H.E.R.O.: Malice

By Kevin Rau

Celestia, a new super from Rikesville, travels to Metrocity as she is lured by her interest in the Goth-like Razorwing. She becomes entangled in an attempt to capture and eliminate the powers of supers by a group of cybernetic soldiers.

Sparks is given a lead on a new bounty - one of the Goth mutants in Metrocity named Sharae. Black Tiger becomes involved, as do many of the heroes from the H.E.R.O. series as war breaks out between the cybernetic mercenaries and the Goths. In the midst of the action, Razorwing unveils the Overlook, his new command center for a group of the H.E.R.O. agents he has found to be group-friendly.

H.E.R.O. - Malice is the 12th book of the ongoing H.E.R.O. series, and is approximately 103,000 words long.

Check out the entire H.E.R.O. series!
H.E.R.O. – Metamorphosis (1) This full book is FREE on most e-retailers!
H.E.R.O. - New Markets (2)
H.E.R.O. - Rise and Fall (3)
H.E.R.O. - Dark Research (4)
H.E.R.O. - Horde (5)
H.E.R.O. - Paragon (6)
H.E.R.O. - Illustrated Guide
H.E.R.O. Shorts – Gatecrasher (7)
H.E.R.O. Shorts – Silverlash (8)
H.E.R.O. - Gene Front (9)
H.E.R.O. - Incursion (10)
H.E.R.O. - Dolldrum (11)
H.E.R.O. - Malice (12)
H.E.R.O. – Dark Breach (13)
H.E.R.O. – Nightmonger (14)
H.E.R.O. – Battlefronts (15)
H.E.R.O. – Riftguard (16)
H.E.R.O. – Augments (17)
H.E.R.O. – Summoned (18)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kevin Rau
• Release date: Mar 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310821592

Kevin Rau

Born in 1970, I've been interested in fantasy and science fiction since perhaps the age of 10. I believe my love of medieval knights came about when my father built a wooden shield and sword for me to use in elementary school for some event.Through my school years I read hundreds (or thousands? - it's hard to recall at this point) of fantasy and science fiction novels. Comic books and super heroes came a bit later, although I recall seeing the Christopher Reeve Superman movies at a very young age (and loving them). Since my later teens I believe I've watched nearly every major fantasy, science fiction, and super-hero movie that has come out.I still love reading fantasy and science fiction, although I wish there were more novels based on superheroes. This is something that drove me to create my own supers universe and heroes in written form. I love supers, but I've always wanted more character depth than a comic book can provide. (Not to mention the immense length of time it takes for a comic series to do a story is just plain too long to me.)Writing is a hobby for me, I'm a full-time computer programmer and systems administrator for a small company. Fortunately the skills I've learned allow me to work with 3D programs to render the characters (and covers) for my books. My hope is to put out a novel or two a year, time allowing. At this point I'd like to grow the H.E.R.O. Universe with more novels, as well as start a fantasy series at some point.

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Metamorphosis

Celestia's Viewpoint

In the town of Rikesville, over one hundred miles southwest of Metrocity, and weeks before the Kurcet invasion...

I sat with my chin in my hands, fingertips occasionally playing with my glasses as I stared at the vampire slaying kit. My eyes roamed over the items in the case, two sharp wooden spikes, a silver cross, two glass vials for holy water, and a vial of liquid that absorbed light and glowed in the dark. I wondered how they made a liquid capable of doing that hundreds of years in the past, shrugged, and figured some inventor was screwed out of a great invention that predated light bulbs.

I had just finished cleaning the kit again, for it was my favorite item in my grandfather’s antique store. I looked up at the old round clock hanging over the door … 4:50 P.M. The seconds moved interminably slow as I waited to close the store on this boring Saturday. I imagined I was a vampire from one of my favorite paranormal romance novels, living in high speed as the second hand movement seemingly crawled slower and slower.

