by Jessica Roe
Before he could get out his phone to check, the metal door to the roof slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud clang. Zebb and Uang stepped out, looking smugger than hell.
Nicky turned to glare at Gad, who held his hands up innocently. “I didn't sell you out, I swear it on me old nanny's grave. But I do have to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For this.” Gad clicked his fingers and, with a ridiculous puff of pink smoke, he vanished.
Nicky swore under his breath. The scrawny little bastard wouldn't have been able to hold his own against Zebb and Uang anyway, but he was still an abandoning shit.
“Hand over the box like a good little champ,” Zebb called out.
Fucking idiots. “Now boys, you know I can't do that.”
Zebb opened his mouth to retort but Uang wasn't in the mood for games. He rolled his eyes at the pair of them and attacked.
“Works for me,” Zebb said.
Working separately, Zebb and Uang were skilled. Together they were lethal. They attacked Nicky with a one minded ferocity, sending jabs in every direction. Nicky held his own, but soon he was unable to provide a good offence and was focusing only on blocking their punches. They fought him backwards to edge of the roof, and soon he was trapped with nowhere to go but over. Thirty nine floors was a long way to fall, and he briefly wondered whether his body would splat like a water balloon when he hit the ground. Uang caught Nicky's chin with his knuckles and his head shot back. His foot scooted back half an inch, and the back of his boot hung off the edge of the roof.
He was done for.
And then two small pops came from behind Nicky's attackers and Zebb and Uang both dropped to the ground. The shock caused him to stumble backwards, but he had nowhere else to go and he began to fall.
A hand shot out, lightning fast, and grasped on to his. He stopped falling with a jolt and banged into the side of the building. Pain shot up his arm from the weight of his dangling body.
“God, you're fucking heavy,” came a strained voice.
His head shot up. “Gable?”
She yanked him backwards and he grasped on to the roof with his free arm. Together, they managed to get him over to safety before collapsing on the ground next to one another, panting with exertion.
It seemed to take forever for his heart to stop pounding from his near death experience. Grey clouds drifted lazily over head, and Nicky's eyes blurred as he stared up at them, one hand resting over his chest, the other clasping onto Gable's like his life still depended on it.
When he was sure that he could stand up without collapsing again, Nicky climbed to his feet, pulling her up with him. He was reluctant to let go, her hand was small and warm and soft, just like he remembered, but he let her slip it from his grasp. She clenched her fist, and he wondered if it was because the heat had seared her, just like it had him.
They regarded each other wearily, beyond awkward. Her skin was pale, far from the sun-kissed bronze she'd been as a teenager. Those lips were just the same though, pink and pouty, just waiting to be kissed. It took him great effort to drag his eyes away from them.
He'd thought a lot about what he'd say to her when he next saw her, but none of it seemed right or appropriate. Instead, he glanced over at the sprawled out bodies of Zebb and Uang. “Are they dead? Did you shoot them?” He couldn't see any blood, but it was the only logical conclusion he could come to.
“Just with a tranquillizer gun. They're passed out, not dead.” She picked up the gun she'd dropped while saving his life and held it up. “Always handy to have. Less messy than the real thing. Pablo hates mess.” She nodded towards the gun in his holster. “Why didn't you use yours?”
He hadn't yet aimed the gun at a real person, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to, but he didn't want to tell Gable that. “What happened to your legs?” She was dressed in cut off shorts and a white tank, and her thighs were scraped and chunks of gravel were embedded into her skin. “Did you do that pulling me up?”
“It's just a scratch.”
“You saved my life,” he stated.
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't get all sentimental on me, Pierce, it doesn't suit you.”
“I don't care. Thank you.” He watched her intently.
“Fine, whatever. You're welcome, I guess.” She looked uncomfortable with the way he was staring at her.
“You still chew on your lip when you're embarrassed.” It was endearing, always had been.
Instead of making her smile like he'd hoped, his words only seemed to piss her off. “Look, if you really wanna thank me, you'll give me that box you were willing to die for.”
