Temptress

Dedication

Chapter One

I sat at the bar, stirring an amaretto and orange and waiting for the blond muscle head in the corner to look my way. He and his buddies were preoccupied sucking test tubes from the shot girl’s cleavage. Their cheers and catcalls tangled with the thumping hip-hop, and my head pounded.

Left alone, I would’ve been snuggled in sweats and glued to the Food Network. Not trawling the bars.

But when was I ever left alone?

No way was I missing my
Iron Chef
for this frickin’ mission. It was time for Plan B.

I swiped my fingers in the condensation on my glass and rubbed at my mascara. Once raccoon eyes were in effect, I rumpled my blonde ringlets, slipped my dress straps off my shoulders and casually elbowed my glass as I stumbled off the barstool.

Crash.

That turned some heads. The bachelor party cheered, and my mark whistled with two fingers in his mouth.

Cute.

I swayed over, stumbling past the shot girl. Biceps caught me before I could hit the floor.

“You okay?” He licked his lips, and I could feel him eyeing the smudged make-up and slipping neckline. As much as I despised it, the floozy ploy never failed.

“Fiiiiine.” I pulled away and faked another stumble.

He caught me again. “What’s your name, sugar?”

I wanted to knee him in the balls for the ‘sugar’, but I could do that on my own time. “It’s Jenny.” I used to give out an alias, but it was pointless. As soon as I got their powers, my targets forgot me. The sooner the better with this guy.

 
I giggled and stroked his arm. “What are you, a boxer?”

“They call me Steel.” He puffed out his chest, waiting for me to recognize the name.

It took me a second to bite back a snicker, but hopefully he took the silence as awe. “You’re
the
Steel? What’re you doing in Vegas?”

“Panther’s bachelor’s party.” Steel tipped his head toward the cat-clawed future groom, whose whiskers were buried in the shot girl’s double D’s. “The Manhattan Ten are in the house.”

Always with the superhero card. But if Steel wanted to brag, I could play that game. All the better to get back in time for the Battle Prosciutto.

“Ohmigod!” I fisted my hands in Steel’s shirt. “I love you guys!”

Steel chuckled. “Want an autograph?”

“I think I have a Sharpie or…” I fumbled with my purse.

“Chill.” Steel tugged me away. “Let’s go upstairs. I left some photos in the VIP lounge.”

Lamest. Pickup line. Ever.

With Steel’s super-strength, I couldn’t get free without causing a scene, and the mission was a covert capture. Coded DNGC.

Do Not Get Caught.

I let Steel pull me up the ramp, faux-giggling all the way. The bouncer was an ex-NFL linebacker, but he jumped out of Steel’s way like a pimple-faced freshman from the chess club.

The rest of the Manhattan Ten clustered around stripper poles, ogling the dancers. Cyclone kept shooting jets of water at the chick in the nurse costume, soaking her teensy scraps of fabric.

So classy.

My stomach flip-flopped as I counted the heroes. Steel and Cyclone. Red Ruin, Jet and The Annihilator. Plus Panther and Thunder out in the club, and Thinktank in the corner. Only he was staying out of the action. He sat with his eyes closed and an untouched drink.

I’d thought Steel was exaggerating the whole “all of us are in the house.” It was supposed to be Panther, Steel and one or two others at most. Apparently a terrorist threat in Manhattan wasn’t reason enough to miss a good bachelor party. How the hell was I supposed to get Steel away from them?

Thinktank glanced my way, and I blanked my thoughts. His dark gaze penetrated, fluttering against my mind.
I’m just a floozy. Drunk and hooking up with a superhero. Nothing special.

Either I didn’t register, or Thinktank was tired of all the debauchery. He closed his eyes and sank back into his own head. He’d be a problem later. I had a bigger one to deal with first.

Steel scooped me up and pinned me to a sofa. He sucked at my neck, suffocating me in a cloud of Axe and Cuervo. My heart pounded, and I had to remind myself that I was in control. Kind of.

His kiss took me full on the mouth. My power stirred, but I could hold it back when I wanted a real lip-lock. Too bad Steel wasn’t on my make-out list

“Steel…” I wiggled away. “Can we go in the back? I want to be alone.” I couldn’t use my powers in front of the Ten. As soon as I struck, they’d all be after me. I couldn’t risk it.

Steel chuckled. “Let’s play here, baby.” His hand slipped up my shirt.

I snagged his wrist before his fingers found my bra strap. Exhibitionism wasn’t really my thing, especially with a super-powered audience. My stomach twisted. I was going to have to be more persuasive.

Even though he was drunk and ten times stronger than me, he let me shift positions. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and nibbled his earlobe. Steel moaned softly.

“Don’t you want me to yourself?” I whispered. “We’d have more fun without your friends watching.”

“Whatever you want, sugar.” Steel lifted me like nothing, though he copped a feel or two as he moved us to one of the private rooms. I kissed his neck to avoid Thinktank’s glare.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he elbowed the door shut. This room wasn’t messing around. Instead of token couches, a king-sized bed took up the floor space. There was a mini-bar, a nightstand whose contents I didn’t want to know and some intense mood lighting. Disco ball and everything.

Before Steel could toss me again, I yanked his head back. “I like to be on top.”

He grinned and sat on the bed, lowering me so I straddled his hips. I pushed him down.
Now
I was in control. I reached under my skirt for the handcuffs on my thigh garter and let them dangle and clink in front of him. “Do you like games?”

“Kinky.” Steel didn’t fight as I attached him to the headboard.