Finally, I put the case back in its spot on the shelf and looked at my reflection in the mirror behind the glass shelves. My hair was straight, brown, and it hung down just past my chin. One lock on the right of my face was faded pink. I needed to re-do the color on that soon. My eyes appeared oversized behind the large glasses, but at least they pulled some attention from my round face. I drew back my shoulders; I had a habit of slouching. I smiled at the vampire and maiden on my t-shirt, and then frowned at how the shirt hugged my less-than-ideal figure. I stuck my tongue out at myself for a moment, grabbed my purse, and went to lock the front door. I tested the door by pulling on it a couple of times, flipped the sign to ‘Closed’ and left through the rear entrance of the building.

My stomach rumbled, and I drove the old hatchback to the nearest Coffee Corner. It was a nice little coffee and sandwich shop, not overly busy at this hour on the weekend, for only two cars were parked in front. I entered and smiled at Brian, the thin brunette guy behind the counter.

He grinned at me and asked, Howdy, Cel. What’s on your mind for your mouth?

I bounced my head back and forth for a moment, pushed my glasses up, and perused the menu, Does the mind rule, or does the mouth today… Hmm. I’m hungry. Gimme a chicken salad and a chocolate caramel mocha – large – I need my caffeine. Oh, and a cookie.

He nodded, made the coffee and grabbed the cookie with tongs. My mouth watered as he slid it onto a small plate and brought it to the register. You want the cookie before I make the salad? You’ll eat it first, you know.

I smiled. Yes, I will. I’m cool with that. Gramps always says to eat dessert first to make sure you have room.

Wise man, that old guy.

Yup.

Nine forty three, then.

I wrinkled my nose at the amount, but knew that I had saved money by skipping lunch. I took my wallet out of my purse and paid for it. He gave me change back and I dropped it into the tip jar.

He smiled, Thanks. I’ll bring your salad over in a sec. The usual?

I nodded, causing my hair to swing forward on each side of my face, and took the food to a table in the corner, away from the two men sitting at one table in the center, and the couple in the far corner.

I pulled out my e-reader before getting started. I’d been waiting all day to continue the story, as the hot vampire was just captured by a group of religious zealots, and his love interest was about to sneak in and rescue him. The device jumped right to the last spot in the romance novel I had been reading and I dug into the story.

I sipped on the mocha as I read and Brian brought over the giant salad I had ordered. I thanked him and he returned to the counter. I was focused on the e-reader, and just as the woman busted into the church to rescue her vampire in the story, a muffled explosion went off in the distance. I glanced up, but quickly returned to my reading. The story had a lot of gunplay and melee, and more explosions went off. It was almost as if our small town was trying to mimic my story. This time they sounded closer.

The pain struck about then. My blood felt like it lit on fire and I felt like an alien was pushing its way out of my ribcage on my back. I was paralyzed with pain and failed even to scream, although I fell to the ground next to the table, e-reader in hand.

My skin crawled with the sensation of bugs all over me, and in addition to the feeling of fire in my blood, it was as if worms dug their way all over my insides. All the while, it felt to me as if the aliens continued to pour forth from my shoulder blades. I retched and fell unconscious from the pain.

When I awoke, I felt a sticky wetness beneath my side. My legs were sore, as were my arms ... and my other arms. Other arms? My eyes flew open and I looked at my side. The room was unusually bright, and I blinked a few times at the bright mass of colors next to me. After a few seconds, my vision cleared and I found myself staring off to my right at a huge rainbow wing. I jerked my head away from it and the wing moved as well.

I scrambled back, watching the wing the entire time, and it moved with me. It was then that I realized the wing was attached to my back. It was bloody, as was my bare shoulder.

I said, What the hell? My shirt and bra appeared to have been shredded by the wing, likely as it emerged from my back.

A man said, Hey, are you all right?

I glanced up and left and one of the men from another table stood over me. One hand was on his waist, and he was bent over, as he reached out and touched my left shoulder.

I jerked back to my right, grabbed the remains of my shirt and held it against my chest as I said, What ... what happened?

Another man, the one that had been sitting with the first said, Dude, you just changed into a superhero.

Brian said, Guys, please, give her some room. She didn't become a superhero. She became a super. There's a difference.

How's that?

One performs heroic deeds; the other just has powers and such.

Holy moly. I'm a super? I looked at my arms. They were leaner, and I saw muscle on my arms, though they weren't bulky or anything. My hands were pretty much the same, though they showed the same loss of weight. I looked back to my right again, and tried moving what felt like an extra arm to me, and the wing moved. It was feathered, with the solid boney area a pinkish-red, then layers of blue, violet and green. Blood covered some of the feathers.

