V: The V in Vengeance

by Snyder, J. M.

  A comforting hand dropped to Matt’s shoulder, silencing him. Vic’s strength was a pillar of support beside him, and Matt choked back a sob. His car…before his mind could run away with that, Vic’s fingers gripped his shoulder and his lover’s presence eased into Matt’s thoughts, soothing him. Still. His car.

  He glanced at his lover and frowned to see Vic’s eyes shut, face scrunched in concentration. “Vic?” Matt ventured. “Do you think we should—”

  “Shh.” The hand on his shoulder tightened, then relaxed. Those stern blue eyes opened, but Vic’s brow remained furrowed in thought. “They’re nearby. Bunch of punks. Tore out your stereo.”

  Matt grasped Vic’s hand in both his. “What? How do you—”

  With one thick forefinger, Vic tapped his temple. “I picked them up. They’re the only ones moving around at this hour, you know? Listen. Take Sadie back upstairs and get my cell. Call the cops.” Matt nodded but when he tried to move, Vic stopped him. “Don’t mess with the non-emergency number. Call Kendra.”

  Matt nodded again. “What about you?”

  A muscle twitched in Vic’s clenched jaw. “Those kids picked the wrong Jag to trash.”

  * * * *

  Officer Kendra Jones was one of the few people they trusted with the secret of Vic’s powers. Vic’s constant presence at various crime scenes over the years had raised her suspicions, but even she’d been surprised by the source of his superhuman abilities. She’d been his biggest ally, fielding questions from the other officers and assisting him when he needed it, though she dogged him about joining the police force. She saw him as some sort of super man, a modern day comic book hero she wanted to recruit in the city’s fight against crime.

  But Vic wasn’t a hero—he was a man, nothing super about him. Most of his powers were crap, or fizzled long before they could be harnessed and used. He’d only be a liability, he tried telling her, but she refused to listen. However, he couldn’t deny her friendship came in handy—it was a lot easier calling her directly when he needed a hand at the scene of a crime than having to call dispatch and hoping the cop on duty would take him seriously.

  While Matt took the dog back up to their apartment, Vic jumped off the stoop and hit the sidewalk at a run. His mind stretched out like a blanket, covering the immediate vicinity, registering every person it flickered over in its search for the perpetrators. He ignored those asleep and concentrated on the trio of young men currently racing down a side street. One held Matt’s stereo close to his chest, cut wires slapping his arms as he ran. Another clutched the sleeve of CDs that had once hung from Matt’s sun visor. Another swung a metal baseball bat, indiscriminately hitting walls and trashcans and mailboxes as they passed.

  In his bare feet, Vic took off after them. With each step he took, he pushed against the ground, hard. Now would be a good time for a power like super speed to kick in, he thought, shoving the soles of his feet against the rough pavement and pumping his arms to hurry. I never get anything good when I need it. And Kendra thinks I should join the force? She’s delusional.

  At the end of the block, Vic jumped from the curb into the street, tiny stones and gravel biting into his skin as he ran. When he reached the next block, he jumped the final few feet, eager to be back on smooth concrete again…

  Only he didn’t land.

  He soared into the air above the sidewalk, pitched into the wind like a child’s ball. Jesus, he thought, mind racing as he watched the ground blur by beneath him. His heart lurched, his arms crossing before his face, his whole body anticipating a fall that never came.

  He was airborne. Flying. So this is what it’s like.

  At the last minute, he zigged left and narrowly avoided a midair collision with a street light. The move careened Vic into the side of a building; a cluster of bricks rained down from the impact, but Vic pushed against the building and zoomed higher. The night, which had felt warm a moment ago, now chilled his face and head with a wind that whooshed over him. Overshooting the building, Vic crested at the far end of the block high above the neighborhood. There he took a moment to tuck his billowing shirt into the front of his jeans and scan the area.

  Movement in a shadowy alley caught his attention. Got you.

  As he hung suspended in the air, he’d floated down a little, as if the weight of his body were too heavy to stay up for long. Now he found his toes brushing over the rooftop; pushing against it, Vic launched himself into the air again. This time he had a destination in sight, and he angled for the alleyway and the three guys there whose laughter pierced the night.

  Like a bird of prey Vic swooped down among them, his landing anything but graceful. The force of his impact shuddered the earth and rattled windows along the street. It knocked the boys off their feet—this close Vic saw they were barely men, nothing but punk teenagers getting into trouble. “Holy shit!” one of them cried, scrambling to his feet, Matt’s stereo cradled against his chest. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “This isn’t yours.” Vic grabbed the kid’s collar and hauled him up. He kicked out wildly as Vic held him off the ground, but Vic kept a sure grip on his shirt and he didn’t get away. Dragging him along, Vic closed in on his friends.

