Reaping Angels

  Screw what Angel said, fish were most definitely food.

  The surface of the water rippled above me. I broke through it and pushed myself out to a rocky outcropping.

  I took my time removing the wetsuit, knowing full that the Cruel Countess waited for me.

  She could wait a little longer.

  I stripped down to my boxer briefs and, grabbing my gear, headed to the end of the cave, where an armored door was embedded into the cavernous wall.

  The door swung open before I had a chance to enter the Cruel Countess’s code into the keypad. I entered the white hallway, feeling the pressure of being so far below the sea. No one milled around. There should’ve been guards and supervillains roaming this place.

  I headed over to the row of lockers and, when I found mine, I tossed my gear inside and grabbed the spare suit I’d left folded on the top shelf.

  “You were supposed to bring me the girl.”

  I rotated away from the locker. The Cruel Countess stood there, looking like a twenty-five year old vixen. In reality she was over three times that age. Just another power she’d siphoned away, this one to fuel her vanity.

  “And yet I didn’t,” I said, dropping my boxer briefs and pulling on my fresh clothes.

  She blatantly eyed me, hungry for what she couldn’t have. Envy ruled the Cruel Countess, and because she wouldn’t risk touching me and hurting herself, she could never own my power. And that, in turn, made her want me all the more.

  Her shoes clicked on the linoleum floor, her crimson dress dragging behind her. “You. Defied. Me.”

  I pulled my leather jacket on over my shirt, leaving the hood down. “I need Angel’s sister.”

  She raised her eyebrows, an amused smile blooming on her face. “Oh you do now?” She was legitimately curious. And that was the other thing about the Cruel Countess. The unexpected delighted her—intrigued her—even when it pissed her off. “But I thought you didn’t care whether she lived or died.”

  “I don’t.” I did. “Give her to me in whatever state you’d like.”

  She tapped a finger to her cheek. “Hmmm …” She eyed me for several seconds before snapping her fingers. In the next instant, several of her guards appeared at her side. I knew they didn’t have the ability to teleport, which meant she’d cloaked them. Sneaky.

  “Thrall,” she said to one of the female guards at her side, “tell me what the Executioner is hiding.”

  Thrall, the stealer of thoughts. She stared hard at me. I tried to block the intrusion, tried to seal my secrets from her, but it was pointless. I could feel her rifling through my thoughts, as memory after unbidden memory flittered through my mind.

  “He can touch the healer without killing her,” Thrall said.

  The Cruel Countess raised an eyebrow, appraising him once more. “Interesting.”

  “Their powers cancel out. When they touch, he can’t hurt her, she can’t heal him, and she cannot heal herself.”

  “Very interesting.” I could feel the Countess’s anger licking along my skin, yet she remained playful.

  “She’s on a boat heading for Miami,” Thrall said.

  The Cruel Countess’s lips made a moue. “Miami? You brought her all this way only to keep her from me?” She clucked her tongue. “That will cost you, Executioner.”

  My jaw clenched.

  Her eyes roved over me again. “Once I have her power, I’ll no longer have to hold back touching you.”

  I suppressed a shudder. Few people frightened me. She was one of them.

  “More,” the Cruel Countess demanded.

  “They’ve fucked,” Thrall said.

  The Cruel Countess’s eyes widened, her mouth forming an O. “Really now? Did you drug her, X, or simply force her while she was awake?”

  My hands fisted.

  “Consensual,” Thrall supplied.

  The Countess’s face hardened. “Thrall, get Tracker and find the girl.”

  I had to school my features to stop myself from reacting.

  Angel, you better be one fucking competent superhero.

  Thrall broke away from the group, her boots echoed on the tiled floor as she left the hall.

  “You defied me,” the Cruel Countess said. “Not once, but over and over again.”

  I leaned against the locker next to mine and folded my arms. “I did,” I agreed.

  She raised her arm and flicked her wrist. The motion lifted me off my feet and propelled me across the hallway. I slammed into the lockers bolted to the other wall. They buckled beneath me, their metal handles digging into my side.

