A Lover's Mercy

by Fiona Zedde

  Oh, so the cop was right. This isn’t a matter of a simple smash and grab: They want the politician to withhold his vote on something that matters to a lot of people in the city but means more to the corporations paying them. Didn’t they stop doing this kind of obvious intimidation in the thirties?

  Where is the man’s husband, anyway?

  Not that I actually care about where he is. The only person I care about is just about to do something stupid. Or, in her mind, “heroic.” She’s already talked to the people in charge. There’s some kind of plan in place.

  I hear her heartbeat. Her thoughts are focused. Through her eyes, I see everything: The house she crouches on top of. The cops waiting in darkness to do their part of the rescue mission. Her hands flex as power for her change floods her body with adrenaline that is like pain and pleasure both.

  Now.

  In a shower of multicolored glass, Mai bursts through the skylight with a snarl on her face and claws where fingers were moments before. Pieces of glass glitter around her as she lands in a crouch in front of the children, pulls them both to her, and throws her arms around them.

  Not the safest approach.

  With a rush of air, bat-like wings spring along her long arms and up her sides. The wings are a deep red and leatherlike, a match to her new skin, and are harder than steel. Without looking into her mind, I know she hasn’t tested them before, not against bullets. Stupid woman.

  Fear for her grips my throat tight.

  With this terror pushing me on, I’m out of the tree and leaping onto the front porch when I hear the bullets spit from the guns, aimed right at Mai and the children. Semi-automatic weapons. Armor-piercing rounds. My heart nearly stops.

  But the bullets bounce right off her skin like they’re made of rubber and shower around the room, some flying back into the idiots who fired them in the first place. Mai grunts in satisfaction, whirls around still with the children in her arms, lifts them, even heavy as they are, and sprints toward an adjoining room.

  As quickly as I got to the porch, I draw back, hiding again. Easily climbing up the roof, I crouch low to watch Mai’s rescue come together.

  Mai’s appearance and very impressive distraction give the cops lurking at the back door just enough of an opening to burst in. Five officers, all in black, with their guns out, shout for the men to surrender or die. Their radios are squawking with all kinds of chatter as they swarm the gunmen, armed with their shields, bulletproof vests, and pistols. Not bad. But Meta enforcers could have done much better. When we go in, we are silent as death, and with a threat like this, we leave death in our wake as well.

  None of these fools with guns would’ve survived to lie about who sent them. A roar breaks through the other noises in the house. The husband.

  “You assholes!” With the police there and the criminals distracted, he rises up, a volcanic mountain spitting fire, and rushes toward one of his armed attackers. One of the men spins with his gun ready and fires blindly, eyes narrowed with anger and adrenaline at the sudden futility of his position. Oh, it’s a woman. Her position, then.

  She’s bad enough at desperation to miss that massive target and hits the floor with a grunt, with a giant on top of her intent on murder.

  “You tried to kill my kids, I’m going to fucking murder you!”

  Gloved hands drag him off the woman before he can do more than shake her. “Who put you up to this?” Muscle Husband screams. “Who’s doing this to us?” Then he suddenly remembers something more important. “Where are my girls? Where are the kids?”

  The cops try to subdue him, and I’m impressed by how much effort it takes. Hopefully, the politician knows how lucky he is to have a partner like this. Or unlucky, if he’s the one behind this foolish move.

  Damn, why do I even care about this? Mai is the reason why I’m here, not to be amused by these people and their petty politics.

  To be fair, Meta politics isn’t too far removed from this. Only usually with more dead bodies and none of it ending up on the news.

  Okay, enough. Mai is somewhere around here. Ah, there she is.

  Safe. She hasn’t done anything more stupid than usual. Breath flows easily through my body, and although I’m fairly certain nothing else will happen tonight, I don’t lower my guard.

  In the dark, where no one can see, she heads toward her human cops. She has both girls in her arms, one on each hip. Her bat wings are gone. Her face is still masked, but she’s done something to it that makes her seem less frightening somehow. With a tenderness that’s completely like her, she hands over the girls to two of the human police she works with in secret. The girls are sobbing, tears striping their faces as they call for their father.

