He shook his head, walked to the kitchen and pulled a Coke out of the fridge. He needed a break to think of his next move. She was either crazy or had information he needed. Or both. Whichever it was, he wanted to keep her talking.
“Want a drink?” he called.
“No.”
“Right, that would require you to show your face.”
“Do you want to hear this or not?” she snapped.
He opened the Coke and leaned in the kitchen doorway. “If I hadn’t seen the bank video, I’d think you were insane. And I’d be arresting you for breaking into my apartment.”
“But you’ve seen what Jack can do. And you need me.”
“Maybe.” He chugged the Coke, wishing it were beer. But not while he was on duty. Okay, probably not ever, if he was being honest with himself. “But why come to me? Sure, I’m a detective, but I wasn’t the senior detective on the scene.”
“I saw you there,” she said in a whisper. “I saw how you reacted to the victims. You care. You want to help.”
“You were watching me?” Just how had she snuck into the crime scene?
“I was looking for Jack.” A pause. “I picked up his trail but I got there too late.”
“I didn’t see anyone who looked remotely like you.” Though how could he know that when he really hadn’t seen her? There was no telling what she looked like without the cape, cowl, hat and all that black leather.
“I stayed out of sight,” she said.
“I’ll bet.” He sighed. “Look, I know Jack’s real. I know I need to catch him. That’s why I’m listening to you. But how do I know your information is good? For all I know, you’re as crazy as he is.”
“I can tell you what kind of equipment Jill uses for her lab and some of the chemicals she needs. Would that help track her down to where the hostage might be?”
“It would.” It definitely would. Crazy or not, it was the best lead he had, and that missing bank teller wasn’t getting any safer as time passed. But he needed more to go on.
Al set the empty can on the counter. “The thing is, I need a reason to trust you. For all I know, you could be working with Jack and Jill. Or making them up. Or have a hidden agenda. Right now, all I have is someone who broke into my place. You see the problem?”
She stood and the cape swirled around her. “I’ve got to stop them. I’ve got to save the hostage.”
“Why you?” he said. “What’s your angle?”
She said nothing.
“Maybe you have a speech ready about great power bringing great responsibility?”
She snorted. “Not likely.”
“At least let me see your face. I can’t trust someone who won’t look me in the eye.”
“You’ll be waiting a long time for that.” She put out a hand. “But, yeah, I see your problem. I know I sound crazy—” She began pulling off a glove, finger by finger. “Like I said, Jill’s playing with altering DNA. I don’t know exactly what she’s doing. I didn’t pay enough attention in science class, I guess. But I’m familiar with the results.”
Noir finished taking off the glove and held up her arm for inspection. “Jill did this to me.”
There was no hand above the wrist cuff.
“She cut off your hand? Fuck!” Al walked closer.
“No, you’ve got it wrong,” she said. “Hold out your hand and I’ll show you.”
He did as she asked. She extended the arm that ended at the wrist to him, as if she meant to give him a phantom handshake.
His hand was gripped by…something. It felt just like a handshake. He could feel the impressions of her fingers on the back of his hand.
But he couldn’t see them.
His mouth fell open. “Your hand is invisible?”
“Not just my hand.” Her grip tightened. “My whole body is invisible.”
Kiss your powers goodbye.
Temptress
© 2012 Lola Dodge
Kidnapping a super-powered suspected felon from a Vegas bachelor party is another day at the office for Jenny Ray, alias Temptress. With one kiss, any naughty supe’s powers are hers. Except this time she’s caught by her mark’s boss, who’s no ordinary superhero.
It’s Thinktank, leader of the toughest hero crew around. One destroyed men’s room and near-toilet-drowning later, Jenny’s forced to steal an innocent hero’s powers.
For a super brain, Tank’s feeling pretty idiotic. First, he let Jenny close enough to get to him. Second, he’s helpless against the tide of desire that rises in him every time he kisses her. Which he’s doing a lot, since she’s trying to give him back his power—only it’s not working. As he shadows her on her various freelance casino security jobs, he realizes she’s no she-demon—she’s a time bomb. Her acquired powers are shredding her, body and soul.
