Lady Superior (36 page)

Kristen held the ring aloft for a long moment. There was no way she was going to let this woman run away with her identity. Not only could she cause untold harm with the stolen gift, she could do untold personal harm, too. It would only take one event to destroy Lady Superior’s reputation. Worse, what Nenet did to Emma—what she tried to do to Emma—was unforgivable. Kristen held her hand straight out, the ring dangling between two fingers. “Let’s make this interesting.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m going to drop it and let it lay right there. If you can get through me, grab it, and go, you have the ring
and
my gift. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Nenet flicked her wrist in a signal to her followers. The changelings broke off, falling back and disappearing into the maze of scrap. Nenet stood alone. She stared Kristen down and Kristen stared back.

I can do anything better than you
.

Kristen let the ring fall.

No, you can’t
.

Nenet dove for the ring with lightning speed. The tip of her finger grazed the metal.

Yes, I can.

Kristen grabbed Nenet around the waist and plucked her from the earth, slamming her backward in a suplex.

No, you can’t.

Nenet spun to her feet in the gravel. Kristen followed, but was driven back down by an elbow.

Yes, I can.

Kristen kicked Nenet’s legs out from under her and pounced. She wrapped her fingers around Nenet’s head, raised it up, and slammed it back down.

No, you can’t.

Nenet got a leg beneath Kristen and shoved her off, up and away from the ring. She kip-upped to her feet and ran for the ring. Diving again, she snatched it out of the dirt. Laughing like a woman gone mad, she slid the ring onto her finger and held her hand out. “This is the end, Kristen. You lose.”

Yes, I can. Yes, I can!

Kristen dusted herself off and slowly approached. “Go ahead. Bring on the earthquakes. Shake my city to the ground.”

Nenet splayed her fingers. Her eyes narrowed in concentration. Nothing happened. She sat upright and tried again. Nothing. Her form rippled, Kristen’s body darkening, elongating. Nenet sat in the dirt in her own body, urging the magic forth. Nothing.

Kristen struck like a cobra, a boot to the chest driving Nenet to the earth. She knelt beside the bloodied changeling and grinned. “It’s a fake. Did you even look at it? It doesn’t look anything like the real thing. Maybe you didn’t think you needed to look at it. Maybe you felt your goofy Mu-magic coming from it. Or maybe you were so eager to get your hands on it you didn’t even think.”

“To me!” Nenet cried in desperation. The changelings emerged from their hiding places. Kristen tilted her head to glare daggers. They no longer wore Emma’s face—they were themselves again, or rather the collection of human faces they’d used before. Once again they were armed, what few of them remained shouldering assault rifles. Not from the garage, Kristen guessed—the rubble remained as it was, piled atop Emma.
You’re fine
, Kristen told herself.
You’re perfectly fine, Emma
. They must have hidden spares.

“The problem with your human forms, princess? They’re squishy.”

Todd appeared among the changelings. His revolver thundered. The crack of a sniper rifle washed over the scrapyard. Changelings fell one after the other. Those still living tried to bring their guns to bear on Todd, but he moved in a flash, emptying all five rounds. In seconds, they were gone.

Kristen drew her fist back to deliver Nenet’s deathblow. Her fist struck dirt. Where Nenet had been, the fake ring spun in the dirt, and a white dove winged into the air. Kristen grabbed for it, but missed. In only seconds, the dove soared out of reach.

It burst into a cloud of feathers and dropped to the windshield of a distant truck, its body pinned beneath an arrow. The archer’s gift of silence broke and he stepped up beside Kristen. She stood upright and sighed. “Having creepy assassin pals is pretty nice, but I wish you guys would let me finish something myself for once.”

The archer buzzed. “There’s no
I
in team.”

“You decided to join my team after all, then?”

“I didn’t say that.” The archer turned and walked away. “You have my number. Call me if you need me.”

As the archer left, Jane crossed his path, jogging up the aisle. She shot him a curious look, but shook her head and dismissed it. “Sorry it took so long. I didn’t take the right keys. Had to break into your car for the ring.”

Kristen rolled her eyes. “Nice excuse. You didn’t want to throw down. That’s fine. You don’t have to lie about it.”

Jane flashed the ring in her palm, then pocketed it. “Did the fake work?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to explain how you got one?”