  One kid cowered against the wall. At his feet lay Matt’s CDs, broken and crushed where they’d been stepped on and destroyed. “Where’d you come from, man?” he asked as Vic stormed by. “You just fell out of the sky!”

  Vic didn’t respond. He snagged the kid’s shirt, which twisted when the kid didn’t move, so he grabbed hold of the kid’s arm instead. Two down, one to go.

  The third teen faced Vic, confronting him. The baseball bat swung dangerously in front of him. Dull anger crept into Vic when he noticed the dark sunglasses the kid wore cocked up on top of his head. Those were Matt’s. “Come on, man,” he taunted, backing up with each step Vic took. “I ain’t scared of you. Come on.”

  But apparently he was. The closer Vic came, the more the kid backed up, until he exited the alley. Sensing an opportunity to run, he dropped the bat and took off. Vic raced after him, the ground falling away as he threw himself after the kid.

  The boys in his hands screamed as they took to the air. Now they no longer struggled to get free—they clutched Vic’s arms, terrified of falling. Vic shifted their weight to hold onto them, wrapping an arm around each boy’s waist as they flew and leaving his hands free to grasp at the back of the remaining kid’s shirt. “Timmy!” one screamed after their friend. “God, Timmy! Just stop! Just stop running already! He’s going to get you, too!”

  Vic flexed his fingers and plucked the last boy off the sidewalk. The kid’s legs continued to pump, but the moment his feet left the ground, he reached up to grasp at Vic’s wrists. “Don’t drop me, mister,” he pleaded, eyes wide and shiny with the stars above. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I swear. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just don’t drop me, please.”

  Without making any promises, Vic turned in mid-flight and headed home.

  * * * *

  Matt stood behind Officer Jones, who held open the passenger door of Matt’s car and shone a flashlight into the dark depths. “Stereo’s gone,” she confirmed, pushing off her cap to run a hand through her long blonde hair. She smoothed back her bangs and tugged the cap back into place. “They trashed it pretty good. Anything else you notice missing?”

  The visor above the passenger seat hung from one wobbly screw. “My CDs,” Matt told her as he peered into the car, careful not to disturb anything. “I had about twenty up there. Um…my Oakley’s, maybe. I might have taken them inside but I don’t think so…”

  When he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glass crunched beneath the sneakers he’d thrown on upstairs. The thought of cleaning up this mess, at this hour, exhausted him. Then there was the insurance company to call, and a glass shop, and a body shop, too, if he wanted those dents in the hood hammered out. Fuck. Where the hell was Vic, anyway? Matt felt lost and violated, vulnerable. More than anything else, he want
ed his lover’s silent strength near him, if only to shore him up. He wanted this mess fixed, and Vic’s arms around him, his lover’s gruff voice assuring him it would be all right.

  As if wished into being, Vic spoke up inside Matt’s mind. ::Are the cops there?::

  “Vic.” Matt turned, grinning, but his smile faded when he didn’t see his lover approach. Kendra threw a glance over her shoulder at him, then let her gaze roam the street for a moment until she realized Vic wasn’t there. She turned back to the crime scene.

  Silently, Matt asked his lover, ::Where are you? Did you catch the assholes who did this?:: He hated the helpless whine in his own voice. ::Jesus, Vic. My car!::

  ::I got them,:: Vic said. ::Is it just you and Kendra out there?::

  ::Yeah.:: Vindication rushed through Matt, so heady he had to place a hand on the side of the car to steady himself. ::Did they say why they did this? Did they say—::

  Vic interrupted him. ::It’s just you two?::

  ::Yes,:: Matt said. He glanced around to make sure but saw no one else on the street. The red and blue lights from Officer Jones’s patrol car pulsed silently, throwing odd shadows in the darkness, but there were no curious onlookers watching, no one standing about gaping—not at this hour. ::It’s just us. Why? Where are you?::

  With a whoosh!, something dropped from the sky to land heavily on the nearby sidewalk. Matt’s mouth dropped open into a perfect O of surprise when the dust cleared and Vic stood there, the concrete buckling beneath his feet, three terrified boys clinging to him as if afraid to let go. “Oh, my God,” Matt sighed. “Did you just fly?”

  Matt exchanged a look with Officer Jones, who gaped as Vic released his grip on the teens and shook them free. As one, they sank to the ground, terrified after their ordeal—eyes wide, faces dazed, legs too wobbly to support their weight. Officer Jones had no trouble cuffing them. As she secured their wrists together, Vic wrested Matt’s stereo from one boy’s arms and held it out like a peace offering. “Don’t know what good it is now,” he muttered, turning the cracked casing over in his hands.

