Wylde (Xi Force Book 3)

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Wylde (Xi Force Book 3) Page 20

by S. C. Mitchell


  Kayla bounded over her and brought her phase pistols to bear on the man. She fired with both. “You’ve always been a coward, Port. Stand and fight for a change.”

  Dumph. He disappeared before the beams hit him.

  Dove pushed herself up off the floor, but a giant hand wrapped around her, lifting her into the air and trapping her arms against her body.

  “Little Dove. You’re all mine once again.” Leonov’s monstrous features contorted into a huge grin.

  ~ ~ ~

  Wylde dodged left as a sticky strand of webbing shot toward him. It splatted into a person behind him, pinning the man to the wall.

  “Sucks to be you.” Wylde had no mercy for anyone working for Red Guard, but this all began, and would ultimately end, with his father. He scooped up a computer monitor and lobbed it toward his father’s head. The monster batted it away with one of his legs.

  “Come on, Johnny, there’s still time. Join me and we can rule the world together as father and son.”

  “Go to hell.” Wylde bounded up, slashing at the bulbous body with the claws on the tips of his gloves.

  “Argh.” His father stepped back.

  Good, he could be hurt.

  Wylde continued to hack and slash. “Turn back into your human form and give yourself up. Don’t make me kill you.”

  A nervous tingle shot up his spine. Could he do it if he had to? His own father?

  No. He was a member of Xi Force. He stood on the side of justice. And he was not an animal.

  His father’s form shrunk. One hand up, he scuttled back with the other. Blood dripped from gashes in his side and back. A pitiful expression rippled into place on his face “No, no, please. I give up.”

  Wylde eyed the man suspiciously.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dove confronted the destructor, her enemy for a millennia.

  No, just Leonov, the son of a bitch who’d abducted and tried to rape her. She wasn’t the Creator. He wasn’t the Destructor. His powers were as limited as hers.

  Bashing and crushing were the only tools available to him. She had creativity, a far superior weapon.

  Within her sphere of influence, a multitude of molecules presented themselves for manipulation. She pulled in air around her, solidifying the edge and expanding the bubble around her like a balloon.

  “What the . . .?” Leonov’s grip loosened, and she dropped to the floor in front of him.

  Pulling every scrap of metal in the vicinity to her, she formed the strongest alloy she could with what she had, then built a dense chain shackle, bolting one end to the nearest wall, which she reinforced with the available stone and concrete. She molded the other end around his feet, all without him noticing.

  She stepped back, away from him.

  Loenov tried to move toward her, tripped, and fell on his face.

  He looked back. “What?”

  “Gee. Chained up? A prisoner against your will? How do you like it, asshole?”

  He growled and reached toward her, but she stayed just out of his reach.

  Still available to her, the cable she’d severed to bring down the force shield. She pulled the high-voltage wire from its conduit and touched it to his outstretched hand.

  Electricity arced across Leonov’s body. “Eyeeeee.” He quivered as the electricity passed through him. His body morphed back into its human form.

  She shrunk the shackles to fit. She’d be damned if she was going to let him get away this time. If he tried to grow back into the behemoth now, it would break his ankles.

  Puffing hard, he looked up at her, his eyes imploring. “Dove, please.”

  “Oh, if you insist.” She sent another jolt through him.

  She shouldn’t have, but it felt so damn good.

  Over the crackle of electricity, and Leonov’s cries for mercy, she heard the roar of a jet engine.

  Xi force had arrived.

  ~ ~ ~

  Wylde’s father sat on the floor in front of him with both hands up. Still, the man’s eyes shifted side to side. He was up to something.

  Dumph. Port appeared at his father’s side. “William, we need to—”

  Zap. The teleporter fell to the ground.

  Kayla stood over him. “You need to take a nap.”

  She dragged him away from Wylde’s father, tied his hands, and pulled off his facemask, reversing it to put the holes to the back of his head and cover the man’s eyes.

  Across the room, Dove had Leonov down for the count.

  In the confusion, Camille had managed to slip away, but Wylde had her essence. He’d sniff her out later.

  “I surrender,” his father said with a gasp.

  Wylde knew the man too well to ever trust his words. Still, the sudden change took him by surprise. A spider leg shot out quickly from the bastard’s arm. Long, pointed, sharp as a needle.

  It caught him in the stomach, piercing him and throwing him back. He hit hard enough to cause his head to whirl. The sharp, fibrous appendage drove into the wall, pinning him there.

  The man’s gaze shifted. From his other arm, another spider limb shot out toward Kayla. She saw it coming and quickly phased. The pointed end passed through her, and she simply walked out of it. Still, the action caused her to drop the phase pistols she’d been pointing at him. Her pistols phased with her when in their special holsters, but not when she had them in her hands.

  Wylde’s father pulled the limb back and aimed it toward Dove.

  She stood with her back to him, her attention fully on Leonov.

  “Dove.” His warning came too late.

  The limb shot out, hitting her upper back, and puncturing her suit as it drove her into a wall.

  “No.” The suit was bulletproof, but the appendage was needle sharp and driven with great force. The red patch forming around the limb gave grim evidence that the point had penetrated.

