Authors: Vivi Andrews
“Not
closely enough,” Justice snarled. “She just blew up Little Vic.”
“
What
?”
Frost shot out a hand to grab Kim’s upper arm and stop her when she would have
stormed back to the bedroom with her pile of clothes. “What happened to Little
Vic?”
She
stopped struggling in his grip, her gaze snapping to meet his.
“He
was at The Hole in the Wall tonight. Half the town saw Kim walk in there after
him, then twenty minutes later the entire place goes up with Little Vic inside
and no trace of Kim. She must have learned to teleport. I’ve been trying to
call you for hours—”
And
he hadn’t heard his phone because he was balls deep in Kim. “She didn’t do it.”
Justice
wasn’t listening. “Pretty damn clever. Walk in with a bomb and teleport away at
the last second so everyone thinks you were vaporized in the blast. She would
have gotten away clean too, except one of the camera guys just woke up and told
doctors that she vanished before the bomb went.”
“Then
he should have told doctors that I was there too and I vanished
with
her
and there was no fucking bomb when we were there. She didn’t do it.”
“Is
Little Vic alive?” Kim asked, her voice low enough that Justice wouldn’t pick
it up.
Justice
growled into the phone. “Shit. I can tell you’re telling the truth, but that
doesn’t mean she didn’t teleport back in with a device after you left her. We
can’t really confirm the timeline because the one guy who regained
consciousness is having trouble remembering.”
“She
didn’t do it,” Frost repeated. “Did Little Vic survive?”
“He’s
critical. One of the camera guys was killed instantly and the other two are in
pretty bad shape. Luckily it looks like the rest of the bar patrons were smart
enough to get the hell away. Still, by the end of the night she could have four
dead bodies to answer for.”
“Goddamn
it, she didn’t do it, Justice!”
“You
can’t know that. We all know she has the potential to teleport. If she’s
figured out how, she could get across town and back in a matter of seconds—”
“Justice.
Let me be very clear. Kim has not been out of my sight for a single second
since we left The Hole in the Wall when Little Vic was very much alive. She. Did.
Not. Do. It.”
A
pause. “She’s there.”
“Right
in front of me.”
“At
two in the morning.”
The
implication made his back teeth grind, even though it was perfectly accurate. He
didn’t like the way Justice said it. “Thanks for letting us know about the
situation. We’ll look into it immediately. In the mean time, you can help us do
damage control by telling everyone who needs to know that Kim has a rock solid
alibi. Thanks, Justice.”
He
hung up before Justice could protest. Beside him, Kim leaned against the
island, staring fixedly at the floor. She gave a soft snort. “A rock hard
alibi.” She chuckled again.
He
eyed her, looking for signs of incipient hysteria. “Kim?”
“I’m
okay. My ex thinks I’m a mass murderer, but I’m fine.”
“He
doesn’t think that anymore.”
“No,
good point. Now he thinks I’m a slut.”
“Kim?”
She
lifted her gaze to his and when she did, her eyes were surprisingly clear. “Little
Vic?”
“Alive.
But in critical condition, along with two of the TV people. One of them died
instantly.”
She
cringed. “Jesus. I never should have gone there.”
“This
isn’t your fault.”
“Yes,
it is. Someone is trying to get to me, to frame
me
. Or stop me from
learning more about the man who hired Vic. Why else would they go after him
like that?”
“They
might not have known you could teleport to safety. The real target could have
been you. Or me.”
She
glowered at him. “That isn’t comforting, Frost.”
“Right
now the only comfort I have is the fact that we have proof that you didn’t do
it.”
“What
do we do now?” she asked, a stark vulnerability in her eyes.
“We
tell the police that you’re innocent, set them on the trail of the real bomber,
and then we do everything we can to figure out who the hell is behind this.”
“Right.”
She sorted through the pile of her clothing until she came up with her cell
phone, not seeming to notice that she was still in her underwear. “I don’t even
know who to call.”
“Maybe
we should get dressed first,” he urged, but she was no longer listening. Kim
was frozen, eyes wide, staring at her phone. “Kim?”
“He
called me.”
“Wha—”
“Little
Vic. He called me. It must have been right before—Oh my God, there’s a
message.”
Her
hand was shaking. He wrapped his own around it, steadying her. “Put it on
speaker.”
She
called up the message, still clutching her clothes, and he moved to stand
behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and tucking her against him. She
leaned into him, though he doubted she was even conscious of the support, as
focused as she was on the automated voice announcing the time of the call.
“
Kim?
”
They both sucked in a breath. It was Vic all right—with a panicky edge to his
voice that hadn’t been there even when Kim had a gun on him. “
Shit, I don’t
know who you’ve been talking to, but I got a call right after you pulled your
little vanishing act. The Boss, the one you were asking about, wants to see
you. Tonight. Two a.m. Pier 42.”
He sighed heavily into the phone.
“Listen, I had to give you the message—I didn’t have a choice about that—but
don’t go, Kim. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. Shit, I’ve given
you a lot of reasons not to, but you gotta believe me. I always liked you. It
wasn’t my call to kidnap you like that. I didn’t want to, but I was scared not
to and the perks—fuck, it was a good deal for me, everyone knows that, but I
always felt bad about nabbing you like that and now I’m begging you, just
ignore this, okay? Don’t go. This woman, she’s dange—”
Static
crackled on the line and the message cut off abruptly.
Kim’s
grip was white-knuckled on the phone. “Was that the explosion? Did we just hear
him get blown up?”
“He
wasn’t blown up. He’s still in surgery or something. Critical.”