  Another flick of her wrist and I was dragged back to her, my feet never touching the ground.

  “You thought you could steal the healer from me?” The walls hummed as her power vibrated through them. Water began dripping from the corners of the ceiling, and rivulets of it snaked down the walls.

  “Answer me!” she screamed, compulsion riding her voice.

  “Yes.” The answer ripped through me.

  Water continued to drip down the walls, pooling around the Cruel Countess.

  “How dare you!” Phantom fingers dug into my skin, slicing the flesh in a hundred different locations. Pain bloomed across my body.

  The Cruel Countess brought me right up to her face. “I could snap your neck right now.”

  I could feel it, the pressure constricting my windpipe, tugging my head to the side.

  “I could drown you this very instant.” At her words the water at the Countess’s feet slithered over to me. It crawled up my legs, dampening, then drying my pants as it moved higher and higher.

  I stared at the Countess, refusing to fight this, to show any reaction at all, even as the water snaked in through my nostrils and into my mouth. I began to choke as it dripped down my lungs.

  The Countess watched me, her anger abating as I struggled to breathe.

  “I could end you so quickly.” The water retreated from my lungs. “But you deserve worse.” Water and blood from my cuts dripped from my toes, puddling on the ground beneath me.

  She turned on her heal. “Come.”

  With a yank, my body was dragged forward once more.

  “How desperate must you be to come into my territory,” she mused. “Let me guess, Angel wanted you to retrieve her sister.”

  Another yank and I floated at her side. No better than a fucking marionette.

  “What a terrible, terrible situation. The first girl you can touch without hurting is going to die. And I’m going to make you watch.”

  Chapter 23

  Angel

  I stretched out, my limbs shaking as I did so. A smile tugged at the edges of my lips.

  Shouldn’t feel this happy. My sister is missing. The thought had my eyes snapping open.

  I heard the cry of a gull above me.

  A bird? But we’re out in open water …

  I sat up, rubbing my eyes, gathering the blankets to my chest. Blankets X had covered me with last night. Another grin slipped out.

  “X?” I called.

  No answer.

  I turned to the cockpit. No one manned it.

  Perhaps he’s below deck.

  “X?” I said again.

  The smile slipped.

  I grabbed my suit and yanked it on. Something wasn’t right.

  Had he returned to bed? I couldn’t be sure.

  I headed over to the helm and paused when I caught sight of the screen’s readout.

  “No …”

  I glanced up, and sure enough, in the distance I could make out Miami.

  My gaze returned to the mapped route, which cut across some mystery point X had inputted—likely the Cruel Countess’s lair—and continued on, leading back to the mainland. I stared at the screen for a long moment.

  I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. Anger—yes plenty of that. That bastard betrayed me. Confusion, because why? Why would he leave me to go alone?

  Then fear, so much fear, rose to the back of my throat. W
hat will happen to my sister? What will happen to X?

  My jaw clenched. Nothing. Nothing would happen to them so long as I drew in air.

  I sat down in the captain’s chair. I grew up in San Diego, and my father loved to take me fishing near the Coronado islands. I’d had enough exposure to his boat to get how they worked. This one wasn’t too different.

  Did X really think that I wouldn’t be able to override his flimsy plan?

  I reversed the GPS, redirecting the boat to its source. Quickly, I moved throughout the boat, taking inventory of the stacked gallons of gasoline. Heading back to the wheel, I checked the fuel remaining in the engine. The readout told me 23 percent remained.

  Not much.

  Perhaps not even enough to get back to the mainland, depending on wind resistance and the choppiness of the ocean. I turned the boat around and redirected my course to that speck out in open water.

  I caught sight of X’s cooler and the bottle opener lying next to it. Leaning down, I grabbed a Pacifico from the ice chest and popped it open. The sky lightened to the east.

  I took a swig of beer, then pushed the throttle forward.

