Black and White (36 page)

“Yo.”

“Derek, it’s Callie.”

Frostbite stopped chewing on whatever he was eating and inhaled sharply.

“Your call could really not come at a worse time. Do you have any idea what a shitstorm you’ve stirred?”

“Is Li’l Bitty Jettikins blaming her fresh bruises on me still?” She sighed in exasperation. “Would that I could slap the bitch as hard as that.”

“I assume you’ve heard that Night and the EC are panting on your heels. Talking about a full-scale raid on your Grid and the Rat Network.” Derek sighed. “Why do you have to be … you? They’re going to kill you, Iridium. Really, the best you can hope for when they come for you is a full lobotomy.”

Iridium ground her palm heel into her forehead and forced herself to keep her tone light. “Good thing I’m going to be having an iced mocha, then,” she said. “Safely above-ground.”

“Not following,” said Derek. In the background, Iridium could hear a flattie television, a man’s voice ringing out:
“Pop quiz, hotshot. There’s a bomb on the bus …”

“Derek the Dork,” she said with a smile, “are you watching Keanu Whatshisface again?”

Frostbite snorted. “So what? The man was brilliant. A true artist.”

“He’s a dead flattie actor whose most famous role consisted entirely of the word ‘Dude.’”

“Not true. Have you seen
Point Break?
Pure artistry!”

“Derek. I need to see you.”

“No way,” Frostbite said. “I can’t leave the complex. Ever since Shadow Princess got her knees scraped, we’re on lockdown except for the Squadron and their Runners.”

“So fake a stomachache or something.” She paused, then said, “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t life or death, Derek.”

He sighed. “Where?”

“Looptown Mall, one hour,” said Iridium. “In the food courts. I’ll be the one with the iced mocha.”

“This better be important, Iri.”

“Trust me,” she said. “It is.”

Frostbite was annoyingly punctual, his usual habit, and he dropped into the wire chair across from Iridium. “What? What is so Christo-damned important that I practically had to sneak away from my post?”

His hair was still blue, but Frostbite had grown lines around his eyes and mouth that made him look years older than twenty-three. His premature aging, plus the fact that he was royally pissed, didn’t make for a friendly combination.

Therefore, Iridium decided to make it short. “I’m going to hack Ops in three days’ time. I suggest you not be there when I do.”

Frostbite blinked at her. “Excuse me? You’re going to what now?”

“Ops. I’m cutting the umbilical, Derek. No more voices in your head.” She set her lips. “Without it, the heroes will have to fend for themselves. Oughta be a pretty bunch of chaos.”

He whistled. “I’d say so.”

She smiled, the thin one that she knew didn’t reach her eyes. “That bitch Jet won’t have the power of the mighty Corp to fall back on anymore.”

Frostbite’s shock was replaced with a sad look, his eyes far away. “You know, Callie, you should cut her some slack.”

Iridium cocked an eyebrow.
“Slack?
This coming from the only person who might possibly hate her more than I do?”

“I’m not saying that what happened between you two was right, by any stretch,” said Frostbite curtly. “But you haven’t been riding a desk at Corp for the past five years. You see things, when people consider you invisible and unimportant.” His mouth flattened with a bitter twist. “Believe me, Calista, Corp’s got something hanging over Jet. I don’t know what it is, but it’d have to be bad for her to be … well …”

“Herself?” said Iridium. “Please. Jet’s not happy unless she has a master to bring slippers and the newspaper.” She drained her coffee and stood up. “I’m hacking Ops, Derek. She needs a wake-up. They all do.”

“You’re serious,” Frostbite said.

“Duh.”

“Iridium,” he said, sounding for all the world like someone from the EC condemning her on the tele. “Have you really thought about this?”

“Have
you?”
she growled. “Fuck it, Derek, you’re still there. You’re still hanging around after what they tried to do to you.”

“‘Tried’ being the operative word. Obviously, it didn’t take.” He fidgeted in his chair. “I’m not like you, Iri.”

“Shocking revelation. Never would have guessed.”