“But
that was the bomb. We heard the bomb.” She twisted, pulling away from him
enough to turn and meet his eyes. “He said it was a woman. At the bar he said
it was a guy, but on the phone he said the
woman
was dangerous.”
“You
aren’t going.”
He
knew the moment the words left his mouth that he should have said that
differently. On the plus side, the last of her shock dissipated, but on the
not-so-great side she might kill him. Her eyes flashed dangerously and she
stepped out of the circle of his arms. “Excuse me?”
He
held up his abruptly empty hands, feeling a distinct empathy for lion tamers. “Just
listen for a second. It’s obviously a trap.”
“You
think?” Sarcasm drenched the words. She stalked to the ottoman, dropped her
stack of clothes on it and began shimmying into her jeans.
He
swore and reached for his own discarded clothes, shucking his pajama bottoms
and dragging his pants on commando rather than going back to the bedroom for
his briefs. “You have no idea what you would be walking into. You aren’t
invincible.”
“No,
but I’m pretty damn close.” All that gorgeous creamy flesh disappeared as she
rapidly buttoned her shirt. “A bomb can’t hurt me. I can pull a TK force field
around myself and repel any shrapnel that might be coming my way. I’ll be
fine.”
“You
don’t know that bombs are the only weapon in this villain’s arsenal. You don’t
even know who you’re going to meet.”
“Which
is why it is all the more crucial I go. I’ll never get answers from here.” The
holster settled around her hips.
His
blood chilled. She was back to true Kim Carruthers form, rushing into trouble
without a second thought, but now she was even more foolishly overconfident
because of her new super power. She had no idea how vulnerable she was, and how
much the thought of anything happening to her—even the slightest scratch—killed
him.
He
couldn’t lose her. Not now.
“Kim,
listen—”
But
she wasn’t listening. She was hot on the heels of a story, every fiber of her
being focused on that payoff—the Truth.
“If
you’re so worried I can’t handle myself, come with me.” She grinned as she
deftly slid bullets into the revolver. “We do make a good team, Frost. You
might as well stop fighting it. Besides, you can teleport us there. We’re late
already.” She checked the time on her phone before sliding it into another slot
in her holster. “You get my back and I’ll get yours. Just like a real super
power couple.” She grabbed her boots and sat down to yank them on.
He
knew what she wanted. His parents had that. DynaGirl and Lucien Wroth had it. Lots
of super couples fought the good fight together. But he couldn’t do that. He
wasn’t built that way. He couldn’t watch her go into danger without absolutely
losing his mind. Not Kim.
Frost
bent and put on his own shoes. Kim wouldn’t stop until she had her answers and
he couldn’t let her put herself in peril. The answer was clear.
She
would forgive him later. She would understand.
When
he straightened she was right in front of him, bouncing on the balls of her
feet, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
He
cupped her shoulders, freezing her power and drawing it into himself.
She
rocked up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth, before settling
back on her heels, eyes gleaming. “Let’s do this.”
“I’m
sorry, Trouble.”
Before
she could do more than frown at his words, he yanked at the teleportation
aspect of her power and launched himself toward Pier 42—
only
himself.
He’d
never teleported without bringing the person with the power with him. He knew
it could be done, but that knowledge didn’t prepare him for the reality. He’d
never been very good at landings, but this one threw him to the ground. He
might have cared more about the grimy concrete pressed to his cheek if his
internal organs hadn’t felt like they were going through a spin cycle. Hopefully
by the time they stopped spinning his liver hadn’t switched places with his
spleen.
Note
to self: never fucking do that again.
He
came up onto his hands and knees, taking it as a victory that he managed not to
lose the power bar he’d eaten. A strange taste began building at the back of
his throat—like he was swallowing static electricity. It swelled—his hunter’s
sense of a power being used nearby going wild until that static taste
overwhelmed his senses.
But
there was no one here.
The
pier was empty at two-thirty in the morning. Frost struggled to his feet,
scanning his surroundings, but while the sense of the power remained, there
didn’t seem to be anyone behind it. His only clue on the origin of the power
was the warehouse at the back of the pier.
He
jogged over to the building, every instinct on high alert. He circled, coming
around to the narrow side door, but before he could reach for the handle, the
door swung open. The interior of the building was even darker than the moonlit
pier—that was all he had time to register before something arced out of that
darkness at him.
The
electrodes hit his chest and electric current tore through his body, sending
him crashing, writhing to the ground. Only when the surge ceased was he able to
identify the wires that had sprung out at him. Taser. Super strength, by the
feel of it.
Frost
groaned, unable to move, his fingertips still twitching involuntarily.
A
figure appeared in the doorway, oddly shaped and moving wrong, too smoothly,
rolling he realized. “Welcome, Mr. Nightwing. We’ve been expecting you,” a
silky female voice intoned, as moonlight painted the figure, revealing it
wasn’t man but machine. Some kind of robot on wheels. Its arms lowered like a
forklift, sliding under his body to hoist him into the air. It reversed back
into the building, his body dangling.
The
door closed with a clang, sealing them in darkness, but the robot kept moving,
not needing light to navigate. Frost tried to call up his power, tried to
freeze the goddamn gears or something, but his body wasn’t responding the way
it should. He’d never been hit with a super Taser before. Damn, those things
fucking
hurt
. His fingers were still twitching.
The
robot dropped him on the ground and then he felt it prodding at his neck,
snapping something into place. When Frost could lift his right arm, he touched
the smooth, metallic band circling his throat.
“The
collar you’re feeling is equipped with several very nasty neurotoxins—any one
of which could kill you in under a minute. Should you attempt to use your power
in any way, the toxins will be injected into your bloodstream,” that female
voice purred. “So please, Mr. Nightwing, don’t be a hero.”