Brian stepped forward and asked, Hey, Cel, you okay? You still in pain?

I was more in shock than anything, but the pain was fading rapidly. I said, I, uh, I have a wing?

He pointed, You have two, actually. Very colorful.

I craned my neck around to look behind my left shoulder, and sure enough, there was a second wing. Looking down gave me a good view of the floor and the pool of blood I lay upon. I scrambled to my feet, still holding my shirt against me. Who ... is that my blood?

Brian replied, Yeah. Your wings kind of blew out of your back, tore up your shirt, and you bled all over. Like I was saying, you need a painkiller or something?

I shook my head, The pain is fading. I think I'll be fine. Then I noticed the bare side of my abdomen. It was shapely ... and not fat anymore. Oh my god, will you look at this? I poked my side a few times. It was definitely me, but now I was in great shape, as if I was some kind of fitness buff or such.

Yeah, you're looking trim. You really changed. Can I touch your wing?

I scowled at the hidden insult that I was fat before. No. I looked around for a mirror, but the main room of the cafe didn't have one. I then quickly walked to the restroom. I felt my jeans hanging loose on my hips, where they had been snug before.

When I entered the restroom, I stared at myself in the mirror. It was as if I had taken a super fat loss pill, and my face, sides, and arms were trim and tight. I set the remnants of the shirt on the side of the sink; at least my bust remained, and my abdomen was trim, but not super muscled. When I touched my stomach, it felt very firm, and it was easy to feel individual muscles beneath.

My jeans hung loosely on my now-shapely hips. I must have lost three pant sizes in that short time period, as they were in danger of sliding past my butt to the floor.

The wings were huge and colorful. The room was too small to spread them out, but I turned back and forth, staring at them in the mirror. There was blood on them. I grabbed some towels, wet them, and tried to reach back, but the base stuck out of my lower shoulder blades, and I could not reach them. I scowled again, gave up, and wiped off my side, where I had been laying in the blood on the floor.

I forced a grin and leaned close to the mirror, with my lips wide open to view my teeth. They appeared normal, if nice and white. Then, I realized that I didn’t have my glasses on. Must have left them out on the floor. Oh my god, I can see without my glasses? My eyes were different, and I studied the weird rainbow effect on them. The multicolored appearance ran in rings from the innermost iris outward. My hair had a few strands of new hair of various colors as well.

The wings had torn apart my shirt when they grew. Looking at my profile from the side, I failed to see how I could wear a normal shirt at this point with them. They were far too large to push through a hole in a shirt, and it looked like any attempt would be a nightmarish attempt at contortion.

There was a knock at the door, and Brian asked, Hey, Cel, you need help? There's a lady out here ... Kim ... that says she'll come in and help if you need it.

I sighed and put my shirt against my chest with one hand. I didn't really want help, but I couldn't wash the blood off the wings on my own. Sure, send her in, I said.

The door opened, and the woman from the far table came in. My height certainly hadn’t changed; I was still only about 5’ tall. Her eyes immediately went up and behind me as the wings caught her focus. Uh, hi. Do you need anything? That guy gave me Excedrin if you are still in pain. She held up a packet in one hand.

I thought about it for a moment, but the pain had diminished to a point where I barely noticed it over the shock of the changes. I shook my head, No, thanks though. The pain's about gone. Can you help wipe the blood off these wings? I can't reach back there.

Sure. She pulled out some paper towels from the dispenser, wet them, and I turned my back to her, though I watched her in the mirror. She washed my back first, which was another area the lack of fat was now evident. Then she went with the feathers, from the base at my skin outward.

She changed paper towels numerous times. I found that her touch on my wings wasn't much different from someone touching my skin. She saw my quizzical expression and asked, Can you feel this? I mean, what's it like?

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, as I thought about it. They feel like arms to me. When I spread my, uh, fingers, they move. See? I spread the fingers on that arm, and the wings expanded until they hit the walls and ceiling of the tiny room. I closed them again, and noticed that my right wingtip had left a dent in the ceiling. It had not felt as though I hit it that hard.

