Her Insatiable Dark Heroes

by Her Insatiable Dark Heroes (lit)

  Zion nodded. “Stew. Smells terrific. I’ll bring some down once I finish here. He should be finished by then.”

  Zavier gazed past him, reflective. “I hope our Harbinger-formed bond holds. If it’s ever broken for any reason, we’ll tear each other apart over her.”

  “Yeah, none of us would let her go now. Looks like another off-in-the-future project. Create a way to keep us bonded, no matter what.”

  “Good idea.” Zavier heaved a short breath, shadows in his eyes. “I have a gut-fierce feeling we need to eliminate Mowzolinn and his influence as soon as possible.”

  “He has it in for Chrontropolis.” Pivoting, Zion headed for the Control room. Hungry for stew, even hungrier for Wendy, he wanted a fast check and correction. First, he had to know how his system had handled her flame.

  Standing before the screen, he toned in his guardian pulses, quickly evaluating the state of his networks. He applied minimal corrections, and then traveled along the path of Wendy’s flame, which had created a slight alteration in the energy stream. Seeing no damage, he set up an analysis of what had occurred.

  “Problem?” Zavier asked, over his shoulder.

  “No. Her flame has changed the stream a bit, that’s all.”

  “Hell, I was sweating it out like a desert donkey. I didn’t find anything. You know me and machines.”

  “Glitch.” Alarmed, Zion shut down every unnecessary part of the system to isolate the spiking pulse that shouldn’t exist. “It’s him, the bio machine. Get Wendy down here. Have her flame him. His intrusion can’t penetrate the energy stream she altered,” Zion explained.

  Hearing the wind-like sound that told him Zavier had spun to blur-quickness, he controlled the foreign pulse, minimizing the data it already transmitted. Moments later he heard Zavier’s return, and his sudden halt before the corridor, leading to the gray creature’s cell. Several minutes later, the pulse vanished. Like a maniac, he checked all the network streams, and placed a capture pod inside to collect data on exactly what had been transmitted.

  Feeling their arrival beside him, he slashed a glance over at them. Zavier held Wendy in his arms. “How did the flaming go?”

  “I blasted his strange hide. He fell like a filled laundry sack,” she answered with a ferocious satisfaction in her voice.

  “Wendy, I need you to try following the energy of the gray creature with your flame. A tiny amount of our data was stolen. I want to know the destination point.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Zion sat down and held up his arms for her. Zavier placed her on his lap. “Wendy, we’re going to do this differently than you did last time. Zavier, I’ve set up the auxiliary screen for the Mayor’s contact.”

  “I’m going to go get some of Zent’s stew, want some?” Zavier asked.

  “Starving,” Zion spoke over his shoulder. “Thanks, big brother. Did you eat, Wendy?”

  “Not enough,” Zavier answered for her. “Back in a flash or two.”

  “What do I need to do?” She repositioned herself so she faced fully forward, and Zion was tempted to groan with the pleasure of his rod.

  “I’m going to create a holo box on the screen, around the point of intrusion. Once I complete that, concentrate your flame inside the box and follow wherever it leads.”

  She nodded. Rapidly, Zion formed the holo containment on screen then added his own tracking pulse.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  Zion felt the heat rise in her body and warm her flesh like a sunburn as he re-checked his data. “Ready. Set. Go.”

  She launched her arm forward, her finger pointing at the holo square. Orange-yellow flame spurted in a thin line, entering the three dimensional space.

  “Just follow wherever the energy leads,” he encouraged. “If you can, tell me what you feel, see or sense.”

  She remained still for several moments, keeping her arm extended. “Mountains, a range in the distance. I don’t recognize them. Closer and closer. It looks like I’m going to smack into the side. Not much foliage. Solid rock. Cold. I feel the cold air in contrast to the heat of my fire. Entering a cave. A long dark tunnel. Light. I see a cavern ahead. It’s illumined brightly. Wowza!” She leaned forward.

  “What do you see, Wendy?”

  “Rows of machines. Rounded, slick exteriors. I don’t know what they are, but they’re lining the wall of this immense cavern. Vibration. Lots of vibration. A unique buzz. I don’t sense anyone around.”

