The empty beer bottle hit the glass tabletop hard with a dull thud. Lucian grabbed a tissue and wiped the beer that had dribbled onto his chin.
"He felt pretty tough," he assessed. "His bone density was a little higher than the average supe's. Took a little effort to hit him. But that was about it."
Annie froze for two seconds. Then she sank back against the sofa, slapping her thigh and laughing without a shred of decorum.
"You're still as infuriating as ever." She drained the half glass of beer left in her hand. "But nicely done. Congratulations, our new number one."
"Thanks." Lucian tossed the tissue into the trash.
Annie propped her chin on one hand, tapping her fingers against her cheek. The dim lighting in the private room fell on her blond hair, giving it a soft outline.
"I watched the whole thing." She leaned a little closer, visibly excited. "Honestly, that last punch was fucking awesome. Vought's PR department must be working through the night writing press releases for you."
She paused and shifted into a more comfortable position, crossing her legs.
"The Seven happen to be pretty shorthanded lately. Several of them are on extended leave. Once you officially report to Vought Tower, I'll put in a good word for you with Homelander. Having someone you know show you the ropes will make life a lot easier."
Homelander.
The name turned over in Lucian's mind. Having lost his source of maternal love, the guy was probably busy being a doting father to Ryan now. Getting involved at a time like this would just be asking for trouble.
"No need." Lucian dropped two ice cubes into his glass. "I'll just let things take their course."
Annie pursed her lips, clearly not very satisfied with that answer.