HeroRising (12 page)

“That’s cold letting your family be knocked around like
that,” Coulter muttered.

Marco grunted. Coulter had only been on his team a few
years. He had yet to build up his intolerance to the cruelties of humanity.
Marco wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

“Ah. Here we go,” Marco said as all the players on the
screen froze as one. Phong motioned to Tinh, who then moved out of camera
range. “Do we have any footage of the hallway or back door?”

“We have the alley but not the hallway,” Sanchez answered.

He nodded and bent lower to focus on the screen.

Both he and Coulter exhaled at once as their vigilante came
into view. The guy was huge. Compared to the others in the room he looked as if
he’d just stepped off the beanstalk. While Tinh and Phong blustered about like
chickens the hooded man was statue-still, almost as if he were a freeze frame
to their fast forward. One second he had been in the doorway and in the next
frame Tinh was on the floor and the stranger had Phong up against the broken
wall as if he were hanging a piece of artwork.

Marco straightened. “What happened? Why did the video skip?”

Sanchez smiled. “It didn’t.”

He raised a brow. “Are you telling me this guy moved ten
feet across the room in one second?”

“The video says it all. Look, I’ll even rewind and slow the
frames down.”

As each frame ticked by, yes indeed, The Hood had two men
incapacitated in less than ten clicks of the mouse. Marco would have thought
the feat impossible except he had seen someone move with that kind of speed
once before.

Well, I’ll be damned.

Life just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

“Hey,” Coulter whispered. “Doesn’t that remind—”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Burn me a copy, Sanchez, and include any
other footage with him on it from the other cameras.” He nodded and gestured
for Coulter to follow. “Let’s head to the hospital.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Coulter asked as he
slid into the driver’s seat.

“Probably. Let’s concentrate on finding the man first.” He
unwrapped another piece of gum and chewed in silence as he organized his
thoughts.

Going to talk to Phong and Nguyen was a mere formality in
his opinion. He doubted they’d have anything else to add to the investigation.
Even if they had seen the man’s face, he knew whoever was under the hood was
not easily traceable. The only way they were gonna find this vigilante was to
capture him in the act. Marco’s options were either have his team launch a
sting operation or track down the guy to where he lived and wait for him to
make a move.

Fortunately Marco had an idea of where to start, and the
hospital wasn’t it. But if he didn’t interview the two victims it would look
odd on the police report. No need to give Commander Asswipe a reason to poke
his nose into the case.

They made the visit to the hospital short and to the point
and an hour and a half later returned to the station. He sent Coulter on the
task of checking in with the other two members of their unit who were finishing
up a case indirectly tied to Smithwick while he presumably went to grab a quick
bite to eat. Instead of heading to the nearest coffee shop, he drove home and
to the privacy of his one-hundred-year-old craftsman.

The scent of lemon furniture polish tickled his nose as he
entered, reminding him it was Tuesday. Once a week his baby sister came over to
tidy up his house for extra spending money. Since he was rarely home, her
duties consisted of vacuuming and wiping down the flat surfaces. She refused to
do his laundry, but did make sure his kitchen was stocked with enough food for
the week. Without her premade meals at the ready, he’d probably be a hundred
pounds heavier from eating fast food seven days a week.

“Abby? Are you still here?” he called out and made his way
into the kitchen. A notecard with looping handwriting in purple pen was propped
against the coffeemaker.

Hey Bro,

I bought you a few salads. I expect them all to be eaten
by next week. Don’t make me hide the chocolate. I know where you stash it.

Love ya, Abby

He opened the refrigerator and took out a plastic carton and
read the label. “Kale? What the fuck is kale?”

Damn, now he was going to have to hide his candy bars.

He flung the carton back inside and snagged an apple and a bowl
of beef stew. As the seconds on the microwave whirled by, he crunched on the
fruit and paced across the tile floor as he contemplated just how to make his
next move. It wasn’t a matter of figuring out what had to be done but the
thought of taking action had his palms sweating and his heart beating a mile a
minute. Fuckin’ stupid, he knew. It was only a phone call. Really, how hard
could it be?

The timer dinged and he tossed the apple core into the
compost bin and went into his office, sitting hard into the chair behind the
desk. The bowl of lava that was his lunch needed time to cool anyway. Might as
well man up and do the deed now.

With a deep breath he scrolled through his contacts on his
phone until he found the one he sought and pressed the Call button with his
thumb. He tapped a drumbeat on the top of the desk as the phone rang, and rang,
and rang.