  Fuck it, today was a decent enough day to die.

  I flipped on the boat’s sound system, then grabbed my cell, which I’d haphazardly tossed onto one of the seats.

  Thank God for satellite phones. I flipped through the caller ID until I stopped on a cartoon drawing of Lewis Carroll’s Mad Hatter. Before I had a chance to hit Send, my phone began to ring, and the Mad Hatter’s crazy face took up the screen.

  “Hey Madman,” I answered.

  “You’re going to die today.”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear, stared at it, then cradled it against my head once more. “You could’ve eased me into that one a little more gently.”

  “Honesty is the best policy.”

  “Ah, but the future changes.”

  “That it does,” he agreed.

  I squinted out at the sea. “How would you like to bring down the Cruel Countess?”

  “Angel, I am literally thirty-five steps ahead of you—oh, don’t shoot Dolly Parton.”

  “What?” Holding a conversation with the Madman often made me feel insane. I could only imagine what it was like to live in his head. “Hey, by the way, is Marc still safe?” I asked.

  “Marc sucks at Halo. Bring a better hostage next time.”

  I ducked into the small stateroom beneath the deck, looking for scuba gear. No such luck. The bastard never had a second dive suit. “Marc’s not a hostage. Is he safe?”

  “Define ‘safe.’”

  I groaned. I was going to be in deep if X saved my sister only to find out that something happened to Marc.

  “The gun is under one of the seats behind the captain’s chair.”

  “What gun?”

  “The one you’ll try to shoot Dolly with.”

  I eyed the semicircle of seats Madman spoke of. Hmmm.

  “The day toils on. Much ado, so little time. Get ready to rock.”

  “Right on, Maddy Baddy.” I clicked the phone off. On the horizon, I noticed a blip. A boat?

  I grabbed binoculars from one of the cockpit’s nearby compartments and peered through them. Definitely a boat, and it was coming straight for me.

  That can’t be good.

  I moved towards the seats Madman spoke of. Grasping the soft vinyl seat bottom, I lifted up.

  “Ho-ly Fukushima.” There wasn’t just a gun, there was a whole stash of them. And a rocket launcher. A loaded one.

  “Supervillains …” I muttered.

  I grabbed an M16 fitted with a scope and idled the engine.

  Bracing the assault rifle between my arms, I leaned over the seatbacks and watched the boat approach through the weapon’s lens. It could just be a fishing boat, or someone taking their yacht out for a spin. I hoped it was.

  But I doubted it.

  Just to be safe, I checked the magazine. Fully loaded.

  I shook my head. “Villains.”

  I didn’t have to lay in wait long. The boat hopped over waves, its bow bobbing in the water. I watched the riders in my scope. I could see three of them, all dressed in black fatigues and wearing the symbol of the Cruel Countess—a crest with two interlocked C’s held up by two dragons.

  How did they know where to find me?

  I lined up the sights and fired a warning shot.

  The three ducked, then immediately reached for the weapons holstered around their waists.

  X must’ve gotten caught. That or he betrayed me.

  I thought over the last few days. He could keep his emotions on lock down, but I could read the naked want on his face. The idea of being able to touch another without hurting them was stronger than any forced alliance.

  So, not betrayal then.

  A shot pinged against the side of the boat.

  I drew in a steadying breath. Lining up the sights once more, I aimed, then fired. One of the three went down. The other two gaped at their fallen comrade. While they did so, I fired again.

  The third dropped to one knee, and a shot rang out. A split second later, the bullet embedded itself into my shoulder.

  Mother of God. I collapsed onto the seat and clutched the wound. It had torn through the muscle of my rotator cuff. I knew as soon as my wound screamed anew that the bullet hadn’t exited my body. Yet.

  I gritted my teeth as the metal worked its way back through its entry point, scraping against bone as it dislodged itself.

  I so needed another beer for this.

  Another shot pinged against the side of the boat. The bastards were trying to sink me. They shot me and now they wanted to sink me. My famous anger welled up.

