He climbed up the staircase ahead of me. The stewardess standing up at the entrance kept her expression pleasant as he passed, but I saw her step away from him.
I followed him inside, my eyes widening as I took in the jet’s interior. “This is all yours?”
X busied himself with stowing our luggage. “I can’t exactly board a commercial airliner.”
No, I suppose he couldn’t.
“Sit,” the Executioner said, nodding to a table and set of seats that surrounded it. “We have much to discuss.”
I headed over and plopped down into one of the leather seats. Drumming my hands on the table between us, I said, “Hit me with it.”
X slid into the seat, and his attention moved from my face to my hands. He removed his jacket and shrugged off his gloves. Only once he’d set them aside did he begin to speak.
“How much do you know about the Cruel Countess?” he asked.
“Not much,” I admitted. Only that the witch had my sister.
“That’s what I thought.”
He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table. “Amongst supervillains we have a saying: it’s the ones you know the least that you should mind the most. There’s a reason no one knows anything about her, even though she controls organized crime along the eastern seaboard, the Gulf, and the Caribbean. People should be sprouting up all over the country with stories on her.”
The hair on my forearms rose. X reached out and ran his hand along my gooseflesh. The skin smoothed out under his touch.
Those dark eyes peered into mine. “Do you know what her ability is?”
I shook my head. Something in the Executioner’s gaze made my stomach plummet.
“She can steal others’ abilities.”
He gave me time to digest that. When it sank in, my blood ran cold.
The missing superheroes.
“How many has she stolen?”
“Dozens, maybe hundreds. She’s old, though you wouldn’t know it.”
“Hundreds?” I repeated weakly. The woman who held my sister might’ve siphoned away hundreds of powers. “What happens to her victims?”
The Executioner’s mouth pressed into a frown. It was all the answer I needed.
Death.
“And the stolen powers—how long can she use them for?” I asked.
“When she takes another’s ability, it’s for good.”
“So at this very moment she can wield—at will—every power she’s stolen.”
X’s jaw tightened. “Yes.”
An army contained in a single woman. And we were heading straight for her.
Chapter 18
Angel
Someone gently shook my shoulder. “Angel, we’re here.”
I blinked my bleary eyes, confused by my surroundings. The white leather, the cool, recycled air, the man bending over me.
Then my situation slammed into me. The Executioner. The Cruel Countess.
My sister.
I pushed off the blanket someone had draped over me and scrambled up. The Executioner wore the same grim expression I wore—minus the panic.
I had too much energy; my legs jittered with the need to run.
Have to save my sister. Have to save my sister. I took a deep breath. Careening headlong into battle was a great way to get killed, especially if the Cruel Countess was just as deadly as X made her out to be.
As soon as I stepped off the jet, a wave of humid heat hit me. Give it an hour, and this suit would proudly display rings of armpit sweat.
The Executioner followed behind me.
“Don’t tell me you have digs here?” I said, glancing over at him. We hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements. Normally when I traveled, I stayed with the city’s supernatural department, but with a stowaway like the Executioner, I highly doubted they’d offer up their guest rooms.
X slid on a pair of glasses underneath his hood. Overkill, if you asked me.
“Of course,” he said, watching a town car make its way towards us.
I would not be impressed by this man’s wealth. I would not.
Thirty minutes later the driver deposited us in front of the Executioner’s beachside mansion.
Okay, I was a little impressed.
“You are gawking at my house like men do breasts,” the Executioner noted once we’d exited the car.
I blinked rapidly, refocusing my attention on the man sitting next to me. “Like you’re one to talk about gawking,” I said.
He grunted, pulling a key out of his pocket and heading up the driveway. The sky blazed pinks and oranges as the sun set.
“You’re going to have to watch your step,” he said as I followed him up. “This house is also full of illusions.
I groaned. “Will you at least not lock me in the room this time?”
“So long as you don’t try to escape.”
Fat chance of that happening.
“I want food, then liquor, then bed. If you can give me those things, then I’m all yours.”
The Executioner swiveled away from the door, an eyebrow arched. His eyes smoldered as he took me in, and I realized too late what I’d just said. “Done.”
While X went to set down our things, I ruffled my hair and headed into the kitchen. Opening his freezer, I saw frozen vegetables, meat, ice cubes … and a bottle of Jack.
“Hello lovely. Come to mama,” I said, reaching in. I unscrewed the top and gulped down a healthy swig before the Executioner came up from behind me.
His body pressed in close, and his hand brushed along the skin of my arm before he reached around me and snagged the bottle from my grip.
He was getting bolder with his touches and I was noticing them more. Something had changed between us since I helped him hide his sibling and he decided to help me retrieve mine.
He eyed me as he took a swallow of the whiskey, then capped the thing.
He nodded to the stools on the other side of the room. “Sit down. I’ll make you a drink and a meal.”
I bit the side of my lip. “Okay …” What was I supposed to make of this man? I could hate him when he was a criminal, but this was a bit harder.