God, did he really want to leave a message?

The ringing stopped. “Sheriff Briggs.” The smoky answer went
into his ear and down his spine.

“Brett. It’s Marco,” he choked out.

Damn it. All these years later the woman still had the power
to tie him in knots.

The day they had met he thought the newest rookie from the
academy named Brett was a man. Shook the hell out of him when a blonde
bombshell walked into the room. Her confidence and no-nonsense demeanor was a
target for every man in the department to try to get under her blues, but she
never softened. Brett had been the hardest-working cop on the force and refused
to indulge in any interoffice love affairs.

But he had tried. Oh had he tried. Several times he had
attempted to get her to see him as a man and not a fellow uniform. The closest
she let him get to her was as a friend. Schmuck that he was, he accepted
whatever she offered just to be near her.

Then she moved away.

Inside that hard shell the girl was as soft as a marshmallow
and the years of ambivalent citizens and overly aggressive cops had taken their
toll on her sense of justice. So she moved to the country where she became a
sheriff. From what he had heard, she went and married some adrenaline-junkie
river rafter and was now living in freakin’ happyland. Good for her.

“Marco,” she exclaimed with a smile in her voice. “This is a
surprise. What’s going on?”

“The usual. Is all that fresh air making you long to return
to our smog-filled streets?”

“Oh yeah, not.” A high-pitched wail came over the receiver.
“Crap, just a second.”

Holy shit. Acid from his apple burned his tonsils. Did he
hear what he thought he heard?

“Sorry,” she said a moment later, a little breathless. “I’m
still getting the hang of this baby thing.”

“Are you babysitting?” he asked, though he knew the truth as
he stretched out the query.

“No. Didn’t you hear? I’m a mom now. Yay,” she finished in a
strangled cheer. “Believe me, I question my sanity at times too. She’s only two
months old, so she doesn’t do much but eat, sleep and poop, but I’ve been torn
in a thousand different directions and have no idea what’s going to happen when
I return to work. Kristos has been great, but I swear I’m screwing things up
big-time.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” The words stuck in his throat,
but it hurt him to hear her distress. “As long as I’ve known you, you never
once failed to achieve what you’ve set out to accomplish. You’re just a
perfectionist, Briggs.”

“I guess we’ll find out in twenty years. If she’s clean,
sober and rap-sheet free I guess I did a good job then, huh?”

“You couldn’t ask for much more. What’s the little rug rat’s
name?”

“Moira Rose.”

“That’s pretty, just like her mama. Bet she looks like you
too.” He took a breath and said half in jest, “So, I guess you leaving your
husband and running away with me is only a pipedream.”

“It always was, Marco. You know it never would have worked
out between us.”

“Guess we’ll never know for sure.” He cleared his throat.
“Anyway, back to why I called. There’s a guy running around the state carrying
a sword and tying up bad guys and he’s shown up in my jurisdiction. Have you
heard anything about that?”

There was a slight pause. “Yeah, I’ve heard some rumors.”

Uh-huh. “Well, we have footage of him in action. Funny thing
is, the way he moves reminds me of that fellow we helped out with last year.
Your friend, the Chameleon. Has he relocated to the city?”

“No, no, he still hangs out here in Cedar. Did your suspect
wear a uniform? Could you see his face?”

A tingle buzzed across his neck in warning. Brett might have
sounded all concerned and helpful, but she was hiding something. “No, we
couldn’t make out his features, and he wore street clothes. Let’s just get down
to brass tacks here, Brett. With all my years on the force I’ve seen some
strange shit, and your superhero friend ranks right up there on the top of that
list. I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as he did the night we tried to take
down Smithwick. Now I have some kind of copycat in my backyard with inhuman
speed carrying a similar weapon. Do you know who this guy is?”

“I’m sorry, Marco. I don’t.”

“He’s hurt people, Brett. Maybe even killed someone.”

“I’ve heard the stories.”

“Then give me something to go on. I know you must have some
sort of idea who this guy is. I don’t want to pull the friend card, but damn
it, I hope that our friendship would mean enough for you to lend me a hand. I
was there for you when your guy’s girlfriend was kidnapped. Don’t make me say
it.”

