by A. K. Koonce
I don’t miss the derision on her face for Nala either, and in that moment, I huff a sigh, realizing I have more than myself I need to save.
Friendship sucks.
Fire flies from the woman’s fingertips just as time halts. I want nothing more than to use my time to punch the sadistic grin from her lips, but instead, I rush toward Nala, toward that damn soaring ball of fucking fire. It covers more distance than I’d planned, slowly crackling just inches from Nala’s body and I push her out of the way of the blast. Fire grazes my shoulder blade as I follow after Nala, stooping down and lifting her in a fireman’s carry. I stumble toward the back of the room and slip out of the exit, turning just before the door closes to give the bitch with the fire a one fingered salute, a glare, and an annoying little grin of achievement.
Pushing my legs as fast as I can, I make it outside the doors of the Lifeless League house. Gently, I set Nala down on the sidewalk.
I try to process everything that happened as my time winds down. My shoulder hurts like a bitch and I can feel each throb of my heartbeat in my fingertips. My shirt is ruined and I glance up at the building that used to be my home. All my shit is inside of that house, everything I own, and yet I can’t go back in to get it. No material object is as important as my life.
Fuck.
I breath heavily as my time ticks down to the my last few seconds of freedom. I don’t know what to do with Nala, but it almost feels wrong to leave her here… a sitting duck for whoever comes out that door next.
Three. Two. Ding, ding, ding. My time is up.
Blinking rapidly, Nala looks up from her perch on the ground.
“What… what happened?” Her eyebrows furrow and I roll my eyes at how innocent she appears. A damsel in fucking distress. What does that make me? The knight in shining armor? Yeah… no.
I can barely save myself here.
“You might want to get out here. I got us out, but the angry mob will be heading our way any second.” I anxiously look back at the house. “Good luck.” I start to walk away.
“He’s not going to let you go, you know.” She tells me as she gets to her feet.
“I know.” I don’t even turn around.
“I can help you.”
Sighing, I spin.
“I don’t need any help.” I don’t need friends. I don’t need you, Nala.
“You can’t trust the marks you were sent to kill.” She cocks her head to the side, studying my reaction. I’m surprise she knows even that much about my mission.
Narrowing my eyes at her, I respond with Rory’s words bouncing around inside my head, “Lesson one, trust no one.”
She pops her hands on her hips and huffs with frustration. “You really are stubborn.” The way she says it makes me think she’s talked about me with someone else in the past. No one at the Lifeless house actually knows me except for Armond. Well, that used to be true, at least. Now everyone in the Lifeless house knows of “Hart”. It’s just one more reason why I’m not safe there. Assassins like to stay in the background. None of us like being in the light. None of us enjoy being the center of attention. Except Armond. It’s a curious thought. It’s the difference between those who bolster power, and those who wield it.
I don’t turn around as I shrug and call over my shoulder. “It’s one of my best qualities.”
I hear her footfalls as she races to my side. “Here, just take this.” She presses a slip of paper into my burned palm. A line of numbers are written across it and it takes me a second to realize it’s her phone number. “I hope you use it.” She gives me a friendly grin.
I grab her forearm with my free hand before she leaves. “Thank you… for all your help.” The moment feels awkward. I’m really not very good at this friendship thing, but I offer her a tight smile before I release her.
Grinning widely, she nods once and disappears around the corner, slipping away. Just in time, too, because the doors to the house burst open behind me.
I follow suit and head down a separate alleyway. I zig zag through different streets downtown to make sure I’m not followed. When I’ve put enough space between me and them, I head into a convenience store to grab some supplies to treat my hands.
Grabbing what I need, I ignore the odd looks from the other shoppers, and make my way to the register.
“That will be nine dollars and fifty-two cents.” The teenage boy behind the counter reads the total nasally. “Cash or card?”
I have got to start thinking about how the real world pays for stuff.
I paste on a sweet, flirtatious smile as I slide my hands down my body, pretending to look for where I store my money.
Where do people store their money when they actually have money? Seems like something I should probably know as an adult…
“Oh, my goodness.” I make my eyes go wide. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t seem to have my money with me.” I pout, forcing my bottom lip out. It’s a look I would never wear normally but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Leaning over the counter, I make sure that my face is obscured by the surveillance camera. My hair hangs down on both sides of my face, shielding my eyes from view.
Reaching within myself, I pull the power I drained from Nala without her knowledge. I feel like a shitty friend, but it wasn’t exactly a position I signed up for.
I’m not completely sure this will work, but I try anyway. “You’re going to give me the supplies for free and forget that you ever saw me.” I push as much persuasion as I can toward the poor kid.
A soft glow lights his face and I know I’m right about hiding my face because I’m pretty sure my eyes are shining with intense color. Most people with magical abilities tend to have an outward sign when their power’s in use. This must be hers.
“Yeah, okay. Here you go, lady.” He methodically finishes packing my items and hands the plastic bag over. “Have a good day, ma’am.” He gives me a smile and turns his back on me to straighten the display behind the counter.
Well that was easy, but seriously? He called me ma’am. What am I? One hundred? Kids these days are cruel.
Sourly, I leave the store and head toward the guys. What a completely wretched morning.
