I reached out to touch him, curious to see what reaction this would elicit.
The Executioner caught my wrist and almost dropped it before he remembered that I couldn’t be killed by his touch. “Too fast,” he said, closing his eyes.
“But you got to kiss me.”
He nodded, his nostrils flaring. His eyes were still closed. “That was too fast.”
Changing his tune now, was he?
The Executioner threaded his fingers through my own. “Goddamn,” he murmured, opening his eyes to stare at our entwined hands.
He was soaking up my touch, savoring it like it was something decadent. And so help me, I was charmed to my toes.
He’s a bad guy, Angel, not a neglected puppy.
But even as I thought it, a small voice whispered in my ear, Maybe he’s both.
Chapter 9
Executioner
Under the hot spray of the shower, I leaned my head against the wall, an arm covering my eyes. I slammed the side of my fist against the tile, cracking it.
I’d practically fled my own room after Angel tried to finish undressing me. Fled, like one of my victims. And why? Because I was getting exactly what I wanted, and I couldn’t fucking handle it. I was a masochist.
Not only that, but she’d been ready to steer me. Like that little thing knew more about seduction than I did.
Fuck, she probably did.
I slammed my hand into the tile again. Shards of glazed porcelain broke loose beneath my hand.
“Everything okay?” Angel’s muffled voice called from the other side of the door.
No. I’m coming apart for the first time in my life, and it’s your damn fault.
Instead, I glanced at my now bleeding hand. A piece of the tile must’ve nicked me.
The door clicked open, and I cursed. “I didn’t say you could enter.”
“And I didn’t ask,” came her tart reply.
“Get out,” I growled.
“Are you … modest?”
In response, I opened the shower door and leaned my body against it. “Does it look like I’m modest?”
Her eyes widened at the sight of me, and she cleared her throat. “Nope.”
“Get out of here.”
Her chin lifted, the expression surly. “If you wanted to keep me out, you should’ve locked the door.”
I ground my teeth together. It wasn’t a good time for her to be in my space, not when I was this confused and frustrated. Usually when I felt this way, I throttled the idiot who pissed me off.
Can’t do that to her—wouldn’t want to.
For her, I’d have to be a little more original.
I pushed away from the shower, letting water drip down my body and onto the floor as I approached her. Angel’s eyes skittered over me, and an unwilling smile drew the edges of her lips up. Until she caught a glimpse of my face.
Her smile slipped, and something like caution entered her features. Even as I tried to intimidate her, I didn’t want to see that expression on her face. I didn’t want her to be skittish around me.
So then, what did I want?
I backed her against the wall, crowding her for the second time since I’d taken her. “I am not someone to piss off,” I warned.
She smiled at that like I was cute, not intimidated at all by the threat or the lack of space.
“You can get back in the shower, Executioner,” she said. “I just want someone to talk to. You left me alone in your room all day.”
I had. “You can’t make me feel guilty about that,” I said, reluctantly stepping back in the shower. I didn’t know when I’d decided that she could stay in the room with me.
“Yeah, well, if you want to be my sugar daddy,” she said, “you’re going to have to get me clothes, books, my own personal TV—”
“So you can break it just like the last one?” I asked incredulously.
“If I wish to, yes. And I want it to have HBO, because that channel’s got all the good shows. And I want movies, and make-up, and shoes, and bags, and—”
“Woman, you are giving me a headache,” I said.
“My name is not ‘woman.’”
I rubbed my forehead. How did one deal with these creatures? “I will get you amenities.”
No wonder most men seemed fairly docile; their women had all browbeaten them into submission.
She made an approving sound.
“Eventually,” I added.
“Eventually my ass.”
I cracked my neck. “Last I noticed, you are the captive here.”
She yanked open the shower door. “Yeah, and if you want me to be anything other than just your captive,” she said, glancing downwards at my cock, “you’ll pick these things up for me A-S-A-P.”
Game. Set. Match.
Angel
The Executioner held his towel around his waist as he walked out of the shower.
“Well, are you going to make me breakfast, Romeo?” I asked him.
While he was off murdering people, I’d had to drink water from the bathroom sink. The bathroom sink! Not to mention the lack of food. My superpower burned through calories like it was nobody’s business, and I’d eaten nothing since he’d taken me. As far as gilded cages go, this one sucked balls.
The Executioner frowned at me, and I tried to ignore the way his damp hair curled around his temples. Giving his back to me, he dropped his towel.
I was unashamed to admit that I freely stared at his sculpted backside, and for one weak moment, I wondered what it would be like to be with a man like the Executioner.
While I wasn’t a fan of relationships, no one would call me sexually repressed. I served the good people of LA in more ways than one.
Boom. And you get an orgasm.
“Will you just give me a moment?” he growled.
“Give you a moment?” I said incredulously, heading over to him. “You had hundreds of them while you left me stranded here.” My stomach was cramping in on itself. “I want to eat. Now.”
