Nothing Super [COMPLETED]

Chapter 6 - "I'm not a harbinger of death."

Something squelched beneath Taylor's foot as she popped into the dark alley. Grimacing, she lifted her foot and placed it down somewhere safer. A thin veil of mist shrouded the air, blurring the edges of the street lamps further away.

The moisture soaked the open trash cans, heightening the rotten smell emanating from them. A hazy glow came from the bar's windows and the riotous sound of drunken laughter filled the night, despite the lateness of the hour.

Taylor picked her way around puddles of questionable substances towards one of the windows, hoping for a better look. It was her fifth stop that night, the previous four having been dead-ends in regards to Vincent. Collecting a layer of mist, she decided this would be her last attempt of locating the criminal for the night.

As she gripped the edge of the sill and rose to her tiptoes, she felt each muscle arguing against the action. The training session with Clint had left her sore from the repetitive sequence he had run her through.

Though the ache called for a departure from her endeavors and a good night's sleep, it was a satisfying feeling. It meant that her untrained muscles were learning. Still, she wished the endless loop of his voice would stop playing in her head: step, elbow, flip, step, elbow, flip. It was a song that had no rhythm but wouldn't be ejected.

When Taylor couldn't make out Vincent among the rowdy occupants, she stepped back, wondering if she should try to find a way inside that wouldn't expose her. As she was eyeing the building as if it would show her an in, a pair of rough, hairy arms encircled her.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" a rock salt voice said.

Taylor's mind froze, but her body didn't, reacting on instinct. She stomped on the man's foot and jabbed an elbow into his side. Gripping his arms, she bent over, leveraging her weight and flipped the man over her back. He hit the sodden ground with a grunt of pain.

In the illumination from the bar, Taylor could see the outline of his form. He was twice her size. She stared at him stunned at what she had done. Her heart hammered in her chest as adrenaline raced through her veins, making her feel more awake than she had in a while.

When he rolled to get up, Taylor moved. She vanished and reappeared on the bar's roof. She leaned over the brick ledge, watching the man. Her mind whirled from it all. The man rose and spun around, searching for her. Taylor crouched down, shaking with shock, fear, and elation. She was okay. Better than okay, she had managed to take down a guy twice her size. In that moment, all she wanted to do was tell Clint.

The reality that she couldn't dampened the moment. Still, she had done it. Below her the man swore and stomped back inside, slamming the door behind him. Taylor stood, checking that he was gone. Trying to slow her pounding heart, she contemplated her next step.  A shouted 'no' echoed from behind her making her heart jerk with fear.

She spun around, sending pebbles skittering with the motion. The rooftop lay empty except for a closed doorway and a skylight that jutted up from the floor. Letting out a shaky breath, Taylor crept forward, keeping low, cautious of disturbing more rocks. As she drew near, the smell of cigarette smoke filled her nose and she fought down a cough.

Holding her breath, she peered over the lip of the window. Below her was a long wooden table crowded with men all bearing the clubs tattoo. Some were tilted back in their chairs, cigarettes dangling out of their mouths, while others were bent over, studying the blueprint on the table. At the head stood a man with graying hair, though from his stance and build it showed that age had not beaten him yet.

Taylor surveyed the scene, her heart stuttering as one of the members lifted his head. It was Vincent.

She leaned in, straining to hear what was being said. The faint words slipped out of the crack, only some of them making sense. One sentence managed to come out clear, as the older man raised his voice, trying to draw the attention of the members that were further down and less attentive.