Red Light Hero

by Kory Shen

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  Afterword

  About the author

  RED LIGHT

  HERO

  THE DARK GENOME BOOK ONE

  KORY SHEN

  Red Light Hero, The Dark Genome Book One, is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 Kory Shen

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  CHAPTER 1

  Cover Girl watched the well-dressed arms dealer display his merchandise to three men in black masks with homemade eyeholes. She counted two armed sentries at the entrance of the warehouse, two bodyguards flanking the illicit businessman, and one sniper nesting in the ceiling trusses.

  No one noticed the tall dark-haired model clad in a white catsuit a mere three yards from the illegal transaction. Cover Girl had insisted on a new white outfit the other day. Black was overdone. Yesterday's style. It's not as if color mattered for stealth when you could turn invisible.

  She smiled as the crime scene unfolded before her. The thrill of brazen spying never got old. Tomorrow, she'd be headlining a fashion event in Paris as Page Glory, social media darling and global it girl. She didn't even need a mask. Hell, she could go on a mission naked, and not a single soul would realize it. Now that would be exciting…

  An electronic voice whispered from her earpiece. "Cover Girl, this is Escort. I'm in position. East wall, upper window. Over."

  Cover Girl glanced up towards a row of windows at the top of the far wall. She couldn't see Escort but trusted that the other hero would be ready. Her lips and tongue moved in silence while the small vocalizer taped to her throat translated and transmitted her reply.

  "Copy that, Escort. Stand by for backup only. I've got this. Keep an eye on the ninth one in the rafters, will you? Over."

  "Copy that, Cover Girl. Eyes on the sniper. Over."

  They had all the evidence they needed right in front of them. Cover Girl drew her blast pistol and fingered the settings by memory. Paralysis mode. This was a non-lethal operation unless the threat escalated.

  Cover Girl mentally traced the path she would take to give her a line of sight on each target without leaving a vulnerable sound signature. She took several steps to her left for the optimal starting position.

  "Escort, stand by. Action in three, two, one…"

  The air sizzled with Cover Girl's blaster charges. The first bodyguard fell to the ground with a thump, then the second. Cover Girl frowned. She hadn't heard the third sound of the arms dealer hitting the floor, but she was already moving onto the other targets.

  She made quick work of the buyers and two sentries. Now she had to take out the sniper without killing him. A fall from that height—

  Loud clapping interrupted Cover Girl. She spun around to discover the arms dealer still standing. She fired two more blaster charges and rolled away to avoid any return fire.

  The charges glanced off the man's business suit. Shielding. Cover Girl changed the settings on her blaster.

  "I am an arms dealer, after all," the man said.

  "Escort, take out the sniper," Cover Girl whispered.

  "Roger, I'm on it. Over."

  A muffled cry rang out, then ended abruptly.

  The arms dealer reached for a large assault rifle with an electronic display. The man thumbed several switches on the side of the weapon while peering into the display.

  "Let's see. No infrared. No ultraviolet."

  A voice spoke from behind him. "This is your only warning. Surrender or face lethal force."

  The man twisted around and sprayed the air with plasma bolts. He stopped and leaned over to examine the audio transmitter on the ground. He crushed it with his heel.

  "So that's how it is," the man said. "How about we even things up?"

  The man turned his rifle upwards and peppered the ceiling lights. The warehouse plunged into darkness.

  Damn, this guy was annoying. Escort couldn't teleport into the dark to bail her out, either. She had to end this.

  "The problem with you heroes is that you're heroes. I'm not. You care about saving lives. I don't."

  The man's voice echoed as it moved from one place to another. He wasn't standing still.

  Cover Girl stared into the darkness and whispered, "Activate audio triangulation."

  The transmitters she had scattered around the warehouse didn't only broadcast her voice. They detected the lightest scraps of sound and sent a rapid fire series of Morse code blips straight to Cover Girl's earpiece. The blips encoded the distances between the transmitters, the target, and Cover Girl over an encrypted radio frequency.

  Anyone else listening would have heard electronic noise. To Cover Girl, though, they painted an aural landscape. Deciphering the encoded double triangulation wasn't simple, but the man was right about one thing. She was a hero. A professional.

  The man had stopped moving. Cover Girl held her breath and aimed her blaster. A few more seconds of confirmation, and she would have him.

  A scream filled Cover Girl's earpiece with an intense chatter of blips.

  "You hear that?" the man said. "I killed one of the buyers. Back off now, or I take them out one by one."

  The man was good. Cover Girl had hoped he would reveal himself by firing his weapon. She changed the setting on her blaster again. Maximum. She couldn't risk anything less now. If that wasn't enough to pierce the shield, she had one other option.

  "Escort, you ready? I'm going to need a firefly. Over."

  "Roger, Cover Girl. Confirmed, one firefly coming up. Over."

  Her earpiece chattered. The man had moved to the left. Cover Girl adjusted her aim, held her breath, and fired.