  “Can your flame touch one of the machines?”

  She moved as if she reached out to touch. The next second she jerked back. “They’re sentient. They’ll know if my flame touches them.”

  “What are they doing, Wendy? Can you tell?”

  “Investigating. They’re investigating all over the world, searching for weak points...weak points....weak points...to start turmoil. Weather turmoil!”

  “Wendy, get out,” Zavier commanded sternly. “Get your flame out. I know where you are. Leave now.”

  Evidently obeying, she drew her flame back. Zion watched the signature on his screen withdraw back to the box, and then vanish. She slumped back. He contained the data and displayed it on the screen.

  “Rumors,” he uttered. “Only rumors until now. Yet there it is. The center of their weather war technology.” Zion studied the data sets. “They were trying to steal all the information we’ve gathered about weather phenomena, what’s normal and the abnormalities in this region. Probably looking for a weak point to attack next and also looking for what we know.”

  “Can you tell what they did get?”

  Retrieving the pod, Zion opened it in a protected area of the screen. “Mostly bits of old information, except for the statistics on unusual wind activity.”

  “Would that be more detailed than what they could gather?” Zavier asked, stark concern in his voice.

  “Within the city of Chrontropolis, yes,” Zion answered. His gut tumbled with foreboding.

  “Snow,” she stated. “I told Zent snow earlier.”

  “Ice and a blizzard would paralyze Chrontropolis,” Zavier added.

  “Leave us completely vulnerable to a major attack. None of the citizens are prepared. They’ve never had to deal with snow or ice.” Zion furrowed his brow, feeling the darkness of the potential situation roar through him.

  Wendy leaned back, and Zion could feel her pondering. “If we assume wind activity was a priority, can you monitor for what they would be looking for, before they actually manipulate our weather?”

  “I’ll make that program a data priority. Then create markers for the tiniest manipulation.”

  “Eat first,” Zavier reminded in his older-brother voice. He set a tray beside them, steaming bowls of stew with fresh-baked rolls and drinks. “We have some time to think this through and make our counter moves.”

  “We should talk with Zotorro, get his intuition.” Enjoying how she perched more comfortably on his lap, Zion handed Wendy a bowl, then retrieved his. “Hey, do you remember when little brother read the depraved mind of Spooky Spider, after Zent throttled him into unconsciousness?”

  Zavier loosed a brief chuckle. “Yeah, we all kept dodging his shooting webs and got sticky-slimed anyway.”

  “Until we slammed into him enough times and finally knocked him over.” Zion swallowed a huge bite of stew, one eye on Wendy to make certain she ate. “What if Zotorro could read the gray bio machine’s programming before he repairs?”

  “Good idea.” Hearing the contact tone, Zavier nodded toward the other screen. “After I talk with the Mayor, emergency notwithstanding, I’ll find out what Zotorro believes he can do.”

  “I’ll flame the gray bastard again if he repairs,” Wendy volunteered, too eagerly.

  “That’s my SlashFlame Kitten.” Zion raised his bowl, and grinned.

  “It seems I’m good for more than your sexual preferences.” She sliced her gaze at him, her meaning obvious.

  At her words, Zion watched the jaws of a trap clamp down
tight in his mind’s eye, and felt paralyzed inside. What did he tell her now? How did he handle her? Not only did he need to maintain his mastery of her, but she needed to know how much he cared about her. She needed to know how much he loved her.

  “Yes, you are.”

  She didn’t offer a response, except to pause, and then reach for a roll. Taking his time, he polished off the stew, watching her savor the roll as if it might be her last bite of food.

  “More stew?” he asked, wishing he could make her happy and fix her as simply as he fixed his machines.

  She shook her head, but reached for another roll. Setting his bowl down, Zion picked one up, then bit into the savory goodness. Zent always put what he called surprise herbs in them.

  “I need to do a test run of the Twilight soon. I’ve made some improvements. Want to go for a ride when I do?”