  Mai cups the cheek of each girl, one after the other, and leans in to say something to them. Miraculously, whatever she says works. They stop sobbing and fall into hiccups, staring at her with wide eyes and nodding like she’s Disneyland opened up to them all at once.

  I don’t care enough to eavesdrop on the conversation. Her body is whole and unharmed. No bullets pierced her precious skin. No knife slashed into her stubborn hide. That’s enough for me.

  With her new and stronger abilities, Mai thinks she’s nearly indestructible, but I know better than anyone how far from the truth that is. But she’s mine to protect, whether she knows about it or not, whether she likes it or not. A smile from Mai, and the girls both lean in to try and fall into her arms again. But she stills them both and tips her head toward the house where Muscle Papa is having a coronary about his missing children.

  The girls need to go back into the arms of the one they love. And Mai does, too.

  I watch while she finishes up with her police. Lurking, listening. Making sure the way she moves isn’t hiding an injury she doesn’t want anyone to notice.

  “Time for me to go back home,” she tells the detective with the scar above his eye and a look on his face that says he’d love to see her off the clock sometime.

  He’s not even worth the effort of being jealous.

  “Well, thank you for coming out on such notice. I know this isn’t your usual thing—”

  “My only usual thing is just helping people who aren’t able to help themselves. I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

  It looks like he’s going to say something else, but Mai’s attention is already elsewhere, wondering if I’m already asleep and if I am, how mad will I be if she wakes me up. The need on her face makes me want to be very awake when she gets back to the condo.

  “All right, take care of yourself now.” He’s obviously not taking his own advice since he allows his gaze to roam over Mai’s body. It’s a quick look, one she doesn’t catch.

  “All right, until next time.” Already, she’s walking away, her skin automatically changing to blend into the shadows.

  That’s my cue to leave.

  The roof tiles hold firm under my boots as I climb down, then silently drop to the ground two floors below to follow and then pass Mai on her path back home. If I’m lucky, the adrenaline will still be flowing hot and strong through her when she gets into the apartment, powerful enough to drain her reason and memory.

  If.

  If that’s the case, then she’ll want me as soon as she climbs back through the window, her skin aching for hard contact and the exhaustion a few hours of rough love-making can bring. Only then will she allow me to distract her some more from that ridiculous dinner with her family that will never happen. Ever.

  Chapter 3

  “I told them I’m seeing someone.” Mai nibbles on the edge of a wheat biscuit, ignoring the crumbs that drop into her lap and all over her white linen pants. Why my woman chose to wear white to a breakfast picnic in the park, I have no idea.

  The sun blazes cool and gold over our morning picnic. A crisp October 10 a.m. with biscuits, red-pepper jelly, sausage made from spa-massaged
turkeys, and gourmet coffee. My gift to her. Well, maybe it’s a gift to both of us. Mai sometimes pretends she has no patience for romance, but I’ve seen into her dreams.

  “You’re an adult who also happens to like sex,” I say from my place propped up against a pillow and on top of the thick blanket protecting us from the grass and its creepy-crawlies. “I hope that didn’t surprise any of them.” And by ‘them,’ I mean her mother.

  Mai ignores my usual snark. “They want to know if you’re human or Meta or…whatever.”

  Something about the way she’s not looking my way makes me suspicious. I pause with the cup of coffee halfway to my mouth. “But you didn’t tell them, did you?” My love is trying to keep secrets from her family, and it’s kind of adorable. “You’re hiding that I’m a Meta from them.” Unlike most Metas, I can disguise who I am. It’s part of my ability to hunt that the enforcers find useful.

  “They don’t have to know every little thing about me,” Mai says, defensive.

