by Angel Lawson
“We’ll blow up,” Quinn says. “We get it.”
“As a back-up, if you don’t follow directions and manage some sort of escape, then Rex blows up and I’ll hunt you down and you’ll really see what a prick I am.”
His words are chilling. Truthful. Not just a threat. And he smiles when they nod that they understand. “As promised, you get five minutes with your boy-toys. Don’t make me regret it.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Astrid
The twins of pain and destruction, Rowe and Rex, leave the room. The clock is ticking and she feels the heightening excitement of the crowd above deep in her chest.
There’s no time to waste.
“This sucks,” she says, reaching for one of them—all of them. Quinn takes one hand. Owen takes the other and Draco stands quietly behind, gray eyes boring into hers.
“We’re not dying today,” Quinn says, looping his arm around her waist.
“No, but the life we’re going to have? I don’t want that.”
None of them do but they’re trapped, collared, literally by a ticking bomb. There’s no option but to comply.
“Well if this is our last few minutes together, on our terms, I know how I want to spend it,” Owen says, yanking her toward him. Quinn lets her go and she falls into Owen’s strong, lean arms. He doesn’t hesitate, when does he? His mouth crashes against hers. His lips move slowly, forcefully like he knows he may never get the chance again, and when her knees start to buckle he pulls back, breathless. “Thank you for everything, Astrid. You changed my life.”
Her hands shake at his words, at the daring expression on his face, but there’s little time to think because Quinn’s hands run down her arms and he pulls Astrid into his chest. She instantly feels safe against his body, protected, and he pushes a strand of hair over her ear. Leaning his forehead to hers, he says, “Be safe, Astrid Petta, do Atticus proud,” before kissing her nose, her cheeks, and one long, sensual, overwhelming kiss on the lips.
She steps away and her lovers give her a respectful distance. Now it’s just her and Draco. Tension ebbs between them. She searches his emotions but gets nothing but strength and focus and the desire to survive.
It’s not the time to push him, she thinks, knowing his shield will be up. But it’s too late anyway and the clock runs out. The door opens with a loud creak and it’s time to face their fate. Draco grabs her as the others move away. His grip is tight and his mouth is close to hers.
“If we get out of this, I’m not wasting my chance again, got it?”
She nods, cheeks flaming. “Got it.”
He walks away and she feels his intent in her soul. Astrid swallows and touches the bomb on her neck.
Damn, if she didn’t have a reason before, she does now. They’ll have to figure out a way to survive this night.
*
Rowe and Rex are gone when they exit the room. There’s nothing but a long ramp and when they get to the top, they’re in a swarm of people dressed in Crescent City red and gold or Glory City’s black and silver.
“Good luck,” she tells them. “See you on the field.”
They push through the crowd, searching for the field. Well, everyone but Astrid. She darts into a thick group outside a stall selling beer. A loud roar races through the stadium, so thunderous she has to plant her feet from the wave of energy. It’s so intense it’s like fighting through an emotional tsunami.
Spotting a small alcove, she dips in and presses her com.
“Casper,” she says, “I need you.”
She waits. No reply.
“Cas, seriously dude, where the fuck are you?”
Static buzzes in her ear and almost cries when his voice comes across, “I-I-I’m here.”
“Casper, thank god. We’re in a shit-storm.” She explains Rowe and the bombs and the parameters of their task.
“I’m w-w-with Jensen. Here. And I-I-I heard Rowe.”
She leans against the wall, trying to calm her heart and mind. She’s overwhelmed, scared, and has no idea what to do. This is what she tells Casper.
“Don’t w-w-w-worry, babe,” he says, and she almost laughs. Even now, he’s ridiculous. “I’ve g-g-got this.”
And he tells her his plan.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Quinn
Fuck.
He felt it the moment she slipped away. Owen too, because the blond frowns and shakes his head.
Draco is also long gone.
“So that agreement thing…bullshit, huh?” he asks, feeling conspicuous in his costume. At least his matches the team colors.
Owen throws up a shield, giving them a moment of privacy. He tugs at his collar with his free hand. “What are we going to do?”
“Fight back?” he has no idea how. The odds are too high. There’s too many people to clear the stadium. Too much of a risk to aggravate Rowe.
His com squawks before Owen can reply.
“Ch-ch-charger?”
“Casper?” He mutters a prayer of thanks.
“Yeah, I n-n-need you to do something.”
“Anything, dude. We’re screwed.”
“L-l-look at this.” A blueprint pops up on the mask screen.
“Is that the collar?” Owen asks. He can see it too.
“I th-th-think I can shut down the bomb, but w-w-with your help.”
“Whatever you need. I’m ready,” Quinn replies.
“We both are,” Owen agrees.
“O-o-okay. I need you both on the upper level. Box l-l-level.”
“Can we get in?” Quinn asks.
Owen smiles. “I can get us in. Which box do we need to go to?”
“O-o-owners.”
They nod and Casper blinks out.
Over the seating entrance hangs a timer counting down the clock. They’ve got twenty minutes. “We better run.”
“Good thing I’ve been working out,” Owen says, dropping the shield.