  For an instant her face swung to his, her eyes jewel-lustrous with excitement. Just as quickly, she shut down. “The Twilight? Is that your battle speedster?”

  “That’s her. Fast and fierce as an avenging spirit.”

  “The color of twilight, right?” she softly asked.

  “Right. I have a particle coating on her. She melts into the grayness of our world whenever I activate it with a frequency wave.”

  She grinned a bit. “So the stories are true. You do disappear. I thought it was just because of the Twilight’s racing speed.”

  “I might need help testing out the Whirlwind, too,” he tempted, keeping his tone understated. He longed to stroke her thigh, indulge in a lazy exploration of her seductive curves. He bit into a roll instead.

  “Your battle motorcycle?”

  “One of them, yes. Whirlwind is designed for street battles. You could ride in the gunner position.”

  Her entire face brightened. “I could shoot with my flame or with your weapons.”

  Hope flickered inside him, fragile, but it was there. “We could practice. Work as a team.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” she murmured. She looked down at her lap, dispirited.

  “What am I doing, Wendy?” he asked softly, his heart beating like a jackhammer.

  “You’re enticing me with what you know I like. Yet you’re not going to stop...doing that.”

  Zion stepped into her fiery trap. “I am enticing you. For the reason you think. And because I do want us to be a team.” Reaching for her as if he reached out for a beautiful dream, Zion slowly twirled a strand of her hair around his forefinger. “I want you riding beside me in Twilight. I want you riding behind me on Whirlwind.”

  Looking up again, she drew in a tremulous breath. “I used to think of you as the Dark Wizard of the Machine.”

  “The Dark Wizard of the Machine,” he repeated, basking in the description and reveling in the fact that she’d said the words. About him. And thought them about him. Especially back in the halcyon time of their teenage days.

  “Mmmm. You always looked like my romantic vision of a wizard whenever you worked on your cycle, your auto speedster. Of course, when you rode or drove, even more so with your hair like a wild flying mane in the wind.”

  He heard the memories in her voice, the misty fierceness of her feelings as a girl becoming a woman.

  “Wendy.” He skimmed his hand down her back, and then caressed her waist.

  Shaking her hair briskly, she also shook her body, not to dislodge his hand, yet probably to shake away the thought of what he’d done to her. He’d enjoyed the fucking hell out of taking her butt. Zion decided all he had to do was figure out a way to pleasure her so mindlessly she would welcome his cock plugging her butt hole. After he figured out how to protect them all, and battle-force Mowzolinn into the jaws of the hell from where he’d sprung, an elite demon using his super-advanced tech.

  “Still hungry?” he asked. He picked up the last roll, holding it out to her.

  “Not unless you have something sweet. Or chocolate.”

  “Honey pops,” he tempted. Bending forward, he opened a tiny drawer, taking out his prized bag of candy, a recent find when they’d gone through an emptied warehouse.

  “Omygawd!”

  The instant he opened the bag for her, she plucked a dark cherry out and dropped it in her mouth. Letting her head fall back, she sucked slowly, savoring as the liquid oozed from the candy shell. Tossing an orange tart in his mouth, he relished it, but relished her more. She shook her head when he offered her another one.

  “Save them for later.”

  After replacing the bag, he brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Wendy,” he purred close to her ear. “The whole bag is yours if you want it.”

  She giggled, surprising him. “I remember how you and Zotorro would tussle over the last one, rolling around the yard, punching each other.”

  “Until mother blasted us with the garden hose a few times.”

  “Best to leave the bag here. I’ll just devour it in one sitting.”

  Clasping her waist, he cuddled her gently against him. “Back to my tech wizardry.”

  “What if you could use that gray bio machine as a conduit back to Mowzolinn, or whoever is in contact with it?”

  Zion squeezed her tight, a rush of excitement zinging through him. “I’ll set up some protocols, depending on whether Zotorro can mind-connect. We’ll go from there.”

  “See, that’s what you get when you feed me well,” she bantered, her voice muffled against his shirt. “My brain works again.”

  “I may have to take up cooking.”

