by Ford, Lizzy
Officer Ford removed his cell from his pocket and stepped out of the restroom. Kimber gathered his workout clothing and followed.
Igor was talking to Reader and her henchmen. Kimber’s gaze settled on the supervillainess. He wanted to believe she wouldn’t resort to the methods her father performed routinely. The truth was, Kimber didn’t know what she was capable of. His heart was caught between a supervillainess and his conscience. He knew where she stood, and where he stood, and he desperately wanted to work out a gray area in between where they could co-exist without one of them ending up dead.
If it can work anywhere, it’ll work in Sand City, he thought.
He strode towards the group awaiting him. “I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s stop General Savage.”
“Tonight’s operation is going to be tricky,” Keladry told him. “You’ll need to restrain your power as much as possible, so we can grab him alive. Our window is extremely narrow.”
“Whatever it takes. I can do it,” Kimber replied. “I’m ready.”
Igor smiled. Keladry had donned her mask and wore her poker face. Officer Ford’s jaw was clenched hard, and his gaze was on Keladry.
I won’t let any of them down, Kimber swore silently.
Eleven: A superhero’s weakness is his heart
Four hours later, Kimber stood beside the burning car, at a loss as to what to do. The scents of melting metal and human flesh on fire made him cover his mouth, and he reviewed the failed operation in his mind. He’d meant to stop the convoy so Keladry’s ninjas could disarm the six-man escort around their target. The element of surprise was lost. Kimber confronted one of the thugs, who was armed with an RPG launcher. One thing had led to another. He threw the man with the launcher, realized what he’d done and made a dive for the weapon as the unconscious man holding it sagged. The weapon discharged and suddenly, three cars were exploding.
I wish I had my father’s super speed, Kimber thought.
“That’s what I meant by hair trigger, disarming them first, and not doing anything too rash,” Keladry said through his earpiece. “And why you need to learn to control your strength before we face my father.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Kimber said, frustrated by his strength once more. Two guards had gotten away while the rest burned alongside the man they escorted. “I didn’t do this. I guess when I threw him, he squeezed the trigger or …” He frowned, uncertain he was prepared to handle the thought of killing four men, even if they were villains and it was an accident. He’d lost patients in the ER before. This felt sort of like that. He’d had the ability to make a difference, tried his damnedest and was forced to admit it just wasn’t in the cards.
“Don’t beat yourself up about this one, Doc,” Officer Ford said. “This man slaughtered everyone at a police picnic three years ago, down to the newborn babies. If I had it to do over, I’d just ask you to make his death slower.”
“He was my father’s lead executioner,” Keladry confirmed.
That doesn’t make killing him a form of justice, Kimber argued silently. But, it did help him not feel quite so bad about the accident. He’d had a hard enough time defending the protection of Keladry’s life to her father, and he loved the woman.
“Time for plan b,” Keladry said.
“Which is?” he asked.
“The hard way. We put together a plan to take out my father without the insider knowledge.”
Kimber glanced down and dabbed at the bullet wounds in his chest. He’d managed to heal already, though blood stained his uniform.
I need to get a job, he thought darkly, uncertain how he was going to afford a second uniform if he kept ruining his only superhero costume.
“I got a lead on a job, if you’re interested,” Officer Ford offered.
Realizing he’d spoken the thought aloud, Kimber dropped his hand and shook his head. He turned away from the mess before him. He was tired of having to rely on everyone else to help him. To feed him, clothe him, and help him along with his superpower. He needed to take control of his life again.
His gaze swept over the two-lane road running along the east side of town. While quiet at midnight, it was close to a residential area and schools.
“Officer Ford, can you have your people put up police tape so no one runs into this mess?” he asked.
“I’ll call it in now,” came the quick response.
“Come on back. We have to discuss what went wrong,” Reader instructed him.
“On my way,” Kimber replied. He turned away from the wreckage and trotted back towards the van parked behind a hill, where the others had been waiting. “Ford, what kind of job?”
“Prison doctor. It’s not glamorous, but no one will be competing for it either,” the lawman said dryly. “Would make a great cover.”
“Prisons are great for recruitment,” Reader added.
“Why does a supervillain have an army and a superhero only gets a sidekick or two?” Kimber asked.
“It evens the playing field,” she replied.
I can’t deal with nonsense tonight. “Ford, let me know who to talk to about the prison doc job,” Kimber said.
He reached Keladry’s van. The back doors swung open to reveal a sophisticated, tiny mobile command unit run by two of her ninjas.
“You didn’t suck as bad tonight,” she said and beckoned him in. “We can review the footage.”
Kimber climbed in and sank onto his knees beside her. She was rewinding the operation.
“You lost control here.” She hit pause and pointed. “And then here.” She showed him the second instance.
Kimber leaned forward, trying to recall the exact moment when he’d lashed out the first time. “It was after he shot me the third time.”
“You do tend to lose it when you’re hurt.”
“It’s instinctive. No one likes pain.”
“The difference is you won’t die. You need to get over that instinct,” she replied. “We’ll keep working on it during our sparring sessions. Maybe I’ll bring a whip with me next time.”