Does he realize just how vulnerable he’s been around me?
I slid into the seat as he began mixing me a drink, cutting up limes and squeezing them into two glasses. Then he chopped up mint and added it in.
“Who bought all the groceries?” I asked.
“One of my people,” he responded.
Another mindboggling part of this man. He couldn’t get close to others, but he had employees to see to his needs.
When he finished preparing the drink, he handed it over. I took it from him and pretended not to notice the slight tremor that worked through him when our fingers brushed.
“I still keep thinking I’m going to kill you every time I do that,” he said.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
He cracked a smile. “Good, I wouldn’t want to.”
We stared at each other for several seconds before I swallowed and lifted the drink to my lips. Anything to ignore the fact that my body was down to do the horizontal tango with his. Worse, I already knew he was game.
I took a sip of the drink he made, and my eyes widened. “That’s good. What is it?”
“A mojito—and a peace offering,” he said, pouring himself a shot of Jack.
I eyed him.
“I was hoping we could start over again.” He brought the Jack to his lips, and heaven help me, watching this man drink should not be as erotic as it was.
“Hmmm,” I said, taking another sip and considering him over the rim of the glass. “You tried to kill me, you kidnapped me, you threatened to kill my friends. Oh—” I snapped my fingers, “and you called me a psycho, which was just rude.” I drank a little more. “I’m not sure I’m ready to play nice with you.”
He worked his jaw, then nodded.
I waited for him to say more, but instead the Executioner pushed away from the counter
and began to pull out food. Not much of a talker, this one.
“You could try saying you’re sorry.”
He glanced up, his eyes flashing. “I’m not.”
Apparently that right there was a hot button. I’d really thought we’d begun to make a breakthrough too.
A muscle in his jaw jumped, and he turned his attention back to his work.
I watched him move around the kitchen. His hair hung over his face as he chopped vegetables, and my heartbeat sped up.
He caught me looking and his brows furrowed. “What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.” I glanced down at my drink. “What are you making?”
“Fish.”
I pursed my lips and tried not to scrunch my nose. “Fish are friends, not food.”
He looked at me like I was insane.
“You’ve never seen Finding Nemo?”
“Do I look like the kind of man that’s seen Finding Nemo?”
“Point taken.”
Once he finished preparing the fish, he slipped the fillets into the oven and leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest.
I swirled my drink around. “You like to cook?”
He shrugged a shoulder.
“Like to talk?”
He shrugged another shoulder.
“Wanna fuck?”
His head snapped to me.
“Oh, that’s a yes—maybe some other time.”
He growled and stalked over to me. Gripping the counter on either side of me, he leaned in. “You’d do well not to toy with me.”
And just like that, I ruined my panties. Only now was I discovering that I had a thing for bad guys. Or at least this one. And I thought Shadow was the one with the bad boy problem.
I reached up and tugged on one of the loose locks of hair that dangled in front of his face. “But you’re so fun to toy with.”
He caught my hand, but when his skin met mine, he hesitated to release it. Mere inches separated our faces. Just like before, his annoyance faded, replaced by a rising heat. This intense man was drowning in his own needs. To touch and be touched. I could see it written onto his face.
Like a wildfire, that need spread to me, burning, consuming until I could no longer fight it.
I don’t know who moved first, but suddenly his lips were hot on mine. His hands cupped my face, bunching my hair as he did so. He kissed me hard, feverishly, our mouths desperate for one another. His tongue found my own, caressing it.
I ran my palms down his sides, feeling that hard packed muscle. What I wouldn’t give to be closer to him. My hands glided over his hips, closing in on the top button of his pants.
His grip on me tightened.
Despite my words, we could do this right now. There was nothing stopping us except, except—
I broke off the kiss. “We need a plan,” I gasped out, leaning my forehead against him. “A plan to save my sister.” Even forgetting that, for a second, had guilt swamping my system.
X nodded against me, his hands reluctant to leave my hair. Finally, he backed away.
We stared at each other as he moved to the other side of the counter, putting a physical barrier between us. My body wept at the distance, at the lost opportunity.
“The Cruel Countess will be keeping her in the compound,” X said. “The first task is to get into the building itself. That won’t be an issue. What will be an issue is that there is no way to go in unnoticed. As soon as we get close, we’ll be monitored.”
I leaned my elbows on the counter and gazed at X’s lips, still distracted by the kiss. “We’ll have to pretend to turn ourselves in.”
X nodded. “Our biggest hurdle will be getting close enough to the Cruel Countess to kill her.”
How did one kill a supervillain that wielded a legion of powers? Especially when no one—hero or villain—had managed to do so up until now?
She’s always had the advantage. The odds must be evened.
“What happens once we get close enough?” I asked, still musing over my thoughts.
“I touch her.” A spark of excitement lit the Executioner’s features. This man has a score to settle.
“She’s not immune?”
