He frowned, understandably nonplussed by her apparent interpretation of an offer for coffee as a come on, but sat on the other chair and leaned forward, propping his forearms on his knees. “You are in a unique position to help me, Ms. Nightwing. You’re the only person I’ve ever come across who, genetically-speaking, should have powers, but doesn’t. I feel certain there must be something about you—your DNA, your physiology, something—that will help me in my research. You see, I’m looking to suppress unwieldy powers, particularly among those who are new to them and have yet to develop perfect control. All I would need from you would be a few samples, a few hours of your time—”
Tandy tuned him out. Any attraction she might have felt for him had evaporated with his second sentence. From that point on, she’d barely heard him over the ringing in her ears. Her stomach roiled at the thought of more tests. He was still talking, but she didn’t need to hear another word.
“No.”
He gave her a look like he couldn’t believe she’d actually refused him. The temperature in the room skyrocketed and sweat broke out on Tandy’s brow. What the hell was with the thermostat in this bunker?
“I must have heard you wrong.” Flashes of light flared around his hands.
A shiver of unease worked its way past the heat to chill Tandy. The flickers, the heat… What if his super power wasn’t sex appeal? What if the reason she felt so warm wasn’t his hotness, but the heat of a pyrokinetic?
Let him down easy. “I’m sorry, Dr. Eisenmann, but I’ve had a lot of tests performed on me, dozens of them at this very facility, and none of them have been able to determine why I’m the defective Nightwing. So I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have no interest in being poked and prodded all over again, just so you can get your next research grant.”
“You think this is about money?” He surged out of his chair and the lamp on his desk went up like a torch. He swore and hissed in a breath, the fire extinguishing immediately, but his temper was still close to the surface when he turned back to her. “This is about survival.”
And exaggeration, apparently. “If I could help you, I would. But there’s nothing I can do.”
“You can let me take samples. All I’m asking is for a little blood—”
“Trident has my blood on file. They took vials of it. I’m sure you can use some of that.” She stood, eager to be out of here, away from the memories. “Best of luck to you—”
“You aren’t leaving.” His big body was suddenly blocking the exit.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I didn’t think I would need to threaten a Nightwing to get her to agree to help me save lives, but if that’s what it takes, hell yes, I’m threatening you. Sit your ass down.”
How dare he imply she was less than her family? “I may not be Nightwing enough for you, but I sure as hell don’t respond to threats. Get out of my way.”
“I should have known you’d be selfish. God, look at you. Spoiled little rich girl. Your parents are heroes, your brothers keep the city—hell, the country—safe, and all you have to show for yourself are the designer labels on everything you’re wearing. Does it feel good to be the superhero of consumerism?”
“You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“I know you’re the Nightwing dud. I know your blood is my one chance of figuring out how to stop melting my goddamn desks down to lumps whenever I have a bad dream.”
“Oh, look at the big strong super. He’s so powerful he can barely contain himself. Am I supposed to be impressed?”
“You’re supposed to help me!”
“I can’t!” That was who Tandy was. The girl who couldn’t help anyone. The Nightwing dud.
The sound Eisenmann made was barely human—the roar was half animal, half fire as suddenly the room erupted. The desk was shooting flames, the chairs already engulfed.
Fear blazed through Tandy and she lunged toward the door, but Eisenmann was still in her way. “Let me out,” she shouted, slamming him in the chest with her briefcase.
He was big, solid. She shouldn’t have been able to budge him, but he staggered back and the flames vanished. Just disappeared from one breath to the next. The asshole. He’d probably been trying to scare her into agreeing to be his pincushion for his goddamn study. She lunged through the door before he could bar her way again, all but running across the lab toward the exit.
“You’ll get my blood when hell freezes over,” she yelled over her shoulder when she was certain she’d gotten away. No slapping of bare feet followed her as she fled the bunker.