With their shoulders pressed together in the tight space of the van, and her scent in his nose, Kimber couldn’t help finding the image of her standing over him with a whip – preferably naked – to be far more appealing than she probably intended it to be.
“Back to the baseball field,” Keladry said, leaning away to address the driver. “I’ve gotta check with my spies before we can plan anything.”
Kimber suppressed his impatience. “Will your father be pissed about his second-in-command?”
“Absolutely!” she replied cheerfully. “He won’t suspect you, though, because I’m the one who normally blows his people and sites up.”
“You aren’t worried he’ll retaliate?”
“Oh, I know he will. I just have to keep one step ahead of him.”
Kimber studied her. “You’re either brilliant or absolutely insane,” he said.
She glanced at him. “So are you.” And she smiled – the genuine smile that contained a hint of mischief and caused her face to light up. “Look at the company you keep.”
“I won’t argue with you there,” he said with a chuckle.
“Same time tomorrow evening at the pier?”
Kimber nodded.
“We’ll keep working on your instinct.”
“I made it five minutes tonight before you provoked me!”
“You thought I’d play fair?” she challenged. She tapped the center of her chest with one finger. “Villain.” She did the same to him. “Hero.”
“Tomorrow,” he said, unable to quell the stirring of desire when they were this close.
“We’ll see.” She turned away and maneuvered through the henchmen in the van to the passenger seat up front.
Kimber watched her with a smile. He was still smiling when she dropped him off at the baseball field and half an hour after that, when he and Igor made it home. Kimber went to sleep feeling more confident despite the mishap that resulted in the torch
ing of four bad guys. With some patience and time, he’d master his superpowers and then, nothing General Savage tried would stop him.
***
The next several days passed quietly. As hard as he tried, Kimber couldn’t rein in his instinctive response to being hurt. He failed the first night after the illfated mission.
He failed the next night as well.
Then the following.
And the night after that.
Somehow, Keladry always knew just how to provoke him. He went so far as to spar with her for a full ten minutes before she triggered his reaction.
On the fifth night, he knew going in he was going to fail. He’d had no missions or calls to the superhero hotline in days and nothing but training and superhero movies to occupy him. Wired, Kimber arrived to the pier with deep-seated restlessness. As always, his eyes were glued to Keladry the moment he saw her.
She tossed him his boxing gloves, and he donned them in silence. His nervous energy caused the world around him to seem sharper this night, his senses heightened and the edge of his self-awareness alert to the point his hair stood on end.
Without speaking, he dropped into a fighting stance opposite Keladry. Within seconds, they were sparring.
Resigned to failing again this night, Kimber kept his focus in the moment this night and on her movements rather than trying to control every tiny move he made. He took each blow as it came and reacted instinctively.
Five minutes passed, then ten.
Keladry flipped a knife free and smashed the hilt into his temple.
Kimber sucked in a deep breath and went with it.
Several moves later, she flat out stabbed him in the shoulder. She paused after the blow and braced herself, expecting him to lash out. In the span of a breath, he saw his opening. Kimber snatched her arm, yanked her off balance and threw her over his hip. He drove her to the ground and then followed her down.
A flicker of awareness went through him when he realized he’d not only reacted well, but he had a chance at beating her for once.
On the ground, Kimber had an advantage. Keladry was much smaller, and he was much stronger. She twisted and writhed, lashing out at him, stabbing him again, this time in the chest.
Kimber grunted at the pain but didn’t let it distract him, not when he was so close to beating the woman who had driven him insane since he rescued her from the alley. He disarmed her – fed up with being stabbed, shot and bludgeoned by her – and ignored the blows she managed to get through his defenses. His focus was less on defending himself and more on subduing her.
It took five minutes on the ground, mainly because of her speed and flexibility, but finally, he pinned her on her belly beneath his body.
Both of them were panting. As Kimber listened to her breathing, he realized what he’d done.
“Tap out!” he ordered.
“Never!”
“I will knock you out, Keladry!”
“The hell you will.”
She was right. As usual.
He waited another ten seconds then released her. Flipping her onto her back, Kimber gazed down into her dark eyes. She had stopped fighting him and was grinning. The minute their gazes met, a new kind of fire filled him.
“I win,” he said, almost surprised.
“And here they said you couldn’t be taught.”
“What? Who said that?”
“Did you figure it out?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Figure what out?”
“All you had to do was trust yourself.”
Kimber was quiet, pensive. He’d gone into the fight with her tonight with the mindset of letting whatever happened – happen. He’d had no expectations and concentrated on what occurred each second as it passed rather than fearing a reaction he knew was coming.
Was it that easy? Had he simply needed to stop second-guessing every punch and kick he threw and trust himself to make the right call and react appropriately? Marveling at the idea that it took letting go to understand how to manage his power, he also realized he rarely ever trusted himself to act, even when he’d been a doctor.
Keladry took his cheeks in her hands, returning him to the moment, and pulled his face down to hers. She kissed him, long and deep, and Kimber’s body relaxed. Keladry pushed him off her and onto his back. She straddled him, her mouth on his.