He held up a hand. “Let me finish.”

She settled down.

“I can’t live like you do,” Derek said quietly. “Knowing that if I slipped, I could spend the rest of my life in a hole, closed off from everything. That if I let the Mind flunkies get inside my head again, I might not even
be
myself anymore.”

“Spare me the lecture,” said Iridium, kicking back her chair. “You won’t change my mind.”

“Good,” said Derek, meeting her gaze. “Because when you fuck Corp over, I want you to give the sons of bitches a kick for me.”

W
hat do you think you’re doing?” Jet gleeped and stepped back from her bedroom window, then turned to see Bruce in the doorway, arms crossed, his face set in a mask of righteous fury. Jet smiled sheepishly, said, “You’re back early. Should have taken you at least another half hour to run that errand.”

Bruce stormed over to her, glanced out the window and down to the street, and Jet knew she’d been busted. He growled, “Tell me you had nothing to do with the little old lady who’s smacking an unconscious gangbanger with her purse.”

“Um …”

“Jet …”

“What was I supposed to do, let her get mugged?” Light,
she was whining. Steeling her voice, she said, “It was just a little creeper. They didn’t even notice it.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, honey, you’re on bed rest for one more day.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me ‘honey.’”

Ignoring her outburst, he said, “Know what
bed rest
means? Your ass is supposed to be in that bed. Resting.”

Jet glared at him. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

“I sure as hell do. While you’re recuperating from
almost dying
, you’re in my care. And that means,” he added, his voice dripping with a combination of menace and compassion, “I take care of you. Now get back into bed, Jet.”

Pouting, she crossed her arms defiantly. Her Runner didn’t get to boss her around like this. Period. “I wasn’t going to let him rob her,” she said.

“Hate to break it to you, honey, but you’re not the only hero on the block. Or the entire Complex. Let them earn their paychecks.”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“And I said get back into bed.”

They glared at each other, and damn it all to Darkness, Jet couldn’t help but notice how bright his eyes were when they lit with passion.
I can’t be attracted to him
, she told herself as she scowled at him.
He’s an arrogant, demanding bear of a man.

Who looked so freaking sexy that it made her panties damp.

“Jet,” he said softly, his voice a low growl that did very maddening things to her, “so help me, if you don’t start behaving, I’m going to lace your food with so many sedatives that you won’t be able to get out of bed to go to the bathroom.”

Her eyes widened from the threat. “You’ll be the one changing bedpans, so I think that’s a lose-lose situation.”

“I’m willing to do some dirty work for you. And if you still don’t behave, I’m going to spank you.”

“You wouldn’t
dare!”

“Honey, there’s a lot that I’d dare for the right reason. Now, are you getting back into bed? Or do I drug you up and carry you there, then swat your ass?”

And he would too. Jet knew that from the sheer determination on his face. “You’re an insufferable bastard.”

“No. I’m your Runner. And until you’re given a clean bill of health, I’m also your caregiver. It’s my job, and I’m paid well to do it.” He pointed at her bed. “Get going, Jet.”

She frowned at him, then grudgingly complied. “It was just a creeper. Barely cost me any energy.”

“Any energy is too much energy.” He wagged a finger at her, scolding her like a child. “Unless you want all of Faith Healer’s work to unravel and get yourself grounded for the better part of two months while your shattered bones heal the old-fashioned way, you better stop pushing yourself too hard.”

“I should fire you.”

“Ah, you love me and you know it.”

“As soon as Terry gets back here for the evening shift,” she muttered, climbing into her hated bed, “I’m absolutely firing you.”

“You said that yesterday too. And yet when I showed up to relieve Terry this morning, you didn’t tell me you’d call Corp if I didn’t get out of your apartment.”

She ignored how his very proximity made her mind almost short out from lust. Voice curt, she said, “Maybe that’s just because I wanted to give you a chance to get another job first. Line yourself up as a Runner for someone else. Steele, maybe.”

“Want to know what I think?”

“Not particularly.”

He grinned. “I think it’s because you like that I don’t fawn all over you like the other Runners did. I think you like that I treat you like a normal person, not some goddess made flesh.”

