by Angel Lawson
“What was that?” she asks, running over rooftops. The gym is three blocks away but her mask clicks on and reveals the others are on the run too.
“That was all me, baby.”
“You caused that explosion? How?”
“I built a drone.”
She stops and rolls her eyes at Draco. “Is this your way of never leaving your bunker?”
“You got it.” He clicks out, still laughing, and they drop down the fire escape onto the building next to hers. At the bottom they find Owen and Quinn. Owen’s face is bruised.
She reaches for him and he grunts.
“What happened?”
“Got jumped by a group in the Swamp. Some kind of neighborhood watch.”
“What? Were you doing anything?”
“Nope. Just looking around. Keeping an eye out.”
“You were right,” Draco says. “We’ve got no friends out here.”
They’ve got the gear, they have the tech, they have the powers to keep themselves and others alive. Unfortunately, no one wants their help.
Chapter Twelve
Owen
Early morning light peeks in from his bedroom window and there’s nothing he wants more than to stay in bed. For a week.
His body aches from three days of training and he can barely lift his arms. After the fiasco of going out the other night, he’s glad Astrid finally agreed to keep off the suits and stay at home. The city is too dangerous for them right now. The shit with Demetria and Blaze imploded, literally, and they need to keep a low profile.
He’d hoped this would let him off the hook for the recruitment program but no, Astrid doubled down. She wants a man on the inside of Jensen’s unit and unfortunately for him, he’s that man.
A footstep creaks on the floor outside his door and he looks over just in time to see Astrid slip into his room. She closes the door with a quiet click and walks over.
“Hey,” he says with a scratchy morning voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I promised you a massage before everything went to hell, but I’ve got time now.”
She’s standing there in her standard pajamas; tiny shorts and a ridiculously see-through tank. He and Quinn are both convinced she’s got no fucking clue the affect she has on them in that get-up, but he’s not going to be the one to tell her. She likes her clothing tight and he likes her regardless.
“Hell yeah, I’ll take a massage.”
She pushes him down on his stomach and pulls off the blanket. He’s shirtless and shivers when she touches his back with her fingers. They’re cool compared to the warmth of his skin. She climbs on the bed, straddling her legs over his hips, resting her weight on his ass. His cock grows hard underneath him, pressing into the mattress.
Her touch is light at first, stroking down his arms and back. Then she kneads harder, pushing deep into his aching, sore muscles.
“You’re very good at this,” he says, knowing this kind of intimacy is hard for her, she spent her life avoiding contact. He tries to keep it light.
“Atticus had a massage therapist that worked with the trainers for a long time. Her name was Patricia and she taught me some moves.” Her thumb digs into the muscle just below his neck. Owen winces, both hating and loving the pain. “You’re very tight in this area.”
“Yeah,” he replies, exhaling into his pillow. That’s not the only place getting tight.
“You have pretty skin.” Her fingers linger near his shoulder and the tattoo inked in his flesh. “You never told me about this.”
He turns his head to the side so he can catch a glimpse of her face. Her long braid hangs over her shoulder. “I got it after my aunt died.”
Her fingertips stroke across the lines. “An angel.”
“She promised she’d always watch over me.”
Her lips replace her fingers, warm and wet against his shoulder. She proceeds down his back, kneading and kissing the sore muscles away. Her nails scrape near the edge of his shorts and he grunts back the discomfort of his throbbing cock. He shifts, lifting on his elbows, looking over his shoulder so he can see her better.
“As…”
“Yeah?” she replies innocently.
He holds her blue-green eyes. “You know I’m not a patient man.”
It’s a lie, though. They still haven’t had sex. They’ve kissed and she sucked him off. He fingered her on the couch, dry humping her ass while she brought Quinn to a shattering orgasm. They’d flirted and touched but they’d held back from this one thing. Why? Time. Opportunity? Obligations?
None of those seem to be a deterrent right now and although he’s willing to wait for her, he’s still a man that knows what he wants. He wants, no needs, to claim this woman with his body, mind, and soul.
With two hands she lowers his shorts, easing them over the hard steel jammed into the mattress. She moves a hand to his back, making him stay. “You wanted a massage, Owen. Remember? All the whining? The pain?”
“There are other ways to relieve pain.”
“I think you mean stress.”
“Well, you’re causing me stress, babe.”
She slides her body back over his legs and her hands move to his ass. She starts massaging again and he clenches his jaw when she moves close to the crack, pushing and pulling the skin.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“What?” Damn. Are those her teeth? He’s throbbing hard now, close to humping the bedsheets. Her fingers dip between his legs, touching the soft, hidden area.
Owen presses his forehead into the pillow, hissing at the sensation. No, patience isn’t in his wheelhouse, this is nothing but torture. He closes his eyes and thinks of her skin, her lips, her mouth. He thinks of her pussy and how wet it must be under her tiny, cotton shorts.
