by Angel Lawson
“Owen—no.”
“No? Are you telling me what to do? Are you saying I’m not in control?” he mocks, taking a step deeper. The water splashes his calves.
“Don’t get me wet! I just showered! And washed my hair!”
“Bossy, bossy.”
He takes two more steps, a wave crests high, hitting the bottom of her shorts.
“I’m fully clothed! This isn’t funny.”
He holds her over the water and holds her eye. Warm water spreads across her jeans and the way he’s holding her, straddled around his hips, ignites stirrings where their bodies meet.
“Apologize.”
“For what?” she asks.
“Thinking that I’m spoiled.”
She rolls her eyes, knowing he knows he’s a brat. God, he’s such a brat.
“I’m sorry for calling you spoiled.”
“And?”
“And saying you’re a brat.”
“And?”
“You’re not entitled.” She searches her mind for another slight. “Or out of control. Nope. Not at all.”
He narrows his eyes. “You don’t particularly sound sincere.”
She looks down at the crystal-clear water now up to his hips. “You’ve dragged me out to the ocean, are holding me hostage fully dressed, and have forced me to apologize. I’d say you’re in control of the situation, Owen.”
“Yeah, I’d say so, too.”
In the fading daylight, he lowers them both in the water, her legs still wrapped around his waist. Water surrounds her, instantly heightening her senses.
“What—” she starts but his mouth crashes into hers, taking command.
Her loose tank rises, floating at the surface of the water. Owen’s hands reach for her breasts, feeling a million times more sensitive. His hands fumble with her shorts, easing them over her hips. He tosses them toward shore and she tugs away his clothing, feeling the pebbling of his nipples, wet against the cool air. He shudders and his cock grazes against her thigh, her core, sending an identical shiver up her spine.
He leads and she follows, giving this moment for him to assert his control. They bob with the water; her breasts floating, grazing, nipples peaked.
“You feel so good,” she tells him, tilting her head so she’s floating on her back. He explores the hidden place between the legs. Her body burns.
“What do you want?” he asks, lifting her up. His voice is raw with desire.
“You.”
“To do what?” His fingers tweak her breasts and she groans with delight.
“Do whatever you want to me. I told you, you’re in control.”
Her concession pleases him; if only that it makes him the winner of their silly game. Her eyes widen, caught in his impenetrable gaze when he stands suddenly. Her body tenses, assaulted by the contrast of the heat of her skin, the water dripping from her body and the cool breeze. He carries her out of the water, exposing both their bodies. The moon rises to the east, casting a faint glow. She has no idea where he’s taking her. But she’s definitely surprised when he lowers her to a soft blanket and stands over her naked and proud.
“You set this up?”
“I told you,” he said, dropping to his knees. He parts her legs and moves between them. “I’m completely, totally, one-hundred-percent in control.”
Owen lowers his mouth, kissing the peaks of her breasts, down her belly, across her hips and between her thighs. He works his magic, like he’s done so many times before, bringing her to the brink.
She’s a quivering mess, dying for relief, but knowing Owen, he’s nowhere near done. There were truths to her accusations of him being spoiled and entitled. Impulsive too. She loved that about him, but in moments like these she knew it was the opposite.
He’s diligent.
Patient.
Focused.
And fucking amazing with his fingers and mouth.
He unwraps her like a gift, peeling away the layers, until he reaches the raw, frayed nerves that give her the most pleasure. And just when she thinks she can’t take a second longer, he enters her swiftly. Hard. And her eyes widen from the impact.
She holds on to his muscular shoulders, loving the sensations all around her. She may as well still be floating in the ocean with every inch of her body engaged, and she moans her approval as he grabs her hips, gaining speed and friction.
Owen grunts and she watches his jaw tighten and clench. His lips part, his tongue darts in and out and she’ll never, ever tire of seeing his face just before he comes.
“Come on, baby,” she whispers, knowing it alters the balance they’ve established tonight but that’s the truth about them. There’s no one in charge. No dominant personality. It’s just the two of them; naked, raw, and enjoying the hell out of each other’s bodies.
His eye catches hers and he smirks, flipping her over so that she’s on top. He loves it when she calls him that and he loves it when she’s on top, and their roles shift and now she rides him hard until he pulls up on his elbows, plants his mouth on hers and together they shatter into a million pieces.
18
Astrid
She showers for the second time that day, carefully drying her hair and picking a clean, dry outfit. She frowns at the abrasion left by the sand rash on the back of her upper thigh. Her lips are swollen and puffy from Owen’s hard kisses.
She can’t help but wonder if Dr. Monroe or the other technicians watched them make love on the beach. She’s not sure she cares. She’s read their echoes. She knows their secrets.
“Hey,” Quinn says from her bedroom door. “Warrick just came up. They need us in the testing facility.”
“But it’s after hours,” she whines.
“It wasn’t a request,” he replies. “Definitely a demand.”
She grabs the band for her hair off the counter and lifts her hair. Quinn stops her. “You should wear it down.”
“Yeah?”
“It looks good like that.”