Why did she have to make things so hard? “You know I can't do that.”
“I wasn't even supposed to be here,” she shouted hotly, pulling at the roots of her hair. “The only way I can go back to Pablo now and explain why I put two of his best guys to sleep instead of letting them force you over the edge of the building is to say I did it so the box wouldn't go over with you. I can't go back without that box, Nicky.”
After all the years that had passed by, he still loved the sound of his name on her lips. “Is that really why you did it?”
She stared at him for endless moments, and he was trapped in her unwavering gaze. When she finally looked away without answering, Nicky knew he'd been right about her all along. She still cared about him. Enough to disobey Pablo and save his life.
She cared.
He took a step towards her. “You don't have to go back to Pablo,” he said earnestly.
He lost her. Her shoulders stiffened, her fists clenched, and every line in her face went hard. She looked right into his eyes and laughed, condescension in every peal. “Don't try to save me, Nicky. Pablo doesn't keep me against my will. I'm with him because I want to be.”
When Gable spoke to him like that, there seemed to be nothing left of the girl he knew. So why did he still want to hold her close and never let her go again? “God, Gable, what happened to you after you ran from your uncle's place? What turned you into this person? How did you end up taking this path in life?”
“Fuck you!” Fury rolled off of her in waves. “You think you're so damned pure 'cause you work for the Guardians and their shit hole New York City division? My life is none of your business!”
“It used to be!”
“And then we were done. Get over it.”
“It wasn't over for me,” he blurted honestly, shaking his head. “You left me without even saying goodbye, but it was never over for me.”
“Well it was for me!” Gable's words stabbed him right through his heart like a cold, sharp blade of ice. “My parents were dead. I had nothing, no one!”
“You had me! I didn't realize how little that meant to you.”
“I loved you, you stupid bastard! But I couldn't be that weak little girl any more, and thinking about you took me back to that place. Don't you dare say that you meant nothing to me. You meant everything to me. But I can't be that girl again, Nicky. Stop looking for her. Things change. People change.”
Unable to stop himself, Nicky strode towards her and clasped her cheeks between his hands. “Not everything changes,” he growled, before pulling her face towards his and kissing her.
She tasted just how he remembered, sweet and hot and spicy, but she was so totally different at the same time. Eight years of forgotten feelings were released into their mouths, their bodies, their souls.
He slipped his fingers inside the waistband of her shorts and pulled her closer, digging his other hand into her hair, yanking her head back to kiss her deeper. She had always liked it rough. Gable slid her hands inside his jacket and gripped his shoulders so hard he was sure there would be bruises later on. He didn't care.
She was kissing him back.
Nicky gripped her butt and picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist like they belonged there. With her still in his arms, he stumbled back and fell, hitting the sto
ny ground hard. The pain barely even registered. Rolling her on to her back, mouths still entwined, he gripped her legs and pulled them tighter around his waist. She moaned into his mouth and it set his soul on fire.
He pulled his mouth away abruptly and pressed his forehead against hers. “Tell me again how things change,” he challenged.
She panted, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Give me the box,” she whispered.
“No.”
She shoved him off her and sprung to her feet. “You self righteous ass!” Swinging away, she ran her hands through her tousled hair.
Nicky watched her wearily as he climbed up off the floor.
Suddenly, she swivelled around and punched him in the jaw.
“Fuck, Gable!” She was stronger than she looked, and quicker than he remembered. He rubbed his jaw gingerly; his shoulders wouldn't be the only place he was bruised. “Do you even know what's in the box?”
“It isn't my job to know. All I need to know is that Pablo wants it, badly. And if I don't give it to him, he's gonna be seriously pissed.”
He couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand that they were on opposing sides, couldn't stand that just being around her made him want to throw all his new found fucking morels out of the window and give her the box, just to get her to kiss him again. Couldn't stand that he was hurting her by saying no. He definitely couldn't stand that Walker had been right all along about his intentions. “Gable, I'm sorry. It's too dangerous. I can't let you have it.”