Nineteen
A Simple Kiss
By the time I walk back through the door, I’m exhausted and not in the mood for the guys’ surly antics. It’s just my luck that they’re all gathered in the living room as I pass by to walk into the kitchen. Stalking to the sink, I drop my bag and start rifling through it for what I need.
One of the guys couldn’t have had healing powers or something else equally as useful? No. Instead, I’m stuck with a quieter version of Quicksilver, the male version of Storm, a guy who can move shit with his mind like Magneto, and a mentor watching over us all like Charles Xavier. His own little band of mutants. I roll my eyes. Useless. Completely useless.
Grumbling to myself, I shove my hands under the faucet and turn the water on cold. The blisters burn but the cold water is soothing. Using my teeth, I get the cap off the antiseptic ointment just in time to hear the guys enter the kitchen with thudding footsteps. Everyone except Mouse, that is. That guy doesn’t make a sound.
But he is there. My gaze meets his for only a moment. Knowing he’s okay after Armond found him is comforting. It calms my heart a little after everything that’s happened.
“What happened here?” Tylin crosses his arms over his chest, taking up position against the counter on the far side of the kitchen. He leans there casually, but the air in the room shifts. I can feel his authority weighing down the room.
I grit my teeth and start slathering the ointment over my burned fingers. It hurts. It still hurts as if lava is attempting to burn through me from the inside out.
“Babe?” Jameson comes to stand beside me, taking my ruined hands in his as he looks over the damage. “What the fuck happened?” His eyes snap to mine, the blue in them cold as ice.
A dizzying feeling pulls at my mind and blink it
away as I move my hand back. “It seems Mouse was spotted at the Lifeless house this morning.” I don’t make eye contact. Instead, I reach into the shopping bag and pull out some gauze and medical tape.
“I was careful.” Mouse’s voice is soft and closer than I anticipate. “I don’t understand.” This time it’s him who reaches for one of my hands, pulling it up to inspect. His eyes are sympathetic behind his black frames, and I tear my gaze from his, going back to adding some cream over each wound.
“Supposedly they’ve known you’ve been visiting me at night. It wasn’t just this morning.” I shrug a shoulder and start to lay gauze over my hand. It won’t be attractive, but the bandage will keep the blisters clean while they heal.
“Impossible.” He releases me and rubs a hand over the back of his neck.
I look up and narrow my eyes, holding my hands up, palms out. Wiggling my fingers, I snark back, “Does this look impossible?”
I instantly feel bad about the remorse that flickers in his eyes. I take a shaky breath, letting out some of the tension that’s built over the last few hours. Spots blur my vision and once more I have to blink past the lightheaded feeling.
Truly, it’s surprising that they knew Mouse had been in my apartment. Even I don’t always know when he’s around.
I wrapped my fingers with medical tape, securing the gauze in place and start in on the next hand.
“So what happened? Why are your hands and shoulder a wreck?” I look up at Tylin, and answer his question.
“I was ambushed when I got back to the Lifeless League.” I wonder what he’s thinking. His face doesn’t give me any indication that he even heard what I said. He’s simply a mask of sharp, cruel features.
Pain stings through my head as I glance around the room, looking at each guy in turn. Rory’s standing in the entryway to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. His arms are crossed, muscles pulling the sleeves of his t-shirt taut. He looks like an intimidating bodyguard.
More like a bouncer.
He’s just waiting for me to fuck up so he can throw me out on my ass. I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction to his intimidation tactics. I’m worn out and in no mood to deal with his trust issues.
“Armond was holding a meeting when I got back. I walked in late and he used me as an example.” My voice goes hard at the end of that statement. My organs still ache from the assault. That’ll happen when the life force is savagely ripped from your body. I’d been so close to death. I rub my newly bandaged fingertips over my chest, an echo of the pain a hollow reminder of the encounter. “He started draining me. I almost fucking died.”
“How did you escape?” Rory asks, skepticism and accusation thick in his question. It’s like he’s demanding I admit some form of treason.
My eyes shoot to Jameson, and I know he knows. He gives nothing away in his handsome features. Only silence.
“I used my power to get the hell out of there. I was cornered by the other assassins. I got scalded fending off attacks.” It’s a half truth. A little white lie. I did use my powers, but most of them don’t know about my extra abilities. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, though. I’m hopeful I’ll be able to skirt around that conversation for a little while longer.
Jameson, surprisingly, is true to his word. He keeps his big, sexy mouth shut. Why does that suddenly make him more attractive? I give him a small smile and his eyes heat, running over me from head to toe. It’s like he’s checking me for other injuries but enjoying the view at the same time.
The extra energy that I’m carrying suddenly flares to life, causing my heart to pick up speed. Thrumming, my blood simmers in my veins and my breath catches. My whole body is alive and my head spins from the extra powers that are still burning within me.
I need to sit down.
I need to expel Armond’s energy. I just have no clue how to do it.
Coming to my rescue, Jameson walks over in that sauntering way of his and slips behind me. Warm fingers grip my shoulders.
“Come on, babe. Let’s get you off your feet.” He’s being sweet. Now who’s the knight in shining armor? I admit, it’s nice to have someone looking after me.