“I know, I owe you,” she snapped. “Let me put the baby down.
I’m about to swear and I don’t want her little brain to be damaged.” A moment
later she was back on the line. “Don’t be an asshole, Marco. And how dare you
throw our past into this. If I knew anything, I’d tell you, you little fucker.
Look, Cam is special, but he’s also very, very private, as you can imagine. We
all suspect that he’s not exactly local, but he has never confirmed or denied,
well, anything really. Since he doesn’t interfere in my business, I leave him
alone. I understand what you’re going through, I do, but I don’t have any
information.”

“What about him? Cam? Let me talk to him. What’s his
number?”

“I can’t give you that. As I said, he’s very private. But I
can send him a message and let him know you have questions. I can’t guarantee
he’ll talk, but I’ll make the effort.”

“Thanks, Brett.” It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was a
start. “And you’re going to be a great mom. You’ve got the ass-whooping thing
down pat.”

“Thanks. Take care, Marco. If I hear anything, I’ll let you
know.”

After a quick goodbye, he scarfed down his lukewarm lunch
and headed back to the station. All the information pertaining to the night he
met the Chameleon was still in his desk because that was also the night they
came the closest to capturing Smithwick. Brett may have been telling the truth
that she didn’t know who his hooded assailant was, but he’d bet his house the
Chameleon did.

Bale stood in the shadows outside Tutala and peered in
through the window like a stalker. Well, maybe he was a stalker, the way he’d
been trailing Ari around town the last week. The constant monitoring was
madness, he knew it, yet he could not let more than an hour go by without
making sure she was safe and happy. He half expected a track to be worn out in
the pavement between the apartment building and the restaurant, he vacillated
between locations so often.

Ever since her first day on the job she had been working
twelve-hour days, staying much later than required. From what he’d heard, she
was taking the responsibilities of her new position with the utmost
seriousness, which didn’t surprise him. The girl was proud and strong, so much
so it made his eyes water just to look at her. The determination he sensed in
her made him straighten his own posture as he watched her flutter around the
bar like a hummingbird.

A cloud formed on the windowpane from his breath as he
released a sigh filled with longing and denial. She was so beautiful in her new
pale-purple dress. The cut of the fabric was a maddening tease of professional
and sexy. The belt under her bust and the way the fabric clung to her hips
emphasized her femininity, but she was mistaken if she thought the modest neckline
made her appear proper. The stretch of cotton over her breasts drew the eye to
the soft mounds and made a man want to test their softness.

And he wasn’t the only one having such lascivious thoughts.
Several men tracked her movements like wolves stalking a wounded doe. She did
make a tempting treat, especially when she smiled and leaned over to talk to a
customer. To her credit she never encouraged unwanted advances, however, it
only took one asshole to misread her intentions and cause her harm, and that he
would never allow.

A pack of lechers occupying a corner booth brought a frown
to his face. Lust and liquor glittered in their eyes every time Ari passed by
their table. One of the fools was going to make a move on her, Bale was certain
of it. While other men had attempted to ask her out over the last few days, he
had seen Ari turn them all down with a smile and witty retort that effectively
stopped the conversation but maintained her professionalism. This time his
stomach rolled with impending doom that she wasn’t going to be as fortunate if
one of those fuckers made a move.

Bale straightened the lapels on his jacket and ran a hand
through his hair. Tutala was one of the city’s premier restaurants and
attracted the suit-and-tie crowd. In his jeans and hoodie he’d most definitely
draw attention, but his wardrobe could not be helped. What did it matter
anyway? His clothes were clean and free of holes, they were sufficient, even
for the task at hand.

He swept inside, past the grinning hostess and made a beeline
for Ari, who stood at the bar talking to the bartender. She did a double take
when he stopped mere feet away, her eyes widening in surprise before the corner
of her lip curled into a shy smile.

“Bale. Hi. Long time no see.” The smile fell and her brow crinkled.
“Wait. Why are you here? Is there something wrong?”

“No. I…” Damn, maybe he should have put some thought into
what he was going to say before charging in. Simplicity was probably the best
course of action. “It is late and I am here to escort you home.”

“Oh.” She issued a little laugh. “Thanks. That’s…nice of
you, but I do have my own car. I can make it back alone.”

“I understand, but I want to escort you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not ready to leave yet.”

“Why not? You’ve been working hard, every day. You deserve a
rest.”

“Have you been talking to Amaryllis? Did she send you? You
would think she would be happy to have an employee who liked to be at work.”

