by Angel Lawson
“Come here,” he says to her, and she walks over. Taking a deep, steadying breath he makes the shield again, this time with Astrid behind it.
“Take your best shot, Owen,” he says.
Owen doesn’t pick up anything, instead he uses his hands and turns the room into a darkened jungle. Vines ripple off his body, twisting across the floor, up the walls and covering the ceiling. Dark smoke fills the room and Astrid feels the hammering of her heart. It all looks so real. Snakes slither toward them and Owen moves his hands, pushing them into an attack. Their jaws widen, their fangs glisten and the hissing echoes in her ears. She knows they aren’t real, but her mind can’t push back. Owen is good, very good, at this manipulation and for the first time she feels the full onslaught of it, mentally as well as physically.
“Fucking snakes,” Quinn mutters and pulse kicks into high gear. “You know they freak me out.”
“Yeah, that’s why I made them,” Owen quips, not the least bit sorry to be challenging Quinn. But what Quinn is experiencing isn’t normal—he usually doesn’t panic, but she feels it rolling off of him and that fear is going to make him fail.
She makes a decision.
Ripping off her gloves, she drops them on the ground, reaching for Quinn’s hands. He wavers for a second, and the shield falls but she says, “Don’t drop it. Hold on.”
He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. Fear races through her. Absolute, terrified panic. She swallows it back and thinks of something good. Something happy, and channels everything she has back on him.
Saving the kid from the fire. The first time he and Astrid spoke. His smile. The ring. Their fight. The way his body feels beneath her hands.
The last one seems to do it, sparking something in him, and the fear fades entirely. She removes her hands, confident he’s got it.
The snakes and darkness ascend, crashing into them, but the shield holds, keeping them at bay. Quinn envelops them, moving his arms wide. They’re encircled by his protection and no matter how hard Owen tries, he can’t get through.
The darkness blinks, fades—his strength is waning. Quinn grits his teeth, trying to hold on. Astrid watches as their eyes connect and they both give at the same time. The shield falls, the manipulations vanish. Both men gasp for air.
Astrid wraps her arm around Quinn, holding him upright.
“I can’t decide if I should be turned on or terrified,” Casper says over the speaker.
Owen exhales and looks up at the ceiling. “Dude.”
“Why do you have to make everything weird?” Quinn adds. His eyes dart to Astrid. She can feel her lingering effects on him. She may have to find something better than lust that makes him happy.
Astrid just smiles, almost buckling under Quinn’s weight.
“I’m not sure what your friend Draco is up to,” Casper adds, “but he just gave you all a massive advantage.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Quinn
Exhausted from experimenting with their powers, they agree to take a break. Owen crashes on the couch in the game room. Astrid heads to her bedroom and Quinn follows.
She’s not getting away so easily.
He stops in the doorway, watching as she kicks off her shoes. Without turning, she says, “You know I can hear your heartbeat a mile away. Especially now.”
“Yeah, that’s not the only thing you got wound up in there,” he replies. She hit him with a hard dose of lust during the test. One he could handle while fighting off Owen’s creatures, but now that it’s over, he’s left with the lingering effects of her empathy and a painful hard-on in his shorts.
She turns and eyes him in the doorway. “Sorry about that. I’m going to have to figure out a better way to motivate you.”
“Your power is strong,” he says. “More than I realized. Like, I thought I understood, but what you pushed into me? It dominated my mind and body as much as Owen’s snakes.”
“Yeah, he really scared the shit out of you. I felt it.”
“I hate snakes.”
She laughs. “You never should have told him that.”
He wills away the desire while they talk, but it’s impossible. She got in his head. Both of them. “Yeah, so—” he’s about to tell her he’s going to take a shower when she cuts him off.
“Now you know what I go through.” She holds up her hands. “Why I protect myself.”
“I want you to learn how to control it.”
She wrinkles her nose. “What if I can’t?”
He steps into the room, holding up his hands, and raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t exactly say yes but she also doesn’t run. He takes her right hand in his but doesn’t take off the glove, not yet.
“We can’t go back from this,” she tells him. “The way we were before. You know me now.”
“I’d like to think I knew you before.”
“I’m a bundle of walking nerves, Quinn. Raw and untethered. Doesn’t that scare you?”
He works his jaw, trying his hardest not to scare her. Scare himself.
Linking up to her like this—now he gets why she and Owen have become closer lately. Knowing Astrid like this builds a bond that can’t be easily shattered.
“Do you want to go back? To before? Before we found one another?”
She shakes her head.
He holds her eye and runs his hand down her cheek. Her skin burns from the touch, heating instantly. Her nipples peak and her tongue darts between her lips. “Every layer you reveal makes me care for you more.”
“And it’s not just the lust.”
He laughs. “No, it’s not just the lust but damn, yeah, that may be something you want to get a little more control over.”
They both look down at the hard erection in his pants.
“Damn, you’re horny,” she tells him. “Like, do you deal with this all day, because I’d go crazy.”
He chuckles. “You got me going and I’m having a hard time shaking it.”