  Flashes of bluish-white charges lit up the pitch-black warehouse like a paparazzi party. Cover Girl didn't flinch. She was used to it.

  Her aim was perfect. The blaster charges struck the arms dealer in his chest, but nothing happened. The man laughed as he swiveled his weapon towards the source of the attack. Before the last light of the blaster charges had vanished, a dark figure appeared beside the arms dealer, then disappeared. The laughter ended as sharply as it had begun.

  Cover Girl waited.

  "This is Escort. I have one confirmed kill. Target is neu
tralized. Over."

  Cover Girl shrugged. She had warned the bastard.

  She reached into a side pocket and threw a microflare onto the ground. A harsh green light flooded the warehouse. Cover Girl counted seven unconscious bodies and the bleeding body of the murdered buyer.

  She turned to the last lump on the ground. In the middle of a dark red pool lay two legs, two arms, and a head. The torso was missing. She frowned at the assault rifle lying nearby. Shielding and plasma weapons? Not many people could build those. Who had outfitted the arms dealer? Was it the Maker? She'd have to tell the others at the Institute.

  "Copy that, Escort. Confirmed clear on my side. Call in cleanup."

  Cover Girl let her invisibility end and lifted her arms to stretch. Staying invisible for too long was like standing in one place. It left her restless.

  She untied her dark brown hair and shook it free. Long hair was a tactical liability, but most of the female heroes refused to shave their heads as a matter of principle. With a satisfied sigh, Cover Girl surveyed the gory scene before her one last time. Two casualties against a well-armed opponent wasn't terrible. At least everyone involved was a criminal.

  Cover Girl clicked her heels. The rear of her sound-damping combat boots extended into three-inch spikes. It didn't matter if no one else knew what she looked like. She would.

  "It's a wrap," Cover Girl said as she disappeared again.

  CHAPTER 2

  Alan Star sat on the park bench, tapping his feet on the ground. The sun had already set, but a steady stream of evening joggers, couples, and the occasional dog walker passed by on the asphalt path stretching before him. He checked his phone again for new messages.

  Nothing. He reread the last message instead.

  Almost there. Two minutes.

  She was coming. He tapped his feet faster as a familiar mix of excitement and nervousness grew. Who would show up? Would she be hot? God, please be hot.

  Alan had sworn to his friends that he would find a nice girl to settle down with, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. The thrill of hooking up with a stranger was too enticing to give up.

  With his trim dark hair, deep brown eyes, and sharp facial contours framed by a dash of stubble, Alan had little trouble finding women. His six-foot-three frame honed with iron discipline didn't hurt, either. Alan always wondered at that contradiction. He could swear off beer or drag himself to the weight room no matter how tired he was. But he couldn't stop searching for a fresh sexual buzz. As long as the women kept coming, so would he.

  Alan smirked at his own joke, then forced himself into a bland expression as a middle-aged woman came down the path. She wore a saggy halter top that was too small for her bust and denim shorts that were too tight for her age. Pink lipstick on her mouth glowed like radioactive waste, and heavy eyeshadow made her look as if she had been in a bar fight last night. She turned her head from side to side, searching for something. Or someone.

  Alan groaned. Please not her, anyone but her. Should he get up and leave? He had sent a picture of his face. He always did. What if she recognized him and made a scene?

  Alan lowered his head to his phone. Would she leave if he ignored her? His left hand gripped the edge of the park bench. His right thumb flicked across his phone. He tensed as he sensed someone approaching.

  A soft feminine voice whispered. "Alan?"

  There was a tantalizing, almost hypnotic overtone to that single word. Despite his resolve, Alan looked up out of curiosity. The dowdy woman had walked further down the path. In front of him was a tall brunette wearing large sunglasses, a white t-shirt, tan duster cardigan, slim denim, and open-toed sandals.

  Jackpot! She wasn't showing much skin, and she had that billowing cardigan around her, but Alan could tell he had a winner. Alan grinned, trying to summon every ounce of charm he owned into one brilliant, mischievous smile.

  "Yeah, that's me. Are you Jane?"

  The woman held out a perfectly manicured hand. "I'm Jane. Nice to meet you, Alan."

  Alan stood to meet her handshake. He had expected delicate fingers. Her grip was…firm. Or tough. "Likewise. Want to sit here and chat for a bit first?"

  "Sure." They sat.

  "What's with the sunglasses at night?" Alan teased.

  "Oh, you know how these things are. Never know who you might run into." Jane flashed a perfect set of white teeth as she smiled back at him.

  The woman was gorgeous. Alan couldn't believe his luck. This time would be different. She could be the one. No more endless hours trawling online and in bars for the next fling. He would figure out a way to turn this into something more.

  A small voice reminded him that he had said the same thing a million times before. No, this time would be different. He knew it. He felt it.

  "Is everything okay?" Jane asked in an unsure voice. "If I'm not your type—"

  "No, no. I'm good, I mean you're good. We're both good." Alan reached out to take Jane's hand. Her hand trembled. He pulled back his hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

  Jane giggled. "I'm not scared. I'm excited." Her voice became heavier. "I can't wait anymore. No more chit chat. So are we going to…?"