She tucks the band in her pocket. She never really thinks about how she looks—more about what’s effective. The best for work and fighting. Quinn makes very few requests from her, other than eating and drinking right. If he likes her hair down, she can appease him a little bit.
“Where’s Draco and Owen?”
“Already there. I told them I’d come find you.”
“Any idea what this is about?” she asks over her shoulder as they descend the stairs.
“No, but I have a bad feeling.”
“Why’s that?” Her question is met with a grim expression.
“Because Monroe gave us two weeks and something tells me we’re running out of time.”
They step outside and gain access to the testing facility. The main room is empty—not a surprise since it’s after nine. A solitary guard instructs them to head upstairs to Dr. Monroe’s office.
Draco waits for them at the door, his knuckles brushing against Astrid’s as she enters. She gets a blast of tension—apprehension—and glances at him. His face gives away nothing.
Owen’s still oozing post-coital bliss and his body heats when she approaches him. He offers one of the seats across from Monroe’s desk. The doctor sits on the other side. Her normally calm exterior seems a bit shaken. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail and strain tugs at her eyes.
“Thank you for coming. I apologize for interrupting your downtime, but we’ve been alerted to movement on the outside.” She points to the screen on the wall and presses a button on her remote. It’s already queued up to a video.
“This went out to every major news outlet at 8 p.m. tonight.” Monroe clicks play.
Rowe’s smug face fills the screen.
“This is a message for citizens of Crescent City, particularly those that reside in the area known as The Swamp. After months of increasing tensions and deteriorating relationships, the city government would like to announce that the full and complete takeover of The Swamp will commence in the next 48 hour
s. The tax payers and responsible property owners of Crescent City are no longer interested in supporting the downtrodden and poor. You’re being asked to leave. Immediately. Where? We don’t care. When? Now. Why? Because when the city clock tower reaches zero, the Swamp will be decimated. And anyone left behind will go with it.”
The camera pulls back and there’s no doubt where he is. Rowe’s standing before the Elite gym. Her home.
“If you’re wondering if your good friends and local vigilantes will come save you, the answer is no. They’re gone. Vanished. Probably aware that they can’t beat the firepower of the impending wave headed your way. There is no hope. No second chances or heroes coming to save the day. If you want to survive, vacate The Swamp immediately, otherwise prepare for the worst.”
The camera holds on him for one moment longer, capturing his disturbing, evil smirk before blinking out. What follows is a quick recap from a dozen news sources; much of it the Mayor of Crescent City declaring a state of emergency. It seems Rowe and Scheid have taken over.
No one says a word, but Astrid feels the emotions of the room, ranging from bitter hatred to pure rage. That doesn’t even include the homicidal urges surging under her skin.
Her hands clench the arms of the seat and she looks around the room. Dr. Monroe finally says, “Obviously this is—”
“Just to get us to come out. They have no idea where we are,” Astrid says, completing her thought.
“No. They’ve never had access to us or this facility.”
“Do you think he’ll do it? Destroy The Swamp?” she asks, already knowing the answer.
“Scheid will do anything to get his hands on you.”
“Then we have no choice,” Draco says. “We go. Now.”
Quinn and Owen nod. Quinn says, “We have friends there. People we’ve come to know. They depend on us.”
Astrid takes a deep breath. “I agree. We go, but not until I do something first.”
“What?”
She stands, pushing her chair back, staring at Monroe. “Take me to Casper.”
“No,” Monroe replies. “It’s too soon. He’s not ready.”
Astrid holds the woman’s eye. “That’s not a decision you get to make.”
“I’m his doctor.”
All three men stand, backing Astrid up. She knows this is the right thing to do. “Trust me. This isn’t something we can do without him.”
19
Astrid
Monroe, followed by an armed guard, leads the way from the testing facility, past the house and down a rocky path. Astrid can’t figure out why there is so much security. Are the techs afraid of them? Of an outside attack? It’s obvious that if her team decided to revolt they’d probably win, which is why the doctor is taking Astrid to Casper despite her reservations.
They arrive at a small cottage directly off the beach. Thick clouds roll in from the south, blocking the moon, and the gentle breeze from earlier has shifted into a strong wind. She thinks how just hours ago she and Owen were in the calm ocean. Now the waves are rougher. A hammock rocks between two trees.
“This is where he’s staying?”
“Yes,” Dr. Monroe replies. Tendrils of her hair blow around her face. “A team of therapists have been coming daily to work with him. They help with everything from his speech impediment to basic social interactions.”
“You know, he didn’t need changing. He was already part of us—despite his differences.”
“I know and I agree,” she says, her tone genuine. “He’s the one that asked for help.”
That news surprises Astrid, at least a little. Casper had always been so forceful. So adamant. But maybe it was a cloak to hide his insecurities. He seemed to want his independence but was that a charade? Part of her hoped so, because it meant he wanted to be with them more than she suspected. She wanted him with them too.
“I’ll take it from here,” she says to Monroe. The doctor eyes her skeptically.
“He may not like this. I promised him I wouldn’t bring you over.”