“No. I’ve come on my own. Ari, please. Let me escort you
home. It’s late and the streets are not safe.”

“So were you planning on following me home on your bike?”

Shit. “No. I walked here.”

“Oh,” she said again, but with a touch of disappointment
coloring her tone. “Bale, did you need a ride? Why didn’t you just say so?
Look, I do have tasks to finish, but you can wait if you want to.”

“Ari, no—damn it,” he muttered as she swept past him in a
cloud of hibiscus and coconuts and went to give directions to one of her
servers.

“Hey, Bale,” Ted the bartender greeted. The restaurant staff
had yet to learn about his reputation at the club and therefore treated him
with politeness. “Can I get you anything?”

“How about her undivided attention?”

“Ha, good one. That woman is constantly on the go. But I
like her. I hope she sticks around.”

He did too.

Bale pushed the thought aside and turned to go walk down the
hallway that led to the office. She had to be keeping her purse locked away in
there, and if he had the keys to her vehicle, she’d have to go with him.

Two steps was all he traveled when a tendril of disgust
slithered down his back. He whipped around and found Ari standing by the corner
table. Her posture was ramrod stiff and she barely restrained the sneer on her
lips. She inclined her head to one of the men, who was slapping the tabletop
with an open palm and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows as she issued an icy
good-night.

As she walked back toward the bar, she kept her gaze fixed
straight ahead and never faltered in her stride.

“Ari,” he said as she neared. “What did that man say to
you?”

Her eyes flickered in his direction and she shrugged.
“Nothing.”

“Do not lie. He did or said something to upset you. Tell
me.”

She sighed with a roll of her eyes and a pink flush streaked
across her cheeks. “It was nothing but juvenile banter. I’ve been working in bars
since I was eighteen. I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean that I like it, but I’m used
to it. Just let it go.”

“Ariel. What. Did. He. Say?” He lowered his head and gave
her his most intimidating glare.

With a small shake of her head she murmured, “He asked me if
the carpet matches the drapes. I told you. It was juvenile. Geez, Bale, you
don’t have to get so growly.”

He stopped her with a hand around her wrist. “What does that
phrase mean?”

“Ha ha. Funny.” She tried to push past him.

“What does it mean?”

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever not?”

The flush turned crimson and covered her face from hairline
down to the swell of her breasts. “Well I’m not telling you. Let it go, Bale.
It was stupid.”

She all but ran down the hall. Her embarrassment slammed
into his gut and wiggled up to squeeze around his chest as he felt his ears and
the back of his neck burn hot.

He rounded on Ted, who he noticed had been eavesdropping on
their exchange under the guise of wiping down the bar top. Leaning over the
counter, he snarled, “Explain what she said.”

Ted swallowed hard and uttered a shaky laugh. “I don’t think
I should.”

“Explain or else you will be eating that bar towel.”

“Ah. Yes, well, it’s an old joke about hair color. You know,
since women color their hair. Is the hair on her head the same color as the
hair…” He gestured around his groin.

Blood rushed in Bale’s ears and his vision darkened as he
comprehended the innuendo. Before he realized he had moved, he was across the
room and hauling the little prick from his seat. The pissant struggled as he
was lifted by his shirtfront, his feet flailing as he dangled above the floor.

“How dare you,” Bale spat into the terrified face, “treat a
fine female with such vulgarity? Tell me why I shouldn’t break you in two right
now.”

The man gurgled and squealed as he clawed at Bale’s fist.

“Answer me!”

“
Balellanos. Drakeros le bajo.
Commanedo
e ta aura.
”

From the corner of his eye he saw Amaryllis standing by his
side. Attired in a light-pink silk dress, she looked like a fairy princess as she
calmly demanded the human be set down.

“This pig degraded Ariel with his vulgar words and should
pay for his insults,” he responded in their native language.

“I see. Put him down, Bale. I will deal with the human.” Her
voice was calm and steady. A lion tamer calming the beast.

Bale’s fingers flexed and seams popped as the fabric
stretched under the pressure.

“Bale,” Amaryllis warned. “Ari is watching.”

Actually, the entire bar area was looking on, but his gaze
homed in on Ari, who stood across the room, her hands hung loose at her sides
and her eyes wide. Unbelievably he sensed no emotion rioting within her like he
did with the other patrons. Despite the bombardment of sentiments aimed in his
direction, she was a blank space in the storm. An unexpected response that made
him falter in his course of conduct.