Quinn laughs, feeling the bomb tighten around his throat. This may not work but at least they’re still fighting. “Winner gets to kiss Astrid first,” he says, dashing toward the stairs.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Astrid
The black uniformed Task Force members stand between Astrid and the owner’s box.
“Hello, boys,” she says, rounding the corner. Guns raise, but she’s been training her whole life for this moment. She’ll take them. Take them all. “I’d think first before shooting.” She touches the bomb. “One false move…”
The guns vanish and all four men attack. Astrid takes them head on, relying heavily on the tools in her belt. She darts and weaves, punches and kicks. She throws three pebbles down the hallway, each exploding into heavy puffs of smoke. The distraction helps her get ahead and she tosses the weighted cable attached to her hip, binding two together. Two more come after her and she hears a loud zap behind her. Turning, she finds Quinn holding his electrified baton in his hands. He hits both soldiers in the chest, dropping them fast.
“Where were you five minutes ago,” she asks, wiping her forehead.
“You bolted. Not my fault.”
“Casper sent you up here?” she asks, glancing at Owen.
“Yeah.”
“Me too.”
Quinn stops and holds his hands up.
“What?”
“I feel it. The electrical system—generators—or something. Right on this hall.” He moves away from the others.
“Where are you going?”
“To do what I do best.”
She and Owen watch him disappear behind a black door.
“Ready to go in?” she asks, feeling completely lost. There’s no way this will work. She barges into the owner’s box without knocking and finds herself in a room full of people decked out in Crescent City colors. They’re oddly quiet.
Out the window, the massive clock ticks down rapidly, eight minutes.
She recognizes a man by the window and says, “Mr. Mayor—” but he turns and wh
at she sees startles her.
He’s wearing a bomb too.
“Why are you here?” he cries, and she slowly realizes that the whole place is filled with people wearing bombs. “You’re supposed to be on the field. He said he wouldn’t kill us if you were on the field. Why aren’t you on the field?!”
“What the hell?” Owen mutters, but Astrid has no idea. None. What is Rowe doing?
The lights flicker, browning before going out for good. Emergency lights blink on, including the giant scoreboard, still ticking down the time, five minutes... Hysteria rises in the stadium, the players stop mid-game and a voice, a familiar, douche-y voice comes across the sound system. Rowe.
“People of Crescent City, remain calm. Stay in your seats. The game will resume soon.”
“Casper?” Astrid calls into her com. “What’s happening here.”
“Three m-m-m-minutes, babe.”
But she doesn’t think they have three minutes, and Quinn races back in the room. “He says three minutes?” she says to him, all too aware of the scoreboard clock. “Why?”
“Do you trust him?” He reaches for her and touches the collar on her neck. She nods. “Hold my hand,” he offers one to Owen too.” He glances at the mayor and the others. “If you’ve got one of these around your necks, take a hand and don’t let go.”
Down on the field, there’s movement caught in the glaring emergency lights. The players have moved off the pitch and one man moves to the center ring: Rex. He holds up his hand. The detonator.
A flash comes from the sidelines and Draco, hulking and determined, charges Rex. The two fall and Rex may be invincible but Draco punches like a freight train, taking out the man and snatching the detonator out of his hands.
The clock ticks down: ten seconds, nine, eight, seven… Owen squeezes one hand and Quinn has the other. Owen’s eyes are closed tight and he mumbles under his breath. Praying? Cursing? She wants to kiss his mouth and make it all go away.
Five, four, three…
On the field, Draco yanks off his collar and throws as hard as he can in the air and presses the button.
A blast rolls over all of them and she waits for the end, but there’s just the heat coming off Quinn and the strength of his shield. The bombs on their necks flicker hot and then fizzle, lifeless and deactivated. The one in the air explodes but is small and uneventful.
When it’s clear they’re safe and that it’s over, Quinn lowers releases her hand and kisses her hard on the lips. “Let me get the lights back on,” he says, leaving her bewildered.
Mayor Steel touches his throat and Owen walks over, using his increased strength to pull the dead device off his neck.
“Thank you,” the mayor says, through noticeable guilt. He should be. He was willing to let a terrorist kill them.
Feedback screeches over the sound system.
“Sorry for the in-in-in-interruption, soccer fans! Hope y-y-you enjoyed the half-time show. Just a l-l-little reenactment of how super the Supers of Crescent City really are.”
The crowd cheers at the shout-out, giving Astrid the warm fuzzies. That and the fact Casper is speaking. In public. Shit is getting real.
*
They leave the way they normally do, out the back door with no fanfare. The city, other than the mayor, has no idea how bad tonight could have been without Casper’s and Quinn’s abilities to hack the hell of out of a computer and electrical system.
Jensen meets them outside in the parking lot, using his police light as a cover.
“Good work tonight,” he tells them, looking exhausted and worn out. “Unfortunately, Rowe got away.”
“And Rex,” Draco adds. He’s got a wicked bruise under his eye.
“Of course he did,” Owen mutters, running his hand through his hair.