“If he has a problem, I’ll deal with it.”
Monroe looks at her watch. “You have a few hours. We’ll need to prep to go by dawn.
Astrid nods and climbs the steps to the wooden porch. The weathered planks creak under feet and she knocks on the door. A flapping sound catches her attention. Swim trunks and a towel hang pinned from a clothesline. Flip flops rest by the entry mat. There’s no light outside but soft lamplight glows in the window. Closing her eyes, she touches the door. She feels him on the other side—just out of reach. She knocks again and calls out over the increasing wind, “Casper?”
There’s movement and the uptick of his heartbeat. She waits another moment thinking maybe the doctor was right, maybe he didn’t want to see them—her—but slowly the door opens.
It’s only been a few weeks since she’s seen him, but from the way Casper looks, stands, and carries himself, it could have been much longer. The man before her isn’t skinny and pale. His skin glows from days in the sun. His muscles lithe from use. Casper stares at her in surprise but not anger—none of the hostility and fear she’d seen so many other times consumed him. She felt it. Saw it.
He’d changed.
“I didn’t know this storm was going to wash a sexy mermaid up on my doorstep.”
Okay, maybe he hadn’t changed that much.
She broke into a smile. “I thought sunlight would turn you into ashes.”
“I-I’m a goblin not a vampire,” he says, rolling his eyes. He still had his stammer but it was different. More controlled. His words flowed easier off his tongue.
Astrid takes a hesitant step forward, unsure how far she could push him. How much had he changed? Casper answers for her, crossing the threshold and engulfing her in his arms. He holds her tight with strong limbs and a fast-beating heart. Emotion overtakes her—she’s not sure if it’s her or him—but tears pool in her eyes and she nuzzles her face in his chest.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he says in her ear.
She rests her ear on his chest, listening to his hammering heart. “Do what?”
“Hug you. Touch you.”
She remembers what Draco told her, that Casper held her up on a pedestal, but now she realizes it’s something more. It’s the bond. The connection between them all, and not only had he been separated from them, he’d been lacking the emotional connection that kept them strong.
They needed each other more than anything else.
“There’s been a threat,” she tells him. “Back home.”
He pulls back and frowns. “By who?”
“Rowe. Scheid.”
“W-what do they want?” The concern in his eyes says he knows.
“Us.”
He rubs his chin. “So I guess the vacation is over?”
“Yep, and we only have a few hours to prepare. Then we’re headed back.” She watches him closely. “You’ll come with us?”
He nods.
“Good.” She makes her move, stepping past him and entering the small cottage. His eyes never leave her and she feels the intensity when she adds, “Then I think there’s something we need to do first.”
20
Draco
Once Astrid and Dr. Monroe leave, they head to the weaponry room to prep for Crescent City. The tools and tech developed on the island is far superior to what they’d had before. Their suits are lightweight and durable, literally bulletproof. Their equipment is easily manageable and perfectly suited to each of their abilities. Draco stands before the long row of accessories and begins filling a bag. Owen and Quinn do the same.
Something’s been nagging at him since they watched Rowe’s video. It wasn’t the basic rage he felt seeing his city threatened and under attack. It was the betrayal of their own, by this doctor, Sebastian Scheid. He’d fucked up their lives severely and without Astrid bringing them all together, Draco knows he easily could have found himself in the hands of this man.
W
ithout Astrid and frankly, without someone else.
He shoves a stun gun in the bag and says, “Do we have anything here that can take down Rex?”
Quinn casts him a wary look. “Rex is invincible.”
“Exactly.” He runs his hands through his hair. “How are we going to stop him.”
“We catch him. Lock him up.”
“Where?” Draco’s not convinced.
“Here,” a voice interrupts them. Dr. Monroe stands in the doorway. “We have a maximum-security prison on the island. Created for this moment.”
Quinn grunts, tossing his baton in his bag. “You knew it would come to this.”
“As soon as Scheid betrayed you, yes.”
Draco’s quiet. He can’t stop thinking about how this started for him. Finally, he says, “We’re going to need more than the five of us to stop Rowe. He’s got Blaze on his side and Rex. He’s got the entire Elite squad and god knows who else.”
Quinn nods. “What are you proposing?”
Draco glances over his shoulder, making sure they’re alone. “I’d like to bring in someone else.”
Owen stares at him blankly. “There is no one else.”
“That’s not true,” he replies.
Recognition dawns and Owen throws up his hands. “Fuck no.”
“What?” Quinn asks, clearly a few steps behind. “Who are you talking about?”
Owen’s cheeks flare red and his eyes shift dangerously. “We are absolutely not asking that fucking psycho for her help.”
“She’s strong,” Draco says. “Stronger than all of us and she’s better. I’ve seen her.”
“I knew it!” Owen roared, running across the room and grabbing Draco by shirt. “I knew your loyalties were with her all along!”
He easily pushes Owen back, trying his best not to hurt him. Owen turns and kicks the leg of the work table, denting it with his boot.
“My loyalties are with Astrid and this team. Don’t ever doubt that.”