“Robert Donavan, alias Steel.” The cuffs clicked. “I’m authorized to take you into custody under section three point eight of the Superhero Justice Act. You’re to be tried for the rape of one Miranda Hutchins.”

His eyes widened. With his super-strength, he could’ve snapped the chain, but he didn’t have the time. I lowered my mouth. As soon as our lips met, it was too late.

He gasped, but my power worked fast. I sucked in his breath, sifting through his life force until I sensed the glowing center of his being. His powers. Once I could feel them, they were mine.

Steel’s eyes rolled back, and he sagged against the bed. I left him cuffed and disentangled to straighten my dress and hair.

That was one obstacle down. Now all I had to do was get a three hundred pound lump of unconscious muscle past seven of his closest hero friends, out of the club and down to the station.

It was asking a lot, considering I was just freelance. But who else could do it? If they got to keep their powers, supers tended not to sit around and wait for trial.

Hooray for justice.

With Steel’s strength coursing through me, giddiness outweighed my nerves. I could make this work. I had plenty of powers of my own. As long as I kept it stealth, I’d be fine. Though
Iron Chef
was looking like a bust.

I hovered up to the ventilation panel in the ceiling and heaved it open. It was big enough that I could squeeze in, but Steel’s shoulders were twice as wide as mine. That was out. I could make us both invisible and walk out the door, but that wouldn’t fly with Thinktank outside. A little invisibility wouldn’t fool him.

Widening my eyes, I focused on the walls. My vision sank through the layers. Paint, drywall, frames and wiring, and back out again. We shared one wall with the club, one with the VIP lounge and one with another private suite where Jet was occupied with a couple of strippers. I flinched away.

The fourth wall was more promising. It connected to an empty men’s bathroom, and I stretched my vision further.

Two women were touching up their lip-gloss in the adjoining women’s bathroom, and past that the only other obstacle was a service hallway. Through there, I could get into an alley, go invisible and fly away. The ladies grabbed their purses. I grinned and cut the X-rays.

The handcuff key was tucked in my bra, but I wanted to test my new strength. It was always best to show a new power who’s boss.

I gripped the metal headboard and pulled. Decorative iron snapped, and Steel slipped free.

I flipped him over my shoulders. He reeked of booze and sweat, but the smell was the only way I could tell he was there. This whole super-strength thing was clutch, though I knew I’d regret it later. I even had a free hand to press through the wall.

My skin tingled. Steel’s weight hit me as I yanked him through. It took three times more focus than usual, and I almost snagged him on a hot water pipe. Breathing hard, I stumbled into the men’s bathroom.

I was halfway to the sinks when the door cracked against the wall. Thinktank thundered in with energy crackling around his temples. Of course it was him.

Why hadn’t I checked his dossier before the mission? Right. He was supposed to be in New York. I knew he could read minds, but there was definitely more, and he looked way too muscular for a brain. His power jabbed against my skull like a fist squeezing my brain.

“Who do you work for?” With the question, pain jolted so hard my knees almost gave.

Fight or flight? I could win if I had to, but it wouldn’t be pretty afterward, and Thinktank hadn’t done anything wrong. It was time to cut my losses and run.

I swung Steel off my shoulders and tossed him like a horseshoe. He hit Thinktank like the whole horse, and they crashed into the bank of urinals.

I sprinted for the wall. God, I needed a teleporter to break some laws. This was ridiculous.

I dove. Thinktank’s energy contracted around me. Instead of going through the wall, I face-planted. White streaks shot through my vision as my nose made a sickening crunch.

Blood dripped to stain my dress. I glared over the hand cupped to my face.

Steel lay crumpled under the spray of a shattered urinal, but Thinktank was on his feet and approaching. The closer he came, the more my head ached. I couldn’t let him get his hands on me. Which meant letting loose the fireworks.

I flung my hands, casting a wall of fire between us. He cursed and jumped back. If the flames burned him half as badly as they seared my skin, it was worth it.

Another pang, and the fire guttered. Thinktank looked sooty but unharmed.

Bastard.

I let loose a wave of ice, with some laser beams for good measure. The cold was excruciating on burnt skin, and the lasers felt like atomic buffalo sauce jetting through my retinas. So much for my TV lineup. Or being coherent the next few days. My body was going to hate me for using this many acquired powers.

Thinktank dodged, lifting his fingers to his temples. A laser sizzled into his arm just before it fizzled. I slipped on leftover ice as his power clamped down.

He grabbed me by the back of the neck and kicked open a stall. “Who do you work for?”

With the question, Thinktank plunged my face into the toilet.

Ick. Cold. Disgusting.

I spluttered and kicked, but he must’ve done this before. His grip wouldn’t budge. I thrashed harder.

“The Rogue Alliance?” He plucked me out and thrust me down again.

Couldn’t the bastard just read my mind? If he couldn’t, I had one more card left. He was going to pay for making me use it.

Suppressing the urge to vomit, I took a huge gulp of toilet water. It tasted like bleach and things I didn’t want to think about, but thanks to the wannabe pirate/merman I’d apprehended off Somalia, my body pulled out enough oxygen to clear the spots from my eyes. I let my limbs go limp.

Thinktank hoisted me up and peered into my eyes. His mental hold relaxed—just barely. It was enough.

Gluing my mouth to his, I gave him back some of the nasty water as I sucked out his powers. He toppled, and I collapsed on him, hacking up whatever I’d swallowed.

My lungs burned and my body ached, but I scrabbled over to Steel. I dragged him out of a puddle and headed for the wall.