by Lola Dodge
I needed to do something, to contact someone, but no one in my endless list of contacts could help me process. Bile rose in my throat. There couldn’t be a deeper betrayal of the hero community.
Quan stiffened. “He’s on the way.”
Shaking off my shock, I’d X-ed out the windows as quick as I could and hopped around the desk. Quan simply leaned against the window, staring out at the city skyline like that was the most natural thing in the world.
I folded my shaking hands in my lap.
“Sorry to keep you…” Rich’s voice trailed at the sight of Quan.
I shrugged, hoping he couldn’t hear the thump of my pulse. “The bodyguard won’t leave me alone.” I wanted to sprint from the room, but I was afraid of what Rich would do if he knew I’d found him out. “Getting back to business—are you sure nothing’s been out of the ordinary here?”
“Nothing to report.” Rich set his elbows on the desk, leaning away from Quan, who hovered behind him. “I wish you luck with getting to the bottom of it.”
“I appreciate you humoring me.” I stood and waved for Quan, trying to draw on memories of normalcy. Follow-up. Be thorough. Don’t run out. “Can I e-mail you on the interns? Maybe I’ve written it off, but I’m still curious about the legality of it all.”
“Of course.” Rich tucked a few stray locks of hair behind his ears as he leaned into the monitor. “Why don’t you head back down? I’ll shoot you some info.”
I forced myself not to hustle out the door. “Thanks for the time, Rich. Sorry to bother you.”
Quan stuck close to my side, and I gripped his sleeve to avoid speeding up. Inside the elevator, I punched the button for the lobby, then fumbled to pry my phone out of my clutch.
“What’s—”
I clicked my tongue and flicked my eyes to the corners of the elevator. Quan got the hint. The cameras weren’t visible, but they were standard security. We couldn’t afford to leave any hints.
My phone was already out when a low hiss sounded. The air-conditioning kicking on? The elevator stopped and a wave of dread rolled from my head to my toes.
“Get down.” Quan pressed me to the floor.
A cloud of choking gas spilled from the vents.
Chapter Eleven
Quan
The hiss was all the warning we got. The gas burned my nose, and I practically body-slammed Angel to the floor. Fuck.
My fangs and claws lengthened on instinct, but I couldn’t fight a cloud. I wrapped Angel in my arms, trying to protect her, but my other instincts told me to run.
Fast.
“We need to get in the—” Angel coughed. “Into the shaft.”
Her eyes were red and watering, and all I could think of was tearing Rich’s throat out.
Oily fucking bastard.
Later.
My eyes stung, but I wasn’t human enough to go down so soon. I set Angel on the floor and sprang for the ceiling.
I pounded and clawed, but nothing.
Nothing.
The cat in me sensed the bars of a cage closing in as the gas worked its way into my system.
Angel was already limp. “Try…doors…” She coughed.
In her dress, in the smoke, she looked one of the spirit goddesses—but as her chest heaved, struggling to breathe…
I finally snapped.
Fuck these doors.
I pulled until my muscles corded and my veins ran with fire. A crack opened. I could barely see in the clouded air, but I pressed my nose and mouth into the gap, catching a clean breath.
Only Angel’s feet were visible in the haze. She wasn’t coughing anymore.
Throwing everything I had at the doors, I heaved. They barely eked open, but every inch was another fresh breath. We were three-quarters of the way between a floor.
I shouldered the gap open, wedging myself in and pushing with my feet. The metallic screech sliced my eardrums, but I had leverage now.
The opening was the sweetest sight. Gas spilled into the corridor—a dark hallway of offices.
I hauled Angel toward me, taking her into my arms. My chest burned, but a little smoke wouldn’t stop me. I pulled us over a ledge, onto the floor.
But where to run?
Angel’s chest rose and fell, and my overwhelming relief was as much a surprise as how good she felt against my chest.
Now’s not the fucking time.
Stairway? To where? If the dude had gas in the elevator, he obviously had plenty of other security.
Boots thudded down the corridor, making the decision for me. I sprinted in the opposite direction.
Too slow.
Carrying Angel was downing my speed, but it wasn’t like I had a second option.
Guys with guns spilled out of the stairway in front of me.
I wheeled, giving them my back, keeping Angel safe.
Half a dozen darts peppered my shoulders and torso in pricks of flame.
I managed not to crush her as I fell, breaking my fall around her, but Angel rolled out of my arms.
Boots neared, and a set of polished dress shoes that reeked of that tasteless smell—Rich.
Everything blurred.
Some fucking bodyguard I was.
Angel
My neck throbbed. I tried to stretch, but my arms and knees bumped something warm and—
I sucked in a breath, suddenly painfully aware.
Slivers of light revealed our grim situation, and I fought not to hyperventilate. Quan lay limp at my side, pressed against me in the claustrophobic wooden box.
The animal carrier.
Were we in the hotel, or had it been transported to the Pack’s tower? Or was this a third location?
Hijo de puta.
