Belle Fury: Manhatten Ten, Book 3 (12 page)

I’d left my purse at the studio with my real shoes, so there was no point in going into the mini-mart. Ryan’s hoodie was all I had, and I was grateful for it. I collapsed on the curb next to the stack of propane tanks and tucked my knees inside the fabric. My exhaustion ran deeper than the bridge walk. When I thought I was free, I’d felt invigorated. Now I realized how much whatever Jenny did had taken it out of me.

No news vans here, but I pulled up my hood anyway. Last thing I needed was to get spotted. First thing I needed was a plan.

Going home was not an option. I’d need a job if I wanted to keep my apartment, but all I’d ever done was dance. Where could I work that would pay me enough to make rent?

Nowhere. Maybe three or four somewheres at once—a combination of Starbucks, cocktail waitressing, nannying and sleep deprivation—but it would take too much time to line up the jobs.

That penthouse I’d been promised was sounding better and better.

I was going to end up calling Ryan. He was the only solid thing I had.
 

Maybe he hadn’t told the whole truth, but after everything else he’d done for me, I could get over it. His mom might even hire me to teach at her studio.

I flicked away a mosquito. The powers were the problem.

I’d gotten rid of them so I could dance like before, but now I could only dance like an amateur. Was it better to be a graceful force of destruction or a clumsy beginner?

The idea of starting over…

I’d spent too many years getting where I was. It would take just as many to get back, and I wasn’t getting any younger. Even if I avoided injuries, my muscles would never be the same.

Couldn’t do it.

That left me two choices. Give up dance or give Jenny a call.

I certainly needed to talk to someone. Not Ryan just yet. I needed to be a little more composed so I wouldn’t be a bitch and screw over our relationship anymore.

The fact that I could
decide
whether or not I wanted super powers was my biggest hang up. My life was always a straight path toward one goal, and I’d made every choice that could get me where I wanted to be. As much as I needed to dance, I wasn’t sure what I’d do with powers.

A guy brushed past and almost bumped me off the curb on his way into the store. Rude.

But I
was
taking up space. If I wasn’t going to sleep in the chip aisle, I needed to do something.

Ivory or Angel. One of them could give me advice. There wasn’t a pay phone—if gas stations still had those—and I didn’t have change anyway. Maybe the manager would take pity on a ballerina hobo and let me use the store phone.

I strode through the automatic doors. “Do you have a…”

Gun.

The asshole who’d pushed me held his gun to the clerk’s face. He’d found a ski mask somewhere.

“Don’t you move!” He fixed the gun on me.

Cold clarity seeped through my limbs. I lifted my hands, but I wasn’t afraid. The guy’s beard poked out of his mask’s mouth hole. Who did that?

Because I wasn’t a threat, the robber jabbed his gun into the clerk’s chest. “Money now!”

The clerk fumbled at the register, struggling to open the door as his hands shook. If I had my powers, I could’ve obliterated the thief. Now I was a helpless girl in bloody ballet slippers.

Red flashed at the corner of my eye. Ruin?

No. He wasn’t coming to rescue me this time. Instead a bulletin flashed across the TV screen bolted the wall. And guess who was on the evening news?

“Excuse me, sir?” My hands were already up, so I pointed at the monitor. “You know I’m M-Ten, right?”

His eyes flicked to the TV and the headline couldn’t have been better.
Belle Fury—Crazed?
There I was on the screen, in the same outfit, looking like I was about to jump off a bridge. That was some street cred.

“I’m having a bad day.” I lowered my hands and jammed them in the hoodie’s front pocket. “Can we not get violent?”

The gun barrel leveled at my face. That wasn’t right. Shouldn’t he just run?

“Seriously.” I pointed a slippered toe. “I’m not chasing you in these. Go away and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

The clerk slid the bag of money across the counter, and the gunman jammed it in his jacket. Then he put both hands on the gun, steadying his shaking arm. “You try to stop me and I’ll do it.”