Gable eyed his gun. “Are you going to hurt me if I try and take the box from you?”
Would he? Could he? He'd seen her disarm Walker like it was nothing, and Walker was the best fighter he knew. He tried to imagine ever fighting Gable and the thought left him cold. He could never hurt her. “Never.”
Her nostrils flared as she debated internally. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision. “Leave now, before Zebb and Uang wake up.”
“You can't hurt me either.” He smiled at her knowingly. “So this is it, you're really just going to let me leave?”
Gable glared at him. “This is your one free pass. The only one I'll ever give you. Next time, I'll break you.”
Her threat didn't scare him, because he didn't believe her. Their encounter had given him all the hope he needed. He could get her back. “Come with me,” he pleaded, using his most charming voice, the same one he'd used on her when they'd been sixteen. “I'll take care of you, I promise.”
Every word he spoke only seemed to infuriate her further. “Go!” she yelled, pointing towards the door. “Or I'll kill you.”
There was nothing Nicky could do but leave. “This isn't over,” he called over his shoulder. He didn't wait for a reply before letting the door to the roof bang shut behind him.
GABLE SHOULDN'T HAVE let Nicky kiss her. She shouldn't have kissed him back. She shouldn't have ran her fingers through his soft, short hair or let him hold her like she was the only thing he needed to exist. It had been a mistake, a moment of weakness, a wasted trip down memory lane. When he looked at her, all he saw was the girl she once was, but for a moment she had wanted to remember what it felt like to be innocent again. It had been wrong of her to let him think he had a chance of getting her back.
She was back in Pablo's office and he was once again in his chair, watching her across the desk.
Whenever she thought of Pablo, it would always be the image of him sat in his office. He so very rarely seemed to leave, unable to show his face too often. He couldn't make friends, enjoy long term relationships, take part in a world where people would notice his unchanging face. He had to be unmemorable.
His existence was a lonely one, and Gable's heart ached for him, even as she awaited her punishment.
She was beyond fear. She was numb. She had let Pablo down in an epic way, and once he decided upon her fate, it was sealed.
His body was poised and composed as always. Shoulders straight, chin resting on his fist as he regarded her. His eyes, however, were fierce, angry, hurt. There was a storm brewing inside him, and it was all her fault.
“I'm very disappointed in you,” he announced quietly, and the words cut straight to her core. Anger, she could deal with. Hatred, she could tolerate. Disappointment was torture. “You incapacitated Zebb and Uang, both of whom are not feeling overly forgiving.”
“I had to, they—”
“And you let that simpering fool walk away with my weapon.” His calmness was even more frightening than if he'd have shouted. Something about the way he spoke to her filled her with dread, a hint of menace underneath his smoothness. “Tell me you had no other choice,” he demanded.
He wanted her to tell him that Nicky had held a gun to her head, or that he somehow stopped her from following him. He wanted her to tell him that she hadn't betrayed him, that she hadn't chosen a Guardian over him after everything they'd been through. “I can't,” she said, because she couldn't lie to him, not about that. “I let him go.”
“You allowed your feelings to get in the way of my business after you swore to me that wouldn't happen. You may understand why I no longer feel I can trust you.”
“You can trust me, I promise. It was just a mistake. A stupid mistake. It won't happen again.”
“I don't allow mistakes, you know that.”
She swallowed, hard. “What do you want from me?”
“I think it's time you proved your loyalty. To me.”
Her heart filled with fear. She already had proved herself to him, time and time and bloody, violent time again. Whatever he decided to punish her with would be something she couldn't go back from. Perhaps it would've been better if he'd have gotten Zebb to have her disposed of, like he'd have done if she had been any other employee.
But she wasn't any other employee, she was his favourite. Which meant that whatever he had planned for her would be so much worse. “Do you want me to get the weapon back?” She didn't really believe that he would make it that simple.
