"Morning," Stella sang as I unlocked and opened my bedroom door to the smell of only slightly burnt pancakes.
I didn’t have pancake mix, and I was pretty sure I didn’t even have milk for her to make them from scratch.
"How did you make pancakes?" I grumbled, tapping a little chemical energy into my body and speeding up my mind.
"I went to the store," she said, coming over to the table with a fat stack of pancakes and putting them down next to syrup, which was also foreign to my home.
None of these were burnt. I had to imagine that there were a few failed first attempts in the trash.
I squinted at her, wondering where she got the money.
"Did you take my wallet?"
"Why would I need that?" Her brow pressed down in confusion.
"To pay for the pancake mix?"
"I — uh—" she stalled, and her face shifted to a look of horror.
"I’m not used to paying for groceries. Usually people are pretty distracted, dying around me and all. So I try to keep moving," she finally admitted.
I slapped my palm against my forehead hard enough to rattle the silverware on the table.
"So, right before you talk to the BSH, you decided to go and steal pancake mix and syrup."
"And orange juice," she added.
"That makes all the difference," I said sarcastically.
She winced.
"I fucked up."
"Yes, you fucked up. No stealing, rule number three." I laid down even more rules for her.
But I had to admit, the pancakes were tempting.
"But I appreciate the effort. I’ll eat these and then we’ll call the Bureau."
I tried to pretend like I was doing her a favor, but damn, the pancakes smelled delicious.
Stella nodded her head obediently.
Her emotional intelligence was pretty keen, but her situational intelligence left me unimpressed.
I grunted as I ate the first bite of pancakes.
They melted in my mouth, and I had to suppress a groan.
I looked up, and something told me she’d read the look on my face as she smiled, pleased with herself.
Finishing quickly, I went to find my pants from the night before.
They had the number to call at the BSH.
I dialed it into my phone.
It rang four times, and I was worried no one was going to pick up.
"Bureau of Superheroes tip line. If you are calling about the lockdown, I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but it is necessary to ensure the safety of our citizens. Your safety is always our number one priority. This is Marge. How can I help?"
The woman was clearly on autopilot, and she sounded battered.
I had a feeling public opinion on the lockdown must be harsh.
"Uh. I’m not calling about the lockdown, I’m calling about a bounty."
"Great!" She perked up.
"Which bounty?"
"New one, for a call from Demon?"
"Do you have him there?" Marge asked.
"Her. Demon is a Demoness," I clarified.
"And yes, I have her here."
"One moment then." Marge went quiet on the line.
About ten seconds later, a tired Kim came on the line.
"Hello, is this Demon?"
Not about to talk to her, I handed the phone to Stella, who juggled it in surprise.
"Uh, hello?" she said tentatively.
There was squeaking on the other end of the phone, and I didn’t bother trying to listen in.
I listened as Stella replied ’no’ to some questions, ’yes’ to others, and then ’absolutely not’ to a final one.
And she was clearly growing angry at the most recent questions.
"Yes, one." She looked at me when she answered the last bit, as if it involved me.
"Yes, we can do that. I’ll see you shortly." Stella ended the call and handed me back my phone.
I had picked up on the use of ’we’ in her latest answer.
Stella added, "We’re supposed to meet them in Rogers Park in half an hour."
"We?" I frowned as I drank the last of the orange juice.
"Pretty sure you are the one that is a super."
Stella’s face turned disappointed.
"You said you would help me with this."
I paused with the orange juice halfway to my mouth, replaying my words to her back in the manor.
And I realized that I had indeed said I’d help.
I cursed, taking another swig of orange juice.
"Fine. We need to get going if we are going to make it in time." I pushed off the table and grabbed my shoes.
Stella bounced excitedly and followed suit, getting on a pair of cute booties that I didn’t remember her having the night before and I definitely did not own.
She looked up, catching me watching her shoes, and she smiled sheepishly.
---
Rogers Park was the dead center of the city; it was a sprawling park roughly in the shape of a figure eight.
Normally it was busy with office goers out and about, trying to get some sunshine and fresh air as they talked on their phone.
But that’s not what it looked like today.
Military uniforms dotted the park, and several large command tents were set up, along with another hanging a large red cross.
It was a field hospital if I had to guess.
Which was a little funny.
Something told me that the bactimen were not following the Maldives Hero Convention.
They’d attack anything in their path.
And countries had their own issues internally that kept them from fighting with each other now.
No one could even live outside the cities with the number of monsters that thrived in what used to be rural areas of the country.
We may have threats like the bactimen, but we also had the manpower to combat them.
Outside the city, it was rough.
"Excuse me. We are supposed to meet Kim Smith." I grabbed the nearest person who looked to be more than a grunt.
"Name?" She pulled out her phone.
"Demon," I told her.
She gave me an odd look and then appraised Stella.
As she took in the black horns curling over Stella’s head and the spaded tail that flit between her legs, she seemed to back off.
Her phone chimed after a second.
"Okay, head to that big tent there in the middle. You’ll see Kim." She hurried off to whatever her task had been, but she gave us a little more respect after that text.
"You heard her, to the tent." I pushed forward, happy to move along and be done with all the nonsense.
Heroes stepped out of the tent as we walked up, splitting up and taking off into the sky on whatever mission they had been assigned.
"Zayn." Kim caught me as I stepped around the heroes and pulled back the flap.
"What are you doing here?"