“Quan?” Quan’s body heat was making me sweat. I nudged him with an elbow. “Tequani?”
Still out.
I tried to wriggle further away, but space was tight with two of us in the box, and the hem of my skirt caught on a splinter. I froze before the fabric tore. I physically couldn’t avoid touching Quan.
Quan’s fingers against my shoulder, his warm skin—
Not now.
Quan springing, bearing me to the ground, glaring with orange eyes—
Gas choking the elevator as Quan presses into me again, wrapping me in his arms—
Whether from the box or the memories, I was going to suffocate. My breath came in shallow gasps.
It all seemed impossible.
Rich? My genial counterpart? I should’ve trusted Quan’s intuition, but I never would’ve believed this was possible.
Somehow, I needed to get in touch with the Ten. I didn’t bother groping in the dark for my phone—Rich was too clever to forget that detail. The best I could do was getting Quan awake. I’d need his strength on this one.
I poked his stomach, trying to get a response, but he must’ve gotten a stronger dose of drugs than I’d been exposed to. As much as I wanted to wriggle away and curl up in the corner at his feet, I had to get closer. I crawled upward, dress be damned, bringing our faces level.
“Quan.” I cupped his face between my hands. His breaths came deep, but even. Drugs for sure. The last I’d seen him, he was attacking the walls of the elevator like a beast, trying to free us both. Like a hazy dream, I recalled him carrying me away. It seemed wrong for him to be taken down and caged.
You did the same thing to him.
Yes, I did. But I’d had his best interest at heart. Now, that was even truer. Quan might not meet the definition of upstanding citizen, but he’d obviously fought for me.
“Quan.” I rubbed his head, the same as I had with his panther self. “I need you to wake up now.” His skin was silk smooth, and my arms pebbled. Nothing about this situation was pleasurable, but the physical touch settled my nerves. “Te
quani.”
His eyelids fluttered open—beacons of orange-brown in the dim crate. Quan’s body froze in predatory stillness, all of his intensity bearing down on me. “You’re okay?”
“I am.” I moved to withdraw my hands, but he held them, pressed against his cheek. He had to be able to feel my pulse thumping, but I didn’t draw away. “You?”
“Darts.” Quan’s gaze shifted, following the corners of the box. “Where are we?”
“I’m not sure.” I tried to stay even, but this crate was pressing all my buttons, and my voice quavered. “Can you get us out of here?”
Quan set his hand on my head—in reassurance? “On it.”
Another touch to remember forever. I didn’t want to think how many shadows of this man were already burned into my memory and how many more would form before we got out of this.
I refused to let if enter the equation.
We would get free.
Rich would probably spin a tale at UCLA, but his excuses would never fly with Tank, Ruin, Thunder, Ivory, Panther and the rest of the crew. Even Pixie would be suspicious. All of them knew me too well, and when they combined their efforts…
Imagining what they’d do almost made me pity Rich.
Almost.
“Go to the other side.” Quan scrunched his body, moving to one end of the crate, while I crawled to the other—our shoulders brushed in transit and I shivered. I’d never be able to forget this. “And cover your eyes.”
Because he didn’t want me to watch, or—?
Quan attacked the wooden crate. Dust and splinters flew, and I quickly covered my face with my hands. Thuds and creaking wood marked his progress and the sound was fairly frightening. That power…
When the box shook around me, I peeked. A ragged, splintered hole cut through Quan’s end of the crate. My shoulders relaxed—that was one hurdle out of the way.
Quan unfolded, venturing into the outside with a tense, wary posture, but he quickly offered me a hand out. “It’s clear.”
I crawled ahead and he pulled me into a fluorescent brightness that made me squint. The room was a sterile white square, unbroken by windows or doors. My heart sank. We had these same facilities underneath the Ten’s tower. The walls of the cells and the entire area would be lined with lead and dozens of other smothering, suppressing layers geared toward negating super powers.
“This is the Pack’s holding facility.” These spaces were generally reserved for super-powered criminals and they were equipped with every possible security feature to stop prisoners from breaking or being broken out.
Something damp touched my palm, and I realized I hadn’t released Quan’s hand. He stood, rigid, squinting against the lights.
“Your knuckles are bleeding.” I started to tear fabric away from my already ruined dress, but Quan stopped my hands.
“Don’t.”
“You’re bleeding.”
He glanced at the ragged skin like he was looking at a paper cut. “I heal fast.”
I’ve heard that before. Fast wasn’t the same as instantly, and I didn’t like the idea of Quan standing there bleeding.
“Sit.” I pushed his shoulders, and he complied, sinking to the floor, though his look said he was obviously humoring me.
I ripped a few strips from the clean lining of my hem and carefully wrapped the base of his fingers. The room was impossibly quiet—our breathing was loud, and each touch against Quan’s skin overloaded me with stimuli.
Quan pressing me against his chest as he pulls us free of the elevator, running to protect us—
“Thank you.” I tied a gentle knot and started to rip a second bandage. “For trying to get us out.”
Air whuffed from his nose. “Some help.”
