by Radclyffe
The storm was against her. Tatum and his crew were experts at containing spills, and Eloise was adept at managing the company’s official PR statements, but Tatum was blunt and oftentimes belligerent if challenged by those he considered to be opponents. He couldn’t be trusted to deal with the press on-site. If—more likely when—word got out, she needed to be on scene to defuse the situation. Otherwise they’d have environmentalists camping out onshore and a media storm the company paid her to prevent. She didn’t like thinking about Gem as one of those environmentalists who might be crying for blood, and it hadn’t happened yet. Right at that moment, there was nothing she could do to change what would happen. And she wanted to see the light in Gem’s eyes turned on her just a little while longer. “In the comics world, like it or not, testosterone rules. An androgynous name works better on the cover, so I went with a pen name.”
“Austin would probably fly in terms of being genderless,” Gem said musingly, “but it’s a little too sophisticated, and I see you as someone a little…hmm…flashier in your artist persona.”
“Flashier, huh?” Austin cocked her head. “Not sexier?”
Gem ignored the trickle of electricity down her spine and pretended she didn’t notice Austin flirting. But she noticed all right. Austin veered between serious and outrageously playful, and the constant back and forth was so unpredictable as to be enticing. Like intermittent reinforcement—and Lord, now she was analyzing her own behavioral responses as if she were a test subject. When had she forgotten how to simply enjoy herself? “So, are you mostly doing paranormal?”
“Pretty much any kind of sci-fi fantasy. I prefer action-adventure type stories. Easier to script. More exciting to draw.”
“Well, I know you’re not doing the Y: The Last Man series, which I love. I’ve seen Vaughan’s picture and I know that’s not you.”
“You weren’t kidding.” Austin nodded appreciatively. “You do know your comics.”
“I mostly read the graphic adaptations of authors I’m really fond of. I like to see the characters given form.” She laughed. “The women always look different than I imagined—but we’ve come a long way from the Wonder Woman years, not that I don’t still love those too.”
“You mean with the big breasts and tiny waists? I dunno about that.”
“Well, I’ll give you the big breasts. But at least now the female heroes have muscles and are a lot more into physical confrontation. I love a woman with a sword.”
Austin swallowed her coffee wrong and choked. “Really?”
Heat climbed into Gem’s face. What was she doing? She hadn’t been this open and unguarded since Christie, and that seemed like another lifetime. That was another lifetime ago. She’d sworn she’d keep a careful distance from people, and she hadn’t suffered for it. Why she was suddenly dropping all her barriers with a near stranger, especially a somewhat mysterious, if terribly charming stranger, was inexplicable. “I was being literal.”
Too bad. Austin almost spoke aloud but was glad she hadn’t. Gem looked uncomfortable, and maybe she should take that as a warning herself. Gem wasn’t the kind of woman she’d pick up for an hour or two in a hotel room on a long layover somewhere. She didn’t do it all that often, but when the constant travel, unrelenting pressure of defusing one crisis after another, and the endless self-questioning got to be too much, her choice was to drink until she slept or have sex until she didn’t think. When she’d found herself drinking a little too much four or five years before, she decided sex was a better antidote. She didn’t turn to it frequently, but when she did, she enjoyed the game, took pleasure in the flirtation and the seduction and ultimately in the final, if fleeting connection. She’d already gone beyond the point of flirtation with Gem. She liked her. Anything beyond that would only be complicating what was likely to become a very difficult situation. “Literally, then…you might have seen the Sisters of Revenge series. It’s about a cadre of—”
“Women warriors dedicated to protecting women on a planet where the captives of territorial wars are sold into slavery. I know that one. Did you—?”
“That would be mine.”
“You’re kidding. You’re Ace Grand?” Gem rocked back in her seat and laughed aloud, her face transformed by pleasure. “That’s amazing. You’re awesome!”
Austin just stared, stunned by a whirlwind of sensation, dizzy as if she’d stepped into a rainbow of color and heat. She’d never met a woman capable of such spontaneous delight. A tightly coiled tendril of hope, long lost and deeply hidden, stretched tentatively toward Gem, testing the possibility of connection. Everything else—the job, the constant pressure to excel, to succeed, to be better than—disappeared. The unrelenting need to measure up and not be left behind faded.
How would she ever hold on to this feeling? What could she possibly do to make Gem look at her this way again? A tight ball of regret filled her chest. Before very long she’d likely destroy any chance she had of being the benefactor of Gem’s favor. Knowing she would lose yet again, she determined to hold on to every glimmer of pleasure as long as she could. “That’s me. But you don’t have to call me Ace.”
“Ace. Yep. It suits.” Gem leaned forward, gripping the coffee cup the waitress had placed down a minute before. “I love your stuff. The characters are incredibly vivid, and the dialogue really jumps. The adaptation you did of Young’s Demon Darkness series was fabulous. Really true to the novels, and the physical depiction of Andromira was…Sorry, I know I’m being a fangirl, but—well, I’m a fan.”
“Hey,” Austin said, trying not to preen, “don’t apologize. I’m really glad you like comics. I don’t meet many people I can actually have a conversation with who do.”
