Super Trouble (4 page)

She
shrugged. “My fucked up life. But now I’m tough. For the first few months after
Demon dosed me, my powers were erratic. All over the freaking place. I lost my
job at the Sentinel after I accidentally chucked my editor’s desk through a
fourth floor window. I didn’t mean to, and I don’t think he wanted to fire me,
but it was the right call. I was a hazard to everyone around me until I got the
TK under control. But I’ve been practicing. I’m strong now. Ready to be a real
super. Or I was. Until tonight. What did you do to me?”

He’d
been silent for so long, his voice almost startled her. “I froze you.”

She
became aware of that slight chill again, tickling right at the base of her
skull. “Froze my powers, you mean.”

“Yeah.”

“But
they’ll come back?”

He
nodded. “As soon as I let go.”

“So
let go.”

The
smile was slight, but for stoic Frost it might as well have been busting his
cheeks wide open. “Can I trust you not to chuck me out a fourth floor window?”

“You’ll
never know until you try me.” She grinned. “Come on. Live dangerously.”

“That’s
never been my motto.”

“No,”
she acknowledged, briefly closing her eyes. “You’re more a save the world from
itself type.”

His
jaw locked. “I have certain responsibilities.”

“I
remember.” It was a familiar argument. She could probably have recited both
halves with no help from him, even if it had been five years since they’d gone
toe-to-toe about what it meant to be super.

Of
course, things were different now. She was super too. No longer the cub
reporter gazing up at the Big Bad Nightwing Enforcer like he hung the stars. She
hadn’t been surprised when he left her. Heartbroken, yes. Surprised, no. She
was powerless. She knew that was a dealbreaker for him. That she’d never be
good enough.

But
she wasn’t powerless now.

Or
she wouldn’t be as soon as he unfroze her damn TK.

“So
how has the rogue hunting biz been treating you?” she asked conversationally. Just
two old friends catching up.

He
shrugged, coming around to sit on the back of the couch so their legs almost
brushed. “Same old, same old.”

“And
your family?” She’d never met the infamous Nightwings when they were dating. A
fact that had always impressed on her exactly how little she meant to him. But
he’d spoken of them often and she’d gotten to know a few of them professionally
over the years, covering the superhero beat.

“They’re
good. Tandy’s in love and I haven’t wanted to beat her boyfriend to a bloody
pulp more than once or twice, so I’d consider that a win.”

“Eisenmann’s
a good guy.”

Frost
nodded. “And your folks?”

“Good.
Retired now. They’re in the process of selling the house and moving to
Arizona.”

He
nodded again, falling silent. And just like that they’d exhausted all the safe
topics. So much for small talk.

“Unfreeze
my powers, Frost. I’m not stupid enough to try anything when you can just
refreeze them whenever you choose.”

The
pale, pale blue of his eyes studied her. “Promise me you won’t stalk Little Vic
again.”

“I
promise.”

“Say
it.”

She
rolled her eyes. “I promise I won’t stalk Little Vic again.”
Tonight
.

He
frowned. Big Bad Frost, all ominous and glowery. Some things never changed. “Are
you lying to me?”

“That
is the most ridiculous question. Why would I tell you if I was?”

Her
name came out of his mouth on a frustrated groan, but she felt that icy
pressure at the back of her skull ease. Testing her power, she flicked out a
lick of TK, flipping off the light she’d left on in the kitchen so they were
left only in the pinkish glow from the lamp on the bookshelf.

God,
that felt good. Right. It was amazing how much a part of her the TK had become
in only a few short months. “Thank you.”

He
nodded, making no move to leave, thank God. A strange sort of truce hovered
between them and she wasn’t ready for it to end. Nor for him to walk out that
door again. Probably without so much as a note this time.

“This
is your only warning, Trouble.” The words were soft, without any trace of a
threat. “Stay away from Little Vic.”

“I’m
not going rogue. I don’t want to kill him. I don’t even really care about
revenge.”
Much
. “I just want answers.” And to put some healthy fear into
the little bug zapper so he passed the word along to all his buddies to stay
the hell away from her.

“Even
if he confesses, he can’t be tried again. Your answers won’t change anything.”

Kim
hesitated only a moment, weighing how much to tell him. She trusted Frost. That
wasn’t even a question. But so many people had given her that soft pitying look
whenever she started in with her so-called conspiracy theories. She’d learned
to keep her mouth shut, but that hadn’t impacted her certainty. Her
journalistic spidey-senses had been twitching for years now. There was a story
here. She was sure of it.

She
didn’t want to see that dismissive look in Frost’s winter blue eyes, but she
had to give him something or he’d never help her. She’d never been the kind of
girl who was daunted by risk—rushing toward the answers full tilt was more her
style, earning her the nickname Frost had assigned her when they first met—but
this risk was different. She wasn’t good at risking her heart and every
interaction with Frost carried shades of that, even five years after she’d
stopped mattering to him.

“Kim?”

She’d
been silent too long. “I think there was more to it than a simple kidnapping.”

****

The
weight she put behind the words warned him not to ignore them—this was the real
reason Kim couldn’t move on. “You think Little Vic had an ulterior motive for
kidnapping you and he’s… what? Just been waiting five years to get around to
activating his master plan?”