* * * * *
Eisenmann sank to the floor, dropping his head into his hands as he listened to the sounds of Tandy’s heels retreating. He’d almost incinerated her. His control had been non-existent. The fire had roared to the fore until he was barely even conscious and he hadn’t had a prayer of backing it down. Then it just stopped.
He didn’t know how the hell that had happened, but he was grateful for it. No matter how obnoxious Tandy Nightwing was, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he harmed anyone else with his curse of a superpower.
She said no. He couldn’t believe she’d actually said no. He hadn’t wanted to be over-confident, hadn’t wanted to let on to anyone else how certain he was that Tandy Nightwing would be the answer, but when she said no it was a shock to his system. He’d been completely unprepared—and the fire had taken advantage.
He was lucky they were both still breathing.
She said she’d already been poked and prodded, told him to use the blood Trident had already drawn. Did they really have her blood?
Riding another—dangerous—surge of hope, Eisenmann rushed to the lab computer—the closest one that wasn’t currently fried to uselessness. He dug through the archives, searching for records with her name attached, but all he found was experiment after experiment featuring her brothers, her parents, and her cousins. Never Tandy.
If she had worked with Trident in the past, why was there no record of it? Eisenmann shot off an email to his superiors, asking for access to her files, on the off chance they’d been classified for some reason, and then shut down the computer.
He didn’t want to sign back into the forums. He couldn’t face Diana right now, not when he knew he’d failed her.
What was he going to tell her?
He was out of ideas. He’d needed this to work. Needed it so badly he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself what it meant. And just like that the last hope was dead. Murdered by a thoughtless, brutal no from a thoughtless spoiled girl.
He stalked to the freezer and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He filled a water glass and stared down at the innocuous liquid. Alcohol was dangerous to pyros. Anything that lowered inhibitions opened the door wider for the fire to walk in. He hadn’t had a drop in weeks. He shouldn’t have any now.
But if there was ever a night to get roaring drunk and pass out in a stupor, wasn’t it the night you realized all hope was lost and you were going to die alone? Because he couldn’t even be around the people he cared about without endangering them.
Not that he had many people who would miss him. He’d always been more preoccupied with his work than with making friends. An only child of two only children, he didn’t have much family to begin with. Just a pair of parents who were academics themselves and had never really been the nurturing sort.
Who did he really want to be with when he flamed out? Diana, maybe. She was the closest to a friend he had these days. And Tandy Nightwing had condemned them both.
Eisenmann took a long draught from the glass. Might as well go out in a blaze of glory. Not like he had any other options left.
Chapter Four – Boys Will Be Boys Assholes
Tandy juggled her Coach purse and BGSD briefcase as she rushed across the parking lot toward her Mercedes—okay, yes she was a walking rich girl cliché, but she had earned her luxury, damn it. What right did some sanctimonious science nerd with the most gorgeous body she’d ever seen ha
ve to imply that she spent her life capitalizing on her family name?
As she opened her car door, she shoved up her sleeve and caught a glimpse of her—Baume & Mercier Diamant steel and eighteen karat gold, thank you very much—watch. Late. Double damn it. She slid onto the tan leather seat, clicked her seatbelt and pushed the button to start the engine as she settled her bags on the passenger side. As soon as the car’s Bluetooth synced with her phone, she instructed it to call Anthony.
The ringing droned on as she pulled out of the Trident lot—tires squealing with her urgent need to get far, far away from there. She began to think she was going to get his voicemail, but when it clicked through she wasn’t greeted with a recording but a tentative, “Hello?”
“Darling, sorry I’m running late. You aren’t at my place already, are you?”
Anthony coughed. “Uh, Tandy, did you get my email?”
“I’ve been out of the office all afternoon and I think there’s something wrong with my phone’s email syncing. What did you email me about?” Though she had a feeling she already knew, if his hesitation was anything to go by. Something came up at work and they’d have to reschedule. Again. She really ought to feel disappointed, but she was too busy mentally scrolling through her to do list and deciding which items she could knock off during the time originally allocated for their rendezvous.