  The hot coffee floods over my tongue when I sip. Potent caffeine. Dark roasted and scalding. I swallow, then put aside the cup to stand on its own in the grass. “So you’re just going to pretend they don’t have eyes on just about everything you do?” Her family probably knows when we had sex for the first time. Not that our public parking lot sexcapade was that hard to miss, or catch on camera, by anyone passing by.

  “They may be watching me but that doesn’t mean they’re in every part of my life.” Her words are flippant, but the pain behind them squeezes my insides in a fist. Mai may have pulled away from her poisonous family to save herself, but she still loves them. Still wants those reptiles in her life.

  The last of the biscuit disappears between her teeth in a final rain of crumbs. “Not the way I want them to be, at least.” She looks wistful but angry with herself, too.

  With my fingers linked with hers, I tug her down to the blanket with me. The autumn day is cool. Dying leaves fall from the tall trees and drift all around us. I lay back on the pillow with Mai draped over me and pull another thick blanket over us. The coolness of the day doesn’t bother me, but there’s something indescribably good about the intimacy of being under the covers together, even if it’s in the middle of a city park.

  Light as feathers, her bare toes brush back and forth over the top of my feet. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t plan this entire wonderful morning just for me to talk endlessly about my family.” Her butter-scented breath brushes over my lips, and she rolls her eyes.

  “I planned this so you can talk about whatever you want and to do whatever you want.” As always, I can’t keep my hands to myself. They wander over the curve of her hip and down to her thigh. “I won’t lie and say I’m not tired of the subject though.”

  “Ha! I can always count on you to be honest with me, Xóchitl.” She slides off me to land gently on her back but with her arm pressed against mine. Pushing away the blankets, she leaves herself bare to the chilled morning. Mai blinks up at the sky, smiling.

  “I try to be honest with you, unless I can’t.” I carefully watch her face for the answer to my question. “Do you want me to start lying to you?”

  “No, no! Please don’t. I rely on you for that. Don’t let my grouchiness convince you otherwise.”

  Her lips dip down at the corners, the smile quietly dying. I give in to the ever-present urge to kiss her. Lightly this time. A tease for now and a promise to get more later. “Grouchy doesn’t suit you.” This sadness popping up like a jack-in-the-box at unexpected moments has got to go, and for good. “That’s more my MO.”

  I may be a bit of an ass, but part of what makes me so good at my real job is that I’m a natural protector. Sheltering the people I love from the things that hurt them, no matter how small, gives my life purpose. My mind skitters away from my little sister and just how much I failed to keep her safe.

  “I don’t think you’re so much grouchy as have no time for anyone’s shit,” Mai says. “Even mine.”

  Instead of answering, I brush the soft line of her throat with my lips. The motion is so delicate that it tickles. She laughs again, trying to hide her vulnerable skin from me. I stop teasing before she can really get too far with that.

  “Come on, eat some more.” I steal one last kiss. “Your sister is going to drag you all over that museum, and you won’t have time to eat before.”

  “I already ate half the food in that basket!”

  I dip into the basket and produce a crisp slice of pear. “Eat the other half.” A hum of satisfaction vibrates my chest when her lips part to accept the fruit. “You get any skinnier and I’ll have to find a new girlfriend. You know I prefer my women thick and juicy.”

  “You ass!” She laughs, covering her mouth to stop pieces of chewed pear from flying everywhere.

  “Don’t worry, you’re still juicy, so you still have that at least going for you.” A piece of pear disappears into my mouth and I slowly chew, enjoying the strange mix of fruit and coffee on my tongue. Hm. What would pear-flavored coffee taste like? Hell, Starbucks will probably have that flavor next year as a special summer blend.

  I love it when she laughs. When that smile of hers comes out, it pops instant gladness inside my chest. My happy by proxy. And in return for gifting me with some of the best days I’ve had so far, I want to give Mai Redstone everything.

  I’m such a sap about Mai most days that I make myself sick.

  Moments later, a butterfly lands on the back of her hand in a flutter of gold-dusted wings.