I reached my right hand out and felt the feathers on the wing on that side. They felt like real feathers and were very soft. I was tempted to pluck one, but it seemed wrong to pluck my own feathers.

She said, You lost a lot of weight. How do you feel? For that matter, where did it all go?

I shrugged. Probably went into the wings. I mean, you can't grow something from nothing, right?

What about that hero in Metrocity, Big Man? He doubles his height.

Huh. I guess you're right.

Do you think you'll be able to fly?

Oh my god! I hadn't even thought of that yet. I don't know, I mean, my body isn't like a bird's. I don't have a tail to move around.

She smiled and looked at the top of the crack my butt showed due to the oversized jeans. You've got a tail, just not one with feathers. Looks like you lost a bunch of pant sizes. I wish I could go through this type of weight loss. Well, except for your screech and obvious pain before you blacked out.

How long was I out?

Ten minutes, maybe? We almost called the police, but what would they have done? Cut off your wings? That whole meteor shower thing is happening right now. I'm betting other people are changing like this too.

I missed that news. I don't watch TV much, and don't read the paper either.

How are you going to drive home? Didn't you drive in in that little hatchback?

I thought about the idea of crunching these wings into a compact card and cringed. Oh crud. You're right. These are big. Aw, snap.

She finished cleaning off the base of the wings, which were the bloodiest. You're about as good as you'll be without a shower or bath; it’s a good thing most of the blood ran off them. Why do you suppose your wings are rainbow, instead of white?

Beats me. Growing wings at all is pretty strange. I moved my wing fingers a little. I’m amazed I have such control over them.

Maybe you have other super powers now, too.

I guess it's possible. Only time will tell. I never paid too much attention to supers. I read more about vampires and stuff. Thanks for the help, by the way.

She stared at my back for a moment. Sure. I’m really jealous, you’ve got a killer shape now. Good luck with all this. You're going to get stared at a lot.

I suppose. These are too big to hide. I tried to pull them in against me, but while I could bend the arms in so they didn't stick out to the sides, the wings still went above my head before they bent and the far half went down by my knees.

I held the shirt against my chest and we left the room. The men had gathered together outside. They backed up a little to give us room to pass.

Brian held up a packet of painkillers, and I smiled and shook my head.

I said, I should get home.

He said, No, wait. Your salad got ruined, so let me make you a new one. You need to eat. I'd think that took something out of you.

My stomach growled, as if it heard him. I ... yeah, okay. It's getting darker, but I'd rather walk home in the dark.

Need a ride?

No. I don't think I'll fit in a car.

Oh. Yeah. He motioned toward a table. Sit. I'll make you a new one. He walked over to the counter and prepped another salad.

I smiled and walked over to the table I had been. I had knocked it over at some point, so I set it back to normal, picked up my purse and the other stuff and set them on a nearby table. My glasses were a few feet from the blood and icky mess.

I picked them up and put them on, but they made everything blurry. I took them back off and looked around the room. It was clear, better than when I had my glasses on even before the change. I shrugged and stuffed them into my purse, and then grabbed some paper towels to clean the floor.

Brian called over, Hey, leave the mess. I've got a bucket and mop. I'll clean up. You just went through enough.

I smiled a little and picked up my e-reader. The device was severely cracked, as if it had been smashed against the corner of something, yet the tables in the café were round. It would not turn on.

One of the men coughed and I looked over at him. He pointed at the reader and said, I heard it snap when you changed. You had it in your hand.

I raised an eyebrow. I’m not strong enough to do that. I squeezed the e-reader in one hand and heard the snap of plastic from the back. I turned it over and found that my fingers had put a big crack in the hard plastic backing. Wow. How? I set down the e-reader and flexed my fingers a few times, but they felt pretty much normal to me.

His friend said, You’re obviously a super now. Maybe you’re super strong.

Yay, that’s just what I wanted, the ability to break electronics with a single squeeze. I sighed. At least the books are all maintained out on their server, so I can download them all again, once I replace it…

If you are really strong, maybe your wings will be strong enough to fly you… He smiled as his eyes looked above me at the colorful feathered wings.

