by Lina Jubilee
I spun on my heel, wincing as the pain shot up my leg. “You recognize the Nelians are the real threat, but you go around doing stupid things, fighting people who once saw you as a friend—”
“We were busting up an anti-Natch meeting,” he said, his lips thin. His eyes glazed over for a second and I recognized it as him probably focusing more on the people actually in front of him in whatever vehicle he was in on his way to the scene. “A meeting full of hateful Typicals.”
“And you thought, what, busting up the meeting with a flashy, dangerous display of Natch powers would make them embrace us all of a sudden?” Shaking my head, I leaned back against the wall. I shuddered as a woman screamed and darted past me. Every second I was wasting here was a second that put another person in danger. Not that I was sure what I could do on my own, but I could at least try. I could at least direct an evacuation.
“You sound like Jayden,” said Zander, his voice growing quiet once more.
Of course I did. I’d chosen to stay with him, hadn’t I?
Looking into his spectral dark eyes, I felt that pang of regret. I would have felt just as sick losing Jayden—losing Nash and Roulette and everyone else, too—if I’d chosen to walk out on them with Zander. Worse because I’d have lost more people I loved. But that didn’t change the fact that I missed him. My libido missed him. I missed the way he’d driven me wild.
Besides, it had been an easy choice, even if a painful one. I agreed with Jayden—violence was the last resort, not the answer.
Zander’s projection took a step forward and his hand went to my cheek. It felt like a butterfly kiss and my head rolled instinctively into it, wishing there was something more solid there, more real.
“I miss you,” said Zander, his voice cracking. “I miss Jayden, too. I wish you both could see—”
Shaking my head, I pulled away from his ephemeral touch. “I wish you could understand.”
“Darlin’, I tried his way. For years.”
I opened my mouth and shut it at the sound of another boom from behind us. This wasn’t the time for discussion. And it wouldn’t matter anyway. I started to turn away again—
And Zander’s ghostly hands gently turned my face back to his, his lips pressing against mine. My mind went numb at the feeling of the tease of his kiss, my eyelids closing and my brain flashing through images of us hooking up in Jayden’s office—but this kiss was a taunt.
Pulling back, I ran my tongue over my lips, aching for the feel of more. “You can’t get a boost from your projection kissing me,” I said, my voice raspy, my breath shallow.
“I know,” he said, running his ghost thumb over my cheek in a circle. “But it might be the closest taste I have of you as long as you’re stuck hiding in Jayden’s shadow.”
Grimacing, I clenched my hands into fists—half out of annoyance, half to stop myself from running those hands through his spidery ghostly hair—and turned. No more distractions.
“Aurora, please, wait for—”
But with another resounding crash, Zander disappeared. Whatever had happened, he was more focused on what was in front of his real body, his real self. The real self I would never touch again. Not without hurting Jayden, betraying my friends.
Just as well. I had work to do. I kept limping, each step getting easier as the soreness evolved to numbness. When I reached a café with a shattered storefront window pierced by a half-dead giant vine and smoke wafting out of it, I knew I was truly there. I was the only one here. And somehow, it was going to have to be up to me until the cavalry arrived.
I could do this. I had to do this. I had to prove I was more than a pit stop in a van to boost my teammates’ powers.
The ground shook beneath my feet and another giant, green vine popped up from beneath the asphalt, sending chunks of concrete tumbling down the trunk of the monstrous growth. So far, most Nelians we encountered had been shown to have this same, singular power—but what a massively dangerous power it was.
I stumbled back, leaning against the wall as the vine soared right in front of me and struck into the apartment building above. I threw my hands up over my head, cursing myself for leaving my helmet behind.
Someone must have been looking out for me, though, because the worst I experienced was a couple of fist-sized rocks bumping against me before I felt myself being tugged inside through the café’s broken storefront, small arms wrapping tightly around my waist.
The building rumbled above us as the giant vine retreated back to whatever Nelian elf had sprung it from their hands. Whoever it was pulled me to their chest, laying their head over mine and sheltering me from any extra dust and debris. It was only once the noise had relatively died down that I realized the softness beneath my cheek indicated a curvy, if lithe, woman.
The tension in her hands eased and I stepped back. “Thank—”
Before I could get out the second word, though, I got a good look.
It was a Nelian elf.
Chapter Four
“Who…?” I started to say.
“Run,” said the elf woman. “Get out of here.” She shoved at me then with such force, I wondered if she intended to hurt me. Despite the fact that she’d just saved me.
Wincing from the soreness in my leg as I regained my balance, I stared at her. She was beautiful—as were all these pointy-eared elves from this other world—and she had more distinctive curves than many of the other women I’d seen of her kind. Her pale peach complexion was probably even more flawless, her long, long hair a dark, rich shade of green. She studied me as I regarded her and her lips curled into a frown.
“Who are you?” she asked. “You don’t seem like a typical human.”
“I’m not a Typical,” I said. “I’m a Natch.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “One of those humans born with powers.”
“Yeah,” I said. Then I scrunched my eyebrows together. “Hey, I asked first—who are you and why did you save me?” I gestured behind us. “Especially considering your kind is currently shredding up part of my city?”