He gave me a funny look. “She hasn’t stolen a healer’s powers. Yet.”
Hence our current situation.
“Why would someone like the Cruel Countess want my power? Seems odd.”
X took a long swallow of his Jack, then set it down. “She’s a sick fuck. Likes to torture people for the thrill of it. My best guess? She wants your power so that she can draw out her torture sessions.”
I drew lines on the frosted sides of my drink. “Is she … really that depraved?”
X leaned against the other side of the counter. “Yes.”
I pushed my drink away and stood. “We need to get my sister, X. Now.”
I strode towards the door having no idea where I was going but knowing that if I didn’t do something, I’d combust.
X jogged up behind me, caught my wrist, and spun me around. “Are you suicidal?” he demanded, his voice rising. “You can’t just waltz in there and demand your sister. You and she will both die. Painfully.”
“Well, I can’t do this, either.” Eat. Sleep. Waste time. I thought I could bear it, but the more I learned of the Cruel Countess, the more frantic I became.
“You must do this,” X insisted, “torture or not. We get one shot, Angel. One shot. You want to blow it because you got restless?”
I blinked back the moisture in my eyes. “But she’s my baby sister,” I pleaded, already knowing the truth of his words.
X took both my hands and pressed them together. “I know,” he said, squeezing my hands. “We will get her back,” he said. “Even if it kills me, we will get her back.”
Chapter 19
Executioner
Angel began to cry thick, sobbing tears.
I’m a fucking fool.
Promising this woman that I’d get her sister back to her. I’d been digging my own grave from the moment I’d decided I wouldn’t hand Angel over.
Even more horrifying, I didn’t regret any of it. I would rather die trying to save Angel’s sister than be the reason she lost her.
Pathetic.
I’d developed the dreaded savior complex so many superheroes had, and all it took was a little … hope.
I still held Angel’s hands in my own. Instead of pulling away from me, she leaned into my chest and buried her face into my shirt, her salty tears wetting the material.
My eyes had widened, like a horse spooked. This had never happened.
How does one deal with these creatures when they cry?
I knew what I did when I was upset—pounded my fists into flesh and exacted my revenge. And I’d already promised her revenge. She’d cried only after.
Perhaps another approach. What had I always longed for at my loneliest?
Touch. Connection.
Of course.
Fool.
Cautiously I brought my arms up and around Angel, waiting for the moment she’d push me away and tell me she didn’t want a monster touching her.
It never happened.
She’s in my arms. Accepting this. Accepting me. Ah, I could die like this.
Without thinking I leaned down and kissed the crown of her head, causing her to nestle even deeper into my chest, like she might burrow herself a home.
That was fine by me.
More than fine.
How the hell had I managed not to blow this already?
You will, X. Once she finds out your real plans, you will.
Angel
After my sobfest, X and I returned to the kitchen. I’d had his fish—delicious—and then I’d had his alcohol. Lots of his alcohol. Dulling my senses seemed to be the only way I wouldn’t do something stupid or brash.
Not that I stayed inebriated for any impressive length of time; my power purged the stuff out of my system as quickly as possible.
I le
aned back against the couch we’d moved to, which was two feet to the left of where its illusion was. I’d slung my legs over X’s lap, enjoying the brief panic in his eyes before he figured out what the appropriate reaction was. There was something innocent and alluring in that ignorance.
“So, what’s the story with you and the Cruel Countess?” I asked, wiggling my toes.
He swirled the tumbler of Jack in his hand. “She found my brother and used him to gain my cooperation.”
Know how that feels.
He took a deep breath and settled against the couch. He rubbed his mouth, his eyes growing distant. “The Cruel Countess had been trying to recruit me for a long time. Before I worked for her, I’d been a gun for hire. Believe it or not, it was almost always the good guys that hired me, usually to take out arms dealers, terrorists, and the like.”
One of his legs began to jiggle. “I struggled with my power, with the anger and resentment I held towards others, but I never killed innocents. Not until …”
The corners of his lips turned down. “When the Cruel Countess found out about my ability and my reputation, she wanted to hire me.” X shook his head. “Easiest refusal I’d ever made.”
This troubled man had fought his terrible ability; he’d tried to keep some shred of his humanity. It hurt to see that it had all been in vain.
“She kept coming back with bigger and bigger offers, until finally I told her, ‘There is no price high enough to change my mind.’” He gave a hollow laugh. “That was my first lesson on the Cruel Countess—that she loves a good challenge.
“To this day I don’t know how she’d found my brother. Only that she did. She sent me a stack of photos, all of Marc. Walking to class, grabbing food, in his bed asleep.”
X closed his eyes, his brow creasing at the memory. “She’d found my price.”
My legs stilled on his lap.
“For the last two years I never defied the Countess’s orders, never gave her a reason to bring my brother back into the fray.”
All those horrible things he’d done … he’d been protecting his little brother. He’d sacrificed the last of his morality to do so.