As they give in to desire, a shadowy figure from Jenny’s past surfaces with a kidnapping plan of his own. Jenny will do anything—even level Las Vegas—to rescue the man she loves. But there may not be anything left of her when the dust settles.
Warning: Contains high-stakes poker, high-end cocktails, and high-flying over Las Vegas skies. Never drink and fly!
Enjoy the following excerpt for Temptress:
“Robert Donavan, alias Steel.” The cuffs clicked. “I’m authorized to take you into custody under section three point eight of the Superhero Justice Act. You’re to be tried for the rape of one Miranda Hutchins.”
His eyes widened. With his super-strength, he could’ve snapped the chain, but he didn’t have the time. I lowered my mouth. As soon as our lips met, it was too late.
He gasped, but my power worked fast. I sucked in his breath, sifting through his life force until I sensed the glowing center of his being. His powers. Once I could feel them, they were mine.
Steel’s eyes rolled back, and he sagged against the bed. I left him cuffed and disentangled to straighten my dress and hair.
That was one obstacle down. Now all I had to do was get a three hundred pound lump of unconscious muscle past seven of his closest hero friends, out of the club and down to the station.
It was asking a lot, considering I was just freelance. But who else could do it? If they got to keep their powers, supers tended not to sit around and wait for trial.
Hooray for justice.
With Steel’s strength coursing through me, giddiness outweighed my nerves. I could make this work. I had plenty of powers of my own. As long as I kept it stealth, I’d be fine. Though Iron Chef was looking like a bust.
I hovered up to the ventilation panel in the ceiling and heaved it open. It was big enough that I could squeeze in, but Steel’s shoulders were twice as wide as mine. That was out. I could make us both invisible and walk out the door, but that wouldn’t fly with Thinktank outside. A little invisibility wouldn’t fool him.
Widening my eyes, I focused on the walls. My vision sank through the layers. Paint, drywall, frames and wiring, and back out again. We shared one wall with the club, one with the VIP lounge and one with another private suite where Jet was occupied with a couple of strippers. I flinched away.
The fourth wall was more promising. It connected to an empty men’s bathroom, and I stretched my vision further.
Two women were touching up their lip-gloss in the adjoining women’s bathroom, and past that the only other obstacle was a service hallway. Through there, I could get into an alley, go invisible and fly away. The ladies grabbed their purses. I grinned and cut the X-rays.
The handcuff key was tucked in my bra, but I wanted to test my new strength. It was always best to show a new power who’s boss.
I gripped the metal headboard and pulled. Decorative iron snapped, and Steel slipped free.
I flipped him over my shoulders. He reeked of booze and sweat, but the smell was the only way I could tell he was there. This whole super-strength thing was clutch, though I knew I’d regret it later. I even had a free hand to press through the wall.
My skin tingled. Steel’s weight hi
t me as I yanked him through. It took three times more focus than usual, and I almost snagged him on a hot water pipe. Breathing hard, I stumbled into the men’s bathroom.
I was halfway to the sinks when the door cracked against the wall. Thinktank thundered in with energy crackling around his temples. Of course it was him.
Why hadn’t I checked his dossier before the mission? Right. He was supposed to be in New York. I knew he could read minds, but there was definitely more, and he looked way too muscular for a brain. His power jabbed against my skull like a fist squeezing my brain.
“Who do you work for?” With the question, pain jolted so hard my knees almost gave.
Fight or flight? I could win if I had to, but it wouldn’t be pretty afterward, and Thinktank hadn’t done anything wrong. It was time to cut my losses and run.
I swung Steel off my shoulders and tossed him like a horseshoe. He hit Thinktank like the whole horse, and they crashed into the bank of urinals.
I sprinted for the wall. God, I needed a teleporter to break some laws. This was ridiculous.
I dove. Thinktank’s energy contracted around me. Instead of going through the wall, I face-planted. White streaks shot through my vision as my nose made a sickening crunch.
Blood dripped to stain my dress. I glared over the hand cupped to my face.
Steel lay crumpled under the spray of a shattered urinal, but Thinktank was on his feet and approaching. The closer he came, the more my head ached. I couldn’t let him get his hands on me. Which meant letting loose the fireworks.