“He’s
already activated it.” She bounded out of the chair in a sudden burst of
energy, pacing around the tight confines of the living room and flicking the
massive recliner back into its usual position with a wave of her hand when it blocked
her path. “He’s a big star now. The Villain America Loves to Hate. And do you
know who paid for the first season of the show? An anonymous corporation. The
same anonymous corporation that paid for the top notch legal team that got him
acquitted. He was
rewarded
for kidnapping me. And he wasn’t the only
one.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Over
the years some of them have let things slip. Little things. They all acted like
I was a means to an end. They weren’t excited about kidnapping me. They were
excited about whatever they would get for it. One even said he would rather
have kidnapped someone else but it wasn’t his choice. Why would he say that if
someone else wasn’t pulling the strings? Justice put most of them in prison,
but the ones who got off are all rich and successful—and you can track the
origin of their success to something that happened to them immediately after
they kidnapped
me
.”

“You
think there’s some kind of bounty on your head? That young villains are being
paid to kidnap you? Why? If the man with all this money wants to hurt you, why
not just abduct you himself? And why reward the ones who just kidnap you? What’s
the purpose of that?”

“Why
not kill me, right? I wonder the same thing. But no one gets kidnapped
twenty-five times as a coincidence, Frost.”

“You
were dating Justice.”

“Lots
of girls date supers. Admittedly most of them are super themselves and can hold
their own, but not all of them and those girlfriends get kidnapped once, twice
at the most.”

“You’re
high profile. You write about the super beat, so they think they’ll get their
names in the paper by coming after you.”

“Which
might account for part of it, but
twenty-five
? Really? At first I
thought it was some sort of initiation ritual. That kidnapping me was an
entrance exam for some kind of super villain club. I thought the corporation
had to be some kind of coalition of bad guys.”

“And
now?”

“I
don’t know. It could be that. It could be one puppet master pulling strings
behind the scenes. Whatever it is, I want answers and Little Vic is the key. He
was the first. I need this, Frost. Just this one thing for myself.”

“Heroes
don’t work for themselves. That isn’t how it works. It isn’t vengeance or
vendettas that makes a super into a hero. It’s helping others.”

She
stopped her pacing in front of him, only a foot separating them. “You’re a
hero. You could help me.”

“Why
would I do that?” He said it dismissively, but she had him intrigued.

“Keep
me out of trouble. Satisfy that do-gooder gene that runs so dominantly in the
Nightwing DNA.” She moved another half-step closer, and he widened his knees to
make room for her between them. “No one takes my theories seriously,” she said,
her voice huskier as she gazed pleadingly into his eyes. “He ruined my life,
Frost. Made me a victim.”

“Sounds
like vengeance to me,” he murmured back, his own voice unaccountably gravelly. Suddenly
the low lighting carried a new intimacy, caressing the lines of her face and
making her—impossibly—even more beautiful.

Her
hands rose between them, brushing his chest butterfly-light before moving up
over his shoulders. She continued to hold his gaze. “You won’t even do it for
me?” she whispered, the low tone wrapping the net of desire that much tighter. “For
what we used to mean to each other? I’ve missed you, Frost.”

She
shuffled another step closer until his thighs pressed against her hips on
either side. Her fingers linked at the back of his neck and she leaned close, her
touch fire against his skin. He could see the rest of the moment playing out in
graphic detail. The first brush of her mouth. The fuse it would light—that cold
fire chain reaction of lust that only Kim incited. He could have her beneath
him on the couch in a heartbeat. Or pinned against the wall. The bedroom was
too far. They’d never make it there. Right here on the floor maybe, if his
knees gave out under that first blast of need. Unless she had the presence of
mind to use her TK to drag something beneath them.

It
would be good. So damn good. Blood rushed south, driven by the images flashing
vividly in his mind. She would ignite against him. He could see in her eyes
that she would be just as sweetly eager as his memories painted her.

Memories
he was itching to relive.

Chapter
Five: Advanced Negotiation

She
tipped her face up to his. She was close enough for the brown-sugar sweetness
of her scent to tease. Still using that same bodywash after all these years. What
else would be the same? The way she responded to him, so wild and demanding? He
could have her again, after all this time. Once more to banish her from his
thoughts forever—if such a thing was even possible.

Except
this time it would be because she wanted something from him.

Shit.
Frost wrapped
his hands around Kim’s upper arms and held her away, trying to send cooling
thoughts below his belt without much success. Five years hadn’t dulled the
memories of how good it could be between them. He needed to put the brakes on
as fast as possible. He made his tone purposefully brutal.

“You
think you’re the first superheroine to try to fuck me into compliance?”

Her
eyes widened and he waited for her hand to flash out in a second—well-deserved—slap,
but Kim never failed to surprise him. A spark kindled in her eyes and a slow
smile curved the mouth he could be kissing right now. “You just called me a
superheroine. No one’s ever called me that before.”

“Maybe
if you acted like one, more people would call you that.”

She
shrugged, leaning forward against his grip as if she was enjoying the feel of
his hands on her, her own falling to rest on his upper thighs—way too close to
the part of him that was still emphatically in favor of tumbling her beneath
him onto the couch. “It isn’t like there’s a superhero training academy or something
where I can go to learn how to be a do-gooder. The folks at Trident helped me
learn how to control my powers, but you know how those scientists are. They
work with as many villains as heroes and they’re Switzerland when it comes to
the morality of it. How’s a girl to learn all the rules of being a good guy? You
wanna teach me?”

The
last was a purr. Far too suggestive for his overactive libido.

“I’m
not a teacher.” He was a monster. The bogeyman.

God,
it would kill him to have to come after her. He
needed
her to be good. But
being good was all about rules and limits and he knew Kim. She had a tendency
to crash through any barriers when she wanted answers. It made her an excellent
reporter—but the job requirements for supers were different. They couldn’t
abuse their power.