“No, not yet. I'll get my weapon back when we destroy the New York City Guardian Division. I should have done it a long time ago, but it amused me to watch them running circles like headless chickens. They had such...pluck. But I was complacent about them, and now I have learned my lesson. And as for you...” He watched her with careful eyes. “I have never asked you to kill for me before. And now I will.”
She had been right—a punishment worse than death. Her own death, at least. Something that would strip away the tiny hope of redemption that she had always pretended she didn't want. Something that would burn away like acid what little difference there was between her and Zebb, or Uang, or any of Pablo's other thugs.
But Pablo was right, she needed it. She needed to be the cold, calculating monster that he wanted her to be. She could do it. She could kill. Because if she couldn't, then what was the point of everything she'd already done? Everything she'd already turned into?
She could kill, and she wouldn't even feel any remorse.
“Are you ready for this?” Pablo asked her, when she didn't say anything.
“I'm ready,” she told him, told herself. “Who's the mark?”
He slid a photograph across the desk towards her with a long finger. The picture was of a blonde woman. She wasn't looking at the camera, but talking to a guy as she bought a cup of coffee. Her smile was sparkling; she had no idea she was being watched. “A Telepath. She knows too much...she needs to die.”
IT WAS FINALLY time for the team to get Heidi and Becky out of the state and off of Pablo's psychotic, murderous radar. The girls had only been with them for less than a week, though to Nicky it felt a hell of a lot longer.
The whole crew sat around the polished wooden table in the meetings room they hardly ever used. Like the rest of headquarters, the walls were painted blue and white. Aside from the large, semi lifeless plant that sat in one corner, there were no other decorations. The room was bare and dull, and Nicky didn't have to wonder why they so rarely used it.
“So Kain
and Queenie stay behind,” Nicky confirmed as they discussed the plan for that evening. “And the rest of us meet up with Gad at eight.”
“He wants us to meet him at Madame Tussauds,” said Walker. “He thinks it's random enough that no one will look for us there.”
Nicky was feeling uneasy. “Are we sure we can trust him? Last time I saw that weasel he abandoned ship at the first sign of trouble.”
“Ironically, now that he has his family spell book back, we need him,” answered Charles with a sigh. “I can't think of anyone better to create the kind of magical wards Heidi and Becky are going to need so that Pablo won't be able to find them.”
“And they'll protect us wherever we go?” Heidi asked, looking frightened over the whole ordeal.
Charles nodded. “After the wards are in place, we'll meet with Neala on the outskirts of the city. She already has your new identities; your passports, your driving licence, etcetera. Neala will take you out of the country and keep you safe.”
Nicky had met Neala a couple of times at Yarmac and Bogely's, though she didn't live there. She was tall and slender with bright red hair, big blue eyes and the cutest dimples he'd ever seen. She was also a Nephil, the hybrid offspring of a human and a fallen Angel, which made her all kinds of bad ass. Aside from her enhanced strength and speed, like all Nephilim, Neala was magically untraceable. She was the ideal protector for Heidi and Becky.
“Charles—”
“No, Heidi.” He bristled like he already knew what she was about to say, which he probably did. The pair of them had been arguing over the same thing ever since they'd begun planning. Heidi wanted to make a short trip back to her apartment to collect some of her belongings—photographs, keepsakes, something about a pair of shoes that had cost roughly the same amount of money as Nicky's motorbike. Charles, of course, was adamantly against the idea. It's too dangerous, he'd said, with finality in his tone. He was certain, and Nicky agreed, that Pablo would be having her place watched day and night.
Nicky was sure, however, that not all of Charles' anger was stemming from Heidi's ridiculous request. He suspected the old guy was having an angst fuelled drama fest over the fact that he would soon be saying goodbye to his girlfriend, possibly for good. For the safety of Heidi and her daughter, the team weren't even going to be aware of their new location. It was a star crossed lovers kind of deal...but with old people.
