by Vivi Andrews
She was a favor owed now. Nothing more. He needed to remember that.
“Stay out of trouble, okay?” His fingers itched to tuck a blonde curl behind her ear, but she looked like if he put his hand anywhere near her face she’d happily bite it off. “And stay away from Vic Peccorino.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” The door opened, seemingly of its own volition, but he knew her TK was responsible. “See you in another five years.”
He growled—actually growled like an animal before he caught himself and hauled his wayward emotions back under control. Only Kim ever made him lose his cool. So it was best for everyone concerned if he didn’t see her. Frost needed to be the iceman. He needed his chilled reserve to do his job effectively and Kim could burn it away with a single look. His personal kryptonite. And his only temptation.
He walked through the open door and didn’t look back until he heard it lock behind him.
Kim Carruthers. Damn. She was so different and yet it seemed she hadn’t changed a bit. The only woman who’d ever turned his heart into a searing flame. Nothing but trouble.
****
Kim hugged her arms to her chest, reminding herself to breathe normally.
Frost Nightwing had been here. Here. In her apartment. He should have left the room cold—his demeanor had certainly been cold enough to frost her carpet—but she felt impossibly hot. Stupidly feverish.
When he’d made his fingers like ice… Holy Moses, she’d almost forgotten how erotic that was, like ice cubes trailing over lust-heated flesh. The alternating hot and cold of his warm mouth and frost-kissed breath moving over her skin…
She shivered, sliding down the wall to puddle on the floor beside the door.
Frost Nightwing. Still as sexy as ever. Still as coolly distant as an avenging angel, watching the world from his moral high ground. But he’d never been inhuman with her. Not until the day he walked away without a backward glance.
She gritted her teeth. Pull it together, Kim. So what if she’d seen Frost? Big deal. Tonight didn’t change anything.
She hadn’t done anything illegal. Yet. And even what she was planning wasn’t drastic enough to call the Bogeyman down on her. He wouldn’t even have come looking for her if Captain Justice hadn’t tried to be all noble and called in an intervention. The goddamn heroes certainly had an overabundance of nosy nobility.
Well, they could just keep their noses out of it. She was going to talk to Little Vic. Just talk. And maybe scare him a little. They couldn’t arrest her for that. Much.
It wasn’t vengeance. It was a story. And Kim Carruthers always got to the bottom of a story.
Chapter Six: Ex Boyfriend Confab
Frost delayed until around noon the next day before placing the call. He’d known that he needed to let Justice know how things had gone with Kim, but he’d taken a night to relive every moment of their encounter—and envision several very naughty variations that could easily have occurred—before he was ready to report to her other ex.
There’d always been a strange edge to his dealings with Justice. The mix of fierce, irrational jealousy and deep, abiding gratitude that the other man had looked after Kim didn’t exactly make for a close friendship. Especially since Justice had no idea Kim had ever dated another super.
He answered on the first ring. “Frost?”
“You were right. She was going after Little Vic.”
Justice cursed, long and low. “Is he still alive?”
Frost frowned at the question. “I got to her before she could confront him. Besides, I don’t think she’s quite that bloodthirsty.”
Justice snorted. “You don’t know her like I do.”
No, I know her better, apparently. As soon as Kim had said she only wanted answers, not blood, Frost had recognized the truth in the statement. He was well acquainted with the darkness in his own soul and with identifying it in supers who had gone bad. Kim was ruthless in her pursuit of a story, but she wasn’t a killer. Not even close. Justice was wrong about that.
“She promised to stop stalking Little Vic.” Though he hadn’t been fool enough to believe her. She was still chasing her story.
“You’re kidding. Do you think she really will?” Justice asked, proving he did know her at least a little—which irritated Frost.
“Probably not,” he admitted—there was no point in prevaricating with Justice. The man was a human lie-detector. “But I’ll keep an eye on her for a few more days.”
“Until you get called away on a real hunt. I understand. Thanks for doing this, Frost. I owe you big.”
“No problem,” Frost grunted—keep it simple. That was how you avoided getting caught deceiving Justice. And it did feel like deception, letting the man think this was all a favor. That Frost didn’t really owe him for all the times he’d saved Kim. Of course, he wouldn’t have had to save her all those times if he hadn’t put her in danger by dating her in the first place.
“Hey, Justice,” he said when the other super would have hung up. “Did you ever worry that you were endangering her by being with her? That all those times she was kidnapped were really your fault?” And not some conspiracy of villains like Kim seemed to think.
Justice gave a short, sharp laugh. “Are you kidding? Kim Carruthers would run headfirst into danger every day of the week and twice on Sundays if it meant she got the story. She was going to be in trouble no matter who she dated. At least when she was with me one or two of the bad guys thought twice before they grabbed her, and the others knew better than to hurt her because I would come for them if they did.”
“And now that she doesn’t have your protection?” Frost asked, a little more sharply than he’d intended after Justice decimated his entire rationale for staying away from Kim with a single sharp laugh. “Now that she’s very publicly not yours anymore?” Mirage and Justice hadn’t exactly been subtle about their fledgling relationship.
