Urban Justice (A Chicago Vigilantes Novel Book 2)

by India Kells

  “If you need to rest, say so. Don’t put it on me.”

  Blue bruises shone brightly in the dim light, and she clenched her jaw for a second before she spoke again. “I think we both need to rest a minute. And think about our next move.”

  Another surprise, a point they could both agree on. Luke carefully lowered himself to the ground as Sloane used the wall in front of him to slide herself down.

  He was sweating abundantly now, but even if he dreamed of ditching the smelly coat, he preferred to keep his temperature up. Another effect of blood loss was thirst, but he couldn’t focus on that, not now. He needed to divert all his energies to his brain cells.

  “There’s less dust here, more air.”

  Luke looked around, although there wasn’t much he could see past the flashlight’s beam. “We should be approaching an air vent.” He wiped at his forehead and didn’t have to look to know his hand came away covered in blood.

  Without a word, Sloane unfastened her suit. It was more complex than it appeared, and from the way it covered her body, he now better understood how he could’ve been fooled. The pieces were assembled to make her appear bulkier than in reality, drawing attention away from her chest and more to her shoulders. Only her height could’ve been a sign, but not all men were six-feet tall. Combine everything with speed and shadows, and there was no way to know if it was a man or woman.

  With the top layer of her suit opened, she took a blade from her boot, deftly cutting off the bottom half of what seemed like a gray sports top before handing him the piece of fabric. “I would help you put it on, but you don’t seem to want me near you for the time being.”

  As she settled back, with her bare midriff showing, his eyes lingered on the soft expanse of skin revealing a wealth of bruises. The woman was contradiction incarnated, and he suspected he didn’t know the half of it, though he was smart enough not to toss back the makeshift bandage and used it to cover his gash.

  In the meantime, Sloane had slid the blade back in place and leaned against the wall, her eyes closing. Pale as she was, she almost glowed against the dark background, her hair forming a halo of color around her head and down her shoulders. He remembered how she felt under his hands, soft but hard, yielding but strong, all at the same time. She would have to be those things and much more to be the Vigilante. How could she do it, night after night, risking her life? What motivated her? What was in it for her?”

  More questions that made him want to snarl. He must have made a sound because her blue eyes shot open.

  “Can you hear something?”

  Luke shook his head. No noise, apart from what they made.

  “Why did you lie to me?” The question was out before he could stop himself, but he was almost bursting at the seams holding himself back. If he didn’t find a release valve, he might go mad.

  Her shoulders drooped a little. “What would you have me say? Please help me, I’m the Vigilante? I didn’t even know if I could trust you with our mission, let alone confide in you. There are very few people who know of our existence, let alone our identity.”

  “Why now? Why reveal yourself to me here?”

  Sloane winced and touched her sternum. “The voice modulator. One of the bullets must have damaged it, and I couldn’t speak clearly anymore. Without it, you would’ve recognized me anyway, so I didn’t have a reason to hide my identity,”

  Fists clenching hard, Luke laughed, filled with sarcasm. “So I see. It’s not because you trust me that you removed your mask. It’s because you didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

  This time, he got a reaction out of her when she tensed. “We’ve known each other for less than a week!”

  “And you asked me for help! I’m pretty sure you and your friends, whoever they are, must have checked everything about me before you even set foot on campus.” Now his anger had gained momentum as she reacted to him, fueling the fire that was burning his common sense.

  “Not that much. We were searching for someone with knowledge of the tunnels and your name came up. I was so eager to meet you that I went to the university. I didn’t even know what you looked like. I expected a paunchy old man.”

  He gaped at her. “Paunchy?”

  “Yeah. Lucian Radcliffe. Add ‘the third’ after it, and it’s the poshest, most pompous name I’ve ever heard.”

  This was utter lunacy. “Maybe it would’ve been preferable for you to have found an old, white-haired scholar as your informant. Although you may have needed to find another way to seal the deal aside from fucking him on the kitchen floor! Is that one of the services offered by the Vigilante or was I just lucky?”

