He glanced down at the stabilizer on his wrist, wondering if it was working like Multi had said it was supposed to. The bracelet felt heavy around his wrist and cold to the touch. It didn’t make any noise, or light up, or give any sign of serving its function.
Weird. Though, maybe it is working, and my powers still just aren’t strong enough.
He decided to try something else. Breaking into a light jog, he ran toward the warehouse, pulling the wind with him on his approach. He leapt up as he came within reach and planted a foot solidly on the building’s graffiti covered concrete wall, trying to kick off and up.
With the wind at his back, he stayed close enough to the wall of the building to kick out with his other leg and start the process over. It was like something out of a video game, wall climbing by kicking continuously. The wind pushed him up and kept him in position, and his legs did the rest.
It was the next best thing to flying, and it only took him a couple of seconds to reach the top and pull himself onto the building. Malcolm let out a satisfied sigh and sat down, taking a minute to recover. His body was tingling, and though the feeling wasn’t unpleasant, it made it a little hard for him to think straight.
A noise came from the abandoned warehouse across from the one he was on. Malcolm stood up slowly, frowning and glancing around, hoping that he wasn’t about to get ambushed by the police or a busybody night security guard. The sound was coming from within the other warehouse, and after a moment’s consideration, he leapt the distance between the two buildings with the assistance of the wind.
Part of the building’s roof had crumbled over the years, and Malcolm could look down on the scene below. Four men had a woman cornered, shining bright flashlights in her face.
For a moment, his mind jumped back to night security, or the police. Then, he listened to what they were saying.
“Nobody would ever know,” said a gruff voice. “We could all have our fun tonight. There’s nobody here but us!”
“I’m with John,” said another voice. “It took us forever to get her in here. Might as well get our rocks off. She’s pretty fucking hot, all things considered.”
Malcolm sighed.
Looks like I’ll be playing crime stopper tonight, after all.
CHAPTER 9
Malcolm took a step into open air, summoning the wind as he fell through the hole in the building’s roof toward the ground. He landed not far from the men, dropping to one knee in the classic superhero style.
The men’s conversation immediately ceased. Two of them turned to face him, the other two keeping their flashlights on the woman. She was curled up in a ball, with the hood of her sweater pulled up over her head.
“Gentleman,” said Malcolm. “You should leave that woman alone.”
“Who the hell are you to be telling us-”
Malcolm pushed his hand forward, summoning as much of the wind as he could and slamming it in the direction of the voice. He saw the man fly off his feet as though he’d slipped on ice. His flashlight flew up into the air, and his head struck the concrete hard.
“That’s a concussion,” said Malcolm. “They’re super bad for you, from what I hear.”
He used a small trail of wind to catch the man’s flashlight, swirling it through the air for a second before striking another man across the face with it. He went down, and Malcolm couldn’t help but smile.
That’s two knockouts in two seconds. At this rate…
He was still smiling when a shoulder thudded into him from behind, catching him completely off guard and knocking him to the ground. The time in between the attack and when he hit was too short for him to cushion his fall with the wind, and all the breath was forced out of his lungs as he landed.
The fifth man who’d surprised him was smart. He followed the attack up with a hard kick to Malcolm’s ribs. The pain was intense, and it kept Malcolm from being able to focus enough to reach for his powers and counterattack.
“Get the girl,” said the fifth man. “And get the others moving. I’ll deal with this fucker.”
“Brett, hold on a sec,” said another man. “He’s the dude from the news! Wind Runner!”
The fifth man hesitated instead of pressing on the attack. It was a mistake. Malcolm had time to take a breath and get a sense of the situation. One of them was dragging the girl out of the building. She was by the door they’d come in through.
Malcolm pushed the man standing over him back with the wind, and then pulled a massive gust down against the hole in the roof he’d fallen in through. Dust and rocks cascaded into the room, obscuring everyone’s vision and striking at least one of the thugs with something painful enough to elicit a grunt of pain.
Malcolm charged toward the girl with the wind at his back. The man dragging her out of the warehouse didn’t see him coming. A quick push was all it took, and then he had the girl in his arms as he took off running across the concrete lot outside.
He made it around the corner of another building and hesitated, wondering if it was alright to leave the men able bodied.
They were talking about rape. But it’s not like I can just murder them in cold blood?
He had a conscience, and on top of that, he wasn’t sure if it would have even been something he could have accomplished with just the wind. If he’d had a knife, or something else dangerous to fling at them, sure. Otherwise, it would still be five against one.
Malcolm listened for a minute, expecting the men to press after him in their search. He was a little surprised when they didn’t. They kept their flashlights on, and he was able to track them as they left the industrial park and headed back in the direction of town.
“Well that’s convenient…” he muttered. He was still holding the girl, and gently carried her into the light of one of the few working lampposts nearby.
She was wearing an oversized black hoodie. Malcolm gently pulled the hood back and froze at what he saw. Her skin had a distinct, purple hue to it. He glanced up, as though there was a chance that it was just being caused by the effect of the streetlight or the ambient light of the sky above, but it was undeniable.
