Super Hot (a Superlovin' novella)

by Andrews, Vivi

He laughed at her version of an endearment. “I’m not alone. I promise. I’m working with other scientists online. We’re close, Tandy. It won’t be long now.”

  His computer pinged, notifying him of an incoming message and all the focus he had left evaporated at the sound. “Tandy, I have to go. That might be Diana. I’ll keep you posted.”

  He’d hung up and was halfway across the lab to his computer before he realized he should have waited for her response. He grabbed a new keyboard and mouse, agonizing over every second it took them to sync to the computer, then clicked on the flashing IM message. DocDavid. Damn it. Not Diana. Where the hell was she?

  He glanced at the message, barely sparing it a thought. Intravenous neural inhibitors ineffective in power suppression test.

  Eisenmann blinked, his scattered attention caught. Was DocDavid already to the point of trials? Who was he testing on? Intravenous neural inhibitors. It wasn’t a bad idea, but Eisenmann had already discarded it as unlikely to work. Almost like his ray gun idea. Though now, knowing how Tandy’s abilities affected brainwaves, perhaps some kind of frequency emitter wasn’t such a terrible idea. Kind of like an anti-super dog whistle. Provided he could control the range. Frequency emitters could be tricky like that.

  He shot off a quick message thanking DocDavid for the data and closed the chat screen. Where was Diana? He couldn’t seem to concentrate on his work without knowing, but he couldn’t exactly call Area Nine and ask to speak to one of the inmates.

  Eisenmann’s gaze caught on the phone box he’d never noticed embedded in the wall beside the door. He couldn’t call Area Nine. But Darla Powers could. She could find out if anything had happened to Diana. Tandy said Darla wanted to help. Well, right now nothing would help so much as knowing he wasn’t too late to save Diana.

  Eisenmann reached for the phone.

  * * * * *

  Tandy glared at her phone. Who the hell was Diana? And why had Eisenmann been in such a hurry to get off the phone as soon as he realized she might be there?

  Crap, was he married?

  He didn’t wear a wedding ring, but what did that mean? Lots of people didn’t wear rings. Surely Darla would have mentioned if he were married—she’d said his hotness was for Tandy—but she also hadn’t thought Eisenmann and Tandy getting together was a real possibility. She’d been teasing. Maybe Eisenmann and his wife Diana were estranged because of the pyromania, but as soon as Tandy’s abilities gave them a cure they could be together again?

  She was going to make herself crazy. Tandy quickly dialed Darla.

  “DynaGirl the Magnificent.”

  Tandy snorted. “Do you always answer the phone that way?”

  “Naw. My mother would be all over me about how unprofessional it is. Image is important, Darla. But I’ve got caller-ID. Knew it was you. What’s up?”

  “Is Eisenmann married?”

  “Whoa, are you falling for our studly resident Fireman, Ms. Nightwing?”

  Of course I am. “I was just on the phone with him and he said he had to go because of some other woman.” Diana. “I was just curious.”

  “Oh, you are so much more than curious.”

  “Darla.”

  “If you want to pretend you aren’t pea green with jealousy that’s fine by me, but I’m just saying, where there’s smoke there’s fire, baby, and you are smoking—”

  “Is he married or not?”

  “Impatient, aren’t we? To the best of my knowledge Dr. Eisenmann is still a confirmed bachelor. Very confirmed.” Then a low laugh rippled over the phone. “And speak of the devil, I appear to have a call coming in from Trident. Should I tell him to pass you a note after study hall?”

  “Don’t you dare.” Why would he be calling Darla? Was he finally reaching out for help? Tandy was startled by how insulted she was that he hadn’t called her.

  “I’ll call you later. See ya, Tand.”

  “Darla, don’t tell him I asked if he was married,” she pleaded, but the call had already disconnected.

  So he wasn’t married. That didn’t mean Diana wasn’t his girlfriend. Darla hadn’t seen him in a while. How could she know? Eisenmann had never given Tandy any indication he was interested in her as anything more than a test subject, a means to an end. But she wanted to be more than the girl he used to dampen his powers. She wanted to be important to him.