I flung my hands, casting a wall of fire between us. He cursed and jumped back. If the flames burned him half as badly as they seared my skin, it was worth it.
Another pang, and the fire guttered. Thinktank looked sooty but unharmed.
Bastard.
I let loose a wave of ice, with some laser beams for good measure. The cold was excruciating on burnt skin, and the lasers felt like atomic buffalo sauce jetting through my retinas. So much for my TV lineup. Or being coherent the next few days. My body was going to hate me for using this many acquired powers.
Thinktank dodged, lifting his fingers to his temples. A laser sizzled into his arm just before it fizzled. I slipped on leftover ice as his power clamped down.
He grabbed me by the back of the neck and kicked open a stall. “Who do you work for?”
With the question, Thinktank plunged my face into the toilet.
Ick. Cold. Disgusting.
I spluttered and kicked, but he must’ve done this before. His grip wouldn’t budge. I thrashed harder.
“The Rogue Alliance?” He plucked me out and thrust me down again.
Couldn’t the bastard just read my mind? If he couldn’t, I had one more card left. He was going to pay for making me use it.
Suppressing the urge to vomit, I took a huge gulp of toilet water. It tasted like bleach and things I didn’t want to think about, but thanks to the wannabe pirate/merman I’d apprehended off Somalia, my body pulled out enough oxygen to clear the spots from my eyes. I let my limbs go limp.
Thinktank hoisted me up and peered into my eyes. His mental hold relaxed—just barely. It was enough.
Gluing my mouth to his, I gave him back some of the nasty water as I sucked out his powers. He toppled, and I collapsed on him, hacking up whatever I’d swallowed.
My lungs burned and my body ached, but I scrabbled over to Steel. I dragged him out of a puddle and headed for the wall.
Thinktank twitched. I really, really wanted to leave him. He’d interfered with my sting and almost blown the mission. And what kind of guy had the stomach to keep a rapist on his crime-fighting squad?
But whatever Thinktank’s questionable leadership policies, he was a hero. Bona-fide. He saved babies from four-alarm fires, disarmed bio-weapons and had kicked enough supervillain ass to warrant a knighthood, a Congressional Medal of Honor and a Nobel Peace Prize. Anyone with a TV knew that much.
He was a good guy. And I’d have to give him back his powers.
I grabbed each of the heroes by an arm and dragged them through the wall, glancing back in time to see Red Ruin and The Annihilator tear through the door.
They had no chance with their leader out of commission. We flashed invisible as I flew us out into the alley and into the air.
Vegas glittered below us, but hauling the men took away from the spectacle. Just because I could lift them didn’t mean I should. Pain ripped up my arms, tearing through my shoulders.
We were all going to have dislocated shoulders if I didn’t get to the station soon, and hauling both of them, I couldn’t exactly jet. Despite the pain, I shivered. Even in summer, Vegas got cold when the sun set.
Phoenix Legacy
Corrina Lawson
A man too dangerous to live. A woman whose survival depends on forgiving him.
The Phoenix Institute, Book 2
Philip Drake is immortal by virtue of a psychic power that heals all but the worst injuries. He’s needed every bit of it as a black ops agent, a life so violent that the line between pain and pleasure is tangled up in his head.
When he walks away from the CIA, the last thing he expects is to discover someone stole his DNA to create a race of super-healers. And that the expectant mother is a woman from his past who’d consider it her pleasure to spit on his grave.
One moment, Delilah Sefton is listening to a seriously hot, seriously deranged man giving her some half-baked explanation as to why she’s pregnant with no memory of how she got that way. The next, armed men swarm into her bar, and she and Mr. Sexy-Crazy are on the run.
Safety at the Phoenix Institute is only temporary, but it’s long enough to put the pieces together. A madman plans to steal her son in a plot to take over the world. And to stop him, she must learn to trust the baby’s father—a man she blames for her greatest loss.
Warning: This novel contains fast cars (that are driven), numerous guns (that are shot), a hero who prefers pain over love, and a heroine determined to fight for those she loves.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Phoenix Legacy
Copyright © 2012 by Corrina Lawson
ISBN:
Edited by Jennifer Miller
Cover by Kanaxa
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First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2012
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Phoenix Legacy Page 27