Super Zero

by Rhonda Stapleton

  “We’ll square up later, okay?" I said in a rush. "I promise.”

  He nodded slowly, a slow smile creeping across his face, and I wondered what the hell I’d just gotten myself into.

  Chapter 6

  “Amy, dear, hand me the peas, please.” Mom held out her hand as Amy passed her the bowl. She heaped a big pile onto her plate.

  I’ve never seen anyone love peas as much as my mom does. It’s almost a sickness. Personally I can’t stand them, but I force myself to eat them when I visited her house to avoid the ten-minute lecture on how I wasn’t getting enough vegetables.

  “So, Dwight,” my mom said, “tell me more about you. What do you do?”

  Amy peeked over at Dwight, her date. He wasn’t exactly her type—Amy typically tended to fall for the tall, dark, and handsome type. Like Vigilante.

  But poor, slightly balding Dwight totally looked to me like an accountant or a life insurance salesman. His pale pink polo shirt was carefully tucked into ironed khaki pants. Dwight looked like he probably ironed his socks too.

  What did she see in the guy? Maybe he was amazing in the sack. But something about the way the dining room table light glinted off his large silver eyeglass frames told me that wasn’t the appeal. I made a mental note to quiz her later until she dished the goods.

  Dwight finished his forkful of meatloaf, chewing twenty-five times before he spoke. I knew how long it took, because I sat in amazement as he nodded slightly to count each bite in his head, mentally ticking them off. I didn’t think anyone actually did that.

  “Well,” he replied, “I sell accidental death and dismemberment insurance for High Life Insurance.”

  I snorted and felt a foot swiftly kick my shin under the table. Amy glared at me, and a teeny spark of a fire flared in her pupils. I quickly straightened my face, shooting her an ‘I’m sorry’ look.

  Mom stared intently at Dwight. “Well, isn’t that morbid.” Mom didn’t pull punches, and I cringed at her blunt words.

  Dwight tilted his head. “How so? The odds of getting in a fatal non-transportation accident are one in sixty-nine. It only makes sense to be prepared for such an emergency.”

  “So, Jenna, how did you and Vigilante meet?” Amy interrupted to ask me, a smug grin on her face.

  Evil bitch! She knew I wouldn’t tell Mom about the changing crystal stuff, and she was going to torture me all evening with the date thing, knowing Vigilante was a bodyguard and not a real date. I was so going to kick her ass later.

  “Um, well, I—” My brain completely froze, and I blanked out. What was I going to say? Think, stupid!

  “Funny story, actually,” Vigilante interrupted me, shooting me an amused glance. “She tripped on something in the park and was about to fall in the pond when I rescued her. You know how clumsy Jenna is.” He looked at me. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart? ”

  With as much subtlety as I could, I elbowed him in the side. He didn’t even flinch. The grin on his face grew even wider.

  “That’s right, darling, ” I said in the most sugary tone possible, “but you didn’t finish the story. Right after you ‘rescued’ me from my near fall in the lake, you slipped and fell right in my place.” I looked at my mom. “He looked so cute soaking wet, like a little puppy. Luckily, he didn’t smell like a wet puppy, or that would have been the end of that.” I turned my attention back to Vigilante, giving him a simpering smile. “Guess we have something in common after all, dear.”

  Smile still planted firmly on his face, he clenched his jaw, his eyes slitting ever so slightly. I could tell I’d stung his ego—I guess Mr. Perfecto didn’t want anyone thinking he could screw stuff up.

  “Guess so,” he finally said.

  Mom sighed, watching. “That’s just a lovely story. What about you, Amy? How did you and Dwight meet?”

  Dwight pushed his metal-rimmed glasses up his nose, shooting Vigilante a disdainful look. “Well, that’s an interesting story, too. See, I was hired by HR of Amy’s company to give a lecture on the cutting-edge news about accidental death and dismemberment policies—”

  I grabbed my napkin and chortled hard in the cloth folds, trying to make it sound like a cough. I tried my best to keep it inside, but it just wasn’t happening. Cutting-edge news? What, like futuristic ways to kick off?