“We’ll find him,” Jensen says, glancing at Astrid. “If we work together.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. She eyes each of her men, letting her eyes linger on Casper. “We’re stronger together. Look at what we did tonight.”
The Goblin drops his eyes to the pavement. She knows it’s too soon to push him too hard. But they’ll get through this. She knows it. For now, she’ll give him space.
“So, what’s next?” Quinn asks Jensen.
“Finding out who Rowe’s boss really is,” he says.
“Rex gave us some details,” Astrid says. “We may be able to use some of it.”
“T-t-tomorrow,” Casper says. “I-I-I’ve used up my daylight hours.”
Draco claps him on the back. “Let’s get you home.”
Quinn steps next to her as they watch the two men walk across the parking lot. “You made some progress, with both of them.”
“I think so.”
“They make us stronger. It’s worth it.”
She smiles. “Yeah, I think so too.”
The crowd starts to leave the stadium and people trickle into the parking lot. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I’m ready,” she says, taking his hand and then Owen’s in the other. It was a long night. A trying night, and she never wants to do anything like that again. But with these guys? She’ll fight anyone—any time. Rowe’s day is coming, and she’ll be the one to bring him to justice.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Astrid
She’s leaning over the balcony rail when the door opens and closes behind her. She hasn’t been able to sleep; too many thoughts occupying her mind about the past few days. Her body aches from the fight earlier, the punch she took from Rowe and the bruise around her throat.
The man behind her has an overwhelming presence. Powerful, and he told her he wouldn’t waste it if he had another chance. Is that why Draco’s here?
Cautious want flickers in her belly. What if he changed his mind?
He silently stands behind her for so long that she finally breaks the quiet and asks, “Second thoughts?”
“No.” His fingers graze her neck and she shivers. “Just taking you in.”
Astrid glances over her shoulder and takes him in. The broad chest, the sharp jaw, the hot desire in his eyes. She starts to turn but he moves quickly, pressing his body against her back. It’s sweet. Intimate. And she allows herself to lean into him.
He lifts her hair and kisses her neck, her ear, down the line of her jaw. It feels amazing—he feels amazing, and the stress and drama from the day dissipates with each and every touch.
She feels the strain in his pants, the hard heat growing between them. Arching her back, she rubs against him, loving that she excites him—because damn, the man is hard to read, but this? Crystal clear.
“I’m glad you came,” she says, turning to face him. She places her hands on his chest. “I was worried you couldn’t accept this—us.”
His lips curve into a smile. “I won’t lie—it’s a little weird for me. I’ve never been with a woman like you, and I’ve certainly never been part of a team like this. But I get it. I got it today when Rowe clamped that collar around your neck. When he clamped it around all of your necks, I knew I would lose something huge.” He brushes his nose across hers. “I don’t want to lose you or this team.”
“I don’t want to lose you either. And we can take it slow. On your terms. I know it’s a big change for you.”
He kisses her then, deep and passionately. His tongue slips in her mouth and she feels it down in her toes. Draco is pure, intense, and completely true. He’s genuine. If he wants her, he wants her. If he’s in, he’s in. She has no doubt about that.
Above the lights of the city, he shows her his commitment one kiss at a time and she proves to him she has what it takes to be with a man like him—as well as the others. They beat the clock once today. No one’s going to rush them now.
*
They stay up ‘til dawn, snuggled up from the wind, leaning against the glass door. The sunset crests over the Swamp, casting it in a shimmery glow. They talked all night, getting to know one another. And they kissed. Lord, they kissed.
<
br /> Their bliss is interrupted by the grumbling growl of Astrid’s stomach. She clamps a hand over it and laughs. “I need waffles. So bad.”
They enter the dormitory holding hands. Harry greets them at the door and she scoops him up. He crawls up her shoulder to get a sniff of the man behind her. The cat doesn’t seem impressed but he also doesn’t hiss at Draco, so maybe it’s a pass.
Astrid hears the guys in the kitchen and heads that way. Draco pulls her to a stop before they leave the hallway. “You sure they’re okay with this?”
She laughs and shakes her head. This one. So big. So strong. So oddly insecure.
“Dude,” she hears Quinn say, “did you touch my kefir?”
“What the hell is a kefir?”
“It’s like milk but made out of grain enzymes,” Quinn explains. “It’s really good for gut health.”
“Grain enzymes? Are you fucking with me?”
“No. It kind of looks like yogurt. I had a bottle from the health food store in the refrigerator door and now it’s gone.”
From their hiding spot around the corner, Astrid rolls her eyes and stifles a laugh. Draco just looks amused.
“Oh that? Yeah, I thought that was spoiled milk. I threw it out.”
“You did what! That cost twelve dollars!”
“No. It was rotten milk. Even Harry wouldn’t eat that garbage.”
Harry perks up when Owen says his name and he jumps from her arms, running to his friend. The two men in the kitchen look up and take in Astrid and Draco.
“Hi,” Quinn says. “We were wondering where you were.”
“Just up on the balcony.” She squeezes Draco’s hand. Quinn nods his approval and turns back to the refrigerator. “Draco said he’d make some waffles.”