The Executioner reached into his closet, pulling out a set of clothes, then slammed the door. Oh, and he ignored me completely.
“Aggravating woman,” the Executioner grumbled as he began slipping on his pants.
“‘Aggravating’?” I repeated, blinking at his form. “You think I’m aggravating?” My voice had gone shrill.
He grunted in response.
Maybe it was a sugar low or simply the hypocrisy of it all. Whatever it was, I was done playing nice. I stalked towards him, my fingers curling and uncurling.
The bastard was going down.
Chapter 10
Executioner
I had just slipped on my pants when Angel jumped onto my back like a spider monkey. I didn’t immediately react. After all, no one had ever attacked me like this. No one was that crazy. Or stupid.
Except for this broad.
Her forearm wrapped around my neck. “I will make you pay for that, Executioner.” She squeezed my neck with her arm, cutting off my blood circulation.
The little thing was trying to use a sleeper hold on me.
I grabbed her wrist to pry her off, but already my vision clouded. Damn, she was good at it too.
“You—are—a—psycho,” I wheezed.
And then the room went dark.
Angel
As soon as the Executioner’s legs folded under him, I jumped off his back and stared down at him.
You just pissed off the wrong girl, amigo.
I kicked him in the happy sacs, just to punctuate the thought.
When he groaned, I planted another swift kick to his head. I needed to make sure he was comatose while I gave as good as I got.
First I changed back into my suit, then I checked the door. Locked, again. I glanced back at my captor.
Crouching next to him, I hooked my arms under the Executioner’s and began to drag him towards the door. I hadn’t been able to leave this room, but he had.
Time to test a theory. That was, if
I could manage to move him into place.
“You … weigh more … than my grandma,” I grunted as I lugged him across the room. “And she was … no dainty thing.”
What was this guy made of? Lead?
When I reached the door, I wrapped one of the Executioner’s hands around the handle and turned it. The door swung open. Hallelujah! I dropped his arm and used his body as a doorjamb until I replaced it with a book from his nightstand.
I threaded my fingers over my head. One problem down. Now to drag this ho’s butt to the bed.
My biceps spasmed at the thought. I was so buying myself a chocolate banana milkshake from Swifty’s Dairy Delights once these shenanigans were over. And a corndog. Or a Slurpee. I deserved at least that for surviving this mess of a man.
Using all my straining muscles, I lugged the Executioner back across the room. I hefted him face-first onto his bed, and then, pushing his ass, nudged the rest of his body onto the mattress.
… I might’ve also copped a feel in the process. All I will say is, damn son. The guy had an excellent backside on him.
Fucking villains. They always had to be the sexy, single ones.
Once the Executioner was on his bed, I flipped his body over, my eyes lingering on his face. His dark lashes kissed the tops of his cheeks, and his mouth lost its cruel tilt. Unconscious, the Executioner was perhaps even more gorgeous than he was awake.
Or maybe it’s because he can’t open his big ol’ mouth and tell you that you’re aggravating or psychotic.
I made my way to his closet. From my earlier exploration I’d found his belt stash, and I’d plotted for exactly this situation. Though, to be honest, a tiny part of me was kind of hoping I’d get a little action before then.
A girl only gets propositioned by a supervillain so many times in her life.
I grabbed his entire collection of leather belts and made my way back to the bed.
We’d see just how much the Executioner liked me after this.
Executioner
When I came to, Angel was straddling my torso.
Too good to be real life. Must be a dream.
I heard Angel grunt and my shoulders yanked up. “You’re awake,” she said. “Just in time too.”
Not a dream, after all.
I squinted, my head beginning to pound. I tried to sit up just as she swung a leg off of me and found that I couldn’t move.
What in the hell?
I jerked my hands only to feel them resist my pull. I glanced up and noticed they’d been bound together above my head.
Angel let out another soft grunt, and my leg jerked. I looked back down my body and saw her tightening a leather belt that pinned my ankle to the corner of the bed.
“I am not the type of girl that gives out pity fucks,” she said, conversationally. “Sorry.”
“What is the meaning of this?” I shouted, kicking out and trying to sabotage her efforts.
She buckled the restraints in place. “Aww, is someone a little upset?” She pouted her lips.
I roared. “Unhand me, woman!”
And then she laughed in my face. “You self-satisfied, prideful prick. I’ll do no such thing.” She crept forward and knelt beside the bed. Propping her elbow on the mattress, she leaned her chin in her hand. “Tell me, how does it feel to be the imprisoned one?”
Anger pulsed through my veins. The last time I’d felt this helpless, I’d gone on a rampage. Did she not realize who she was dealing with?
Every vessel in my body strained against the bindings. I could hear the leather groan and the wooden frame begin to splinter as it gave under my force.
Angel stood and backed up, undaunted by the sound. She held up my keys, and I paused in my efforts. She must’ve plucked them right out of my pocket. “I’ll be going now,” she said.
My eyes flicked from the keys to her face. It was my turn to laugh. “You can’t get out of here,” I said arrogantly. “Not without me.” That was how Mirage’s illusions worked.