Kimber’s palms skated down her back and sides to grip her perfect, perky ass. It dawned on him he hadn’t just won her game – he’d won another night with her.
“Come on!” Keladry tore her mouth from his and bolted to her feet fast enough to leave him dazed. She grabbed his hand and pulled him up.
Kimber let her drag him towards a houseboat floating peacefully at one side of the pier. Keladry leapt from the dock onto the boat, and he followed. He swept her up into his arms. Their bodies pressed together, they half-stumbled, half-staggered inside the houseboat and toppled into bed together.
“This is … your … boat, right?” he asked, leaning back to whip off his shirt.
“No.”
Kimber froze.
Keladry laughed. She bounced to her feet and wriggled out of her villain uniform. The minute she peeled off her clothing, Kimber forgot what it was he asked. They tumbled into bed together. Soon, he began to believe the long wait to be here with her, naked, was well worth it.
***
He awoke when someone jabbed him in the ribs.
Kimber blinked sleepily. A cool, morning breeze made him shiver. The houseboat’s gentle rocking reminded him of where he was and what had happened last night. He reached out to the place in the bed beside him automatically, only to find Keladry gone.
“Who the fuck are you?”
The man’s gruff voice jarred Kimber. He sat up and stared at the elderly man holding a shotgun. Heat warmed Kimber’s face, and he snatched at a sheet, hauling it over his lower half to cover his naked body.
“I am so sorry,” he managed and rolled out of bed. Gripping the sheet with one hand, he blindly snatched at his clothing as he simultaneously made a beeline towards the door. He managed to snag his sweatpants before the elderly houseboat owner jabbed him again with the muzzle of his shotgun.
“Stupid kids these days! You have no respect for someone else’s property!” the man shouted at him.
Mumbling embarrassed excuses and apologies all the way out of the houseboat, and to the dock, Kimber dropped the sheet and tugged on his pants before hurrying up the stairs to the pier. The houseboat’s owner shouted at him all the way.
Kimber didn’t slow down until he reached the sidewalk. He sucked in a deep breath, shook his head and then stopped to look around. It was midmorning and raining. He stood, bare chested and shoeless, without a cell phone or his earpiece to call for a ride.
He’d have to walk or corner some random passerby and ask to use their cell phone.
“Damn you, Keladry,” he muttered, acutely aware of how the supervillainess had left him to be discovered by the owner of the houseboat. Even when he won against her fair and square, he still managed to lose.
But I did win, he thought with no small amount of vindication. He’d beaten her in hand-to-hand combat, without losing control, and spent an acrobatic night fucking her. Kimber’s humiliation and anger faded. He instinctively sniffed his skin. A shiver of erotic delight went through him at the smell of Keladry that lingered everywhere.
If waking up on a stranger’s boat was the penalty for making love to the woman who stole his heart, he’d pay it every day of the week.
His outlook improved, Kimber began walking.
Twenty minutes later, a passing police car noticed him and stopped. Kimber politely requested to speak to Officer Ford, and an hour later, he was walking through the front door of the townhouse.
“Everything okay?” Igor asked, emerging from the kitchen.
“Yeah. Gotta change and go to training.”
“I’ll make you a to-go breakfast.”
Kimber raced upstairs,
a newfound energy inside him. He’d managed to best a supervillainess, and this left his confidence at an all time high. He pulled on exercise clothing and went to the kitchen to grab his packed breakfast.
“Reader says we’re meeting tonight to discuss an operation against her father,” Igor told him. “We’re ready to go to stage two.”
Was it possible Keladry wasn’t the only person who had been waiting for him to grow comfortable with his superpower? Had he been holding up the entire mission? Unwilling to allow doubt to creep in, when he’d proven to himself last night he could control his strength, Kimber paused.
“I feel ready, Igor,” he said. “For real this time.”
“Reader said the same thing,” Igor replied with a faint smile. “I knew this day would come.”
“Thank you for believing in me,” Kimber murmured. “And for breakfast. I’ll have a job soon, so I can contribute.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Flashing a smile at him, Kimber hurried back out to the waiting police car. He climbed into the passenger seat and wolfed down his breakfast as Officer Ford drove.
“I heard they’re going to call you about the job,” Officer Ford said.
“Thank god! I’m so through with bumming rides off people like I’m fifteen,” Kimber exclaimed.
“I’m bringing three of my buddies to the meeting tonight.”
“Good. We’re going to do this, Ford.”
“I agree.”
Kimber’s upbeat mood lasted throughout his morning training session, a phone call from the police’s human resources department to set up an interview, and another marathon of superhero movies. This time, instead of watching and wishing he had something to do, he paid more attention to what was happening in the movies Igor had selected for the day.
“So far, I seem to fit the superhero arc,” Kimber said. “Newfound abilities or responsibilities, huge villain in the way who threatens everyone I care about, abject failure at my duties, and finally, I’m starting to figure things out.”
“Yes, you do,” Igor said. “I’ve been working on this.” He flipped a page in his notebook and handed it to Kimber. “You need a catchphrase.”
“I’m the Doctor, and I’m here to heal this city,” Kimber read the words aloud. “Igor, this is perfect.”