  “Wow! Look!” Her thick lashes quiver in surprise, but other than that she stays perfectly still. “Xóchitl…isn’t it beautiful?” Her voice comes out in a whisper like she’s afraid that speaking too loudly will make the butterfly rush away. But it’s not going anywhere. I’ve made sure of it.

  The butterfly is a pretty thing. Its wings are like gauze. They wave back and forth through the air, filtering sunlight over Mai’s skin. She stretches out her fingers to get a better look at the pretty creature on the back of her hand. Just then, another lands on her pinkie, then another on her arm. A gold-and-black monarch butterfly makes a landing strip of her shoulder. A heartbeat later, nearly a dozen of them, tiny and as white as her ridiculous pants, drift from a nearby tree and settle on her chest.

  Mai’s smile grows wider, and she stares at the butterflies using her as a perch like they are pure magic. More and more of them arrive. They flit across her skin, across her clothes, passing each other, but coming back to land on her like she’s the most perfect flower they’ve found in the park.

  Her eyes dart up to look me. “How are you not—Oh! You’re doing this.”

  “Doing what, Mai darling?” But I’m smiling, and a dozen more butterflies flutter over to our blanket, landing in her hair, on her nose, on her smiling cheek.

  They’re in different patterns and colors: blue, green, yellow, a silken black with dots on its wings that look like eyes. I hear a gasp of surprise—someone passing by our mostly secluded spot. Then low conversations that sounds like strangers talking. But since it doesn’t seem like anything dangerous, I only have eyes for Mai.

  Soon, she’s covered in butterflies, only with room to breathe and giggle about their tiny feet tickling her. Before her amazement can turn into a panic that she’s covered in dozens of glorified bugs, I release the butterflies with a thought.

  Like a rippling ribbon made up of a hundred colors, they rise from her skin, wings fluttering. They float up and up, undulating briefly above Mai like a flock of tiny birds, moving in a semi-solid mass, back and forth, showing off, before scattering in different directions.

  Soon, it’s just us and the bright blue sky and Mai’s gentle amazement.

  “That was a little incredible, and a lot sexy.” She crouches over me, fingers clutching the loose fold of my cream-colored dress. “I’m saying this as someone who’s seen some amazing things. Yo
u basically just guaranteed you’ll be getting some tonight.”

  “I was already guaranteed a piece before all this,” I tell her with a smug smile.

  Although I’ve been semi-paying attention, I become aware of more eyes on us. Then a cell phone camera or five. The lenses of the phones are turned up toward the sky now and away from us. The few who’d been watching the butterfly show have already wandered away.

  An annoyance. Why couldn’t I have the power to harness lightning so I can fry these intrusive phones?

  But then Mai presses me down into the blanket with more-than-PG-13 kisses, her mouth open and ravenous. It takes no more than that to make me forget all about the people watching us. My senses scatter like a thousand enchanted butterflies.

  When she lifts her head a long time later, her lips are damp and swollen and her eyelids heavy from thoughts of sex. I brush my thumb along her lush lower lip and allow her thoughts to tug me along to that sweet and hot place. I squirm against the blanket. At least we don’t have anything important to do later. We can take this picnic back to the bedroom and keep it going for the rest of the day and into the night.

  What I want to eat right now I can’t in public.

  “So.” She brushes her lips along my jaw. “What else can you do? You’ve never really told me.”

  Without my permission, my head tilts back, allowing Mai access to whatever part of me she wants. Traitorous body.

  “Ah…” I swallow hard and dig my fingers into her hair when she finds that spot between my collarbones. She ghosts her tongue lightly over it, which basically acts like the key to opening my legs. I smell myself and I know she does, too.

  My tongue tries to wipe away the dryness of my lips. “I’m a woman of many talents.” A low moan breaks my reply in two. “I can’t give away all my secrets to you so soon.”

  “Hm. So your powers are secret.” Her gaze meets mine as she continues to tease.

  From the spark in her eyes, I know she’s joking. Mai doesn’t want to measure my power and use that as a way to judge my worth. That’s something her mother does. But she’s also right that the things I can do are more secret than they are known.