“She’s super now. And a pretty fierce one, from what I hear. Eisenmann said he’s never seen a telekinetic with her raw power. Anyone who tangles with her now is on their own.”
“Even supers aren’t invulnerable,” Frost argued. “Don’t you worry about Mirage?”
“Of course I do,” Justice said, in that same easy, carefree way that made Frost want to punch him for not being more consumed by worry. “No one is invincible—no matter how close supers can come to that. Anyone—super or not—could get hit by a bus tomorrow. That doesn’t mean you don’t love them just because you can’t protect them from every danger in the universe.”
That’s exactly what you do. At least, it was what Frost tried to do. He loved his family and had been raised knowing that all of them were targets because of their roles as famous supers. Tandy—who had never known about her power or how to use it—had been especially vulnerable. When she’d been abducted recently he’d been ready to rip apart the world to get her back—and that was just his little sister. If he’d let himself love Kim—all the way, the way he knew he could—he’d go nuclear if anything ever happened to her.
“Do you ever worry that if something happens to Mirage, you’ll, I don’t know, lose it?”
“Of course I will.”
The answer was too flip. Too pat. “Would you avenge her?”
“Go villain you mean? I’d like to think I wouldn’t. That isn’t me. But it’s hard to say.”
For Frost it wasn’t hard. He could see himself crossing that line so easily. It was in him. He’d known it five years ago and he knew it now.
“What’s this about?” Justice asked. “Is the legendary Enforcer falling in love?”
“No,” he said, not caring that Justice would hear the edge of a lie. He’d never stopped loving her.
Chapter Seven: The Villain America Loves to Hate
Kim swaggered into The Hole in the Wall with a smile on her face and a .44 strapped to her hip. Activity in the bar suspended in a way she’d been convinced only happened in cheesy movies.
“Hello, boys.”
>
She’d been here before. The Hole in the Wall was a well-known villain hangout, decorated with framed, yellowed photos of every outlaw who’d ever robbed a bank, held up a train, or led a posse on a wild chase, with particular honor going to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. She’d had her share of pseudo-villain informants over the years and she’d never gotten a second glance from the less-than-savory crowd at The Hole when she came in hunting a story. But that was before she had powers and everyone assumed she was going to go full hero with them.
En masse, the population of The Hole eyed her warily. One particularly weasel-like specimen cringed and huddled lower over his beer at the bar as producers and camera men swarmed around him in an impressive ballet, avoiding one another’s sight lines as they went for the money shot.
She’d promised she wouldn’t stalk Little Vic.
She’d never said anything about confronting him in one of his known hangouts. The Volt himself was here every Friday to bask in the glow of his own celebrity, making the once quiet bar into something of a tourist destination.
Vic didn’t look like he was enjoying the spotlight tonight, cowering there anticipating her boot up his ass, but the man hovering nearby with a cell phone in one hand and an iPad in the other looked like he was about to wet himself with glee—the producer most likely. He waved one of the cameramen toward her, then held up both the iPad and the phone to record additional footage.
Everyone knew about her past with Little Vic. The producers would probably promo the hell out of this meeting for weeks before the air date, saving the juiciest parts of the confrontation for sweeps.
She didn’t care if she made the channel a mint. She’d sign any waiver they put in front of her if she got a little face time with Vic—and she had every intention of making sure this meeting had plenty of drama.
She’d had to wait three nights for it to be Vic’s usual night at The Hole. Three nights of restraint. Three nights of flinching at every icy chill that touched the back of her neck. She was becoming paranoid at every cold breeze, spinning around and searching the shadows every time she shivered—which, in February, was a lot of paranoia.
She’d called Justice and passed the time by chewing him out for siccing Frost on her, but she hadn’t even been able to stay mad at the dope. He was just so damn nice. Far too nice for her. Mirage was doing her best to corrupt him, but he’d always be a Boy Scout and Kim would always be drawn to the promise of darkness that lurked beneath the surface in Frost.
Shit. She needed to stop thinking about him. He was gone. Again. No amount of fantasizing about cold breezes was going to bring him back.
If he’d still been following her, he definitely would have stopped her before she walked into The Hole. Nope. Frost was history and Kim was on her own. Like always.
The cameramen wove around her as she approached the bar, keeping her steps nice and slow, letting them get her from every angle. She made sure her coat fluttered back to reveal the holster carrying her .44 and the super Taser. The Taser would be useless against Vic—he was a natural conductor, the freaking Volt—but a gun was a different story.
“Hey, Vic,” she said, all friendliness, as the guy on the barstool next to him scrambled to vacate the space. “Long time. You look good. Healthy.” She dropped onto the newly available seat. “Is that a new watch?”
Vic glanced guiltily at his wrist and the fancy designer watch that probably cost as much as most compact cars. “Uh, yeah. Hey, Kim. What are you doing here?”
“I can’t just want to see you? My old buddy Vic? After all the time we spent together, I think I’m hurt.”
“Allegedly,” he mumbled into his beer.
“What’s that?”
“The time we allegedly spent together. I was found innocent.”