“I, uh… you really should read it…”
“I’m in my car, Anthony. I can’t read it now. What did you want to tell me?” He could be so frustratingly indirect—of course, that also made him less demanding, which she found ideal.
“About tonight. I can’t—”
“I thought that might be it. We’ll reschedule. How’s Tuesday for you? I have the final acquisition meeting at three, but I don’t expect it to run long—”
“I’m engaged.”
“Okay, I think I can make next Thursday—”
“To be married.” Anthony interrupted explosively, like he caught her Relationship Tourette’s.
Her first instinct was to gush Oh wow, congratulations! Then she remembered this was her lover making this announcement. “Excuse me?”
“I’m so sorry, Tandy. I never meant to hurt you. It just happened so fast!”
“You’re seriously engaged?”
“Her name is Amber. I never expected this to happen. She completes me, Tandy.”
And makes you talk in clichés. “This isn’t like you, Anthony. You never rush into things.” It had taken him five dates to get to second base.
A long silence answered her and she had a disturbing realization.
“You didn’t rush into this, did you? How long have you been seeing her?”
“I… you’ve been so busy… with the merger—”
“Acquisition,” she corrected like a whip snapping. “I talked to you two days ago. I asked you if you were free for the usual tonight and you said yes.” The usual was cocktails and a quiet dinner at her loft followed by sex. He’d said yes to sex when he was engaged.
Of course, he always said yes when she suggested they get together. Then right before they were supposed to meet up, he could call or text or email. Never his fault. Never that he didn’t want to see her. A meeting, a presentation, the flu.
My God, I’m such an idiot. “Were you even sick last weekend?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“So you let me think we were still in a relationship while you’ve been systematically avoiding me for the last—” She did the math rapidly in her head. “Five weeks?”
“I thought we might just drift apart and I wouldn’t have to say anything. You never seemed that emotionally invested in me.”
She hadn’t been invested, but that was hardly the point. He’d lied—in the most cowardly way possible. “Why didn’t you just say something? All this time you’ve been stringing me along…” Though, admittedly, she hadn’t exactly noticed or minded. She’d been so busy with her work she’d only realized she wasn’t getting laid regularly on the odd midnight when she couldn’t get to sleep.
“I never wanted to hurt you—”
“Bullshit. You didn’t want me to be mad at you. That’s not the same thing, you non-confrontational nincompoop.”
“Tandy, you have to know how sorry I am.” He choked and for a second she almost thought he was crying. “Please don’t tell your brothers.”
Please don’t tell… that slimy little weasel. That chickenshit bastard. Anger flashed white hot. “You weren’t trying to spare my feelings because you care about me, or even because you were afraid I’d be mad. You were afraid I’d tell my brothers you hurt me and they would dismember you.”
He whimpered. “Please, Tandy. I don’t want to die.”
“This isn’t the middle ages, you dipshit! People don’t get murdered for breaking a girl’s heart!” Not that her heart was broken. Her pride, maybe, but her heart didn’t feel half bad, pounding away under pulses of anger-fueled adrenaline. “Besides, they’re heroes. They save people. They would never break you in half like a toothpick no matter how badly you deserve it.” Though there was no denying Frost had a dark side.
The sound coming from the phone sounded distinctly like a sob.
“Oh, grow a pair! If you weren’t such a coward, we could have ended this weeks ago and I could have moved on to someone who actually deserves my time.” Unbidden, an image of Eisenmann flashed in her mind. Though obviously she wouldn’t have moved on to him. Certainly not.
“Tandy—”
“Goodbye, Anthony. I hope you and Amber—“ An email. He was going to break up with me with an email. “Oh, never mind. I’m not wishing you well.”