She leaned forward. “You forgot one thing.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, did I?”
Angel smiled. “I’m a fucking superhero. Bitch.”
Chapter 11
Angel
What to do, what to do.
I stalked back and forth across the Executioner’s living room. Since I’d delivered that exit line, dropped the metaphorical mike, and left the supervillain trapped in his own room, I hadn’t been able to figure out just how to leave this ridiculous mansion.
Nope. All I’d done was nurse a couple of nearly dead plants in the kitchen back to life. Oh, and close my eyes and savor the sound of the Executioner bellowing. Better than chocolate—and that was saying something.
But the longer I stalled, the more likely he was to break his bindings and hunt me down. I shivered. I didn’t want to be here when that happened.
I glanced at the front door again. I knew enough about villains to know this was the work of Mirage. As was the burning building the Executioner had baited me with.
The issue was, Mirage’s illusions were masterpieces. They were interactive and lifelike. But they couldn’t alter reality; they could only trick the mind.
I glanced at the car key in my hand. It was one of those smart car keys. The supervillain had a nice ride. Figures.
Problem—for him—was that you could lock and unlock a vehicle with one of these things even if a wall separated you from your car. And, if you hit it often enough, the car would beep.
I began to wander the house while clicking the unlock button. I paused when I heard the chirp of a horn. I tilted my head and listened. The sound came from a shadowy room down the hall.
I entered it and repeated the process until I heard the car beep again. This time the sound came from the back of the room.
Stepping up to the nearest wall, I placed my hand against its surface and began to pace the room, dragging my hand along it as I went. I cursed when it banged into what felt like a bookcase, and again when I almost knocked down a lamp. Stupid mirages.
Eventually my fingers ran into a lip. Skimming both hands over the area I felt the edges of some kind of molding that the mirage covered up. The door!
I searched around until my hand bumped into the doorknob.
“Gotcha,” I whispered.
I’d found my way out.
Executioner
I had almost broken free of my bonds when I heard the roar of an engine. My car’s engine.
Angel was escaping and hijacking my car.
If I was going to get out of these damn bindings I’d have to do it now. I strained my muscles, clenching my jaw as the leather groaned.
I shouted as the belts dug into my skin. She couldn’t get away. Not when I’d just found her. Not when the Cruel Countess was hunting her down. The wood creaked and splintered under my force.
No retribution. I’d set aside my anger so long as I got her back. But I would get her back.
Just a bit more pressure.
My teeth scraped together and sweat beaded along my forehead. All at once the bed’s wooden frame let out a screech, and then it collapsed in on itself.
Free.
Angel
I nervously chewed on a thumbnail as I drove the Executioner’s black Lotus down the windy Malibu hills, finally recognizing my surroundings. We hadn’t left L.A., which meant I could get back to Madcap Mansion soon.
As for the Executioner, I’d left him tied up in his room, but now I had some real decisions to make.
He was too dangerous to be allowed to live. I slowed the car. I should go back and finish this—terminate a threat.
I pulled onto the shoulder of the road and put a hand to my forehead. Trying to detain him was pointless. History had already taught the world what would happen when you tried to incarcerate a bad guy too powerful to be stopped. The end result had always been the same: massive prison breaks and lots of casualties.
I’d need to kill him or convince him to change his ways.
/>
I swallowed. I really didn’t want to kill him, and I wasn’t completely sure why. I’d taken out other bad guys in the line of duty, bad guys whose crimes paled in comparison to those of the Executioner.
Maybe he reminded me a little too much of those at-risk kids, only he’d never been saved. With a power like his, he’d probably been doomed from the very start. A victim who’d never been saved—never even gotten the chance.
I could be that chance. Was it too late to go back to him?
A car curved around the corner ahead of me, and I shielded my eyes as its headlights obscured my vision. I heard the purr of the car’s V8 engine and the blasted lyrics of “Baby Got Back.”
It slammed to a stop in front of me, and someone jumped out. I squinted. Wait …
“Aries?” And now that I got a better look, was that vehicle the Red Rider?
Aries crossed over to my car and opened the door.
“What the … ?”
“Sorry babe, but I’m only doing Madman’s bidding.”
I furrowed my brows. “Madman … ?”
Madman leaned out of the backseat of the car. “That’s your cue, Aries.”
My eyes widened with understanding just as Aries’s fist slammed into my face.
Chapter 12
Angel
“’Da fuck?” I asked, blinking as I came to.
Sir Mix-a-Lot was still playing from the stereo, the bass thumping and making my head pound. A man’s arms wrapped around my waist, and my back rested against his torso.
I glanced up. Aries was watching me, his expression apologetic, as the car roared down the road.
“Why the hell did you punch me?”
He shrugged. “Madman told me to.”
I felt a pat on my knee, and I glanced over. Madman smiled, his eyes far away.
“What’s going on?” I tried to push away from Aries, but his hold only tightened.