At that, Jet grew quiet. When she didn’t object to Bruce settling the comforter around her, he said, “Did I hit a nerve?”

“A little,” she admitted. “But you’re only half-right. My Runners either adore me, or they’re terrified of me. I’m either the legendary Lady of Shadows, or I’m a freak that they can’t wait to get away from.”

“You’re not a freak.”

Her lips twitched. “Tell that to Everyman.”

“The Everyman Society can go suck it up their collective asses. You’re no freak, Jet. None of the extrahumans are.”

She blew out a frustrated sigh. Mentioning Everyman reminded her that Bruce hadn’t been able to reach Frostbite. And Night had proven equally uncommunicative. She hated being cut off.

Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. “You know, I can understand the adoration your Runners had.” His voice was soft, gentle. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you I was a huge fan. Have been ever since you stopped Crusher Jones from looting First National five years ago. I was there.”

“You were?”

“One of the many on the rubble of the floor, hoping that I wouldn’t be the one Crusher used as an example to all the cops outside.” He smiled grimly, and his eyes focused on something Jet couldn’t see. “He’d taken out the security guard with those meat hooks of his, and the main lobby was totaled. One of the tellers hadn’t moved fast enough, and he’d slammed the back of her head. I still hear the crunch, sometimes.”

“The sounds can be hard,” she said, “especially at night.” Especially in the dark.

Bruce’s eyes lit as his smile broadened, transforming his face from ruggedly handsome into something truly beautiful. “I remember the room growing cold, and the
shadows coming alive and wrapping Crusher like a present. And then you just appeared, stepping out of nothing, telling him he’s under arrest. And like that, the crisis was over.”

Jet remembered. It had been one of her first solo missions after graduating from Academy, becoming a full member of the Squadron. She’d refused a partner.

She’d never request a partner again. They inevitably left you—either they died, or they betrayed you.

“I was a kid,” she murmured. “Still wet behind the ears. Looking to prove myself to the Squadron.”

“You proved yourself to me that day.” He took her hand, squeezed. “You’re the reason I became interested in the Academy at all.”

She let out a startled laugh. “You became a Runner because of me?”

“Sort of. I had an interesting run-in with Night, and he pretty much got me the job.”

“Wow.” She tried to imagine what Bruce could have done to capture Night’s attention. “You must have really impressed him.”

He loosened his hold on her hand and slowly trailed his thumb over her palm. “Hey, I’m an impressive guy.”

“Among other things,” she said, her voice level to disguise how her heartbeat was rocketing. Light, if this is how he made her feel just by touching her hand, what would it be like if he touched her—

“And you’re a very impressive woman.”

“I’m a hero,” she murmured, feeling light-headed and tingly. Maybe she was having a relapse. Yes, that had to be it. She wasn’t healed at all … “Being a woman is secondary. Duty first. Always.”

He leaned in—so close now that she could barely breathe. “You’re off duty for two more days.”

“Yes …”

“So it’s time for the woman in you to get the attention she deserves.”

“Bruce …”

Then his lips were on hers, and her protest faded as she melted into his kiss.

When she woke two hours later, naked, her sheets rumpled, her body so very, very relaxed and a permagrin on her face, it was well after six o’clock. She heard someone moving around the apartment—humming a song. That had to be Terry; she liked to sing to the radio.

Bruce was long gone. But next to her pillow was a note:

   
If I’m not fired, I’ll see you tomorrow. Can’t wait.—B

Jet’s grin stretched even broader. She couldn’t wait, either. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

I
ridium fidgeted inside her canvas jumpsuit. Her psychiatrist suit was bad; this was unbearable. The blue jumper with the Chicago Power, Light, & Antigravity patches on the shoulders was dense and smelled like day-old roast-beef sandwiches, which, she guessed, its real owner consumed with some regularity.

Taser, wearing sunglasses and a bandanna over the lower half of his face, opened the junction box with his stolen tools and examined the wires. “Fuck. You know what any of these are?”