  He knew he’d struck a chord when she rose to her knees, ready to retaliate. “You think so little of me?”

  His voice escalated to a roar. “I. Don’t. Know. You!”

  Silence descended between them, and just when Luke thought Sloane would jump at his throat, she reined herself in instead. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Her words remained suspended in the tunnel for a moment, enough for him to regain his calm, or at least, some of it. “I come from the corps. It’s ingrained in me to trust my teammates. When you came to me as Sloane, I wasn’t sure. I know from experience how empty words can be. The Vigilante, when he, you, saved me outside my apartment, I could relate. There was no way to hide, not your intentions, not your true purpose, and that encouraged me to agree to work with you. I told you I didn’t want to be played and that if that was the case, you’d need to find someone else to help you. I told you, and that was the moment you should have revealed you were the Vigilante. Not fuck me on the floor.”

  At that moment, Luke expected the entire truth, or another lie. He could deal with keeping secrets. There were so many of them he kept from his time in the Marines, so many missions and Intel he would carry to his grave. One more wouldn’t make a difference. Bottom line, he wanted to help, but not without getting the facts straight and deciding for himself if he could live with the consequences.

  Sloane hesitated, which didn’t bode well, and until she opened her mouth and spoke, he had no idea what she would say.

  “I... went to you in the kitchen, not to sway your decision or to get your agreement, but because the thought of tasting your mouth and your skin had been gnawing at me since I’d first met you. You could’ve said no to this mission and I would’ve walked away. I don’t use sex as a tool or a weapon. It is too... intimate. Human interactions are already complex enough without adding emotions into the mix. Especially since I’m not good with them to begin with.”

  Her voice was soft, tentative. “I’m the middle child of seven siblings. Toronto doesn’t have the reputation of Chicago, but there are parts of the city that could give this one a run for its money. My father was a bus driver, my mother was just trying to get by. Some people would say they skimped on our education, so it somehow reflects on how I act or react. I worked hard at tempering my impulses. Work, experience, brought me that, alongside bruises, scars, and burns. I transformed those impulses into calculated risks that brought me here. It wasn’t a straight line, but one I chose. I may avoid and divert, but I don’t play games. I don’t know you well, and I don’t know why, but I don’t want to lie to you. Not everybody would be so selfless to defend a perfect stranger for a mission that may very well kill him.”

  There was the faintest hint of a smile coloring her voice. She hadn’t answered his questions, not really, but her confession sounded sincere, which appeased him to a certain degree, a sort of first step.

  “You said our and we. How many are there at Noctem? How many work for you?”

  A smile, full of amusement, lit her face. “We’re a team. Otherwise, we’d kill each other. Although we do have a ringleader who keeps us freaks in line.” As she spoke, her laughter turned into a cough, and her mirth vanished as she held her middle. Discussion time was over.

  Luke pushed himself up, his muscles screaming. Once in front of her, he offered his hand. “We’ll fin
ish this chat, but do you mind if we wait until after a shower and coffee?”

  Her smile returned as she clasped his hand. “Gimme chocolate and a bunch of painkillers and you have a deal, pal.”

  Chapter 13

  Sloane hated sewers! The only benefit apart from finding where the traffickers had gone, was that it obliterated the awful smell coming from Luke’s borrowed outfit.

  The dead end was so surprising, Luke decided to backtrack to check they hadn’t missed an opening or vent where the traffickers had gone through.

  The sewer system exited into the street, right in the open. Sloane doubted those boys were stupid enough to risk being seen unloading large quantities in the open and dropping it down the manhole. Another interesting point was that it was the only manhole where there was enough space to fit someone underneath. On the right and left, the system became even smaller. If they crawled into it, they might be able to get through,

  but if she took into consideration the ten-minute window, it was highly improbable.