She’s a spryte. She’s not human.
Malcolm had no idea what to do. She was unconscious, but clearly still alive. And the fact that he still held her in his arms meant that she was now his problem.
He briefly considered trying to get in touch with Tapestry, or one of the other champions at the dome. None of them had given him their contact information, however, and it wasn’t as though he had any means of getting back out to headquarters on his own.
Leaving her where he’d found her also wasn’t an option. The men could come back and finish what they’d originally planned. Or, more probably, the spryte could regain consciousness and attack a person, or break into a house.
Malcolm did the only thing that made any sense. Using the wind to buoy his load, he started walking back to his apartment.
It took him longer than it had on the way out, and his arms were tired by the end of it. There weren’t many pedestrians out on the street, which was a small miracle. He set her down to unlock his door once he was in the hallway, and then carefully carried her inside.
Malcolm set her down on the couch and considered everything he knew about sprytes and demons. He’d read every article he could find relating to them shortly after the start of the Phenomenon and his family’s deaths. He’d read stories about fire demons torching entire towns to the ground, and water sprytes sinking ships.
I don’t even know what this spryte’s powers are…
The spryte on his couch made a small noise and blinked her eyes open. Malcolm stiffened, readying himself to fight, if it came to it. The spryte looked up at him, her eyes dark, but strangely expressive.
“Uh… hi,” he said.
The spryte slowly stood up from the couch. She reached down to the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it up and over her head. She was wearing a black t-shirt and yoga pants underneath, clothes tight enough to show off
an incredible body.
Malcolm tried his best not to notice, given how little bearing it had on the situation, but it was hard. Her body bordered on being voluptuous, with large, full breasts, a trim waist, and an eye-catching butt.
She was on the tall side, only an inch or two shorter than he was, and her hair was black and glossy. She wore it loose across her shoulders, and it made her seem like she’d just woken up from a deep sleep.
She stared at him with those dark eyes, holding his gaze and making the room come alive with tension. Her lips were pouty and luscious, and the color of the ocean at night. She pulled them up into a slight, suggestive smile, and then turned away from him.
“Hey, hold on a second,” said Malcolm. “I have some questions for you.”
The spryte walked around the couch and further into his apartment. Malcolm scowled and followed after her.
“What were you doing before those men captured you?” he asked. “And why are you in Vanderbrook? Are you planning on attacking the city?”
The spryte walked into his room. It was dark, illuminated only by a small strip of ambient light sneaking in through the curtains of his window. It was enough for him to see her pulling her t-shirt off, and letting it fall to the ground. She turned so that she was standing sideways, and Malcolm could see the illicit bump of the tip of her nipple in her silhouette.
“What… are you doing?” He shook his head, following after her. The spryte was taking off her pants now, bending over to slide them down with the same motions as any human woman.
Malcolm reached for the light switch. He flicked it up, and for the briefest instant, saw her naked from behind. She was gorgeous, a combination of breath taking curves, breasts, and butt. The light was on, and she glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes set into a scowl.
The shadows moved. Malcolm watched in disbelief as tendrils of darkness slipped out from under his bed, behind his door, and outside the window. They took him by his ankles and wrists, pulling his limbs out and holding him like ropes. He stared at the naked spryte in disbelief, struggling against his bonds as fear took hold.
CHAPTER 10
Malcolm mastered his emotions as he stared at the spryte. He wasn’t helpless. He could fight back, even without being able to move.
Clenching his fist, he summoned the wind and slammed the nearest object he could quickly sweep into motion into the spryte’s head. He only realized that the object in question was a harmless pillow after it had already hit her. The force of the gust behind it counted for something, but all it managed to do was distract her for a split second.
The distraction loosened Malcolm’s shadow bonds, and he managed to slip out of them. The spryte was already focusing her attention back on him and summoning more tendrils of darkness. He leapt forward, tackling her. The two of them fell onto his bed in a tangled heap.
She’s still very, very naked…
It was hard for Malcolm to make good use of his powers with their bodies in such close contact. He was on top of her, one of his legs pressed between her thighs. He tried to direct a gust of wind at her face. Her hair blew back, and her breasts jiggled for a brief, magical moment, and nothing else was really accomplished.
Malcolm struggled against her, pinning her arms and pressing his chest down on top of her. He felt the shadow tendrils reaching for him again, but they weren’t trying to restrain, this time. They were scratching at him, or rather, at his clothes.
What the hell…?
He hesitated for an instant, and the spryte’s lips were suddenly against his. They felt hot, and Malcolm kissed her back without even thinking. The shadows were pulling at his shirt, cutting through it in places, and doing the same with his sweatpants. In less than ten seconds, he was just as naked as she was, his clothes lying on the ground in a useless, shredded pile.
He pulled back from the kiss. He still had her hands pinned behind her head, and was about to try another attack with a gust of wind when the spryte began to move. She didn’t struggle against his hold on her. She moved her hips, grinding her naked crotch against his equally naked crotch.