“You did everything you could.” I set to wrapping the second hand and tried to focus our current problem instead of whatever relationship was evolving between us. “At least we know where we are. I wouldn’t say getting out is impossible, but…”
I’d reviewed the schematics for these cells, and audio and video surveillance were definitely among their features. But would they be enabled? I assumed our capture was off the books, so unless Rich had a way to conceal certain security feeds, he wouldn’t want some night watchman catching a glimpse of us in captivity.
Or did he own the entire security team? In a conspiracy this deep, he had to have allies. Either way, it was best to assume we were being watched.
Frustration gripped my shoulders.
I simply hadn’t had enough time observing Rich to be able to predict his next move. The fact that we weren’t dead was promising—Rich could’ve killed us already if that was what he wanted.
Although precisely what he wanted was still vague. I just couldn’t imagine what a super, let alone the manager of a hero crew, could get out of a relationship with anti-hero groups. They’d be as likely to kill Rich as any other super.
By the time I finished tying Quan’s second bandage, I hadn’t come up with a game-changing plan. “We’ll have to wait until Rich wants to chat.”
Quan rose to his feet and padded a circle around the cell. Only the smashed crate detracted from the endless white background. Why bother bringing it here?
A chill settled into my bones.
Rich was clearing his tracks. Moving the crate, probably removing our few things from the hotel room and making sure no loose ends were left for the Ten to track.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Rich had been in his position for five years. He’d obviously snuck in some practice on shady dealings.
I sat against the wall and Quan settled in beside me, not quite touching, but close. Surprising myself, I shifted the last inch until our shoulders brushed. I needed to feel connected to something.
To someone.
It was probably safe to add Quan to the list of people I could fully trust. Having him and his strength at my side increased the chance of a successful escape.
And you like having him there…
If I did, I couldn’t find anything wrong with it. I’d always worried that my memories of men would be distracting, but I couldn’t see looking back on these moments with Quan as anything but comforting. For now, my head was surprisingly quiet. So very surprisingly quiet.
What that meant…
I wasn’t sure yet.
Chapter Twelve
Quan
I froze as Angel leaned into my side. Playing it cool was easy enough—that was my default setting. But as her breathing slowed and her head lolled against my arm in sleep…
Cool wasn’t on the menu anymore.
I’d guessed my feelings were growing, but somehow I’d gone from annoyance to casual interest to wanting to wrap Angel in my arms and watch her breathe.
What was it about her?
I flexed my knuckles, ready to punch through the wall to get us free, and the soft bandages tugged. That was part of Angel’s appeal. Gentle heart, iron will.
Fuck.
How did this happen?
All of it?
I’d wanted a break from the jungle—not a 180-degree life change. Now I was fully involved in this superhero shit and not sure what to feel about the chains that Angel had on me. Feeling her pressed against me…
Don’t play like you don’t want more of it.
It was going to be a complex fucking mess and I was going to lap it up. Because where could we go? Her the general of superheroes and me…
The rule breaker? Troublemaker?
Problem one was getting out of this hellhole. I couldn’t see where the door was supposed to be, but a draft said there had to be a way. If we could get in, we could get out.
Then I’d deal with this woman, worming her way into my heart.
Angel
A rumbling sound woke me from my doze.
My doze.
This was my first successful nap in more than six years. I had to assume the panther pillow was the source of my restfulness, because the environment was nothing but stress.
“Something’s coming.” Quan tensed at my side.
The ceiling lights cut and I reflexively clutched Quan’s arm in the darkness. His hand covered mine, soothing my nerves.
We’ll get through this.
Lights shone again, this time from the floor, lighting the now clear ceiling like a spotlight. Rich stood over us on a layer of plexi, two armed guards at his side.
He wore a collared shirt and khakis, suggesting that this was a normal work day for him, and his expression was nothing but smug. “Comfortable down there?”
Quan’s muscled tightened, but I used our contact to hold him back. This was going to be a verbal battle. I had to maneuver us into the right position before Quan could come into play. They’d drug him or worse if he got too aggressive too soon.
Reluctantly, I disentangled our arms. “What are we playing here, Rich?”
His brows lifted over his glasses. “Haven’t you guessed?”
“I have any number of guesses.” Power. Money. Whatever Rich was getting, it wasn’t worth it. I stood, using Quan’s shoulder to lever myself, and hoping he’d take the hint to stay seated. “But it’s all speculation until I hear it from you.”
“Maybe I am the smarter one.” Rich hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, as pleased as anything.
My breath caught in my throat. He couldn’t really have such a petty motivation.
Could he?
“Enlighten me.” I took a few small steps toward Rich’s position on the plexi-ceiling. The guards didn’t flinch—their guns stayed leveled at Quan.
Perfect.
“What do you suspect?” he asked, blue eyes glowing as he enjoyed the chance to toy with me.
“I know you were collaborating with the anti-supers, but to what extent and why? I have no idea.”
“Why?” Rich peered down. “I know you understand that much.”