Temptress (2 page)

Thinktank twitched. I really, really wanted to leave him. He’d interfered with my sting and almost blown the mission. And what kind of guy had the stomach to keep a rapist on his crime-fighting squad?

But whatever Thinktank’s questionable leadership policies, he was a hero. Bona-fide. He saved babies from four-alarm fires, disarmed bio-weapons and had kicked enough supervillain ass to warrant a knighthood, a Congressional Medal of Honor and a Nobel Peace Prize. Anyone with a TV knew that much.

He was a good guy. And I’d have to give him back his powers.

I grabbed each of the heroes by an arm and dragged them through the wall, glancing back in time to see Red Ruin and The Annihilator tear through the door.

They had no chance with their leader out of commission. We flashed invisible as I flew us out into the alley and into the air.

Vegas glittered below us, but hauling the men took away from the spectacle. Just because I could lift them didn’t mean I should. Pain ripped up my arms, tearing through my shoulders.

We were all going to have dislocated shoulders if I didn’t get to the station soon, and hauling both of them, I couldn’t exactly jet. Despite the pain, I shivered. Even in summer, Vegas got cold when the sun set.

Nothing like flying over the nighttime desert in a soaked mini-dress.

Chapter Two

As soon as I sprawled onto the roof at the station, a detachment of officers swarmed. Four of them dragged Steel away to be booked and the rest approached Thinktank and me in a cautious semi-circle. One radioed the chief. I pressed my face against the roof, content to lay and catch my breath.

By the time the chief puffed up the stairs, I’d managed to sit up. Go me.

“What do we have here?” With a toe, Chief nudged Thinktank onto his back. His eyes bulged. “Don’t tell me this one went off the reservation?”

“No…” I pushed to my feet. I should’ve spent the flight over thinking of some good excuses, but of the two of us,
I
was the one off the reservation.

“Everyone clear out.” The chief waved the remaining officers back to the door. Despite the darkness, I could make out the muscle twitching under his eye. Once the door slammed, he turned the full force of his disapproval on me. “Explain, Ray.”

At least he wasn’t mad enough to use my name in front of the other officers. “The intel was wrong. It was almost all of the Ten.” The two ladies had skipped out on the debauchery, but eight were plenty of trouble.

“Shit.” Chief ran fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. It had a lot more salt these days.

“I almost made it anyway, but Thinktank sensed me. He attacked before I could explain.”

“Could be worse,” Chief said. “We’ll brief him when he comes to.”

“Well…”

“Goddammit. You took his powers?” Chief’s muscle tic kicked up a notch.

“Giving them back now. He’ll never know the difference.” I crouched next to Thinktank while Chief grumbled.

Unconscious, in jeans and a black collared shirt, he should’ve looked like a regular guy passed out after a hard night at the bars. Not even close. He was too tall, too chiseled, and too…something I couldn’t pinpoint. He was good-looking, though not movie star gorgeous, with a crooked nose and short dark hair. No frosted tips or gangsta jewelry like all of the club rats who were trying too hard. Just an unassuming confidence that I had to admit was a little sexy.

Then again, he’d shoved my head in a toilet.

I planted my hands on Thinktank’s shoulders and sealed my mouth to his chilled lips. Sifting through my reservoir of power, I felt for his energy. Steel’s strength jumped to the top of the pile, but I shifted it aside. Dozens of other heroes and their powers swirled inside me—shape-shifters, doppelgangers, fliers, and weather-workers—but none of the energies belonged to him.

Recoiling, I closed my eyes and searched deeper. There. I found the power and wrapped it around me, focusing in on the chief.

—him out of all the heroes she could bring in? But Murdoch’s on vacation, so there’s no one to tip the press. We can spin this. Mistaken identity. Sit him down and explain the situation with Steel. He’s a good guy. He’ll—

Between Chief’s thoughts and the pounding headache, I definitely still had Thinktank’s powers. I bent for a second kiss. As soon as our lips touched, the power slipped away like oiled marbles.

I tried again. And again. Nothing.

“What’s the hold up, Ray?” Chief asked when I came up for air.