  When they couldn’t find anything else in the tunnels, they returned to the manhole cover to take a peek. Not only were they under a street, but at an intersection with traffic lights.

  The cold temperature pierced like a dagger through her tired and worn body, but she soldiered on, as she was more worried about Luke’s head injury than her own aches and pains. The rocks hadn’t only hurt his head, she could see he moved less easily than before.

  They had to crawl to another manhole to be able to exit more discreetly and rushed to where she’d stashed the car.

  Locked inside the car, she started the engine and turned the heating to the highest setting.

  In the glove compartment, she took out a bottle of water and handed it to Luke. “Drink, please. Head wounds are tricky. You need to keep your fluids up.”

  It was obvious he was ready to argue but gulped down half the bottle before putting it in her hand. Despite her parched throat, her fingers went to his forehead, checking the makeshift bandage with light fingers. “I think it stopped bleeding. It’s probably just a flesh wound.”

  She knew Luke was still guarded and mostly pissed at her, but she felt relief when he didn’t pull away from her touch. Instead, he took her hand in his, squeezing gently.

  “I’m fine. I have a thick skull. My head doesn’t hurt.”

  How many times she had heard the same from the male members of her team. “Yeah, well, thick or not, you’re gonna see a doctor.”

  With an arched eyebrow, Luke seemed surprised. “I think you should see one too, but maybe it would be wiser to change first.”

  “As she’s part of our team, I think that how we’re dressed won’t be an issue. Your smell might cause a problem though.”

  White teeth sliced through the dark beard. “You’re far from smelling like roses yourself.”

  Wiggling her nose, she was preparing a comeback when the car’s comm system came to life, buzzing with an incoming call that she answered.

  “Hey, Sloane speaking.” There was a slight hesitation. “Luke is with me. He knows.” Those last two words felt so weird in her mouth, but it was the truth.

  “I think I need to tell someone, but I don’t know if I want to ruin the rest of my day.”

  Devin was at the comms again, and Sloane was tempted to lean her forehead on the wheel. Typically, she’d have taken the hacker’s sarcasm head-on, but her energy and tolerance were blinking on empty. “Luke requires a medic.” At least her words had the advantage of bringing back the urgency without having her to slap him on the back of his head.

  “And Sloane has to be checked too.”

  That ended the conversation and Devin grew serious. “Melina is already here. Can you drive, or do you need backup?”

  “We’re on our way.”

  He hadn’t said anything for the rest of the ride, but Sloane didn’t have to look to know that Luke took notice of every second of the route she was taking. Devin had uploaded the safest and quickest way to Noctem, and she was grateful for it when the garage door opened, and they were inside. Lance stood at the parking space, all tall and brooding, at the ready.

  “Welcome to Noctem, professor. Hope you don’t come to regret it.”

  Unfolding out of the car was an exercise in pain, but Sloane wasn’t going to show it.

  Lance scanned her body and the state of her suit and it was clear he didn’t believe her little show, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

  Lance turned to Luke, and the air shifted. The professor stood by the car, and the tension spiked. Nobody could physically compare to Lance’s massive body, but Luke Radcliffe wasn’t going to back down. Despite being grimy and wounded he took a step forward and the air of danger enveloping him told her the former Marine was barely concealed beneath the veneer of the scholar.

  Lance must have sensed that too, as his shoulders rolled and he nodded. “Professor Radcliffe. I’m Lance Sorenson. Welcome to Noctem.” It was clear Lance wasn’t happy about the circumstances, but there was no turning back now.

  Luke took his hand. “Please call me Luke.”

  Again, the two men sized each other up, not quite breaking the handshake when Melina walked in, the British doctor deeply annoyed. “Oh, for goodness’ sake! Lance! We have two people injured, and you’re standing around shaking hands?” The platinum-blonde woman quickly took charge of the situation with a glance, immediately going to Luke. “Stand down, Lance. You can see he has a head wound. Explanations and face-offs will have to wait until I’m done with him.” Her face softened into a smile when she addressed Luke. “I’m Melina and a doctor. Could you please follow me to the medic bay?”