  I lifted the vinyl seats once more, ignoring the blood that dripped from my wound into the compartment. As I stared at the guns, my shoulder purged the bullet, and it clinked right next to the weapon I was looking for.

  “Hello lovely,” I said, grabbing the rocket launcher.

  They just pissed off the wrong woman.

  I propped the weapon up. I’d only ever used one of these once, and that ended with an exploded camper and seven angry superheroes. Here’s to hoping this turns out better.

  Ping, ping, ping. Bullets embedded themselves into the starboard side. The shooter must’ve caught sight of the rocket launcher since the firing sounded more frequent and frantic. I ignored him, lining up the sights and moving my aim to the back of the Cruel Countess’s boat, where the engine rested.

  “Sayonara, assholes.” I pulled the trigger.

  The kickback nearly threw me to the ground. The missile hissed across the waves, then—

  BOOM.

  The boat blew apart, shooting bits of fiberglass, people, and wooden beams into the air. The force of it sent a huge wave rocking against the boat, and I grabbed the seat for stability.

  Within seconds the entire thing was over. The enemy boat smoldered, its remains swallowed by water.

  I set the rocket launcher back into the compartment, then headed for the wheel, stretching out my previously injured shoulder. I cranked up the throttle and the music and resumed course, leaving behind all evidence of my anger.

  And that was why people didn’t piss me off. Because angels, sweet as we are, do from time to time …

  Fall.

  Chapter 24

  Angel

  I’d only resumed course for five minutes when another boat popped up on the horizon.

  I lowered my binoculars. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” It was like disturbing a beehive—once you pissed a few of them off, the rest were quick to avenge the slight.

  “It was just one boat.” And three supervillains, but what are details?

  I grabbed the M16 once more, watching this new boat approach.

  As they got closer, I lined up my sights and fired a warning shot. The boat didn’t slow.

  I got ready to fire again when it began to turn, giving me its starboard side. I squinted, my eyes passing over th
e vessel. My trigger finger froze as I caught sight of the boat’s name.

  Dolly Parton.

  I let out a shaky breath and set the gun aside. Don’t shoot Dolly Parton. That was what Madman had been referring to. A boat.

  I ran my hands through my hair, shaken by how close I’d come to shooting my friends.

  I idled the engine and waved my hands in the air. Dolly Parton circled me. When I didn’t shoot again, she closed in. I first caught sight of Zeus, his signature thunderbolt clutched tightly in his hand.

  Rocket lifted off the boat, flying over to me. I smiled up at him as he descended, landing several feet in front of me. “Seems like you’re a magnet for trouble these days,” he said. His eyes scanned the boat, pausing on the weapons.

  I huffed out a laugh. “You have no idea.”

  Rocket flew us to the Dolly Parton.

  “This time you only shot at us once. An improvement,” Madman said when we landed.

  I stepped out of Rocket’s arms. “What’s going on?”

  I hadn’t realized that when I’d called Madman, he’d already been on this side of the country. I took in the group—Rocket, Zeus, Zephyr, Cinder—short for Incindiary, the pyrotechnic of the group—and …

  “Chameleon?”

  My friends had the guy tied up. “This one tried to kidnap Marc,” Aries said, patting Chameleon on the shoulder. The man winced. “But it looks like the kidnapper got kidnapped.”

  Cinder approached the supervillain, her hips swaying in her red suit. She had that whole Jessica Rabbit thing working for her—great curves, sexy red hair, and sensual features. She was also one of L.A.S.D.’s deadliest superheroes, if the explosives that circled her waist were any indication. Her being here indicated that whatever happened today, it would be big.

  Cinder caressed Chameleon’s cheek. “We were just in the middle of discussing the location of Cruel Countess’s lair.”

  Chameleon eyed Cinder’s hands, and I could see the whites of his own. I guess she’d already had fun with him.

  “He’s going to lie, then get us all killed,” Madman said before Chameleon had a chance to reply.