  Wylde used his claws to hack at the fibrous limb holding him to the wall. His head spun, he needed to stay conscious, needed to get to Dove.

  A host of the blue-uniformed thug cops burst into the room, guns firing. But right behind them came Z-Bot, Shade, El Brujo, and Paul Tompkins with a group of his rangers.

  Hack, hack. Black blood spurted from the spider limb that skewered him. He threw every bit of his remaining strength into clawing at the limb. “Damn you, Father. Damn you to hell.”

  His arms burning from the effort, he managed to cut completely through.

  Across the room, his father cried out. The bloody limb retracted, and Wylde pulled himself from the severed piece. Gut bleeding, he went to his knees.

  A severed human hand thudded to the floor beside him.

  Around him, the gunfire stopped. Thugs threw down their weapons and held up their hands. His father rolled on the ground screaming, holding the stump of his arm.

  Head spinning, Wylde crawled. He had to keep it together. He had to get to Dove.

  Crawl. Concentrate.

  His healing factor kicked in and he forced himself to stand. He staggered toward the limp body on the floor.

  Dove lay on her back, eyes closed, a gaping wound through her chest, through her heart.

  He went to his knees beside her, taking Dove’s hand. No breath. No heartbeat.

  Kayla, tears streaming down her face, looked up at him, sobbed, and shook her head.

  “Noooooo.” His cry became a howl of grief.

  Chapter 27

  Wylde sat in a daze, letting things happen around him.

  They’d removed Dove’s body, sending it back to Xi Force headquarters. Heather wanted to examine her before sending her off to the county morgue. Kayla had gone along.

  Lost. So completely lost.

  Shade stood over him, offering hi
m a hand up. “Come on, John. Let’s get you home.”

  He accepted the hand. Might as well. Nothing here for him anyway.

  He passed his father laying on a stretcher. A contraption whipped up by Heather kept him from changing to his spider form. A National Guard medic was checking the bandage on the stump of his arm.

  His complexion gray, the man was in obvious pain.

  Wylde found no pity in his heart.

  Their eyes met as Wylde passed.

  “You’re a fool, Johnny. You could have had it all. If you’d just come back, joined us, you could have had anything in the world you wanted.”

  Wylde stopped. A cold knot tightened in his stomach. “I had everything in the world I wanted, and you killed her.”

  Joel pointed at the medic. “Knock that bastard out with something. I don’t want him getting away.”

  “Promise me, you’ll lock him in the deepest, darkest hole you can find.” Rage rose to fill the empty void inside Wylde. “If I ever see him again, I’ll kill him.”

  A second medic walked toward the stretcher.

  As he passed him, Wylde picked up the man’s essence. Instantly, he struck out, punching the man in the face and throwing him to the floor.

  No, not him. Her.

  “Wylde, what the hell?” Joel grabbed his arm.

  As the medic fell, Camille morphed back into her own form.

  The knot in Wylde’s gut loosened a bit. “She’s the one who impersonated Commissioner Warren and Officer Halverson and probably countless others. Keep an eye on her.”

  “Oh.” Joel released his arm, then motioned for some of the county sheriff’s officers to take her into custody.

  Outside the clouds were breaking up. Sun shone brightly in a deep azure sky. Birds chirped as they glided through the air. Warmth, spring in the air, had the snow melting to slush at their feet.

  Casey Saddler, shotgun up on his shoulder, ushered a group of children from the building toward a milling crowd of adults. Cries and screams, and lots of hugging told Wylde these were probably parents and relatives.

  The aftermath of tragedy. People would pick up and move on. Those that died would fade from memory over time. Some of them anyway. Others were too deeply in people’s hearts to ever fade.

  And he didn’t want to forget Dove’s face, the twinkle in her eye, or her quirky laugh.

  Was this what Natasha felt after Tony died? Had his loss faded in the least for her over the time since?

  Wylde had missed Tony and the others, but he’d managed to move on, and they’d faded in his mind.

  Too soon. Too soon for such thoughts.

  ~ ~ ~

  Loud silence filled the jet’s cabin as the Xi-1 flew them back to the mountain headquarters. Xi Force, Pike’s Rangers, none of them said a word. Stoic, grim-faced, they sat with him. Yet, he felt their support. His . . . friends. He’d get through this, he knew.

  I might have known my book would be a tragedy. How could it have ended any other way?

  No, he wasn’t going back there. He was real. Dove was real. The love he felt for her was real. He refused to let some all-powerful bastard write her out of his story. He’d keep her in his heart for as long as he lived.

  His friend. His love.

  Mary Cullen met him as he disembarked the plane, Jimmy at her side, her eyes rimmed with moisture. “John, I’m so sorry.”

  She hugged him. He needed it. Maybe she needed it too.

  Jimmy pressed his head to Wylde’s thigh. She was a good person. I liked her.

  Wylde began to shake. Tears rolled from his eyes. Had he ever cried before?

  Surely as a child, he must have, but he couldn’t remember. Through all the pain and suffering he’d endured throughout his life, nothing had ever hurt like this.

