, you know?”

  “I know it’s okay,” Lia muttered as he turned onto the rough street she called home. “Doesn’t mean I like it.”

  “Doing alright besides that?” he asked, pulling over outside a home riddled with bullet holes. “You uh, you’re fine living here?”

  “Oh, yeah, this is great,” she scoffed. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but believe me, it’s home. My guys live all around this block, probably the safest place in the city for us. If the Nazis walk in here, they’re not walking out.”

  “Well, alright,” Samuel replied. He certainly wasn’t sticking around. “Good luck out there Lia. And may I recommend writing my number somewhere on your body before you go out again?”

  “Got it memorized,” Lia said dryly, tapping her forehead. “It’s one of very few things I’m probably never going to forget, if only because I talk to you way too much.”

  “Better than not enough,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”

  She nodded and got out of the car, leaving a few bands of bills behind. Samuel grinned and shook his head as he pulled away from the curb and started heading back to the office. At least he didn’t have to chase her for payments.

  “I’m heading out now Mr. Bedford,” Jaya said, poking into his office. “Anything before I go?”

  “Nope, get home safe,” Samuel replied, offering a smile and a wave.

  The door shut quietly and he sighed, saving the document he’d been working on before shutting off his computer. Too many late nights lately, he’d promise himself a break. Tonight he was hitting the mob bar on 29th, seeing some old friends. Old clients, technically, but long retired from the game.

  Damn, it had really all gone pear shaped right out the gate. Two years as a public defender had destroyed any love he had for the profession, but it had also connected him with the seedy underbelly that would probably double the bay’s economy were it counted. The Barcara Family had kept him in business when he floated his own firm, and soon he was their premier attorney; at least, until parahumans began taking over.

  Samuel rose and stretched his back, wincing as his spine popped like popcorn. Probably needed to listen to his doctor and adopted a stretching routine, but where would he find the time? As he was packing up his briefcase, the phone on his desk rang. He sighed and shut his tired eyes, pausing to massage the bridge of his nose before picking up the handset.

  “Bedford Attorneys, this is Samuel Bedford speaking,” Samuel answered with as much energy as he could. “Our offices are just closing unfortunately, if you could call back in the morning—”

  “This is Corporal Ralph Sanders, Brockton Bay Serious Incident Unit,” a clipped voice cut him off. “You’re the same Samuel Bedford who represents the villain Amaranth?”

  “Oh, good evening officer,” he said, a tight grimace of a smile marring his face. “I was under the impression she was a vigilante, given her cooperation with the PRT and BBPD.”

  “I have some questions regarding an incident that occurred two nights ago,” the officer said, not entertaining the bait. “The one that led to the death of another villain, Purity.”

  “You’d be better asking her,” Samuel said. “If you’d like I can arrange a time for her to come in and answer questions, with attending counsel of course.”

  “No need,” the cop said tersely. “Unless there’s an indictment.”

  “Is this a warrant or a threat, officer?”

  “It’s the state of things,” the man replied frustratingly. “Your client is a person of interest regarding another murder that took place that night of one James Whitman, a gang member affiliated with Werwolf.” He resisted the urge to slam down the receiver. It was never just one.

  “Well my client has a fairly airtight alibi,” Samuel replied evenly. “Like you said, she was fighting Purity.”

  “Have you discussed any other incidents from that night?”

  “I’m not at liberty to disclose privileged information.” There was a beat of silence.

  “Good night, Mr. Bedford.”

  Samuel sighed as he set the phone back on the receiver, rubbing his eyes. Dammit, he really needed a drink now. Thank god he had a guy like Ralph in the police department, getting blindsided by a call from Lia at the station would have been a small nightmare; if only because he dreaded the damage she could do before finally being captured. He picked up the phone to dial the kid in question, then sighed and set it back down.

  Tomorrow, he could give himself that much of a break at least.