“I’ve never had feelings like this before. Mind and body, with the protection stripped away, everything feels raw. Like my skin itches, but in a good way.” She reaches for his hips. “A very good way.”
His mouth hovers close to hers, but he waits…waits for her to make the first move. It takes what feels like forever before her lips crash into his. Their emotions churn like a hurricane, wild and unrepressed. It’s nothing like he’s felt before and she shudders with emotions.
“Are you okay?” he asks, holding her face in his hands. “I can stop. Just say the word.”
She doesn’t, but she keeps her hands tight on his waist, holding on like a lifeline. He skims her arms, her back, and down her sides. Each one makes her gulp, shiver, and steel her resolve. There’s nothing holding her back right now but sheer will and he’s not going to be the one that breaks it.
Her emotions run high, not the same as behind the shield when she touched his hands, but it’s still amped up. And he pushes her against the door, looking for leverage, friction, stability, but the latch gives under their weight and they crash into the hallway.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Owen stands in the hallway, hair messy and a faint tint to his cheeks. He shifts and they both look down and spot his massive erection, clearly visible in his pants. “You know the whole town can feel this, don’t you? Every guy down in the gym is probably humping a barbell.”
Astrid’s hand covers her mouth. “Oh god. No, I didn’t think.”
Her cheeks blush and a new wave of emotions rolls through the room. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Horror. Owen holds on to the door like he’s being rocked by an earthquake. He looks between them.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” he says.
“And I told you we have to get a handle on it,” Quinn snaps back. Between the exertion with his own powers and the emotional whiplash, exhaustion settles in his bones.
“Whatever,” Owen says. “Talk it out, fuck it out. I’m taking a cold shower.”
&
nbsp; He vanishes, no doubt to do exactly what he said. Quinn kisses both of Astrid’s hot cheeks and says, “Yeah, that may be a good idea.”
“Wait, what?” she asks, calling out after him.
Three people, three sets of hormones, and three emerging superpowers. Quinn thought the bad guys were going to be the biggest problems they faced, but now he’s not so sure.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Owen
It’s hours later when Astrid appears in Owen’s bedroom doorway. She’s wearing tight black pants and a gold beaded top. Kick-ass boots with lethal heels make her nearly his height, and black gloves cover her hands. Her hair is a long curtain of gold.
He looks at her in the reflection of the mirror while he straightens his tie. “Don’t get me worked up again,” he says. “I can’t take another shower before we go—and next time, you’re taking it with me.”
“Talk like that really isn’t helping.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“I’m sorry about that before. Things got a little out of control.”
“You think I meant to throw all those snakes at Quinn?” he asks. “I meant to do one and next thing I know it’s like a fucking snake bomb went off in there. You used what you had to in order to help him get through the moment. We’ve all got a long way to go before we really get a handle on our powers.”
“It’s going to take a minute to get used to it,” she admits. He finally turns to face her and her eyes skim from head to toe. “You look nice.”
“Thank you.” He grabs his phone off the dresser. “You think we’ll be able to get through this dinner without some kind of major issue?”
“I doubt it.” She laughs. “So, I had something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Panic hits him. He’s not sure why. Probably because he likes it here and there’s a small frown on her lips and frowns are bad news. She senses this—of course she does—and says, “It’s not a big deal, well maybe it is, but not in a bad way.”
“Okay.”
She gestures to the bed and he sits, careful not to wrinkle his pants. She sits next to him, her leg close to his. “After our experiments, I think I know why you don’t remember the group home—or at least not all of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have this distinct memory of you, Owen. Seeing you in the backyard. You and Devin were messing with Harry and I was really worried. I loved him so much, even then.” She frowns. “I touched you and read your echo. It was the first time I’d done it. The doctors must have triggered something in my last visit, but it must have been before they blocked us from one another. I read you and you were in a lot of pain. Like, a lot.”
“With everything going on that doesn’t seem like a stretch, even if I don’t remember it.” Her confession makes him uneasy, like he knows where this is going but isn’t sure he wants to hear it.
“I think I felt bad for you in that moment and well, I think I took away your pain. The way I helped that little boy in the home invasion, and Quinn today.” She twists her hands in her lap. “I didn’t mean to do it—or intrude—or god, take away your childhood. I was young and stupid and had way too much power I didn’t know how to control.”
Owen sits for a minute, taking in Astrid’s story. He feels the nervous energy rolling off her and he reaches for her gloved hand and takes it in his.
“You’re a good person, Astrid. It sounds like you were a good kid. I’m sorry I don’t remember you but I’m not sorry you took away the pain.”
“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him. Her hair swings over her shoulder and her lips are pink with gloss.
“I think it’s just another confirmation we’re all supposed to be doing this—working together and helping one another. You helped me back then and I’m going to keep working to help you get your powers under control. Any way you need.”
She bites her lip and stares at him. “Thank you, Owen.”
“Always, Astrid.”
She leans forward and kisses his lips with gentleness. He fights his hormones—fights hers, too. Because they’re susceptible to passion, but they also have willpower. There will be other times to explore. Right now, they have to finish getting ready for their date with the devil.
“If you need me tonight, you let me know,” he tells her, squeezing her hand. “Demetria is a master manipulator. She’ll sense your emotions.”