  Darla was right. She was falling hard for the tormented Dr. Eisenmann.

  The only problem was he didn’t seem to feel the same. She knew what he would say if she confessed her growing feelings for him. He couldn’t be involved with anyone right now. He respected her as a friend. She deserved better.

  All the usual useless platitudes when a man didn’t want a woman.

  Her phone rang, startling her, and she scrambled for it, her heartbeat only slowing when she saw Darla’s name on the Caller-ID. “Hey.”

  “Her name is Diana. She’s a teenage pyrokinetic he’s been corresponding with in Area Nine and he’s freaked out because he hasn’t heard from her in a while. I’m going to see if I can finagle my contacts into telling me why she’s gone radio silent, but I just thought you should know he isn’t madly in love with someone else.”

  She tried not to feel stupidly relieved that Diana wasn’t a rival. “I’m not in love with him.”

  “No, of course you aren’t. He’s vile. No one in their right mind would find him attractive.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you about how hot he is or isn’t.”

  “You sure? I’d let you win.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Well, don’t go talking yourself out of liking him. He may be a human flame thrower, but he’s quality. You could do worse.”

  I know. “Good bye, Darla.”

  “Hasta la vista, Tandy. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “I didn’t know anything fell into the category of things you wouldn’t do.”

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter Twelve – Break On Through

  As soon as the first lick of flame burst into life at his fingertips, Eisenmann ran toward the frequency emitter. It was a massive slab of machinery—far from a portable solution—but it was the best he’d been able to come up with requisitioning and adapting Trident materials.

  He wasn’t sure, and that uncertainty made the flames at his fingertips erupt into full-fledged fireballs before he made it to the machine. He’d set it to duplicate the wave Tandy had pulsed through his body, but what if that wasn’t all she had done? So much could go wrong. Maybe it would do nothing. Maybe it would do too much and scramble his brain.

  If he’d heard back from Darla about Diana, or heard from the girl herself, maybe he wouldn’t take this risk. He kept hearing Tandy’s voice in his head, cautioning him not to take risks, calling him a dozen different kinds of stupid ass. But he hadn’t slept through the night in weeks. He needed this to work now. For himself. For Diana. Hell, even for Tandy so that all he’d put her through would be worth it.

  His hands were engulfed, but he’d set it up so all he had to do was hit a button. He struck it quickly, jerking his hand back before the fire could jump to the machine. It hummed softly as it warmed up.

  “Come on. Come on, work, damn it.”

  Ten seconds. That’s how long it should take. Ten seconds to create and emit the wave. Then the effects should be as instantaneous as Tandy’s power.

  Longest damn ten seconds of his life.

  It had to have been ten seconds by now. It wasn’t working. Shit, why wasn’t it working? Eric tried to breathe, tried to push the fire back, retake control, but that shattered hope made the flame bloom, expanding, swallowing more space, tightening around him—

  Then gone. Poof. From one second—the tenth second—to the next. Just gone.

  Eisenmann gasped. “Fuck me, it worked.”

  Tandy. He had to tell Tandy.

  The phone seemed to ring forever. He paced—two steps left, two steps right, all the short cord tethering him to the w
all would allow.

  A click. A breathy sigh. A groggy, “Hello?”

  “Tandy.” He’d woken her. He ought to care but there was so much adrenaline surging through him right now he wasn’t thinking straight. Adrenaline that wasn’t riding a fire high. He vaguely realized he’d left the emitter active. How long would it continue to inhibit his pyromancy before causing neurological damage?

  “Eric? It’s two in the morning.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” He hadn’t known. He wasn’t sorry. “I had to tell you right away. It worked, Tandy. We did it.” As soon as the words left his mouth. As soon as Tandy knew, it was suddenly real. Success. His knees buckled and he braced a hand against the wall to keep from collapsing to the floor.

  “Are you serious?” she gasped, suddenly sounding very awake. “What—how—God, I can’t even think.”