She disconnected the call, only then becoming aware of her surroundings. She was in the Nightwing Corp parking lot. She must have driven to there on auto-pilot—which was more than a little disconcerting since she didn’t remember a single second of the drive. Note to self, no more cell phone conversations while driving.
She turned off the engine and sat in her car, trying to figure out exactly what she was feeling. Her boyfriend of six months—well, five if you didn’t count the last one when they hadn’t seen each other and he’d apparently been working up the nerve to propose to Amber—had just announced he was engaged to another woman. By rights, she should be sobbing right now, but all she felt was irritated. The coward. He could have told her weeks ago. He didn’t have to keep agreeing to see her then fabricating excuses why he couldn’t. Sure, she had been using him for sex and as an emotional prop so she didn’t have to invest in a real relationship, but she’d never lied about it.
Why couldn’t men just be honest? Straightforward. Why did they have to get so caught up in telling you what they thought you wanted to hear, that they ended up in relationships they were too chickenshit to get out of? It was the most galling sort of humiliation.
Bad enough to be rejected, but to be rejected by someone who didn’t even have the balls to reject her? And then, doubly insulting, it wasn’t even her Anthony was afraid of, but her big bad superhero brothers. Because God knows Tandy hadn’t been compared to them and found wanting her entire freaking life.
At least Eisenmann had been honest about what he wanted to use her for. He may think she was only useful to him because she was useless as a super, but he hadn’t tried to cover it up or sugar coat it in any way. He’d given her that much respect.
Which was more than anyone else had ever done.
Even her parents tried to candy-coat things for her. You’re super in your own way, Tandy. We love the way you’re different, Tandy. And her favorite, Some of our best friends don’t have any super powers at all. They meant well, but it was so damn patronizing. She knew exactly what she was and what she wasn’t.
She was the super dud who’d compensated by getting her MBA at twenty-one. She was the girl who lived her job, earning a reputation as a corporate shark and quadrupling the family holdings by her twenty-eighth birthday. And she was the girl who came home to an empty
loft at night and secretly devoured the tales of superhero derring-do in the papers.
Her cell phone rang, startling her, and Tandy dug into her bag to fish it out. Darla. “Hey, DynaGirl, what’s up?”
“Tell me again why I can’t murder Lucien’s sister?”
“Because it’s illegal and your boyfriend might react badly if you start killing off his family members. What did she do this time? Rob another bank?”
“Nothing like that. She seems to be almost serious about this whole turning-over-a-new-leaf thing. I’m skeptical, but she really does seem to be playing it straight. At least for now.”
“Sounds like Captain Justice has been a good influence on her. The love of a good man, and all that crap.”
“Whoa, is that bitterness I hear? I thought you liked Justice and Mirage.”
“I do. I’m just off romance at the moment.” She heard Darla suck in a breath to ask her why and quickly cut her off. “The Sun Petro-Chem acquisition has been sucking up my life.”
“Are you sure that’s all—”
“I saw your friend Eisenmann today,” Tandy offered by way of distraction.
“You did?” Darla gasped, latching onto the distraction. “How did he look? He won’t let any of us through the front door.”
“He looked—” Big, sexy, muscle-bound, fierce, angry. “—tired.”
Darla sighed. “Poor Eisenmann. Did you find out why he wanted to see you?”
Tandy grimaced. “He thinks my DNA may hold the secret to suppressing unwieldy powers.”
“Suppressing… of course. That’s brilliant. I know he’s been having trouble with his control ever since his powers developed—”
“His control seemed fine,” Tandy grumbled, remembering the way the fire had vanished in a blink when she pushed her way past him.
But then the image of the melted down desk came to mind. She’d thought he was bragging at the time—claiming he was so powerful he couldn’t control himself—but now that she wasn’t inside the belly of the beast, ready to scratch his face off for calling her the Nightwing Dud, she realized he may not have meant it as a boast. Maybe the vanishing fire had been a fluke.
Super Hot (a Superlovin' novella) Page 3