“Do you do signings?”
“Not very often. My schedule is pretty jammed.” Austin couldn’t very well tell her that most of the time she had to squeeze her graphic work in between trips to one part of the world or another to neutralize a potential global disaster. “I don’t get much exposure to the audience.”
“There, you see? That’s why you don’t know there are lots of people like me who really enjoy comics.”
“You’re probably right. I’m very happy that you proved me wrong.”
“Well, I doubt proving you wrong could become a habit.” Gem smiled. “You strike me as being someone who knows what you’re about.”
“Thanks, I think.” Austin saw no point in telling her she was wrong. That she’d never entirely been able to shake her childhood, when she’d known she’d failed to meet her parents’ expectations, and she still carried the scars, not all of them physical, as reminders.
“So…” Gem paused as the waitress deposited their food, left a check, and hurried off. “Do I get a sneak preview of Ciri? I can’t wait to see how you see her.”
Austin grabbed the pen the waitress had left on the table by the check and folded over a corner of the paper placemat advertising local garages, contractors, and pet sitters. She quickly sketched Ciri holding her sword overhead with both hands, her long braid flying behind her, bolts of lightning shooting from the blade, and a banshee war cry enclosed in the balloon above her. She tore the paper in half and passed it to Gem. “There you go.”
She held her breath while Gem turned it back and forth, as if she could see beneath the flat page to the rest of the action. When she glanced up at Austin, her eyes glowed. “If I show up at your hotel room and demand to see more, will you think I’m a crazy stalker?”
Austin forced a grin, knowing that wouldn’t be the reason Gem hunted her down. “I think I’ll probably be safe.”
“Mmm.” Gem folded the paper carefully and tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll remind you you said that.”
Chapter Four
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive for a while?” Gem asked as she buckled into her seat and Austin got behind the wheel. She’d almost hated leaving the warm cocoon of the diner, where she’d felt a little removed from her ordinary life and a little bit out of c
ontrol. She wasn’t quite herself, and the unexpected freedom was exhilarating. Austin continued to fascinate, by turns charming and amusing and then, suddenly, quiet and reflective—as if she were struggling with some larger question and finding the answers elusive. Gem loved puzzles, although her interest didn’t usually extend to people. She’d learned a painful lesson when it came to people—she was terrible at reading them and vowed never to be in a position where her flawed ability to discern another’s true intentions would matter. If she didn’t care, she couldn’t be hurt. Austin had already made her forget her sacred promises—from the beginning, Austin had been a mystery Gem wanted to unwrap.
“I’m good for now. But thanks.” Austin eased out onto the highway. Traffic was light, but the visibility was almost zero. The mist had turned to a steady, light rain and fog blanked the sky, making the day nearly as dark as night. They’d been on the road half the day and were still only a third of the way to their destination. “If we keep making the kind of time we have all day, I’ll take you up on it.”
“We could surrender,” Gem said. “Pull into a Motel 6–type place and ride this out. The rain may not let up, but eventually the fog will lift. We’d probably end up arriving at about the same time, and the driving would be easier. Probably safer too.”
“We might have to eventually.” Austin didn’t have any intention of quitting, but she couldn’t really come up with a plausible reason why she needed to reach Rock Hill Island ASAP. “But the fog has to break eventually, and we might get lucky sooner rather than later. You okay with being cooped up in here awhile longer?”
“I’m fine. I’ve never minded coops.” Gem smiled. “And the company is excellent.”
“Yes, it is.” Austin glanced over and smiled. “Is there someone you need to update on your situation?”
“Someone…oh, at the sanctuary, you mean?” Gem shook her head. “No, not really. Our study group is funded through a national program in association with the sanctuary’s foundation. I’m actually in charge of the research program, and I planned to arrive a few days early. I wanted a little time alone just to enjoy the place before the work got started.”
“To wake up to nothing but the sounds of the wind and birds,” Austin murmured.
Gem flushed, glad Austin’s attention was on the road. “My inner geek is showing, isn’t it.”
Austin looked her way and shook her head slightly. Her expression was solemn, unexpectedly serious. “Not at all.”
“Well,” Gem said, her throat unusually tight, “the other investigators have been here before. If anyone does show up before me, they’ll settle in fine on their own. How about you?”
“Sorry?” Austin said.
“Is this a solitary vacation, or do you have friends in the area?”
“Oh.” Austin preferred to say as little as possible about her plans—the less said, the less she had to embellish. And the less guilty she’d feel about not explaining her real purpose for the trip. “No. Just me.”
“You are serious about holing up, then.”
“Once I get into the drafting stages of a project,” Austin said, happy to retreat to safer ground where she could answer without subterfuge, “I tend to hibernate until it’s finished.”
“How about I give you my number when we get there,” Gem said, “and if you decide a change of scenery will improve your concentration, or you just need a break, you can call me. I’ll show you around the sanctuary. It’s quite beautiful this time of year.”