  Vigilante slammed his hand against my back several times, almost jarring me out of my seat. “You okay? You sound like you’re choking.”

  Holy hell, that hurt. I glared at him through watery eyes, my back stinging from his thwacks. His eyes were innocent and wide, like he was actually worried, but I knew better.

  “Yes,” I ground out. “And thank you so kindly for your concern.”

  We managed to get through the rest of the meal without Amy setting me on fire, or me bursting out into more uncontrolled laughter. Once we’d eaten our fill of meatloaf, Amy and I helped Mom clear the table, finishing in no time.

  Mom lingered in the kitchen to wash the dishes, shooing us out of the room.

  “Let’s play a game,” Amy said, clapping her hands. “I know just the perfect one, but I’ll grab a couple from downstairs so we can vote.” She dashed to the basement then came back up with a pile of board games in her hands.

  I groaned, shooting an exaggerated look at my watch. No way did I want to be stuck here any longer with Dwight the Dullard. Or Amy and my mom, for that matter.

  “Oh, darn it, would you look at that?” I said, stretching my arms widely. “It’s sooo late. I need to head out now. But thanks anyway.” I grabbed the cooler from underneath the chair and headed toward the door.

  “Aw, come on,” Amy whined. “I was going to challenge you to a rematch in Clue.”

  “What’s the rush?” Vigilante’s low voice stopped me dead in my tracks. “Afraid of losing?”

  I slowly turned around, knowing he was talking about our verbal sparring, and shot him what I hoped was a cold glare. “Oh, I never lose at Clue. Never.”

  His eyes twinkled. The man was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Game on.”

  It was a well-known fact in the Peterson household that I was a competitive little freak. Being the younger sister of a girl like Amy would do that to you. Thus, I spent my entire youth overcompensating for my lack of superpowers by perfecting my skills at Clue.

  Sad, pathetic, but totally true. If only they gave out medals for wins like that, since it was the one thing in which I whomped Amy’s ass every time. Not that she didn’t stop trying to challenge me every few months or so, even well into our adulthood. And apparently, tonight was gonna be another battle royale.

  Winner takes all.

  I was so there.

  I sat back down in the dining room chair, tucking the cooler under my feet. “Let’s get it on, people.” They were about to taste my wrath. I hoped Vigilante wasn’t a sore loser.

  Dwight and Amy parked it in the chairs across from Vigilante and me. I sorted the cards and the rest of the game pieces and handed Vigilante the dice so we could start playing.

  Throughout the game I tried to concentrate on my typical strategy, which included reading my opponents’ faces for signs of bluffing, but Vigilante was throwing me off my game. Every time he leaned over to move his piece into another Clue room on the board, a waft of his woodsy cologne hit me.

  Bastard! He had to know how distracting he was, even though I tried my hardest to pretend all was cool. Pretend his scent wasn’t making me think things I didn’t want to be thinking about him.

  As the game progressed, tension rose. Dwight scratched his ear, studying the board with a heavy squint. “Wait, you cheated!” he exclaimed to Vigilante, his voice cracking in frustration. “The doorway counts as a step.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Vigilante replied calmly.

  “Yes, it does.” Dwight leaned forward in the seat, locking eyes with Vigilante.

  Oh my God, this little prick was getting on my nerves. Amy’s date or not, he was going to get clocked if he didn’t stop acting like a je
rk.

  “No. It doesn’t.” Vigilante’s lips tightened as he ground out the words.

  “He’s right,” I said to Dwight. “It doesn’t count as a space.”

  Amy, with the uncharacteristic patience of a saint, tugged Dwight back, handing him the instruction book. “Let’s just read the directions,” she said in a gentle voice. “Maybe it’ll help.”

  Dwight’s eyes scanned the pages quickly then scanned them again. “Oh,” he mumbled. “I guess this edition doesn’t list that particular rule.”

  “I guess not,” I said, trying to keep the sneer out of my voice. No sense being overtly hostile. “Now, let’s get back to playing.”

  I studied my notebook. I’d already figured out the killer and the weapon, but was down to two crime scene rooms. I could taste sweet, sweet victory closing in.