“Go ahead.” I stepped to the side. “I mean, go ahead and leave. I don’t really want to get shot at.”

He kept his gaze locked on mine, but my eyes weren’t the right place to look. Washed up or not, I was still pretty flexible. I caught his ankle with my toe and the gunman went down.

Bang. Bang.

One of the shots blew the bulb overhead. As sparks rained down, I wrestled the money away. He lost the gun and scrabbled backward, practically rolling out the door on his way into a sprint.

My pulse raced. That wasn’t so hard.
 

The clerk peeked out from under the counter, wide-eyed. I set the bag of money down. “Can I use your phone?”

“Ma’am…”

“Yeah?” I looked along the ceiling. Where did the other shot go? It was a good thing he’d miss—

Son of a sea biscuit.

A fountain of blood sprang from my arm. It was like that moment after stubbing a toe. With lots more blood. The pain hadn’t caught up yet. I pressed against the wound. “Really need to use your phone.”

He already had his cell out. “I’m calling 911.”

“How do you call the M-Ten, again?” I leaned over the counter and grabbed the landline. Blood dripped into the display packs of Orbit gum.

“Call 119.”

He started to talk to the operator, but I tuned him out. It took all of my concentration to punch the buttons and keep pressing against the blood. Good thing it was only three numbers.

“Manhattan Ten, what’s your emergency?”

“This is Belle. I want Ry—er—Red Ruin.”

“Hold please, Ms. Fury.”

Ms. Fury?
I cackled and the clerk shot me a look. Maybe I was losing it. Who cared? I just wanted to talk to Ryan one more time.

Red Ruin

I went back to the couch in my office, but managed not to pour another glass of Jack. Wasn’t in the mood anymore. The team had faith in me, and that was great, but I didn’t need more responsibility. I needed a vacation. Ideally one with Belle, a beach and a suitcase full of bikinis.

Guy could dream.

The phone rang, but it was too dark to read the caller-ID. I grabbed the receiver. “Yeah?”

“Ryan?”

I sat up so fast my lightning flashed. “Belle? Where are you?”

“Long Island.”

What the?
Why?
Didn’t matter. “Just come back.”

“That’s kind of why I called.” Static crackled on the line.
 

Maybe it was lightning flashing up and down my arm with the phone. “I’m sorry. Honestly. I wanted to keep you here, but not as a prisoner.”

“I know. I’m stubborn and you scare me, and I wouldn’t say that if not for…” Commotion sounded in the background.

“I’ll come get you.” I broke for the elevator. “Where exactly?”

“Hairless victory.” She cackled. “Tony told me that. Baldwin. Bald-win. Hairless victory. Get it?”

I stared at the phone. That was off for Belle. Sarcastic, yeah. But punny? “You sure you’re okay?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”
 

My lightning surged so hard I was going to bust the elevator. “I’m glad.”

“But the ambulance is here, so I have to go. Bye, Ryan.”

Ambulance?
“Belle? Belle!”

“She passed out.” A man spoke over the line. “We’re taking her to the hospital.”

“What. Happened.”
 

“Gunshot.”

And
click
.

My lightning stilled. What good were fucking super powers if they couldn’t save Belle? Where? And gunshot?
How
?

Screw that. All the resources we had? I’d find her.

Office workers tripped out of the way as I blew through the office like a human power transformer. Angel sat at her desk. Right there on one of her monitors, Belle stood on a bridge. How the hell did she get from there to Long Island?
 

Time to figure that out. “She’s hurt. Get on the police scanners and find out what happened.”

Angel clicked into frantic typist mode.
 

“Where’s Jenny?”

“Tank’s office.” She already had up the police radio. She’d get the info if Jenny couldn’t get it faster.

I didn’t knock.

Jenny sat in Tank’s lap, looking at something on the computer. His arm around her. All perfect couple and shit.