“You were acquitted, honey. No one would ever believe you’re innocent. But see, that’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to be innocent. Not anymore. You can’t be tried again even if you take out a full page ad in the Sentinel bragging about the fact that you abducted me and held me prisoner for three days. So why play with words, am I right? Honesty is good for the soul. At least that’s what Captain Justice was always telling me.”
“Heard you guys split up.”
“We did. Funny how getting thrown into danger once a week can wear on a relationship. You’d be surprised how quickly that particular adrenaline rush gets old.”
“Uh huh.” Vic eyed her nervously, clearly not trusting her good cheer. Smart man.
“But that’s all in the past now, isn’t it, Vic? I’m a big bad super these days. Just like you.” She cocked her head, pretending to consider. “Gosh, Vic, do you think I’m tougher than you now? Scarier, even?”
He swallowed with effort. “Word around town is you want revenge.”
“Is that what people are saying? Naw. Just answers. I’m here to shoot the breeze with my old friend The Volt. All I want is a little honesty for a change. Is that so much to ask?”
Vic’s skin began to take on a distinct greenish cast.
“Don’t puke on me, Vic. I’m a TK. I’ll redirect any projectiles coming my way back at you and it won’t be fun for either of us.”
The producer twitched, looking like he might pass out from joy at the prospect.
“What do you want to know?” Vic whispered, clearly not sharing his handler’s enthusiasm.
“I want to know why.”
“Why?”
“Why did you kidnap me? What was in it for you? You never made any ransom demands. You weren’t using me as leverage against a hero as you tried to destroy the world because one—I wasn’t dating Justice yet so I was pretty random as hostages went. And two—you never wanted to destroy the world. You were just a dweeb with a little bit of static electricity in his touch who wanted to be famous. So why me?”
He shrugged, his eyes skittering away from hers along the bar—which was rapidly clearing out as the denizens of The Hole exercised the excellent survival instincts that had kept them out of Area Nine, the facility where supers who’d been naughty were sent, never to be heard from again.
“You were a cute reporter. If I had nabbed you—and I’m not admitting anything—I probably would have figured that it would get good coverage in the press.”
“You shouldn’t lie to me, Vic.” She flicked her fingers and his empty beer glass levitated off the bar before catapulting end over end and smashing into the far wall with enough force that it was reduced to glass dust.
The bartender didn’t even blink. He was too busy taking cover in a back room. She and Vic were alone in the bar now, except for his camera crew which swarmed around them eagerly.
“It isn’t a lie,” Vic mumbled, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. She wondered if the cameras would pick that up. High def panic.
“Who paid for your legal team, Vic?”
Oh yeah. That hit a nerve. The green tinge to his skin became more pronounced and he gagged slightly, but didn’t say a word.
“You know what I used to think?” she asked conversationally, as if her companion wasn’t about to blow chunks all over the bar in a fear reflex. “I used to think there was some kind of super villain club and bagging me was the price of admission. Funny, right?”
Vic tried to laugh. It didn’t work out for him. He sounded like someone was trying to gag a donkey.
“But lately I’ve realized I was making things too complicated. No clubs. No initiation rituals. Just one guy paying a bunch of you idiots to do his dirty work for him.” Kim clapped Vic on the shoulder and he eeped, shrinking down beneath her hand. “I’m betting he never even told you why it had to be me. But he rewarded you for a job well done, didn’t he?” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “Nice watch, Vic.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What’s his name?”
“Whose name?” Vic squeaked, feigning ignorance that would have been much more convincing if he hadn’t looked like he was about to
wet himself.
Kim heaved a dramatic sigh. “Let the record show that I asked nicely first.”
“First?” he yelped.
She palmed the revolver, pulling it smoothly out of the holster—and taking a distinct satisfaction in drawing like a gunslinger in the middle of The Hole in the Wall. Nothing like a little atmosphere to really make a moment come together.
Smiling sweetly, she aimed the barrel at the center of Vic’s chest. He went from green to chalk white in a heartbeat.
“What do you say, buddy? Are you faster than a speeding bullet? Wanna test it?”
Chapter Eight: Bringing a Gun to a Super Fight
Frost groaned and separated himself from the shadows of the booth where he’d been lurking and listening. He’d been quietly tailing Kim for days. As soon as he’d realized where she was headed tonight, he’d taken a short cut and slipped in the back of The Hole in the Wall. He’d found a booth where he could keep an eye on the spectacle that was Little Vic, but where Kim would be unlikely to spot him when she came in.
He needn’t have worried about concealing himself from her. She’d seemed to have eyes only for Vic.
Frost was almost offended she hadn’t sensed him even a little bit.
He hadn’t moved when she arrived. Waiting. Willing to let her prove she was just interested in talking to Vic. He’d held his position as the lowlifes in the bar—none of whom had recognized him beneath the grungy grey hoodie he wore—scattered like rats on a sinking ship when Kim started her chat with Vic.
He was beginning to think Kim had told the truth, that she didn’t really want revenge after all. Then she had to go and pull a gun.
Frost sighed and flipped back his hood. “Put down the gun, Kim.”