  Hell yeah. Definitely a keeper.

  "Sure, my place is a few minutes from here. Let's head there."

  Alan started to rise, but Jane tugged on his arm, pulling him back down.

  "No. I want it here."

  "What?" Alan looked around him. "Did you drive? Isn't parking a bitch around here?"

  "No, here." Jane gazed at Alan.

  Oh shit. This kept getting better and better.

  "Nice. Yeah, I'm all into that too. But we have to find somewhere more private."

  There was a steady trickle of people walking along the path. On the opposite side of the path, a group sat together on the grass. On their side, about twenty yards away, an old man waited with a plastic bag in his hand for a dog to finish its business.

  Alan pointed to a cluster of bushes in the distance. "How about over there? It's dark enough that it should be safe unless someone walks next to us."

  Jane shook her head. Her words tumbled out in a breathless rush. "No, right here. I want it here."

  Damn, was she getting turned on at the thought of this? Okay, he had to make this work. He didn't want to get arrested, though.

  "Um, okay. Maybe we use your cardigan to cover up, or—"

  Jane put a hand to Alan's mouth. Unlike before, her fingers were cold and clammy. "Can you keep a secret?"

  "Huh? Yeah, anything you want, babe. I can do it."

  "You trust me?"

  Alan's heart thumped harder. He didn't care if he went to jail. He had to do this. He had to have Jane.

  "Yeah, I trust you."

  "Promise me you'll fuck me hard, no matter what. Promise me."

  "I promise, but can you take off your glasses? I want to see your face."

  Jane hesitated. "I shouldn't. I can't."

  "We're about to do a lot worse. I'm trusting you. Trust me, Jane."

  "Just a peek." Jane lifted her sunglasses up to her forehead. "There, happy?"

  Large blue eyes stared back. There was something familiar about the face, but he couldn't place it. Who was this goddess? Was she famous? Did he know her? Whoever she was, she was drop-dead gorgeous, and he didn't want to mess this up.

  "You have lovely eyes," Alan said.

  Jane lowered the sunglasses again and smiled. "That's enough peeking for you."

  Alan raised an eyebrow. They were about to fuck in public, but she made it sound like seeing her face was more naughty. Whatever.

  "Thanks, babe. I'm ready when you are." He glanced down at the bulging crotch of his pants.

  Jane bit her lip. "I haven't done this before. Promise to keep this a secret."

  Alan looked back and forth along the path. There was a momentary lull in the foot traffic. The group on the other side of the path seemed busy. The dog owner was picking up after his pet.

  "I promise to keep
this a secret. Also to fuck you hard, no matter what."

  "And don't scream."

  "Scream?"

  Jane responded by taking off her cardigan and letting it fall to the ground. She stood in front of Alan and unbuttoned her jeans. She pulled the zipper lower and lower. Alan watched in eager anticipation.

  Jane vanished.

  Alan blinked. Jane had been standing in front of him. The next moment, she vanished. Alan tried to stand up, but a heavy invisible force pushed him back down.

  "You promised." It was Jane's voice.

  Alan turned his head. "What? What's going on?"

  "I'm sorry, maybe this was a mistake…"

  Alan's jaw dropped open. It hit him. Jane was an alpha. Oh my fucking god.

  "I'm cool. I got it." He felt the weight lift off of him, but it was his turn to reach with his arms and pull the invisible Jane back to him. Something light and feathery brushed his face.

  "I got it," he whispered into what he hoped was Jane's ear. "Tell me what to do."

  This was his lifelong dream. To fuck an alpha girl. He would have given anything to do this. Holy shit! Stay cool, he told himself.

  "I needed this so badly," Jane's voice whispered back.

  Something pressed against Alan's mouth. Lips. A tongue. Alan closed his eyes. Everything made more sense that way. He touched Jane's smooth skin, running his hands up the back of her shirt to unclip her bra. There was no bra. Alan grinned mid-kiss as he moved his hands to the front. Two hands ran over his own chest while he returned the favor.

  A dog barked.

  Alan opened one eye. A terrier strained on its leash while an old man held it back.

  "We're going home, Lucy." The old man reeled the dog back and scooped it up into his arms. "What the fuck is wrong with young people?" he muttered as he walked away.

  "The dog can't see you, can it?" Alan asked.

  Jane laughed. "No." An invisible hand pulled on his hair. "Focus on me, not the dog, silly."

  They made out for another minute. Alan heard the footsteps of several people walking by, but he didn't care what they thought. His eyes were closed anyways.

  "Hold on," Jane said.

  The weight straddling him went away. A pair of jeans appeared on the bench next to him, then, a t-shirt. He waited, but nothing else appeared. Instead, an invisible set of hands tugged his own zipper down and reached inside, plucking him free. Alan glanced about. No one was watching at the moment.