  Vigilante ran his eyes over his notebook then put it down. “I’d like to make an accusation. It was Mrs. White, in the kitchen, with the rope.” He put the white piece and the rope in the kitchen, then grabbed the small yellow folder from the center of the board and took out the cards, revealing them to us.

  Mrs. White.

  Kitchen.

  Rope.

  “Wait! He cheated,” I blurted, sounding as bad as Dwight the Dullard, but come on. Vigilante had to have some special power to have beaten me. “X-Ray vision?” I asked.

  He arched a dark brow.

  “ESP?” I said weakly, beginning to fear the worst.

  “Sorry, you’re just going to have to accept the truth.” He smiled in such a smug way I wanted to smack him.

  Then reality set in, chilling me to the core. Oh my God, I’d just lost Clue for the first time ever. It was like the apocalypse, the end of times. Surely the four horsemen would come galloping through the dining room, setting fire to the carpets and wreaking mass destruction.

  Amy took one look at my face and laughed. Hard. She bent over the table, tears streaming out of the corners of her eyes. “Wow, someone get a camera right now. I’ve never seen such a sourpuss before.”

  “You suck,” I said to her. I looked at Vigilante. “Well, congrats. Guess I was wrong,” I mumbled. Man, I was the sore loser. Not cool. And here I was worried Vigilante would be a jerk about it if he’d lost. I tried to paste on a smile. “I was torn between the kitchen and the conservatory.”

  “It wasn’t the conservatory,” he said. “Dwight had that card.”

  Dwight’s bushy eyebrows shot straight up. “How did you know that?” he asked, clutching the cards to his chest. “You do have x-ray vision, don’t you? I knew it. You cheated to win. That’s how you knew.”

  Good Lord, I’d gotten ol’ Dwight started again. I should have kept my trap shut.

  Vigilante raised his other eyebrow. “It was the first card you showed me.”

  “Oh.” Dwight’s cheeks flamed bright red. He coughed lightly then seemed to regain his resolve. “Hey, your line of work is dangerous, I bet. Has anyone talked to you about accidental death and dismemberment insurance?” He leaned down and grabbed a pamphlet out of his briefcase, spreading it wide open on top of the Clue board. “If you lose one eye and one hand or foot, you get—”

  “That’s fascinating, but we really need to go now,” I said, practically yanking Vigilante out of his seat and grabbing the beer cooler. “Sorry, but I have a ton of work things to finish up tonight.”

  I hugged Amy goodbye. “Call me when you hear anything about you-know-what,” I whispered in her ear. If anyone could find dirt about the guys looking for the crystal, Amy could. She had connections I couldn’t fathom.

  She nodded. “Will do.”

  Mom bolted out of the kitchen to say her goodbyes. She squeezed the air out of Vigilante, hugging him tightly. “Oh, honey, we were so glad to have you here. You must come back, okay? Don’t be a stranger.” She thrust an aluminum-foiled plate into his hand. “Here are some leftovers. I insist you take them.”

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling. His white teeth flashed, and my heart stopped beating for a second as I saw his small dimple pop up in his right cheek.

  Once again, I was stunned. This guy was totally cute. Even though he was the pain in the ass who stole my Clue championship title, he was still a hottie.

  I finally dragged him away from my mom and managed to get us back to the car. We drove off in silence—me thinking about why I was reacting to Vigilante like this, him thinking about…well, God only knew what. He was back to that I’m-too-cool-for-small-talk thing, I guess.

  Once back at his house, I tucked the cooler under my bed then grabbed my jammies, ready to hit the hay. It was only ten, but for some reason I felt drained.

  For a fleeting second I wished I’d brought something a little sexier than shorts and a t-shirt. But for what reason? It wasn’t like he was going to be tempted by my naked legs or anything. Beside, even though I’d told Vigilante we’d square up later about him faking it as my date, he hadn’t mentioned one word about it.

  And I sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up—what if he asked for something weird? Or, even worse, said he didn’t want anything from me at all? The embarrassment of being rebuffed by him would be mortifying.