“No.” Tank already knew what was up.
 

“Yes.”
You both owe me
. I’d pretzeled myself to give them time together.

“Do I have to mind read too?” Jenny glanced between us.

“Belle’s hurt.” I met Jenny’s gaze. I needed her permission, not Tank’s. “I need you to teleport me there.”

“Of course.” She hopped off Tank’s lap. “Where? No. I’ll find her.” Her eyes glazed, but she swatted Tank’s arm. “Don’t distract me. It’s for a good cause.”

“If you get hurt—”

Jenny’s eyes focused enough to glare. “Belle is hurt. Don’t be selfish with your best friend. Especially when it’s not your decision.”

Knew I’d always liked her.

Sorry, brother
, Tank said.
Didn’t mean it like that. Go find her.

“Got her.” Jenny grabbed my hand. “This could be bumpy.”

Flash.

The motion of teleporting hit me in a split-second of trippy color and we popped into the back of an ambulance with sirens blaring. Jenny tipped into the EMT. “Motherf—!”

“Belle.” She lay on the stretcher, neck braced. So much blood. “What’s wrong with her?” I hoisted the EMT up by his shirt.

“R-red Ruin? How—” He blinked for a second before he remembered he was on the job. “Never mind. Gunshot. She’s lost a lot of blood, but not enough to be like this.”

“It’s because I took her powers.” Jenny hauled herself to her feet, but she wasn’t steady. “I couldn’t believe she stayed conscious, and she hasn’t been taking it easy since then.”

“Is she…in danger?” I couldn’t say it.

The EMT went back to work on her. “If you’ve got any super tricks, you’d better use them.”

“Her powers.” I steadied Jenny. “You have to.” If Belle didn’t want them, Jenny could reverse it. Right now we weren’t playing around.

“Just catch me after.” Jenny pushed the EMT aside and leaned in.

Something flashed, and Jenny went down. This time I caught her before she hit anything.

Belle’s eyes creaked open. I set Jenny down as gently as I could and grabbed Belle’s hand. “You’re okay. You’ll be fine.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, but her color started to return. I finally let myself breathe.
 

Chapter Twelve

Belle

“How does it look?”

The voice made my eyes creak open. Everything was white.

Ivory stood in the middle of a pool of fabric that matched her name. Her bodice laced up to a collar of diamonds.

It did not make sense.

“There she is.” Angel sashayed over in her pale blue mermaid dress. “The doctor said you’d be up soon.”

“I got shot.” I lay in a hospital bed, though I’d never been in a hospital with mahogany cabinets before. “Where’s Ryan?” I remembered him being there, holding my hand.

“You’re in our hospital wing, and Ryan is downstairs pretending to be a good groomsman.” Angel checked her phone. “Though he’s probably due for another attempt to sneak in.”

“You should put on your dress before he does.” Ivory set a garment bag at the foot of the bed. I sat up—my arm was stiff in its bandages, but it felt fine, really.
I
felt fine…at least until I unzipped the bag and a pale blue bridesmaid’s dress slipped out. “You put me
in
the wedding?”

“Of course.” Ivory had to lift up pounds of skirts to move closer to the bed. “Angel found one of your costumers. It’s perfectly tailored.”

“Can I?” I gestured to the bandage enveloping my arm. I had gotten shot and all. Pretty recently, if I was doing the math correctly.

“You’re cleared as long as you take it easy. We had a scare, but the transfer of energy healed you most of the way after Jenny returned your powers.” Angel smacked her forehead. “I should’ve told you that first.”

“It’s okay.” I would’ve asked for them back eventually. “Where
is
Jenny?” I needed to thank her.

“Herding the men into tuxedoes and limousines.” Angel helped me swing my feet over the side of the bed. “They’re worse than cats.”

“There’s no hurry.” Ivory patted my shoulder. She was probably the first bride in history to say those words. “We’ll help you dress.”