Maya, as always, stayed close to the client. She brought the 9mm along. It was tucked safely in her shoulder holster under her leather jacket. Conrad had insisted it stay concealed. Didn’t want to freak out the kiddies. In truth, Maya had developed a few more unique abilities since her evolution which made the gun almost unnecessary. She didn’t care. The cold hard steel made her feel better. Like an adult binky.
The atmosphere was less hostile than the last time, but there were still a few stray idiots holding a grudge. And as a result of her newly developed senses, she could hear them, hear them all. Even better yet, she’d learned to filter their thoughts and emotions so she knew exactly who to watch.
So, this time, when an angry fan stepped up, prepared to do damage, Maya held out her hand. She could feel the warm tingling sensation flow through her arm. A thin thread of energy flowed from her fingertips, something only she could see. A hot pink invisible lasso -- eat your heart out, Wonder Woman -- which she wrapped around the man, watching as his body absorbed the thread.
The man’s eyes turned bright bunny pink. She forced her will into the astral energy. He turned around and walked away. Just like she’d made him do. When he stepped out the door, she brought her hand back to her side and he stood outside in front of the store window looking dazed and confused.
“That’s right, sucker,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m Maya Eddings, and it’ll be a sorry ass day if you run into me again. I’m tough. I’m the epitome of bitch in heels. And I am Astrallu.” Whatever the hell that meant. And she did want to know, but she’d figure it out as she went along. For now, she was kicking ass and taking names. It felt good. Walking Tall good. And if the bad guys didn’t like it, they could pack their shit up and get the fuck out of her city.
“Did you say something?” Conrad asked.
I am woman. Hear me roar. She smiled at Gentry. “Nah, nothing. It’s going good, eh? Lots of fans.”
“Real good. Thanks again, Maya.”
“That’s my job.”
Hannah Beckham
Hannah Beckham is ready to be fitted for her own straightjacket and a magical stay in the rubber room. After a stint in the Army, Hannah found writing a great way to escape the insanity that is her life. She likes tough heroines with a sense of humor, and heroes who are hunkishly supernatural and a little damaged. She’s always up for email. Readers can write her at [email protected] or visit her website at www.hannahbeckham.com.
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