“I…thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Gem said quietly, a little taken aback at her offer. She could tell herself she was just being friendly, just returning Austin’s generosity in giving her a ride, and that would be true—partially. But it was more than that, if she really wanted to look at it. She liked Austin’s company. She wanted to see her again, although that didn’t seem likely given what Austin had just said. Reaching out to someone—someone who interested her in a personal way—just wasn’t something she did. More often than not, she was the one gently saying no to proposals from women to get together. She wasn’t unfriendly, and she enjoyed the company of women, but so very often, those invitations came with the unmistakable undercurrent of interest in something she had no interest in. She didn’t want a date. Not that she wanted a date with Austin, and Austin hadn’t given her any indication she was at all interested in anything like that.
She just enjoyed her company—her easy confidence, her gentle teasing, even her occasional silences that hinted at some hidden hurt. Those glimpses of internal struggle might intrigue her most of all. And if she was honest, she’d have to admit that she wanted to know those secrets. She didn’t want to say good-bye at the end of the trip and never see her again.
That desire for more was astonishing and a warning she ought to heed. She had no time and no place in her life for anything remotely resembling a personal relationship. Oh, she had a relationship with Kim, but they’d been comfortably seeing each other for almost two years and neither one of them had taken it to a truly serious level. As far as she knew, Kim didn’t see anyone else, and neither did she, but they’d never actually discussed being exclusive. She mentally examined the possibility that Kim might be seeing someone else, something she’d never given any thought to before, and didn’t feel the slightest bit of jealousy or threat. She suspected Kim would feel the same about her. They were fond of each other, compatible in their interests, both socially and professionally. Sex had never been a huge part of their relationship and was less and less so as time passed. They were comfortable—or at least she was. Safe and comfortable and unengaged. She knew for certain that the most intimate times she’d spent with Kim never stirred the bone-deep excitement of sharing a simple meal with Austin. She’d never believed in the concept of chemistry, but being around Austin was changing her mind. Her skin literally tingled when Austin’s mellow tones brushed over her. And that must spell danger. Retreat was surely the wisest course.
“I know you’re busy,” Gem said, “so, please, don’t feel obligated—”
“It’s not that. If I can escape,” Austin said quietly, “I’d love a tour. But I can’t make any promises.”
“Fair enough,” Gem said, surprised by the somberness in Austin’s voice. She almost sounded as if she had no control over what was going to happen. Maybe that was just her way of describing being caught up in her work, something Gem definitely understood, but there was a level of regret in Austin’s tone that tugged at her. Impulsively, she reached across the seat and squeezed Austin’s forearm. “I mean it, no pressure. I understand about work, about getting lost in it. About needing to finish a project.”
Without warning, Austin caught her hand and held it. Her fingers were as strong as Gem imagined, warm and smooth. Hers automatically threaded between Austin’s, and the fit was perfect. Her breath caught in her throat. No, she’d never felt anything quite like this, not even before she’d put up the barriers to guard against getting too close.
“I don’t feel pressured,” Austin said. “Not the way you think. Not by you. It’s…a little hard to explain.”
“Then don’t. Call if you can. I’d…” Gem grabbed a breath, took a chance. “I’d like that.”
A muscle jumped along the edge of Austin’s jaw, her profile in the reflected light of the dash going still and hard, as if flesh had been replaced by marble: cold and beautiful and untouchable. “So would I.”
“Well then—all we really need to do is—”
A loud bang reverberated through the vehicle.
“Hold on!” Austin grabbed the wheel as the big vehicle swerved and skidded. “Damn it.”
The SUV lurched onto the shoulder and Gem’s seat belt tightened across her chest, pinning her against her seat. Her pulse jumped and she peered out the windows into the surrounding gloom, desperately trying to see. “What is it?”
“A flat, I think,” Austin said through gritted teeth. “Something must have been in the road. I didn’t see it
.” The vehicle bumped along the shoulder and finally came to a stop. “You okay?”
“Yes, fine.” Gem released her seat belt and massaged her shoulder where the strap had bitten in. She bet she’d have a bruise.
Austin punched the hazard button and lights flashed on the dash. “I hope we’ve got tools.”
Gem opened the large glove compartment and sorted through what was there. “Manual. Rental papers. No flashlight.”
“There has to be a spare and a jack,” Austin said. “I’ll go take a look.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“You might as well stay in here. There’s no point both of us getting drenched.”
“Visibility is terrible,” Gem said. “I don’t want you outside working without some way to warn other vehicles. At least I can use the light on my phone to signal that we’re out there.”
“Let me assess the damage first. Then we’ll go from there.”
“Promise you won’t try to fix it by yourself.”
Austin sighed. “Has anyone ever mentioned you tend to be pretty stubborn?”
Gem smiled. “That would not be a news flash. Now, promise?”
“Promise. Two minutes.”
“I’m counting.”
Austin slipped outside, leaving her alone in the silence with nothing but the metronomic flicker of the hazard lights and her own confounding thoughts. The fog sat against the windows, pressing in like a malevolent force. She shook away the foreboding. She’d never been afraid of the dark, never been afraid of the unknown. The only thing she truly feared was falling victim to her own desires, and being wrong again.