Kristen stooped down and picked up the fake. She flashed it in return, then stashed it away. “I stuck my finger through a coin. Go see if Todd needs help. I’m not done here.”

Jane tilted her head, but eventually gave up and jogged over to Todd, who sat nursing his jaw. Kristen ran past him and to the garage, hopping up onto a fallen brick and mortar column. The exhaustion crept back into her limbs the moment the arrow took Nenet out of the sky, but she urged it down for just a little longer. She shoved rubble aside, throwing bricks and machinery to either side of her, digging down into the wreckage. She dug, lifted, and tossed with a growing anxiety, wondering if she’d been wrong. Maybe it had been a trick. Maybe Emma wasn’t gifted. Maybe she’d overestimated the gift; could Emma shrug off bullets so easily? Could Emma heal at the same rate? Or was she lying dead in a pool of blood because Kristen dragged her feet to resolve a grudge?

She caught sight of Emma’s chestnut brown hair and dug faster. More bricks thrown, she saw Emma’s pajamas, her chair and her bindings, and finally freed her from the rubble. Kristen jumped down into the opening and knelt at Emma’s side. She brushed aside her sister’s hair and saw the black scorch marks from point blank gunfire at her temple. Drying blood caked the side of her face, but there was no wound—dark purple bruising, yes, but no wound. While the bullet had penetrated her skin, it seemed as though her skull had stopped it. The skin was already healing. Kristen brushed gentle fingers across Emma’s face, fear and anxiety refusing to release her heart. She didn’t fully understand her own capabilities yet—how could she understand Emma?

A sparkle caught Kristen’s eye and she flicked her gaze toward it. Not far from her, a mushroomed hollow-point round laid on the ground. Kristen broke into a smile and tapped Emma’s cheek. “Hey. Hey, wake up. Emma, it’s me.”

Emma wept, sobs wracking her body. She’d never been asleep.

Chapter 16

Kristen cleared out of Sam’s Salvage with Emma long before the police arrived on-scene. According to Jane via phone call, the authorities were too preoccupied with the earthquake to respond. Even the airport police force didn’t bother showing up until it was all over and Temple’s cleaners had been through. They’d feared a terrorist attack or, as Jane put it,
something like that
. The whole thing, garage destruction and all, was written off as troublemakers taking advantage of an emergency situation. Sam’s Salvage’s insurance would cover the damages. Probably.

Under a firm suggestion to lay low for a while, Kristen kept her head down. Immediately after taking Emma home, she fretted over her younger sister, insisting on cleaning her up and making sure she was warm, fed, and comfortable. Only when Emma asked her if she’d actually taken a look at herself had she realized the extent of the injuries. It seemed her body was covered in one, continuous bruise, and bullet holes peppered her torso. In twenty-four hours, the open wounds had vanished without scarring, and the bruises had faded to a sickly yellow easily hidden by Emma’s superior makeup skills. Kristen stayed home during the day, slept, recuperated, went to work Monday night, and was appreciative of an uneventful evening staring at security cameras. She took a nap at home Tuesday morning, and after making sure Emma was alright—Emma was content watching TV in her pajamas again—Kristen grabbed her purse and got back in her car, cranked up her playlist, and drove.

She pulled into the Otherworlds parking lot mid-afternoon. Bernice stood outside smoking a cigarette. Kristen parked, hopped out, and waved. “Hey.”

Bernice waved back, cigarette trailing smoke. “Hey. Wasn’t sure you’d make it today.”

“You kidding me?” Kristen took up a spot beside her and sat against the wall. “I have the most boring job in the world. I need something to read tonight.”

Bernice snorted. “Most boring job in the world, huh? Shit, that’s debatable. How’s Emma?”

Kristen shrugged. There was no spirit in her voice. “She’s good. She isn’t talking much, but she’s…good.”

“Cool.” Bernice ashed her cigarette. “I mean, it sucks that she’s not talking, but…damn, Kris. I’m glad she’s alive, you know? Going through that footage, that was intense. I don’t know what I’d do if we’d gotten that wrong.”

Kristen forced a smile. “You guys did good. I know none of you have dealt with anything like that before, and I’m sorry I had to pull you into it. But I needed help. And you guys came through. Thank you.”

Bernice dragged on her cigarette and stared off into nothing. When she looked back again, she jumped subjects. “That house I told you about? They stuck a Sold sign on it yesterday. Sucks. I was hoping you’d get it.”