  Releasing Mary, he slid to the floor and let the tears fall. Sitting on the hanger floor crying. Stupid. But he didn’t have energy for anything else.

  Mary sat down beside him and Jimmy laid down and put his head in Wylde’s lap.

  “This is my fault.” Mary sucked in a sob.

  He looked at her sideways. “You weren’t even there.”

  “But I brought her here.” She shook her head and ran her fingers through the fur on Jimmy’s back.

  “I wouldn’t have found her again if you hadn’t. It was a good coincidence.” Was it better to have loved and lost? The hollow ache in his heart made him wonder.

  “It wasn’t really a coincidence, you know.” She shrugged. “We worked on a lot of projects together before this Xi Force thing. I knew her pretty well, and I loved working with her. We just clicked on so many levels.”

  She paused, most likely lost in thought for a moment, then continued. “She talked about you often. She really missed you. Once I was sure it was you, I knew I had to engineer a reunion. The wolf pups just provided the perfect excuse.”

  Closing her eyes, she shook as more tears streamed down her cheeks. “If only . . .”

  Wylde shook his head as he took her hand. “Leonov was already working in her dad’s lab. He’d have taken her anyway. Who knows what would have happened? She might have died over in Russia without anyone knowing. You can’t blame yourself for this. My father killed her.”

  “John?” Kayla’s voice echoed in from the hallway, excitement filled her tone. “John.” She came dashing into the hanger bay. “There you are. Oh good, Mary, you’re here too.”

  She offered them both a hand up. “Come on. You’ve got to see this. I still can’t . . .”

  Her voice caught. She shook her head, but tears suddenly filled her eyes.

  Chapter 28

  The light hurt Dove’s eyes. She squinted. She forced words out of her dry, rasping throat. “Too bright.”

  Not as bright as that other light, but that one had offered a comforting glow. This light stood out as stark, and all too real.

  Heather drew the curtains across the window. “Better?”

  Dove lay on a bed, in the small hospital ward of the Xi Force headquarters. And God, everything hurt.

  A bank of medical monitoring equipment beeped and blinked red and green lights beside her. An IV drip connected to the back of her left hand.

  Heather, eyes rimmed with moisture, put a hand to her forehead. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  She’d been dead?

  Yes, she remembered now. Her last conscious thought was Dr. Wylde’s sharp talon bursting through her chest. She’d looked down, seen the damage, and known in that instant she was dying.

  So how did she get here?

  Heather injected something into the IV. “I’m giving you something for the pain. It should kick in soon. Try to relax.”

  A soft snore issued to her right. She turned her head on the pillow to see John, chin down against his chest, sleeping in a chair beside her bed.

  “John.” It was all she had any energy to say.

  Heather smiled down at her. “He’s been here the better part of the past thirty-eight hours, except for those times I booted him out to get some food or shower.”

  She chuckled. “Of course he’d be asleep when you finally wake up.”

  Her head spun. And hurt. She hoped that pain medication would kicking in soon.

  “What happened?” It came out sounding more like wa abbened. Ts, Hs and Ps were hard.

  Or were they ard?

  Even her smile hurt. Urt?

  Stop it. If she started laughing, it would kill her . . .again, she was sure.

  John opened one eye, then the other as a broad smile filled his handsome face. “Hi.”

  Heather’s concentration was on her data pad, but she glanced up. “Well, you were dead for a while. Then you weren’t.”

  John coc
ked his head. “Yeah, there’s an author somewhere with a huge plot hole to fill.”

  He winked as he took her hand, running his rough thumb over her knuckles. Warm, strong, and so wonderful, the connection brought her comfort.

  Heather rolled her eyes as she shifted her gaze back to her datapad. “I might have some of the answers right here. It seems like you two were having some unprotected sex.”

  “I . . . um . . . well . . .” The comical look on John’s face almost had her laughing out loud. His cheeks went a deep shade of red.

  “I was on birth control.” Speaking was getting easier. The drugs must have kicked in.

  Heather’s sly grin bespoke some secret knowledge. She tapped her data pad. “Tests show traces of Mutalon in your system. Enough to slowly rebuild your organs and heal the damage you took. And it appears you’ve developed some limited immunity to its poisonous effects.”

  “Like John?” That would be great. Super healing on top of her other powers.

  Heather shook her head. “Not exactly. It appears that a small amount of Mutalon in John’s seaman managed to cure you of the inability to become pregnant. Then, when you were killed, the tiny embryo, not being able to survive without its mother, kept right on fixing you. In short, you’re pregnant, and your son or daughter has inherited its father’s ability to heal.”

  Whoa. Pregnant?

  John squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . . I mean I guess I should have known . . .”

  She smiled. “Sorry? If you hadn’t knocked me up, I’d be dead.”

  His brow furled. “Oh. I hadn’t thought about it that way. Are you good with this?”

  Was she? Having John’s baby? She turned her powers inward, analyzing her body, and the tiny life she hosted. Such a wonderful creation. Their child.

  “Hell yes, I’m good with this. Better than good.”

  Heather snickered. “I have to warn you. As the first ever child of two superheroes, this will probably be the most monitored pregnancy in history.”

 

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