“There’s a problem.” I wiped my lips against the back of my hand. A problem with my powers, or his? Either way, I was the one in trouble. “I can’t give the powers back.”

“Say that again?”

“It’s never happened like this. I can feel his energy, but it won’t go back.”

The chief paced, and I couldn’t resist the urge to listen in.
—what I get for relying on heroes. Goddamn. The paperwork. She was off mission. We can’t keep him here. She’ll have to mop up on her own—

“What?” I jerked away from Thinktank.

The Chief frowned. “Well, Ray. You’re up the creek this time. It was an unauthorized capture, and I won’t keep an innocent hero after you’ve stolen his power. You broke it, you fix it.”

“That’s…” Bullshit. A terrible idea. But it was mine to fix. I wouldn’t have touched Thinktank if I’d imagined this could happen. “Where should I take him?”

“Anywhere but here. And try to have this fixed before the Feds are on your ass.”

“Chief! You wouldn’t—”

“I have to phone it in, Jenny.” He lifted a hand and his voice softened. “I trust you, and I know you wouldn’t pull a stunt like this on purpose, so I might forget to make that call until tomorrow, but I will make it. This guy’s the top hero on the East Coast. We keep the Feds informed or they’ll have us both in cuffs.”

“I’ll take him back to my place.” I cringed at the thought. My penthouse was my sanctuary. The only place I was Jenny Ray instead of Temptress. I never brought guys back, let alone heroes. It would start with Thinktank, and then a few alphabet agencies looking for him, followed by his crime-fighting buddies, and soon I’d be on the map for every super who wanted revenge. I needed to get him out before he woke up.

Swinging Thinktank onto my back, I floated for the edge of the building. “I’ll call when I figure this out.”

“You better,” Chief said as I flew further. “And get some rest. You look like hell.”

I snorted. Hell? That was for damn sure.

Coasting away from the glitter of the strip, I climbed for more altitude. By the time we made it to the Palms and touched down on my balcony, I felt like I’d been put through a pasta roller. The infinity pool’s lights glowed invitingly, but I wanted a bath. A hot, hot bath.

I kicked off my heels and moved through the sliding door, flicking lights with one hand and balancing Thinktank with the other. I flipped him onto the boxy sofa in the formal living room. His feet hung over the edges, but instead of looking awkward, he made the sofa look ridiculous. Like contemporary furniture wasn’t man enough to hold him.

Making him as comfortable as I could, I rearranged his arms. Blood oozed from his biceps. The laser. I’d scored a better hit than I thought.

I padded on cold tiles to the bathroom and opened my under-sink pharmacy. Prescription bottles crowded the tiered shelves. I popped a couple of Vicodin from the enormous bottle at the front and blinked in some eye drops before wrestling out the med-kit. I had a broken nail, but my nose looked worse than it was and, for once, someone else had the worst of the scrapes and burns. I was just really, really skuzzy. I flicked the taps for the tub and added three scoops of eucalyptus bath salt. Between those and the Vicodin, I’d have to start feeling less like tenderized meat, but bliss would have to wait a few more minutes.

Thinktank hadn’t stirred on the couch. Unbuttoning his shirt, I couldn’t help but notice his abs. I could totally do my laundry on that washboard.

I tried to maneuver the shirt off, but he was too heavy. I grabbed scissors from the med-kit. I’d already done enough that de-arming his Armani wouldn’t make it any worse. After a few snips, I draped the severed sleeve over a sofa arm and bent to check the damage.

An even half-circle tore through Thinktank’s arm, just below his M10 tattoo. Singed skin curled around the wound, but there wasn’t as much blood as I thought, and the laser had self-cauterized. To be sure, I sprayed some anti-bacterial mist before wrapping his arm with gauze.

That was one issue down. The next one wasn’t so simple.

Focusing on Thinktank’s energy, I let his powers rise to fill me. His thoughts blurred with wordless images that wouldn’t come into focus. I could sense tangles of awareness from all over the hotel, including the chaos from a rager in the penthouse four floors up. That, I’d expected. Everything else was a surprise.