  Matt reached for the stereo, too stunned to speak. Had Vic been—was he really… flying? Every part of Matt began to shake at the thought of how dangerous it’d been for his lover to just, just, just fly off after the criminals. What if they’d had guns? Or what if he ran into something? A building, or a street lamp, or hell, a fucking airplane?

  Picking up on those thoughts, Vic chuckled. “That’s a little extreme…”

  Matt tossed the stereo aside and took Vic into a fierce embrace, as if his meager strength alone could keep his lover on the ground. “Don’t do that!” he chastised. “God, Vic! You could’ve been hurt, or killed, or—”

  “I wasn’t.” Vic turned Matt’s face up to his, eyes searching Matt’s. “I’m right here.”

  It was hard to believe this man before him, so solid, so built, so sound, had defied gravity not moments before. A very tiny hint of jealousy sparked in Matt—flying. The ultimate super power. Who wouldn’t want that?

  He hated himself for even thinking it, and strangled the envy before it could take root and sour. “It’s too dangerous,” he said with a pout. “It’s just a car stereo, Vic. It’s not worth losing you over.”

  “You didn’t…” Vic sighed. It was an old argument between them—Vic couldn’t help but use the powers, and Matt constantly harped on the danger they put him in. Holding Matt close, Vic murmured into his hair, “Matty, you keep me safe. These powers come from you, from your love. You know that.”

  True. It was late, almost dawn, and Matt felt too tired to argue. He held Vic tight, unwilling to let go. Flying, his mind whispered. He wondered what it felt like to soar among the clouds, weightless, free. To feel the wind rush through his hair, to see the stars shine up close, to watch the city sleeping far below him. That jealous bud began to blossom in his chest again. If the powers came from him, why couldn’t he enjoy them?

  He shook that thought away and burrowed closer to Vic. His lover’s chest felt so firm beneath Matt’s cheek, so warm. The clean, faint scent of soap lingered, mingling with Vic’s own musky aroma, making Matt feel safe. The ability to fly would lessen overnight—the transient powers flared brightest after making love, but faded until they eventually disappeared entirely. By morning, Vic might be able to hover a bit, if he tried. By tomorrow afternoon, the power would be gone.

  A gentle hand smoothed down Matt’s errant curls. He looked up at his lover and saw himself reflected in Vic’s eyes, everything he thought and hoped and dreamed mirrored back at him in those baby blues. Theirs was such an intimate connection, Vic didn’t have to delve into Matt’s mind to know his deepest thoughts, even those he hid from the rest of the world. All his secrets, his whole being, everything about him lay bare between them—the anger that hid his fear over Vic’s powers, the jealousy that wanted him to be the hero, the anxiety over putting his lover and half his soul at risk every time they made love.

  Affection warmed Vic’s eyes, softening them. He touched Matt’s nose with his and puckered his lips to kiss Matt’s mouth. In the quiet of their minds, he murmured, ::Hold on.::

  ::Why?::

  Suddenly Matt felt the firmness of the earth fall away beneath his feet. His arms tightened around Vic, terror rising in him, but Vic held him in a sure grip. “I’ve got you, Matty.”

  “Vic,” Matt gasped. He glanced down and saw they levitated a few feet above the ground. Nearby Officer Jones led the handcuffed teens into the back seat of her patrol car, but when she glanced at the two men, she did a double take. Matt clawed at Vic’s shirt. “We don’t have to do this. It isn’t safe.”

  “In a few hours, the power will be gone,” Vic explained. “We’ll lose this chance. Trust me?”

  They floated higher, rising up into the night. Despite the lack of ground beneath his feet, Matt had never felt safer, or more loved. Kissing Vic, he assured his lover, ::Always.::

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  * * * *

  ABOUT J.M. SNYDER

  A multi-published author of gay erotic/romantic fiction, J.M. Snyder began writing boyband slash before turning to self-publishing. She has worked with several different e-publishers, including Amber Allure Press, Aspen Mountain Press, eXcessica Publishing, and Torquere Press, and has short stories published in anthologies by Alyson Books, Aspen Mountain Press, Cleis Press, eXcessica Publishing, Lethe Press, and Ravenous Romance. For more information, including excerpts, free stories, and monthly contests, please visit jmsnyder.net.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small electronic press specializing in gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender fiction (including erotica, romance, and young adult), as well as popular and literary fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. While our preference is for GLBT stories, we accept stories containing any and all sexualities, as well as general fiction without a romantic subplot. Visit our site at jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!