  “A psychic frequency emitter. I have no idea what the range is or how we can make it portable enough to be useful—we don’t want a stray wave knocking supers out of the sky—but it worked. Being pyrokinetic is no longer a death sentence.” He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

  “You can finally sleep without worrying about setting things on fire in your dreams.”

  “I couldn’t sleep now. There’s too much to do.” He’d just been given a second lease on life. He wasn’t going to waste it sleeping.

  “Can I help? I’m a gadget designer, remember. I could help you—”

  “Yes. Absolutely. Can you come tomorrow? Is that too soon?”

  “I’ll clear my schedule.” The excitement in her voice nearly matched his own. “Congratulations, Eric.”

  “Thank you, Tandy. For everything.” She’d never given up on him. She hadn’t let him push her away, even when she should have. He would never forget that. “You’re a good friend.”

  “Right.” She cleared her throat. “Of course. So are you. Good friend. Good night, Eric.”

  “Night.”

  He dropped the phone back in its cradle and crossed the room to shut off the emitter. The fire didn’t immediately surge back to life when the machine stopped its soft humming. It was truly tamed. At least for now.

  He checked the machine for signs that it had suffered from its brief interaction with the fire, but it seemed to be in perfect working order. He strode to his computer, eager to input the results, and found a message tab already flashing. He hadn’t heard the ping. He clicked on it, half expecting to see DocDavid, the most persistent of his collaborators, but instead a very familiar handle appeared.

  A9-2172: What’s up, Doc?

  He couldn’t type his reply fast enough.

  TridentDoc: Thank God, you’re all right! I’ve been panicked.

  A9-2172: Set a computer on fire and got my privileges revoked until I could go a full day without lighting up.

  TridentDoc: You picked a good day to get your privileges back. We did it! We have a cure, kid.

  The cursor blinked silently as the seconds ticked by. Then, when he’d begun to think she must have disconnected, a message popped up.

  A9-2172: You better not be messing with me, Doc.

  TridentDoc: I wouldn’t joke about this.

  A9-2172: What is it? A pill? A shot? I’m not so good with needles, but for this I’ll stick myself ten times a day.

  TridentDoc: No needles. It’s a frequency emitter. A machine.

  A9-2172: Sonic or psychic?

  Eisenmann blinked, startled by the question. Psychic frequencies were a very new science. That a teenage girl even knew to ask that question was beyond impressive.

  TridentDoc: Psychic. Don’t worry about the details. I’ll get the prototype to you.

  A9-2172: How? When?

  He smiled at her impatience.

  TridentDoc: Soon. I had a friend working contacts in Area Nine when you disappeared for so long. That same friend will help me arrange delivery of my prototype. I’ll just build another one for myself. The nightmare is almost over, Diana.

  The cursor blinked blankly for so long he thought he’d lost her again, maybe pushed her into a flame out with the hope he should have doled out more cautiously. Then, finally…

  A9-2172: You’re the best, Doc. My time’s up. See you round.

  The computer gave him a user offline message before he could reply. It was an oddly brusque dismissal, but it was so hard to read emotions in chat. She was probably so excited she could hardly contain herself long enough to type a single sentence.

  He quickly opened his email program and typed up a request to the Trident higher ups that the prototype be delivered to Area Nine as a life-saving measure. After he hit send, he lifted his hands from the keyboard, studying them. Not a trace, not a single flicker of flame.

  Could the cure be permanent? He still felt the fire, lurking in the back of his brain, but it wasn’t pushing now. It wasn’t fighting to be free. Curious, he went to stand in front of the emitter, ready to hit the button on a moment’s notice, and reached for the fire, invited it in.

  Nothing.

  Had he cut some sort of link to the pyrokinetic part of his brain? Some supers wouldn’t want to use the emitter if the effects were permanent, but for people like him and Diana this was even better. He was practically human again.

  He could have his life back. Or better yet, he could live like he’d been too stupidly focused on his work to live before everything changed.

  As if cued by his thoughts, the vault doors swung open and revealed Tandy standing on his threshold. Her glass green eyes were wide and she was breathing quickly—as if she’d run to get to him. She’d obviously dressed in a hurry—ragged jeans, sandals and a faded t-shirt, her hair flicked up on one side in a cowlick—and she’d never looked more exquisite than she did in that moment.