“Heaven knows you didn’t get much sleep last night,” Jameson says, leaning into me, the heat of his body wraps over my shoulders like a warm blanket. His body language portrays that he’s confiding in me alone, but his voice is loud enough to carry to each of the remaining men in the kitchen. The fucker.
Tylin growls low in his throat at Jameson’s comment but doesn’t move a muscle. Leading me from behind, Jameson steers us out of the kitchen. When we reach the exit, however, Rory doesn’t budge. Standing sentry, he glares at me through narrowed eyes. The muscles of his arms flex, the only indication that he’s not a statue.
“Thank you for your protection, big guy, but I think I can fend off the advances of one beautiful woman.” Jameson teases the giant man and lets his hands spark to life on my shoulders to illustrate his point. Small jolts of pain shoot through my body, but instead of hurting, I feel my power mingling with his, sucking the sparking energy inside.
I’m like the fucking energizer bunny; super charged and ready for anything. I’m nearly shaking with the overload and the room is officially spinning around me. Every nerve in my body is hyper aware. My nipples are hard pebbles beneath my bra, the fabric causing zings of pleasure to shoot straight to my clit. A moan slips from my lips and I hear Jameson chuckling behind me.
I’m going to slap the man when I get the chance. I’d do it now, but he seems to be aiding in my escape. I just want to leave the vicinity.
After a long moment, Rory turns sideways, giving us permission to pass. I move forward to skirt around him, but Jameson closes the small distance between us, angling me sideways, my front to Rory’s. Stepping in behind me, he presses me into Rory, effectively sandwiching me between both of their hard bodies. I can feel each defined ridge of Rory’s stomach as my hands plaster against him. I push away to create a little space between the brooding asshole and myself, but all that does is press my ass into Jameson. The hard outline of him is evident against my curves.
Everything feels hazy but even within the haze I’m aware that Jameson is being a fucking asshole right now.
I wiggle against him, which also rubs me against Rory. I’m too far gone to care about his reaction. He can glower all he wants as long as he holds still. I feel the pleasuring pain of Jameson’s power zinging along my nerves and I can’t think straight. My chest heaves against Rory as I try to get enough oxygen, hoping it will help settle the world around me.
With a grunt, the brooding bouncer grips my hips and stills me. I look up at Rory with a dazed expression. The green of his eyes seems to darken and I wonder if the morning light bouncing around the kitchen is playing tricks on me.
We stand there, frozen and staring at each other. Then Mouse appears at my side and places a hand on my upper arm.
Without saying a word, he gives me a little shove and dislodges me from my spot between the two men. The look on his face is hard, and I try to calm the spinning enough to make sense of what’s happening around me. Mason looks upset. Why? Was he jealous of my attention toward his roommates? No, not just roommates. Teammates.
A team I’m not a part of. Not really. I’ve given up everything and I have no one left on my side.
It’s clear these guys don’t really include me. They use me.
I’ll admit that I’ve been using them too, but not anymore. I’m going to earn their trust. I’ll go to that stupid event and I’ll prove my worth. If I live through it, I’ll demand my place on their team. Until then, I’ll bide my time.
And survive the power that’s threatening my every breath right now.
I stumble up the staircase, and Mouse places a hand on my back, steadying me before I fall on my face. I practically crawl up the stairs and Mason guides me to a room at the end of a long hallway.
Once the door is open, he leads me to a large, comfortabl
e bed. I don’t even look around. I simply settle into the mattress and lay down, closing my eyes. I need the world to stop spiraling out of control. Fucking rollercoaster.
“What did you do to her?” Mason’s voice is hard as steel as he confronts someone. I don’t open my eyes to look. It’s just not that important.
“The right question would be what she did to herself.” Jameson helpfully points out but doesn’t give away my secret.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Mason is like a dog chasing a bone that’s hooked to a stick that’s attached to its back; the object he wants just out of reach.
I decide to end his suffering and save the headache of Jameson lying to his teammate and friend.
“I absorb power.” It comes out as a mumble, and I refuse to open my eyes. I don’t want to see the undulating room.
“You… absorb power?” he repeats. “Other people's power?”
“She does. She’s taken me inside her body twice now.” Jameson cocky innuendo doesn’t pass me by.
Why are they all so insufferable?
“You couldn’t have phrased that any dirtier.” I grumble, struggling to sit up. “I’ve taken his power inside of my body. Not his dick. He wishes.” I crack my eyes open and arch a brow in his direction.
“You’d be lucky to have my dick, sweetheart.” Jameson runs his hand down his body and dips the tips of his fingers in the low-slung waistband of his dark wash jeans. I focus on that hand even though I’m dizzy. I want his exploration to continue. He stops, leaving his hand where it is, teasing me.
Unfortunately, I know he’s right, but I’ll be dead before I stroke his ego. I could be persuaded to stroke something else though, if there was a promise of mutual satisfaction. A fire burns low in my belly and I clench my thighs together, trying to add pressure and relieve the tension that’s building.
A shiver wracks my body as another strong wave of energy overwhelms me. I feel like I’m dying. A beautiful, stimulating death.