I carefully and slowly moved my right wing fingers. It was strange, feeling the extra pair of limbs, but they felt … natural. Extending the wing around and forward allowed me to study it much better than I had in the bathroom mirror. I wiggled the fingers at the end, and the wing flapped, causing a minor wind effect in the area.

I said, It’s pretty easy to move.

Brian came over to the table with a replacement drink and salad. I grinned up at him. Thank you. You didn’t have to replace that.

He puffed up a little and replied, I know, but you didn’t mean to spill them, and I know where you work…

He was right, my gramps did not exactly pay me much of a living wage, and with my college degree on hold until I earned more money, I was in a difficult situation.

He stood there uncomfortably for a few seconds, and then said, So, uh, can I touch your wing?

I smiled, extended the fingers of my left wing forward, and batted him with the end. He was knocked to the side so hard that he barely stayed upright. When he got his footing, he rubbed his right arm.

I said, Oh my god, I’m sorry! I just wanted to bat you with it.

He came back over to the table, still working on his arm. You’ve got some strength in that thing. It’s like the Timster hit me.

Timster was the nickname of Tim, a very large friend who worked for the city dump. He didn’t seem to know his own strength, and tended to knock the rest of us around with casual punches. I was glad he hit me less often than he hit the guys, but I sometimes wondered if my male friends had black and blue arms from the occasional hit by the brute. The way Brian squeezed and rubbed his arm, I knew my wing had hit him hard.

I carefully moved the fingers of my left wing out to him, and he ran the back of his fingers along them. I was surprised to have a good sense of touch on the feathers.

He stopped after a few seconds, and said, Very cool. They’re a lot like a bird’s … very soft. I’ll, uh, let you eat, then. I should get the mop out. He went to the back of the store to get his supplies, and I began eating.

It turned out that I was famished. I spent a lot of time staring at my wings, and extending and curling the giant fingers on the wing to see how well I could control them. They felt like giant hands, and I had a great deal of fine motor control over them, far better than I would have expected. I wondered if all birds could wiggle their wings.

Occasionally, I caught the eye of one of the three men and Kim. They had a tough time not staring at me, and I felt awkward between the wings, holding the remnants of my shirt against my chest, and eating like someone starving.

Brian went about mopping up the blood from the floor. I watched the red fluid on the floor, wondering what one of my vampire heroes would have done with so much blood out in the open. He finished, brought the bucket back to the storeroom to wash it out, and I finished the salad and mocha.

He came back out as I stood to throw away the trash. He asked, Anything else I can get for you?

I smiled slightly, No thanks. I should get home, shower, and figure out if I have any shirts I can wear with these things.

Lemme know if you need anything else, okay?

Sure. I dropped the trash in the bin, returned to the table to grab my purse and walked to the door. I waved with my purse hand to Kim, Thanks for the help.

She nodded. Good luck with those.

Thanks.

One of the men jumped up and beat me to the door, where he opened it ahead of me. I raised an eyebrow and nodded to him before walked past.

I realized when I reached my car that I never wanted to walk around with a torn-up shirt again. Using only one hand for everything was annoying at best. I set my purse down on the hood, took out my keys and unlocked the car, and then threw the purse into the car. It took a lot of twisting and turning to fit into the car, and I only managed it after I lowered the driver’s seat back to the maximum to allow my wings to spread into the back seat.

It probably wasn’t the safest way to drive, but I managed to drive the short distance home. I probably could have walked in the time it took me to get into the car and drive the distance in the small town.

Chapter 2 – Gawkers

Celestia’s Viewpoint

Although the drive home was brief, I discovered that I really hated being confined in the small space. I hadn’t minded that much before this, but something about having the wings, and being cramped in such a way as to not be able to get out quickly gave me a case of claustrophobia. Getting out of the hatchback was no more enjoyable than climbing into it, but after five minutes of contorting, I managed to escape the vehicle.

I saw lights flickering in the living room window and knew that Gramps would be sitting in his chair watching some old T.V. show. I gulped, wondering how he would react, walked up to the front door and entered.

I immediately turned to close and lock the front door, and heard him say, What in Sam Hill is on your back, young lady?

I turned to look at him. Hi Gramps. Uh, you know about that meteor shower happening tonight?