  “I couldn’t wait,” she said, a breathless confession.

  He was already moving toward her, driven by a single-minded need that only intensified with each step. She met him partway, reaching for him as he reached for her, never slowing until she landed against his chest and his arms closed around her, fitting her so perfectly he wondered how he’d ever survived for so long without her there. He lifted her easily until her mouth was level with his and sealed his lips to hers as her arms twined around his neck. This. This was heat. This was fire. All his higher functions were burned away, leaving room only for need. For Tandy.

  Chapter Thirteen – Burn, Baby, Burn

  Eisenmann was kissing her. Tandy held on as if at any moment this dream could be pulled away from her, wrapping her legs around his waist. His hands were large, possessive and never still. Spanning her waist. Cupping the back of her neck. Stroking up her sides to tease his thumbs close to her breasts. She didn’t know where this was going, or rather she knew exactly where it felt like it was going, but she’d never gone from zero to sex so fast.

  Her brain kept trying to interfere, asking what the hell she was doing, what this meant for their relationship, trying to find rules and definitions and intentions inside the rush of sensation—then he pivoted and pinned her hard against the wall and her ability to think evaporated in the press of his body into hers. He shifted her slightly lower so his erection notched perfectly against her, grinding down until she whimpered helplessly for more. His answering laugh was dark and sexy as hell and Tandy nearly came from the seductive promise of it.

  He released her lips, moving his attention down the side of her neck, and she immediately dropped her forehead to his shoulder, gripping two fistfuls of his shirt. She gave a soft moaning laugh. “Now you wear a shirt?”

  He leaned back, forcing her to lift her head, and pushed her hair back from her face, framing it with his palms. For a moment, his eyes were unfocused, as dazed as hers probably were. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  And that was it. If she hadn’t been in love with him before that moment, that sealed the deal. How was she supposed to resist that?

  Of course, that was no guarantee that he felt anything more than a fierce sexual urgency toward her. Not
that fierce sexual urgency was anything to scoff at, but he was giving her too much time to think, just staring down at her with that sexy haze in his amber eyes.

  Suddenly where there had been only desire before, now there was room for doubt and confusion and fear of what this would mean in the morning to creep in. If she asked him about the future, that would kill this moment and she would never get it back, but could she throw herself into the deep end without knowing if he would ever feel for her what she felt for him?

  Seeming to sense that he’d lost her, Eric murmured, “What’s going on in there?”

  “You’re letting me think too much,” she said, making the words a playful invitation.

  He chuckled. “We can’t have that.”

  He leaned in, still framing her face, and pressed a soft, slow kiss to her lips, teasing and sampling until her doubts began to fade away and her eyelids fluttered helplessly closed. He was deliberate, tasting and caressing everywhere he could reach, his hips pinning her to the wall as he worked her farther and farther away from good sense. He broke away only long enough to pull his shirt over his head. She ran eager hands over all that beautiful muscle as he palmed the smooth skin of her stomach and slowly stroked upward, her shirt gathering on the backs of his hands. She hadn’t bothered with a bra when she threw on her clothes and Eric hissed out a curse when his hands cupped her bare breasts. She yanked off her shirt, tossing it after his, and then he was kissing her again, grabbing her by her ass and lifting her, moving swiftly toward the bedroom.

  He stopped on the threshold, his muscles going even harder beneath her hands. “Shit,” he growled. “I incinerated my bed.”

  “Couch,” she said urgently, tugging his shoulders until he changed direction and carried her back to the minimalist living room.

  He set her on the couch, kissing her soundly until she was a melted puddle of want. “Don’t move,” he demanded, and then he was gone.

  Leaving her space to think.

  To fight the creep of her better judgment, Tandy kicked off her sandals, unbuttoned her jeans and wriggled out of them, kicking them aside. Then she was alone. In just her underwear. Waiting with all her doubts for company. Crap. What was she doing?