She took a step back. “We’re restoring it,” she said. “To its natural beauty.”
Yeah, these Nelians seemed to have something against concrete and bricks and mortar—Wade and even the news cycles had figured out that much. I shook my head. “People live here. And you’re an invader. It’s not up to you whether or not this building gets to exist.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s not up to your people to change what the planet creates and offers to suit your selfish needs.”
“So that’s what it’s all about, huh? Just lending Mother Nature a hand?”
She flinched as another vine whipped past the shattered storefront window across the block and down the street, and I had to grip on to the cashier counter to stay on my own two feet in the rush of wind as it passed. The vine seemed to have gotten kind of stuck partway, ceasing suddenly.
She grit her teeth. “If that means saving this planet, then yes.”
“Then why attack one city in small pockets?” I demanded to know. “Why not just stay and whip your little branches around all over the world?” They were notorious for staying no more than an hour at a time, sometimes leaving their huge vines sticking half in and half out of a building and just clearing out after the damage. They’d bizarrely never attacked anywhere outside of our little city. They hated metropolitan areas? There were so many bigger, more populated cities around the world. But nope, they stuck with ours.
She didn’t seem bothered by my seething rage. “You say you’re a… powered human?”
“A Natch,” I said, crossing my arms and ignoring the jolt of soreness from my hand.
“And you don’t…?” She gestured to herself and the area around where she was standing. “You don’t notice anything?”
My eyes practically rolled out of my head. “What? I notice your people tearing through uptown. I notice you strangely saving my life.” Biting my lip, I let the savagery of my tone drop somewhat. It was tru
e that so far no one had been killed in one of their attacks. Injured—definitely attempted murder—but miraculously, everyone had gotten out and survived when the Nelians had gone on their little rampages. Was it really this sole elf woman saving people one by one?
“Your powers,” she said, ignoring my rant. “You aren’t using your powers.”
Snorting, I wasn’t about to explain why that was. Instead, I changed track. “You aren’t using yours. Instead, you’re saving the people you’ve been sent to attack.”
Her lips curled into a frown. “Try using them. Try attacking me.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “No. I don’t just use powers on command—” I let out a scream as another giant vine went soaring past, this time seemingly generated from someone just outside the café, but it stopped. Cut short before it could barely begin.
In the quiet that sucked up the air as the vine began to flop to the asphalt, its originator presumably letting it go, a voice echoed down the street—a deep and intoxicating voice that made my heart skip a beat.
“Alanna! Alanna!”
An elf kicked open the café door, sending the already-wobbly thing nearly off its hinges. “I told you to stay behind.” Like the elf woman, there was a touch of foreignness to the way he spoke, though it was no Earthly accent. My eyes were instantly drawn to him, and my breath hitched as I took note of how tall and lithe he was. His muscles were well-defined, which was startlingly obvious even through the tight earth-tone leather-like material that clung to his form. From their medieval-ish attire to their pointed ears, these otherworldly beings were truly high fantasy elves brought to life. During one of their first visits, they’d called themselves elves from Nelia. Then they’d smashed up several buildings with their giant plants without giving humanity more than a second to register what they’d said. “Who brought you here?!” he snapped, oblivious to my apparent drooling.
“Brother,” said the elf woman who’d rescued me—Alanna, I supposed. “My king.” She put a fist over her breast and kneeled to the ground, ignoring the dust and debris coating the floor.
King? Shit.
Anger flushed his smooth, tawny face—darker than his sister’s—as he strode in with his fists clenched, heading directly our way. He halted suddenly, puzzlement painting over the rage. “What’s this human doing with you?”
“She’s a powered one,” said Alanna from her submissive position on the floor. “A… Natch.” She curled her lips exaggeratedly around the latter word, like it left a distaste in her mouth.
The elf king stared at me and extended an outstretched hand slightly in my direction, his brown eyes narrowed and trained on me like a dog sizing up its opponent.
Yeah, I’m not going to attack you since my only “weapons” are more like energy drinks.
Biting my lip, I tried to seem intimidating even so. But it was hard when face-to-face with his beauty, which didn’t seem marred by the twitch of a snarl on his face, but rather enhanced by it.
My libido growled inside me, rushing from my groin all the way out to my fingertips, rumbling louder and louder inside me with every second of our standoff.
Damn, me, you need to get your mind out of the gutter at the most inopportune times.
“Oh!” cried out Alanna, her hand going to her lips as her gaze fluttered between the elf man and me. “Is that even possible…?”
“Quiet,” growled the elf king to her. He was breathing hard as he stared at me, his chest visibly moving up and down. Lowering his hand to his side, he cocked his head. “You’re not attacking.”
Clearing my throat, I looked from him to his apparent sister. “I’m waiting for backup.” True enough.
“Alarik,” said Alanna, rising to her feet. “We should go.” She looked at me. “I know you and she… But we need to go.”
“We need not fear these beings, even the powered ones. They’re too small in number.” He laughed, and damn, if that laugh wasn’t the kind that would have been more at home on a beach at twilight, his arms wrapped around a woman, her toes curled into the sand. I slapped my face with my road-burned hand and winced, taking in a sharp breath of air. Both elves stared at me then, Alarik’s expression purely curious.