“Thank you. And you let me know if you’re planning on snake bombing someone.” She stands and pulls him off the bed. “Mostly so I can get out of the way.”
“Got it,” he agrees, yanking her closer and kissing her thoroughly. “For luck.”
She laughs darkly and straightens his tie. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”
Chapter Thirty
Astrid
The car arrives exactly on time. Draco isn’t in the driver’s seat. It’s an unfamiliar face. Unfamiliar and unfriendly. Quinn sits in the front next to him, giving Owen and Astrid the backseat.
They’re quiet on the ride from the gym to Demetria’s home. Casper couldn’t find any details on the location, but it’s surprising when the car heads out of the city toward the suburban area of Crescent Park. The homes are notoriously lavish, locked behind gates and tucked in the hills overlooking the harbor.
Owen’s hand winds with hers when they approach the large wrought-iron gate, secured between two white brick fences. The house isn’t visible, but the shine of light filters through the trees.
“Tell me this is the right thing to do,” Owen whispers in her ear. Quinn looks back at the sound of his voice. Astrid nods. It’s the right thing. A crazy thing, but the right thing. They’re caught in the middle of a showdown between two desperate, greedy people, and right now Demetria seems like the least dangerous. They need her on their side, at least until they shut Kincade down.
The gates slowly open and the car travels up the winding driveway. Twinkling lights hang from the trees, giving everything a magical glow. None of this is a surprise, of course, including the treehouses tucked just out of sight. Owen’s hand tightens in hers and she hears the uptick in his heartbeat and the quickening of his breath.
“What’s wrong?” she whispers.
His green eyes lock with hers and she feels the tug of her glove as he slips it off her hand. Her own body reacts in fear. What is this? What is he doing?
Their fingers touch and she’s slammed with his echo.
Owen, younger—boyish—standing before Demetria. Her eyes skim over him. Absorbing him. Her smile is predatory. “I’ve waited a long time for you to come home, Lost Boy. So many games we’ll play.”
Astrid’s eyes pop open, meeting Owen’s. “What was that? When was that?”
The car comes to a slow stop at the top of the hill. She tugs her glove back on, trying to calm her pounding heart. The driveway curves next to the enormous home. It’s not a home. It’s a castle; like something out of a fairytale. White stone with turrets on each corner. Stained glass fills the glowing windows and giant topiaries line the walkway. Perfect for Demetria and her delusional fantasies. The instant the door opens and they’re out of earshot of the driver, Astrid turns to Owen and hisses, “What is going on?”
“I’m telling you she’s fucking crazy and she got in my head when she found me a few years ago. I don’t want her doing it again.” He looks at Astrid. “What if she backs out of your deal?”
“Hey,” she says, squeezing his hand. “We’ve got this.”
Dark sadness fills his eyes. “I’m not used to relying on other people. I’m sorry.”
Lord, he really is Peter Pan. Trust issues and everything.
“Owen, do you think this is a trick?” Astrid finally asks. She has one foot on the step. “A trap? Are we walking into something we’re not prepared for?”
He takes a deep breath and his eyes dart to the door. They’re waiting on them. “I know you made a deal with her to stay away from us, but I don’t buy it,” he says. “Me and Quinn. Ca
sper. It’s some kind of obsession and you’re messing with her fantasy. She’s Wendy. I’m Peter.”
“Who does that make me?” she asks.
“Tinkerbell.”
Astrid racks her mind for the story. “Wendy hates Tinkerbell because she takes Peter and the other Lost Boys’ attention away from her.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Quinn asks, rubbing his head. “Stay in reality people. Don’t go to this level.”
Owen shakes his head. “I don’t know how this will go, but here is my suggestion. Be nice. Flirt a little. Do not insult her. Let’s see what she wants and get out of here, okay?”
Astrid sighs and shares a look with Quinn. He nods. “Okay, but if you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, let me know.”
“Got it,” Owen says.
“And remember,” she tells them both, “you aren’t her Lost Boys. You’re my men. My teammates and my lovers. No one is taking you away from me.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Quinn
“Astrid,” Demetria says from her position in the foyer. She’s been waiting for them to arrive. If she’s annoyed that they lingered in the driveway, she doesn’t reveal it. With her, it’s hard to tell. Everything is an act—or a fantasy. Reality is lost somewhere in between. “Darling, I am so sorry to hear about the terrible incident at the old school. I had such exciting plans for that place! But once again, Kincade got there first. But regardless of all of that, I’m glad to see you healthy.”
“Thank you, Demetria,” Astrid says. She’s got on her game face for sure. Pleasant, grateful. He had no idea she could pull off such niceties. Her outfit, though, looks like some kind of bad-ass warrior, and Quinn is thankful she’s on their side.
“And you must be Quinn,” she says, stepping close. Her eyes linger on his bruised face and bloody lip. “Who did this to your handsome face?”
“Just a little mishap at the gym.”
She frowns with worry and touches his cheek. It takes everything in him not to jerk away, but Astrid watches him carefully, willing him to behave. “Next time be more careful. I don’t like to see violence like this.”