“I did.”

“You did?”

“Well, I think I did.” Kristen blew out a breath. “Jane told me last night they’re fast-tracking it, whatever that means. Bank stuff.

“You don’t seem too excited about that.”

“I’ve never even seen the place. Well, I’ve probably seen it if it’s on your block, but I’ve never been in it. I’m going to own it before I’ve even opened the doors. It’s basically imaginary at this point, you know?”

“I’ve been in it. You’ll like it.”

“You think so?”

“Yup. It’s perfect for you.”

“How so?”

“You can put your stuff in it.” Bernice grinned. “And there’s plenty of places for you to leave your big-ass bras lying around.”

Kristen elbowed her in the ribs and jarred the cigarette from her fingers. Bernice elbowed back, bent to retrieve her cigarette, and took the last drag down to the filter. She snuffed it out and tossed it in the ashtray. “Come on inside. Jack’s in today.”

They stepped inside Otherworlds, and the first thing Kristen heard was Jack’s voice. “Oh, crap.”

Kristen eyed him. “Hello to you, too.”

He laughed from behind the front counter. “No, no. I just got off break. If I’d known you’d show up now, I’d have waited.”

Bernice squeezed Kristen’s arm. “When you two are done being nasty flirts, come back into my office.”

“Be there in a bit.” Kristen strolled toward Jack while Bernice split off to the back. Kristen flashed her winningest smile and leaned onto the counter, forearms flat atop it. “Haven’t heard from you since dinner. Change your mind about me?”

“Not a chance. It seemed like you had some personal stuff going on. I thought I’d give you some space.”

Kristen got up on her tiptoes to reach over the counter and plant a kiss on Jack’s cheek. “I appreciate it.”

Jack blushed and rubbed his cheek. He’d gotten rid of his stubble since their date, and his hair was a mop rather than his styled pompadour. His casual attire didn’t show off his body as well as his formal clothes, either, but Kristen still found him handsome. He coughed once, realizing he’d gone silent. “I’m just glad that questionnaire didn’t turn you off. I was thinking about it after I went home, and man, that was a bad idea. I’m embarrassed for myself.”

Kristen settled back onto her feet. “Don’t be. I mean, yeah it was awkward, but we were both awkward. Maybe next time we should keep it casual.”

Jack raised a palm up as if presenting something. “A movie and Martino’s, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s do that. I’m still working nights Monday through Thursday, but I’m free on weekends.” She tilted her head in consideration. “Or, if you’re up for it, maybe we could do breakfast sometime. It’s weird getting off of work when most people are waking up. It’d give me something to look forward to while I stare at black and white monitors for ten hours.”

“Why not both?” He shrugged. “Let’s do breakfast tomorrow, the other thing Friday night? Then if something comes up and we have to cancel, no problem. We still have one lined up.”

“Right on. It’s a date. It’s dates.”

“Did you want your pulls before you delve into Bernice’s dungeon of doom?”

“Oh, I didn’t have a chance to give Joel my list this week. I have to go grab them off the shelves like a peasant.”

Jack reached under the counter and extracted a pile of comics. He laid them out in front of Kristen. “I have you covered. I remembered what was on your list last week. Is that creepy? It isn’t creepy, is it?”

“It isn’t creepy while we’re dating. It’s creepy before we’re dating.” Kristen flipped through the titles. “Jack, you’re a hero.”

“Nah. I’m a dude with too much time on his hands.”

“Here’s the real test: can you give me my discount?”

Jack pursed his lips and stared at the comics. “Crap.”

Kristen reached over and clapped his shoulder. “I’ll see what Bernice wants, and she can ring me up on the way out.”

Deflated, Jack stashed the comics back under the counter. Kristen winked at him and wandered to the back room. Pushing through the door, she asked aloud, “What’s up?”

Bernice swiveled her desk chair to face her. “I have good news and bad news.”

Kristen stopped in her tracks and pulled the door closed behind her. “Bad news first.”

“Nope. Won’t make any sense out of order. I talked to Harry.”

“Who’s Harry?”

Bernice eyed her. “Harry Kleczka?”

“Never heard of him.”

Bernice grabbed a sheet of paper off of her desk, balled it up, and threw it at Kristen. “Yes, you have. He’s the one who owns the trademarks we want. He’s the Lady Superior guy.”