He took a step toward me, his hand extended again, and I jumped, my fists raised up like we were about to engage in some boxing, my knees bent and limber and ready to attack. Assuming I could get so much as a single blow in before he shot me through the wall with a vine straight out of Jack and the Beanstalk. All that work attacking punching bags on a semi-daily basis wasn’t going to save me now. Fuck.
Doing serious damage to my readiness for a fight, his hand instead went to my cheek as a slight grin emerged on his lips. His fingertips felt odd—soft and a touch rubbery at the same time, like a yoga mat that smelled of musk and flowers and everything guaranteed to make my panties flood with moisture. Damn it if that weren’t the case—but the suit had been designed to absorb moisture. Perspiration, naturally. Not… what was making my knees shake.
“You’re quite beautiful for one of your people,” said this seductive elven king. His fingers danced lightly up the side of my face and he took a piece of my sweat-stained dark hair and brushed it off my forehead. Fuck me, I was letting him do this. I craved his touch. And I didn’t just mean on my face.
“Alarik—” started Alanna, but then the street outside roared, a mighty gust of wind I first attributed to the movement of another vine, but as my head turned—the loss of Alarik’s touch on my skin with the movement painfully evident—I saw it was a funnel of wind. Torynt—had to be. Though it strangely kind of sputtered out halfway. But in any case, that meant Zander and his Renegades at least had arrived, their goals always aligning with ours when it came to driving out these otherworldly invaders.
The elf king’s jaw clenched, his hand still hesitatingly hovering beside me. He nodded toward Alanna. “You need to get out of here. Now. Ask Normak to… He’s outside. He’ll knock you unconscious.”
Wait, what?
“Leave you? With her? You can’t honestly mean to act on what’s between you right now?” she asked. “Xerxes thinks I can be useful when these Natches show up—”
“Now!” barked Alarik. He gestured toward the open door and gaping window and Alanna stood, looking from me to her brother and back again, then nodded and made her way outside. Alarik practically bounced on his heels, his fists clenched at his sides as he watched her go. What did she mean, what’s between you? I’d never met the asshole.
He turned to me. “Your backup has arrived. And yet you hesitate?”
I stared at him, a single eyebrow raised. “You haven’t attacked me.”
He opened his mouth—his lips sensuously curved into an ‘o’—and then he clamped his mouth shut for a bit before uttering, “I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
My gaze darted from him to the street. The tip of a huge vine curled around the corner, but an ice ball went soaring past and froze it in place. Tension left my shoulders. Darien, a.k.a. Ice-Blast. My friends had arrived as well.
He sized me up and down. “I’m not sure I’d want to attack you, either. A defenseless girl, all alone.”
“I’m hardly a girl,” I said, grinding my teeth. A flash of Jayden always dismissing me as some twenty-four-year-old “kid” tore through my mind.
“I’ll say,” said the king, his eyes roving up and down and sticking somewhere around my butt. He laughed. “Too much fire and fury for you not to have seen your share of battles.”
“My king,” said a voice from near the doorway, nearly causing me to shoot out of my skin. “Alanna is… That is, the princess won’t allow me to put her in a condition to retreat.” Another pale elven man. His hair mussed, panic on his expression. “She’s trying to reach these powered humans.”
“Roots and sediment,” Alarik answered, clearly cussing in his own kind’s way. The other elf’s eyes went wide. Alarik waved dismissively at him. “Why did she have to come?” He sigh
ed. “How many of our own has Alanna infected?”
“Half, my liege,” said the soldier. His gaze finally rested on me, and he looked me up and down, clearly perplexed. “And so far, she hasn’t gotten close enough to any of the powered humans to try—”
“Damn it!” said Alarik, as loud as could be. “I told Xerxes to keep her behind—”
“He thinks—” started the elf.
“I don’t care what he thinks.” His gaze finally fell on me, though he still spoke to his soldier. “How long before the portal closes?”
“Four turns, sir,” said the elf.
Alarik grinned deviously. “Then give them our full might and fury. Half can still fight, so half will have to provide cover. And someone needs to knock out the princess! I don’t care if you have to fight her to do it.”
“But, Your Majesty—”
“Go!” barked the king. The elf did, scrambling, shouting out as he ran down the street.
Alarik and I stood there in silence a moment longer and then he grabbed me by the elbow. “Come.”
“What?” I tugged my arm free. “Are you joking? No!”
He stared down at me as if I were an idiot. “Are you going to attack me?”
Grinding my teeth, I attempted to dig my heels into the floor. I supposed that was answer enough.
“You can’t, either,” he said, crossing his arms and squeezing his chin between a thumb and forefinger, as if studying me. “You were affected by Alanna as well.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can’t use your powers.”
I growled in frustration. “My powers aren’t exactly… of the offensive variety, okay? Satisfied?”
If he’d wanted to kill me, he could have done it half a dozen ways by now. And his sister had saved me, so maybe…
He lowered his hand from his face. “So you don’t actually know if you can use them?”
“I, uh…” Shaking my head, something hit me. “Are you incapable of using your powers around your sister? Why?”