by Angel Lawson
“Demetria?” Quinn finally asks, incredulously. Monroe stands quietly to the side. “You want to ask Demetria to help us?”
“She’s not our enemy. She loves The Swamp.”
“Yeah with the passion of a thousand fiery dragon monsters,” Owen bites back. “She may not actually be evil, but she has zero self or ability control. No. No. She’s evil. You can’t prove otherwise.”
Draco looks at Monroe. “How’s she doing?”
“Excuse me?” she replies, startled.
“Don’t tell me you have no idea where she is. You rounded us up. Squirreled Casper away. You have a secluded island/testing facility/torture chamber.” He crosses his massive arms, aware of how threatening he can be. “How is Demetria?”
Finally, she relents.
“Better. Working hard. Controlling herself.” Her eyes dart between them. “With an increase in medication, her delusions of grandeur are gone,” she admits slowly. “She’s still a little flamboyant and prone to fancy, but the extreme symptoms are gone.”
“What,” Owen says, “the hell are you talking about?”
Quinn turns to him. “Draco?”
He doesn’t miss the genuine concern and question in his tone.
“After Demetria destroyed the Harbor line at the parade, she went to the treatment facility. She was extremely delusional and heavily drugged. I went to see her a few times, hoping there would be a change, but to keep her abilities suppressed she had to be physically and mentally secured. It was dangerous for her and the staff. One day when I got there, she was gone. The doctors told me she’d been removed for specialized treatment.” He looks at Monroe. “It didn’t click until the last day or so that she was probably here. If you picked us up, there was no way you’d allow her to stay unsecure.”
“You knew she was gone and never told us?” Quinn asks, forcefully controlling his tone. His hands fist and Draco eyes him carefully.
“I suspected she was safe.” Again, Monroe has gone silent, but Draco notices the strained tension in her eyes. The pulsing vein at her temple. Suddenly she looks tired when he says, “We’d like to see her. Assess her progress ourselves.”
“Speak for yourself,” Owen mumbles.
“As much as I’d think you’re right, that Demetria would be major asset to the upcoming fight, it’s not possible for you to see her.”
“Why not?” Quinn asks.
“Because we’re not the ones that removed her from the facility.”
Dread builds in Draco’s chest. “Then who did?”
“Who do you think?” She can’t bring herself to say it. To admit that she lost a survivor—a Super.
“Scheid?” Quinn asks. Owen picks up his bag of equipment and tosses it across the room, a stream of curses following.
“You lost Demetria?” Draco’s voice is soft. Controlled.
“It’s why we picked you up like we did. Performed the early tests. We had to make sure you weren’t compromised.”
“Where is she?” he asks, tired of her explanations. “Where did he take her?”
“I don’t know.”
“But he’ll use her,” Owen says. “You know he will.”
“Fuck,” Quinn mutters. “God knows what she thinks of us…what they’ve brainwashed her into thinking.”
“She was better,” Draco says. “Maybe that stuck.”
“Do you really think Scheid and Rowe want her better?” Owen declares. A small smile quirks at his mouth. He turns to Draco. “Promise me one thing.”
Draco sighs. “What’s that?”
“I want to be there when you tell Astrid, okay? Front row seats.”
The room falls into an uncomfortable silence.
A siren screeches from the desktop.
“What’s that!” Quinn shouts over the sound.
“It’s a signal,” Monroe says, grabbing the device and shutting it off. She flips on the screen hanging on the wall and a figure appears in a live feed. It’s not Scheid. Or Rowe.
It’s Jensen.
21
Astrid
The door shuts with a click, leaving the escalating storm outside and a different one building between them.
Casper watches her with intrigued brown eyes, his cheekbones accentuated by the shadowy light in the room. There’s a door open to a back room. It’s filled with his computer setup. Astrid spies a virtual reality headset on the desk.
“Can I get you something? A drink? Something to eat?” he asks.