He hears the rustle of fabric behind him and with a grimace he turns back to catch a glimpse of the evil woman putting him through such torturous pain. His reaction to seeing her is a low growl, coming deep in his chest. She’s stripped naked, posed angelically at the end of the bed. He waits a beat, pushing against his inner beast, to take her in. Absorbing the way her hair hangs over her shoulder, trailing down to her magnificent breasts. From her nipples to her belly button to the patch of fair hair covering her most alluring prize. The look she gives him is naughty, like she knows she’s crossed a line and doesn’t look the least bit sorry.
“Is this your way of telling me something?” he asks, moving to face her. His cock hits against his thigh.
He’s not prepared for her reply.
“I want you.”
Well, prepared isn’t the right word because he lunges for her and drags her across the bed. She squeals with delight and he stifles it with a kiss. He reaches for her tits, her pussy, and every inch of body in between. His voice catches when she touches his cock, remembering the way her mouth felt around it. When she’s settled on his lap she doesn’t waste time, lifting up and lowering herself down on him. He groans with instant relief, like he’s finally come home, and the faint smile and pink blush to her cheeks tells him she feels the same.
But none of it compares with the way she looks, the way she feels, when she begins rocking over him, moving her body in a way that meets his so perfectly. She rides him slow, gaining speed when she feels it, and he thumbs her nipples until her breathing comes in ragged jags. Sex with Astrid isn’t a moment—it’s an experience, full-bodied and emotionally crippling. She gives it all, all, and when she crests over the wave of her orgasm, she takes Owen along for the ride.
*
The punch comes from below, nailing him under the chin and rattling his teeth. He stumbles backwards but holds himself upright. Astrid laughs at him through her mouth guard and protects her face with her boxing gloves.
Their eyes connect. Aquamarine against green and he’s jolted back to the sight of her riding his cock hours ago. It boils down to the base—the connection he feels to her now, and when she swings another punch he blocks it and lands one
of his own.
“Damn,” one of the recruits says; number six, he thinks. “Go get her, Christian!”
The whole class is watching, plus a couple others working out in the gym. Quinn’s hulking frame watches from the observation platform above.
She steps back, absorbing the hit, and a different kind of smile plays on her lips. She feels it too and bends her elbows, ready to take the fight to the next level.
Yesterday she would have wiped the floor with him—today they’re almost even. She lashes back with a roundhouse kick. He dodges and gets in an elbow jab, then sees an opening and catches her from behind. Her arms are locked, her chest heaving from exhaustion. He smells the sweat on her neck and shoves his knee into the back of hers. A witty remark dances on his tongue when she hooks her ankle around his and leverages his weight to one side. They crash to the floor and Owen is completely taken off guard and finds himself face down under the weight of her body.
“Almost had her!” number six cries, fist hammering the nearest pole.
Astrid’s hair hangs over his own sweaty neck and her breath is hot against his ear. “Good job,” she says, pushing off his back and standing. He climbs to his knees and notices the new respect in the faces of his classmates. He really must have been close.
Once they’re dismissed and he’s cleaned up, Owen heads to the observation deck, wiping the sweat off his face and neck with a towel. Quinn offers his fist and they bump them together.
“It’s different now, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Owen asks, but he suspects he knows.
“The bond with Astrid. You’re connected now, I don’t know if it’s her echo or what. But it’s like being in synch.”
“An intuition.”
“Right,” Quin says. “It’s not like with other women. Whatever those doctors did to us, they probably didn’t expect this.”
“No, I doubt it. They did everything they could to keep our powers separate from one another.”
Quinn nods and they both look down on the gym floor. Astrid talks to Luby, who is cleaning up the weights left on the floor.
“How do you think they got it so wrong?” he asks, resting his arms on the railing. “That we work better together than apart?”
“I think the doctors had one plan for us and ultimately it wasn’t evil. But if we fell into the hands of someone else, the military, then there had to be some kind of backup measure. Something to make us less dangerous.” He glances down at Astrid and she looks up at them, raising an eyebrow in question. “I also think they underestimated her power.”
“How?” Owen asks.
“If I had to guess, her empathy is what strips down the barriers between us. When we’re…you know, with her…she unlocks the bond.”
Making love to Astrid certainly changed their dynamic. He felt it when she orgasmed, today in the fight. Quinn may be right. That means the three of them are stronger than anyone ever anticipated. It brings another question to light.
“Do you think she knows?”
He nods. “To a degree.”
“And the others, Draco? Casper? Where do they fit into this?”
“However she wants them to.” His eyes dart to the gym entrance and he grimaces. Owen turns to see what he’s reacting to and spots the man striding in the front door.
“Fuck.”
“You said it. Come on,” Quinn replies, already at the stairwell.
Trouble seems to find them even when they’re not looking. He follows Quinn down the stairs and hopes everyone keeps their cool.
Chapter Thirteen
Astrid
“Sorry, some of my customers are jerks,” she says, walking up to Luby. He’s cleaning up the weights left out. Some are massive, which makes it hard to clean up. Luby’s nineteen, skinny, and spends too many nights huffing chemicals while tagging the bridges and underpasses of the city. Astrid helps him with a fifty-pound weight and slides it back into the holder.
“Saw you whip up on that guy over there,” he says. “You’re pretty strong.”