  “Cook on your systems, Dark Wizard.” Zavier spoke from behind them. “I’m going to go talk with Zotorro, then meet with CocoaAngel. Looks like her team discovered another place to find food and supplies.”

  “Try not to drown, big brother,” Zion tossed back.

  “You’re responsible for our Wendy right now.”

  “No one’s—” she began, squirming upwards.

  “Yes, they are.” Zavier’s tone brooked no challenge. A split second later he blurred from them.

  Reluctantly, she eased her posture, remaining on his lap. Zion stopped himself from lecturing her. She knew whatever he would tell her. “Besides, kitten, I need you here. Since it was your flame in my system that helped save us.”

  She wriggled, facing forward at the same time he repositioned her. “Maybe I should shoot some of my flame into Twilight. She might race at a blistering pace.”

  “A blistering pace. Sure, I get it.” He smiled, amused. “Twilight could devour your fire and race faster. However, first we’ll try a machine I don’t mind losing.”

  “No faith in my flame, is that it?”

  “All the faith in our chaos of a world, kitten,” he teased. Surrounding her with his arms, he started in on all the projects suddenly lined up before him.

  “I should make myself such a bad distraction you’ll want to get rid of me.”

  “Backfire,” he murmured next to her ear. He tenderly nipped the rim of her little ear. “Don’t distract the Dark Wizard too much, or he’ll use his very own wand of fiercest strength.”

  “Fiercest strength,” she mock-derided. Naughtily she wiggled back and forth on his rod.

  “The wand is gathering its lightning force.”

  “It is. I can definitely feel the white heat.”

  “If we weren’t facing Mowzolinn, his weather war machines and his evil thugs, I’d white-heat your sweet kwim hole.”

  Straightening up to a serious posture, she asked, “How can I help?”

  “Snuggle up, my kitten, and let me work my tech magic. I’ll explain along the way.”

  “I’ll just watch. I don’t want to interfere with your concentration.”

  “Like you used to watch me when I tinkered on the engines during the summer. Sometimes.”

  “You were always so intense about it. Plus, you were shirtless.”

  “My ultimate strategy to win you. Even though I didn’t know it at the time.” Zion tried playfully teasing her.

  “No more,”
she scolded. “I already confessed my teenage attraction.”

  “You did, Wendy kitten.” Wanting to understand her better, and because he simply wanted to be with her afterwards, Zion focused on prioritizing his data info for weather patterns, especially wind currents.

  There were what he called ‘break points’ in the atmosphere where wind streams converged. Whenever the place of convergence changed dramatically, it brought about drastic weather conditions, usually storms.

  If Mowzolinn’s technicians could clash the force of a swiftly moving wind stream with a blasting arc of frigid cold and pour the energy into storm-producing clouds, then charge it with bolts of blue-red electricity, they could theoretically accomplish a blizzard. The key was driving a cold wave close enough to Chrontropolis.

  With easy precision, Zion set up the parameters that would alert him to those conditions as they formed, then fine-tuned the markers. Wendy had leaned back in his embrace, watching intently. God’s own breath, she felt like a treasure. His woman-perfect treasure.

  Performing a test run of the current weather patterns, he sat back and gathered her against him. The collected data created a weather map for Chrontropolis and included a hundred-mile radius, with the planet-wide map in one corner.

  “Wowza,” she softly exclaimed. “What does the bright yellow signify?”

  “Atmospheric density of ash. The amount of sunlight reflected away from the planet.”

  “Our whole weather has been changed. With not much sunlight.”

  “An average of ten degrees less.”

  “Are there any signs of repair?”

  “No,” he answered a moment later.

  “There’s too much manipulation still going on.”

  “If we could shut down those machines I saw, would that help significantly?”

  “Help, yes. Significantly, I don’t know. There could be caves full of those machines all over the world.”

  “There could be.” Her forlorn little voice tugged at his heart.

  “Wendy, someone powerful is on our side. Whatever it is, and from wherever the Harbinger arrived from, someone is helping us.”

  “True.” She sighed down to her precious soul.

  “Parameters are set for snow.”

  “Snow?” Zotorro spoke behind them.