There’s no doubt the politeness is part of his therapy. It’s adorable and she shakes her head and says, “No thank you.”
He scratches his neck, “I-I- uh…”
He’s speechless and not because of any impediment. She sits on the couch and pats the space next her. Casper follows and she cuts to the chase.
“When Quinn walked into my life, everything changed for me. I learned how to trust and count on a partner. That grew with Owen and compounded with Draco.” She touches his knee. “There was something beyond just being a team. A sort of connection. Dr. Monroe confirmed this for me. The original serum we were given as kids had a component that linked us together. It was to make us work better as a team, but with my empathy some different bonding occurred.”
Casper hangs on her every word.
“You know that the guys and I have different sort of relationship, right?”
He nods.
“It helps us fight better. Work better. I can feel them and anticipate their moves. It solidified us as a team and without it I think we would have lost a long time ago.”
“I’ve seen the adaptation to your molecules,” he says in a quiet voice. “Project 12 super-charged our genetics. W-we continue to evolve because of the small adjustments created with the original serum. There’s a bonding component that most humans don’t have. And Monroe is right, something about your empathy alters the chemistry of your mates.” He swallows. “We’re naturally attracted to one another. It’s how we so easily find one another and work in tandem. B-but once your pheromones link with another and your body releases oxytocin at the same time as another Super…”
“Things go to another level.”
“R-right.”
There’s little doubt where Astrid is going with this and the scent of nervous energy rolls off him in waves. He’s trying to compose himself, it’s obvious, but it may be too much for him, too soon.
Holding his eye with hers she takes his hand, spreading his palm flat. She rests her palm against his and releases calm. He exhales and his heartbeat slows and he gives her a small smile.
“W-who needs drugs when you can get a hit of that every once in a while.”
“It comes in handy.”
It’s with a steadier voice he says, “I-I talk a big game, Astrid, but I’ve never had any experience with a woman.” His cheeks turn red. “Well, not a real one.”
“We’re all a little behind where this is concerned, Cas. Some more than others.”
He looks down at their hands. “I just don’t think I’m ready. Not, to…you know.”
She nods in understanding. “It’s okay. We don’t have to. I just—”
“I don’t want it to be like this. Rushed.” He cuts her off. “Y-you’re too important. It shouldn’t be forced, like we have to save the world.”
“No,” she replies. “It shouldn’t. But we also agreed to protect people.”
She feels his internal struggle. There’s no doubt that he wants her. She can feel that without even touching him. He’s nervous. Unsure. And she certainly doesn’t want to pressure him before he’s ready. She watches as the knot in the back of his jaw tics with aggravation.
An idea pops in her head.
“You’ve been getting a lot of therapy, right?”
“A shit-ton. And lessons and training and whatever the hell Monroe wants to call this torture island.”
Astrid laughs. “Well, what if I give you a little lesson of my own.”
He raises an eyebrow. �
��What do you mean.”
“You said it’s about releasing oxytocin…how does that happen?”
“Right before you orgasm.”
She leans over and runs her hand up his leg, stopping at his upper thigh. “There’s more than one way to make that happen, Casper. We can save the other stuff for later. When we’re ready.”
He stares at her hand and there’s no doubt he’s already worked up and excited. She can see it. Smell it.
“I guess I can take one for the team,” he says, with a little laugh. “And saving the city.”
She smirks in return, moving a little closer. She touches his face and licks her lips before kissing him gently on the mouth. Casper is so bawdy. So vulgar and full of himself when he’s on the other side of the screen. In person, he’s very different. Subdued. Nervous. He has no idea what to do with his hands, his tongue or body. So, Astrid decides to take control.
“Lean back.”
She stands over him, starting with his mouth, kissing and luring him out. Slow, lingering movements. She touches his cheek, his shoulders and chest. He trembles with each connection, a man wound up with years of building tension.