She flexes her bicep. “You want a trainer? I can set you up with Mick after work. No charge.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Eh, I’ve got obligations.”
His grandmother. Right.
“Well, let me know if you change your mind.”
“Thanks,” he says, lifting a barbell and moving to its spot on the shelf. “And thanks for the job.”
“You had a good recommendation.”
Luby doesn’t know Astrid is Echo. The mask’s properties keep her disguised. “So you know the girl in the suit. Echo, they call her.”
“I do.”
He nods, hair flopping in his eyes. “She’s cool.”
She can’t fight the smile. “Yeah, I think so too. She said you needed some help—could use a job. I’m always happy to support people in the community.”
He looks down at his paint-stained hands. “There’s some crazy stuff going on out there right now. Sometimes I tip her off when I hear things, but I don’t know. I’m getting a weird vibe lately.”
“Like what?”
“That task force the Mayor has out there. I’m not sure they’re really on the level. They’re getting awfully chummy with some of the guys in the Swamp.”
“Bad guys?” He shrugs and moves to stack the workout mats. “Sometimes the police and other community leaders try to make connections, you know, get a feel for the area. It’s not always a bad thing.”
“Yeah maybe.” He doesn’t sound convinced and adds. “If you see your friend, tell her to watch out. I think something bad is coming.”
“Bad like the parade?”
“I don’t know. Just…bad.”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll let her know.”
She turns to leave and he grabs her by the arm. “Tell her to be careful and to double check any police reports. The criminals aren’t the only thing to be worried about in the Swamp right now.”
She nods her thanks. “Gotcha. Thanks, Luby.”
He glances over his shoulder and his energy changes. Quickly he turns back to his work, fear rolling off his body in waves. She turns to see what spooked him and it’s not hard to find the culprit.
Rowe.
He strides in the front door dressed in his black military-grade task force uniform. Two others wait outside. All eyes turn to watch him and he walks through the gym like a god. He’s strapped with weapons and carries a roll of papers in his hand. Astrid senses rather than sees Owen and Quinn enter near the office. She crosses the floor and meets him before he makes it too far.
“Rowe,” she says, trying to keep her personal feelings aside. “What do I owe the pleasure?”
“Thought you may want to see one of your old recruits on the job.” His grin is smug and he knows it’s for Quinn as much as it is for her. “Guess sleeping with the instructor isn’t the way to the top.”
She shoots Quinn a look to stand down but Owen is already on it, holding their teammate by the arm.
“I see you’re with the task force.”
“Leader of it.” He points to a badge on his chest.
“Impressive. I told Jensen you’d be good in the right position.”
“Yeah, it’s my job to get this city back in order after the fiasco during the parade. We’ve got night patrols, undercover agents, community liaisons, but mostly we’re tasked with shutting down the vigilante behavior.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and keeps her face impassive. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
He shrugs. “Anyway, I’m doing a stop by of all the businesses on the Harbor Line. You may have heard about the charity soccer game the Mayor is hosting to rebuild the part of the Harbor Line destroyed by the parade, I’ve got some promotional material for you.”
“He thinks another public event is a good idea?” Owen asks, stepping forward for the poster. Astrid glances at it and sees the date is a few weeks away. Location, the Crescent City Stadium.
“I
t’s not my job to second-guess the boss, but this one is for ticket holders only, and with your friend in the loony-bin it should run more smoothly.” Astrid bristles at the description of Demetria, both as her friend and the slander.
“What about these ’vigilantes’ running around the city. Aren’t you afraid they’ll show up?”
“I dare them to.” He laughs. “So how are things? Local businesses seem to be targets for some of the discontent with the progress being made in this area. Have you had any problems?”
“No. We get along well with the community.”
“That doesn’t seem to help. I know you’ve got security here and you think you can handle yourself, but tensions are rising out there.” He pulls a card from his pocket. “Don’t be afraid to call me if something comes up.”
She takes it. “Sure.”
He leans over and adds in a low voice, “Call me day or night. I’m here for any and all your needs.” His eyes flick over her shoulder, obviously at Quinn. “You know, once you get tired of fucking the help.”
Before he can straighten, Astrid shifts into motion. She stomps on his foot and grabs the gun out of his holster. Kneeing him in the face, she takes both elbows and slams down on his back and then kicks his feet out from under him. She aims the weapon at his head. Rowe’s jaw clenches in rage.
“I could arrest you,” he says. A bruise starts to swell by his jaw.
“Do it,” she says, cocking the trigger. “And see who wins that fight too.”
They stare at one another until he concedes, holding his hands up in surrender. She releases the trigger and holds the gun in the air. Quinn is by her side in an instant and takes it from her.
“No one comes into my house and disrespects me. Get him the fuck out of here,” she says, glaring down at him. She knew he was a psychopath and told Jensen to be careful. Too bad he didn’t listen. “And don’t step foot in my building again, got it?”
He doesn’t get the chance to respond before he’s lifted off the ground by Owen and Quinn. She turns, aware that the whole gym is watching her. Mick and the guys training on the Parkour run. She doesn’t care, other than connecting with Luby, who stares at her like he’s seen a ghost.