Thinktank’s nose had been broken three times. He was left-handed and a Master in kung fu. The temperature in the penthouse fluctuated between 67 and 68 degrees, and everywhere I looked, I had an instant count. Candles, eighteen; wine glasses, thirty-two; and hairs on Thinktank’s arms, one-hundred thirty-seven thousand, two-hundred eighty-five.

I couldn’t shift my gaze without new waves of ratios and measurements. The longer I looked, the more it built, until I had full-scale statistics. Thinktank breathed an average of eleven and a half times per minute. Before I could get overwhelmed with the measurements of his lips, I ducked for kiss.

As soon as we touched, his power slipped my grasp, slinking back to the swirl of energies inside me. Pain jabbed into my skull. As if the situation wasn’t enough of a headache, I had to get an actual migraine. I pulled away and left Thinktank to sleep it off. Maybe his powers were so aware that they needed him conscious before they’d snap back. It had never happened before, but his powers weren’t like any of the others in my repertoire.

I poured a glass of sangria and made my way to the tub. Short of molesting him, there was nothing I could do until Thinktank woke. I wasn’t going there. We could talk it out after my bath. After swishing through half a bottle of mouthwash, I kicked off my dress and panties, leaving them balled on the tile, and sank to my shoulders in the steamy, eucalyptus-scented water.

Hero-work could wait a while.

I jerked awake. I’d gone numb to that harpy’s kiss, but I couldn’t sense her. Or anything short of the obvious. I was in a million dollar penthouse—still Vegas by the skyline—cramped on a pretentious sofa with a missing sleeve and a bandaged arm.

Nothing else.

No specs, no data, no measurements.

Silence. No powers.

Temptress. For a guy with a super-brain, I was a royal idiot. She’d slipped by me like nothing, passing under my safeguards and hitting Steel before I could blink. Still, I’d had her.

Then she sucked my soul out. If I couldn’t get my powers back—

No. Fuck that. Where was she? And where was Steel?

The penthouse was too quiet. A few dim lights glowed, but other than the red stilettos tipped over on the balcony, the place looked like a model unit. The formal dining room was still set with stacks of plates and folded napkins. Did anyone live here? Or was it meant to be my holding cell?

I slipped into the kitchen. A wineglass stood in the sink, printed with scarlet lipstick. She had to be here. I couldn’t key in on her thoughts to confirm, but my ears worked fine, especially with so little else to distract.

A soft splash echoed from the hallway. I stole toward the noise. Was it Temptress? I wasn’t her match at the moment, but I gritted my teeth. Either way, I was getting Steel and my powers.

I moved through more empty, decorator-sterile rooms. The bedroom was the only one that looked lived-in, with a closet full of clothes and a bottle of cologne on the nightstand. I pressed my ear to the closed door. I’d kick it down if I had to, but for the hell of it, I turned the knob. It eased open.

Temptress lay in the square marble tub, eyes closed, with wet curls plastered to her cheek and shoulders. Asleep, no make-up, the soft light glowed against the curve of her neck. No wonder Steel had been fooled. He might be a red-blooded hero, but he’d screwed us all over for women who didn’t come close to this one. Under other circumstances, I might’ve taken my chances and slipped into the tub.

But they called her Temptress for a reason. I had to assume she was faking.

I pushed the door open further. An empty wine glass and an open bottle of pills sat on the tub’s marble ledge. I froze. She couldn’t be…

Not if she was taking my powers with her. I sucked in a too-loud breath.

Temptress’s eyes snapped open. Piercing blue, they glared fire. Like she was the victim.

“Where’s Steel?” I returned the glare and strode toward her. After two quick steps, power pressed against me. My forehead banged the invisible barrier. So she could do force fields. What other tricks was she hiding?

“Steel’s in police custody until he goes on trial for rape.”

“Rape?” Her words knocked me back. A trial? Temptress was a vigilante. “Who accused him?”

“That’s confiden—”

“Bullshit.” I thumped the wall. Steel liked his women willing. He’d never touch a girl who wasn’t interested. If he had, I’d kill him myself. “He’s my subordinate. Tell me.”