She trails kisses down his neck, to his collarbone. She explores the planes of his chest, the hard swell of his muscular shoulders, the smooth skin of his ribcage.
His hands lay by his side clenching with every kiss, balling when she places one on each of his round, brown nipples. She moves lower, surprised at the hard muscle of his abdomen. Excited by the soft, dark hair stretching from his belly button downward. She runs her fingers through it and he flinches, grunting softly.
“Too much?”
His eyes flick lazily to hers. “Or too little.”
His shorts have an elastic waistband. His cock is already erect, pressing against the satin fabric. She fights the urges coursing through her own body, the desire she feels from doting on him alone—the cravings she has from his lack of touch.
“I’m going to take these off, okay?”
He nods, watching her every move.
He lifts as she drags them over his ass, pushing the shorts to the side. Her eyes widen when she gets a good look at him.
“W-what?” he asks.
“Uh, nothing,” she replies, genuinely shocked at his size. He’s not porn star humongous, but for the slightest guy in the group, he definitely doesn’t have the smallest one. “I’m going to touch you.”
“I’m probably going to come, just from that. Fair warning.” He clenches his jaw. He’s not kidding. He’s hard as fuck.
“Noted.”
She doesn’t take the time she normally would, dragging it out for her man’s pleasure. She swipes her thumb over the tip, sending a shiver down his spine. There’s no hesitation when she takes him in her mouth, dipping her hand below. His hands finally move, from the couch to her hair groaning with pleasure. He stands suddenly, knocking her and her mouth full of cock back.
Then he starts fucking her mouth and god, if he didn’t think he knew what he was doing, he was mistaken.
Astrid reaches around, grabbing his ass to hold on tight. He’s hard, ready, and the ache between her legs is real. Very real. He doesn’t go for long, his breath growing ragged, his movements erratic. She holds on, feeling the clench of his fingers in her hair, the jerking of his cock, until he finally comes, hot cum filling the back of her throat.
She pulls away and swallows, before reaching for him once again and licking the tip. He falls back on the couch; sweaty, naked, and reaching for her. She climbs in his lap.
“That was barbaric. I think I owe you an apology.” He brushes her hair out of her face, kissing her on the lips.
She laughs. “No, you don’t.”
He watches her through half-closed eyes and she can’t help but study him, wondering if he feels it. If there’s been a change.
“Will the others know?” he asks her.
“They always seem to.”
“And they don’t get mad.”
She shakes her head. “No. Can you handle it?”
That’s a side of this they hadn’t discussed, but she also thinks it’s programmed into them. Jealousy doesn’t help the team.
“I-I think I can.” He’s joking—she feels no animosity coming from him. Just a strange sense of contentment that is not his norm.
“And if you can’t?” she teases.
“I’ll fake it, because those guys? Any one of them can kick my ass in a flat second.”
She sits on his lap, feeling the swell of emotions grow. She was never sure if she could bring Casper in. No clue if it could ever happen, but it did and that means she’s capable of the impossible.
An alarm sounds from Casper’s setup and he doesn’t hesitate, lifting her off his lap and dashing from the room.
“What is it?” she asks, following with his pants.
“Something’s coming through,” he says, pressing a few buttons. While it boots up he tugs the pants over his legs and grabs a T-shirt off the bed. His muscles flex when he pulls it over his head.
The screen pops to life and Astrid freezes when the image comes clear. She grips Casper’s arm. There’s no doubt from the background, where he’s streaming from. The Lair under her gym.
“Dr. Monroe, I hope you’re receiving this message. Things have taken a turn in Crescent City. Scheid has infiltrated the mayor’s office and the police force. Evacuations of the Swamp have already begun. Luby, Mick, and I have opened the gym to the refugees, allowing them space in the facility and upstairs dormitory. We’ve moved into the apartment but have now barricaded ourselves down here, protecting your equipment and secrets.”
He glances over his shoulder.