  I grimaced, grabbing the towel off the corner post of the bed and plodding my way to the bathroom. As I showered I wondered what Vigilante looked like under that mask. Did he shower with that thing on? Were his cheekbones high? Did he have one of those massive cavemen brows that made his eyes all sunken in?

  Somehow I doubted he looked anything but sexy.

  I made quick work of cleaning myself then shut the faucet off and dried with the towel…promptly realizing I’d left my clothes in my room. Drat.

  Maybe I could run for it. I creaked the door open and stuck my head out the hallway. All clear. Tiptoeing, I made my way toward the room.

  “Well,” a low, long drawl came from behind me, “looks like someone got caught with their pants down.”

  I froze in my tracks. Of course. The man had impeccable timing.

  “Sorry,” I said, a warm flush working its way across my chest. “I left my clothes in my room.”

  He walked around to face me. I watched his eyes as a droplet of water ran off the tip of my wet hair, slipping down my collarbone to the top of my breast. His pupils darkened from behind the mask. He reached out his fingers and brushed the droplet away then jerked his hand back when he realized what he did, his eyes wide in surprise for the briefest of moments.

  A surge of desire slammed through me, hard. My flesh tingled from his touch. I sucked in a rapid breath, suddenly wanting to feel his mouth there, on my skin, instead of just his hand.

  He stepped back with the hint of a smile on his face, allowing me to pass. “Be my guest.”

  What was happening here? I didn’t want to be attracted to this man. It wasn’t the smart thing to do, especially given the situation. I rushed past him and closed the door, cheeks burning. I heard him chuckle through the other side as he strolled by.

  Yup, it was going to be a long night.

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning, crabby and desperately in need of more sleep. I’d lain in bed for at least three hours, debating getting up and talking to Vigilante, then quickly talked myself out of it because it was a stupid idea, then thought maybe it would kill some time…and so on.

  It also didn’t help that I was sleeping in his bed. I tried not to think of the box of condoms lying inconspicuously in his side table, almost begging me to take one out and throw it at him. Not that they were likely any good anymore, but maybe if I did that he’d get the hint that I found him attractive.

  But how did he feel about me? He was sending some mixed signals. The memory of his finger brushing my skin made me burn way too hot. I could only imagine how it would feel to actually kiss him.

  So instead of looking refreshed and ready to go the next day, I looked well-used. And not in the good way.

  Still wearing my t-shirt and shorts, I stumbled down the stairs and
headed right to the kitchen. Vigilante was already there, dressed in his perpetual black outfit. I felt instantly irritated that he looked so attractive and awake, when I felt like dog poo warmed over.

  I needed that cup of coffee, STAT.

  “Don’t you ever wear anything else?” I asked in a surlier voice than I intended. I grabbed the coffee mug on the table and poured myself a cup. The tangy, strong coffee scent hit my nose, and I perked up a little. Yes, coffee—nectar of the gods. I parked my butt in the seat at the kitchen table, taking a long drink from the mug.

  Ah, just what I needed. A few more cups, and I should be almost human.

  “Aren’t you cheery,” he replied, his voice droll. “Here. Read this.” He threw the morning paper at me. It skidded across the table.

  I took another drag from my drink then read the headline. SummerTech CEO Death Not Suicide. “Wow, that’s wild. Isn’t he the one who jumped out the window yesterday?”

  “Sure is. I need to find out why Dementrix is interested in SummerTech.”

  “Well, how are you planning to do that?” I scanned the rest of the article, trying to will myself more awake so I could comprehend what it said.

  Even though the jump looked like a suicide, the police found some kind of date book where Bradley Summers wrote a cryptic note about Dementrix. That, plus the fact that Dementrix was now in charge of the company, meant something fishy was going on.

  “I need to get my hands on more evidence in his office.” Vigilante pointed at the article. “That date book’s our first clue that something’s wrong.”

  I stood. “Well, that’s all well and good, but what about me? You can’t go ditching me to run off and solve another crime. We have a crystal to protect, remember?”

  He shook his head. “You’re right. That won’t work.”

  An utterly brilliant idea hit me, sprung forth like Athena from Zeus’s head. “That’s why I’m going with you. As your sidekick.”

  Chapter 7