“What… are you doing?” he muttered.
She kissed him again, pushing her tongue into his mouth. Malcolm felt himself getting hard. He hesitated for a moment, and then let go of her hands, tensing up in case she decided to attack him again.
She didn’t attack him. She reached down and took hold of his shaft, slowly stroking it with her soft, gentle fingers. She was smiling at him, and her dark eyes had a hungry, eager look in them.
This is such a bad idea…
Malcolm started to pull back from her, aware of how vulnerable he was, naked and distracted by the spryte’s sexuality. In a flash, the shadow tendrils were back, holding him by the wrists. He stared at her with wide eyes as they pulled him up into the air, holding him upright over his bed.
The spryte was still smiling. She rose to her knees and planted a kiss on his stomach, and then several more along his waist. Malcolm stared down at her in disbelief as her hands moved back to his shaft. He felt incredible, the sensation amplified by the clear danger of the situation.
The spryte looked up at him and met his gaze, holding his erection an inch or so away from her lips. An understanding passed between them without anything needing to be said. She leaned forward, extended her tongue, and gave the tip of Malcolm’s tool a slow, gentle lick.
The shadow tendrils dissipated, and Malcolm was on top of her again in an instant. He couldn’t take it anymore. Regardless of whether it was a trick or not, he had to have her.
He pinned her arms again, this time less out of suspicion and more out of a masculine need to dominate. He pushed the tip of his erection in between her legs, finding her entrance. She was tight and hot, and let out a slow breath as he pushed the first inch or so of his length inside.
Malcolm started thrusting into her as though in a race against time. The spryte’s legs wrapped around him, holding him close with surprising strength. He kissed her, and then shook her legs loose, not wanting to give her any physical avenue to take control back.
She was silent as he pressed into her, but her breathing and facial expression exposed her inner pleasure. Malcolm groped at her breasts, perfect, firm, and dotted with weirdly sexy purple nipples. He let one of his hands run across the smooth skin of her butt and hook behind her leg, pulling her hips up to meet each of his hard, downward movements.
Malcolm pumped into her with all the strength he had, intoxicated by lust, entranced by her body. They were both sweaty, and the bed groaned and creaked underneath them. The spryte was shivering, and she tensed up suddenly, letting out a tiny, audible gasp, the first vocalization he’d heard from her.
Malcolm kept going, kissing her and losing himself to his horniness. He pushed in as deep as he could go, feeling the squeeze of her tight, hot hole. He ground his crotch into hers, and then thrust hard, finding his release.
He didn’t stop to think about whether it would be a good idea to pull out as the pleasure hit him. Malcolm unloaded his seed into the spryte, hot and sticky and careless. He groaned, exhausted by his orgasm, and only then began to think about what the hell he was going to do next.
The spryte seemed to be having similar thoughts. She gently pushed him off her and slid toward the edge of the bed. Tendrils of darkness were moving again. Malcolm reached for the wind, ready to counterattack.
Instead, the spryte pulled her clothes back over to her, slipping on her shirt and stepping into her yoga pants. She pulled her hair loose from the shirt’s collar, crossed her arms over her chest, and then turned around to face him.
“Thank you,” she said. “Phew. That certainly did the trick.”
Her voice was soft and seductive, and shockingly, very humanlike. Malcolm had always assumed that sprytes and demons would sound demonic in some way. She just sounded like any other girl.
“Uh…” He frowned, trying to think of what to say. “You’re… welcome?”
You’
re welcome. Smooth, Malcolm. Real smooth.
The spryte stood where she was, watching him carefully. Malcolm was still naked, and he pulled a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser, feeling an awkward tension settle over the room.
“So…?” asked the spryte.
Malcolm shook his head.
“So… what?” he asked.
“So, are you going to try to kill me?” asked the spryte. “You’re a champion, aren’t you?”
CHAPTER 11
Malcolm stood up, too stunned to know how to respond. He shook his head no, and then frowned, feeling like an idiot for the way the situation had played out.
“You’re a spryte…” he said. “But you’re not attacking me. Or, I mean, you were… but you stopped. I don’t understand…”
The spryte shrugged.
“I’m not sure how much I can enlighten you,” she said. “My memory is hazy. Each time I lose myself and come back, it takes a while for the amnesia to wear off.”
“Amnesia…?” Malcolm frowned at her. “So sprytes and demons… don’t have memories?”
“I remember a few things,” said the spryte. “Not much.”
“Your name?”
The spryte frowned.
“It was Rose, I think,” she said. “Black Rose. Though I’m not sure if that was my actual name, or just my champion name, or what.”
Malcolm nodded, and then froze, realizing the implications of what she’d just said.
“Your… champion name?” he asked. “You were a champion? Before you became a spryte?”
“Of course,” said Rose. “All sprytes and demons were once champions, or at least gifted. It’s using your powers, overusing them to be precise, that turns you into one.”
The surprise must have shown through on his face. Rose smiled and licked her lips, clearly amused.
Wind Runner: The Complete Collection Page 5