“Things have escalated quickly and I don’t know if you can get here in time. It’s not just the Swamp that needs your help, it’s the entire city.” Wrinkles crease by his eyes. “We’ll hold the facility as long as we can. The residents are your allies but let me warn you, not everyone in the city has your back. They feel abandoned. Lost and, most of all, afraid.”
A voice shouts in the background—Luby?
“Get here fast, Astrid. Your city needs you.”
The screen blacks out and Casper turns to her. “Are you okay?’
“No,” she replies, feeling a thousand emotions at once. “But we have our orders. It’s time to go fight for Crescent City.”
22
Owen
“Perfect. Everything is going to hell,” he says, perfectly summing up
Jensen’s live-stream once it’s over. “Goddam, fucking, hell.”
He watches both his teammates handle the information about the gym and The Swamp differently. For he and Quinn it’s their home, and now it’s overrun with evacuees. That isn’t the problem. The problem is, they’re losing any bit of control they had over the situation and every minute they stay here, on this island, makes it worse.
Astrid bursts in the room, disheveled and red-faced, with Casper on her heels. Draco smiles when he sees him and Quinn goes in for a hug.
Yay, he thinks and manages not to say. The band’s back together again. Even in his mental sarcasm he’s happy to see her again and know that she’s safe.
He bends down, reaching for the bag of equipment he threw in his rage earlier.
“Did you see the live stream?” she asks.
“Yep,” Quinn replies. “Looks bad.”
“How fast can you get us there?” Draco asks.
Monroe says, “I can have the helicopter ready within the hour.”
There’s an elephant in the room. A big one and it’s dressed in glitter and sparkles. “Someone needs to get Astrid up to speed.”
She looks between them. “About what?”
Owen takes a breath, ready to go on a tirade but Quinn holds up his hand. “Not you. You’re too pissed.”
“I can’t believe you’re not!”
“Pissed about what?” Astrid asks. Her forehead is lined with worry.
“Fine, you tell her, D
raco. Tell her how you effed us up big time. How we’re going in blind against our biggest enemy!” He can’t contain his anger. Demetria is a weak spot for him. She’s haunted him for too long, toying with games about Lost Boys and luring him into her sick ventures. He knows they shouldn’t have partnered with her before. All it did was expose her gifts to the world, to Rowe and Scheid, and lead them right to her.
“Owen!” Astrid shouts. “What is your problem?”
Owen glares at Draco and Mr. Perfect shakes his head and sighs.
“We just found out Rowe and Scheid have another weapon in their arsenal,” Draco explains. His eyes dart to Monroe. They’re the ones that let this happen.
“W-what kind of weapon?” Casper asks.
“The worst kind,” Draco acknowledges. He holds her eye. “He has Demetria.”
Astrid’s eyes blaze. “He what?”
“He has her. How or exactly when, we don’t know, but he has her and he’s planning on using her to bring us down.”
Owen’s not sure what reaction to expect and it’s obvious no one else in the room does either. Anger. Rage. Betrayal all seem likely choices, but instead, a cold steel settles in her eyes. “He wants to use Demetria to destroy the Swamp and come after us?”
“We think so,” Monroe says.
“He can’t do that,” she says. “I won’t let him use her like that. I won’t let him mess with her head.”
“Astrid—” Quinn starts, knowing she’s going down a dangerous road.
“No, Quinn, Demetria is our responsibility.” She looks at Draco and he nods. “This is no longer just a battle for our city. It’s a battle for the survivors. Demetria. Rex. Blaze.”
“What if it’s too late?” Monroe asks. Owen can hardly believe this conversation.
Her jaw tightens. “Failure is not an option. Not with this.”
There’s a shift in the group. They’d always known Astrid was their team leader but they usually agreed anyway. Not now. There’s hesitation and it’s not just from him. Quinn looks wary. Monroe, concerned. Casper’s mind is running a million miles. Only Draco seems to be in her corner and that only makes Owen more skeptical.