Of course I do. Got the Metrocity Times here talking all about it. Are you telling me you became one o’ them super types?

I nodded. I guess so.

What happened to your shirt? A young lady shouldn’t be walking about barely covered.

The wings sprouted and tore it apart. I need to see if I even have a shirt that will work with them.

What did that semester of college do for you? If your Grandma were still here, she’d just cut a shirt down the back and sew some buttons on one side. Simple stuff.

Oh. Yeah, that’s a great idea! I’ll go do that. Thanks, Gramps.

Come back out after you’re decent and we’ll talk about it. I’ll make you cocoa.

I smiled and nodded before walking to my bedroom. Gramps always made cocoa when I was upset, or when he wanted to put me at ease. He had a good idea about the shirt, but for the moment, I went to my room to change. I grabbed a bra to try on, but due to the weight loss around my torso, the band was too long, as were each of the others I tried. I threw the last down in disgust, cut a shirt down the back, and joined the sides with safety pins in back. Then, I returned to the living room.

Gramps came into the room with a large mug and handed it to me. A spoon stuck out of the top, and a pile of tiny marshmallows floated on top of the hot liquid.

He said, What happened?

I shrugged, I’m not sure. I closed up the store, went over to the café, and ate, or I was about to. I was in a lot of pain, like poison was in my blood stream or something, and my back felt like an alien was popping out.

What would a green-skinned Martian be doing in your back?

No, Gramps, I mean an alien, like one of the black things that have acid blood. You know, from the movies.

I don’t watch them vampire shows you like so much. Aliens have green skin, everyone knows that.

Uh, okay. Anyway, I blacked out for a while, and when I woke up, I had these wings.

Are they real?

What do you mean? I can touch them and move them. I slowly stretched forward one of the wings to him.

He touched a feather between two fingers. Soft. Kind of like an owl’s. Strange colors to have on a wing. What, did they still have out their Easter decorating paints, and you poured them on the wings?

I smiled. No. My eyes are rainbow colors too. Well, a little more on the pastel side, but still…

I’m not so blind that I don’t see that. Cripes, hit seventy and everyone thinks you go blind. You can apparently move them. What do they feel like?

Like arms or big hands. I sipped on the cocoa and closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the flavor.

How do you feel? Scared, excited?

Both, I guess. I don’t know what to expect now.

I expect that you’ll get a lot of folks staring at you. You’ve changed, now you have to decide what to do, if anything. You’re a big girl; you can choose what to do.

Thanks. For now, I think the only thing I’m going to do is to take a shower, and then do some reading on the computer. I made a sad face. I broke my e-reader when I changed.

That techno book thingy you always have in hand?

Yeah. I’ve got hundreds of books on it.

He stood up and motioned for me to approach, and he hugged me. Just know that I still love you. All we have is each other. I’ll get you a new one.

He stepped back slightly, with his hands still on my shoulders. He squeezed a few times and said, You feel pretty solid. Did you join a gym without me knowing, or did this happen when the wings grew?

I raised an eyebrow and looked at my arm. I didn’t join a gym.

He looked me up and down and said, You look trim. Whatever this did, it changed you all over.

They do say that supers are all really fit. If this happens to them all, then I guess it makes sense.

Huh. Well, you’re still my grandbaby. He turned and sat back down in his favorite recliner.

I drank the rest of the cocoa, and said, Okay, I want to shower and get in some reading tonight.

He snorted and smiled. He knew that I spent nearly all my free time reading. I went to my room, grabbed a change of clothes and took a long, hot shower. That turned out to be a chore until I grabbed the back scrubber brush and used that on the part of the wing I couldn’t reach. I was shocked to see my full body in the buff. I had never been fit, much less slim, and now everything felt very firm. I looked like I could do a commercial for a gym.

Then, I noticed the brown hair in the drain … lots of hair. I ran my fingers through my wet hair, and clumps of brown hair came out. My eyes nearly bugged out, and I opened the curtain to look in the mirror. My old hair was falling out, and colorful new hair had grown in its place. I took a few deep breaths as my heart raced. I spent more time shampooing my hair, until the brown hair no longer came out between my fingers, and the water turned cold. I wrinkled my nose at the clump of hair that clogged the drain a few times.

I