  Luke sighed. “Could you check Sloane first? She was hit with at least five bullets in her body armor.”

  Both Lance and Melina swiveled to Sloane with a jerk.

  “Guys, it’s not the first I’ve been shot at. Can you just check Luke? Please?”

  Just standing was draining her, but it was her worry for Luke that was the hardest to manage.

  Luke rounded the car and went to her. He looked like hell, and she probably wasn’t any better. With a hand on her naked waist, his thumb stoked a little before he pushed her forward. “Lead the way, doctor. We’re both going in.”

  Luke followed Melina as she left, and he didn’t let go of Sloane until he was instructed to sit on the examination table. Sloane leaned against the wall while Lance remained standing by the door.

  When Luke discarded the coat and sweater, it was clear that none of the garments were salvageable, and Lance took everything away. She saw extensive bruises on his back, mixed with older scars. Were they from his time as a Marine? She knew so little about him beyond what she’d seen in his office, found in her web search, and the tidbits he’d let slip.

  As Melina unwrapped his head, all Sloane’s attention was on the wound. Could he be suffering from more than a gash? He’d said he’d had a headache since the explosion.

  Melina continued her examination, cleaning the wound, asking questions, probing, and touching, even bringing a smile to Luke’s face and unease tightened in the pit of Sloane’s stomach. It was like a slimy knot, slowly expanding with every passing minute. Unsettled, she became fidgety, trying to tell herself she was tired and the pain was messing with her brain until she exploded, and kicked a nearby trash can with more force than was necessary.

  Not only didn’t it make her feel better, but now three sets of eyes were on her, and she couldn’t say a word to save her life. With an improbable blush creeping up her cheeks, Sloane mumbled something about getting the rest of her suit off and walked away as quickly as possible, or fast as her body would allow.

  In the changing room, she’d at least have a minute to analyze what had just happened, but that alone time was brief when Lance walked in.

  “Care to tell me what that was all about?”

  The hell if she knew, and instead of answering, she sat on the bench to remove her boots.

 
“I’m talking to you, Sloane Friday. Unless you received a blow to your head too.”

  “Give me five damn seconds. Is that too much to ask?”

  It had been years since she’d felt this undone, just after she left the force. She shed her pants, letting them fall on the ground.

  “Damn, Sloane.” It was obvious by the catch in his voice that the bruises looked worse than she thought, and to be honest with herself, she didn’t care at the moment. “You need to…”

  Grabbing a pair of sweatpants and hoodie, she put on some sneakers before facing him. “Lance, please, I just need... You know me. Sometimes, I don’t feel like myself, and it’s happening now, and I don’t want to hurt anybody, and in this state, you know I will.”

  To his credit, he didn’t reach for her, but it was clear he was concerned. “I know where you’re headed and you need to rest, not go for a ride.”

  “I’ll go with her.” Luke, still bare-chested with a fresh dressing on his forehead, a much smaller one this time, arrived followed by an angry Melina.

  “You, Sloane Friday, aren’t going anywhere until I examine you. Luke is worried, and said he only agreed to be examined first because you were concerned for his head, which is only a gash near the hairline and nothing serious.”

  That statement only made Sloane more unhinged, until Luke came forward, dark eyes even deeper than before until he rubbed shoulders with her. A simple touch that strangely helped.

  He leaned close to her ear so the others wouldn’t hear. “Go get checked out, and then we can go anywhere you want. I’m not letting you out of my sight, especially since there are a few more questions that have popped into my head. And we have a mission to finish.”

  The familiar hand pushed her forward, back to the medical bay.

  Melina yelled after them. “Be ready when I get there, Sloane. Especially if you want me to be quick.”

  Lance stayed behind, probably talking to Melina behind her back, and Luke’s too.

  Reaching the bay, Luke entered behind her.