With a snarl he tossed the human back into his seat and
focused on controlling the murderous rage coursing through his veins.

Amaryllis stood between him and his target. A pixie
defending the weak from the dragon. “My apologizes, gentlemen. I ask that you
forgive my dear friend. He is a firm believer that women should be treated as
treasures and not whores. Your meal is on the house tonight, so please enjoy,
for it is the last you shall receive in my establishment. Thank you, and I bid
you good night. Bale, come with me.”

He followed his princess back to Ari and felt the shame of
losing his temper sting his cheeks with a thousand needles as he realized the
spectacle he must have made before her employees. Would he do it again? In a
heartbeat, but that still didn’t make his actions right.

“Ari, why don’t you go on home?” Amaryllis smiled and
touched the girl on her arm. “You’ve done so well this week and I thank you,
but I also don’t expect you to devote all your time to the restaurant. Go rest
and I will see you tomorrow. Take your man with you. Make sure to see to all of
his needs.” She winked and walked into the kitchen after ordering a busboy to
attend to the ruffled party.

It took a herculean effort to lift his gaze to hers. “Ari. I
apologize if I embarrassed you in any way.”

She shook her head. “Let’s go,” she said in a quiet voice
that to him was as powerful as a shout.

Neither said another word as he followed her while she
retrieved her purse and coat, then led him to her vehicle. The silence
stretched during the drive home. A pressure that expanded and pressed on his
body, much like being submerged deep underwater. His empathetic powers should
have made reading her emotions an effortless endeavor, but all he sensed was a
deep sense of concentration. She was thinking hard about something, but damn if
he could tell what it was as he watched her from the corner of his eye.

With each passing second he pressed his lips tighter
together, refusing to ask what was on her mind. If her thoughts were positive,
then he didn’t want to ruin it by saying something stupid. If they were
negative, he didn’t want to know.

They arrived at the apartment building and Ari used her
keycard to gain entrance into the garage before coming to a stop near the
elevator. The closing slams of their car doors as they exited echoed across the
floor in a wave that mimicked the pounding of his hearts.

Inside the elevator she pressed the button for his floor and
the one for hers, and his stomach dropped. Was she really not going to say
anything? Even with his limited knowledge of human women, he realized this to
be an anomaly. Gods, how badly had he fucked up?

“Look, Bale,” she finally said and he practically wilted
with relief she had spoken. “I’m not quite sure what to say right now. Part of
me is glad that you put that little shit in his place, but you can’t go around
manhandling men like that. What if he called the cops or pulled a gun on you?”

“As if he could overtake me,” he scoffed before thinking.

“Bale!” She rounded on him.

“I am sorry.”

“My point is, I work in an industry where there are creepy
people. It comes with the territory and you have to build a thick skin. If I
needed backup, I would have asked for it. Don’t put yourself on the line like
that for me.”

“I am going to anyway.”

“Well stop it.”

“I can’t.”

“Well you’re gonna have to.”

“I will not!” He stalked forward, inching her backward until
the wall stopped her progress. “I cannot stop protecting you.”

Her eyes widened, the yellow flecks in the iris sparked as a
shudder shook her body, yet he sensed no fear of him as she whispered, “Why?”

“Because.” He paused to swallow. “Because…”

A thousand reasons why he should follow her wishes engaged
in a battle with the thousand why he refused to yield. There was no place in
his world for a female, even one as fiery and passionate as Ari. But the
thought of walking away made his stomach turn inside out with the familiar ache
of regret. There was so much in his life he wished he had done differently. Was
this moment to become another?

“Why, Bale?” Ari whispered again.

“Because I care about you. Your well-being means everything
to me.”

“Can’t you show it in a different way?”

He shook his head. “This is the only way I know how.”

No. That wasn’t entirely true.

He raised his hand and placed his palm against her cheek.
She stilled beneath his touch as his thumb brushed over her lips. Words were
never his strength, so he’d just have to communicate without them.

With the decision made, he struck. His lips covered hers,
stealing her breath as she gasped at his sudden movement. With a turn of his
head he pressed deeper, sweeping his tongue into the well of her mouth. Her
groan of pleasure vibrated down his torso to his tightening cock. At the touch of
her little hand against his chest, her fingers digging into his pecs, he lost
his mind.

Sliding his palm around to cup the nape of her neck, he
swept his other hand over her backside to lift her into the cradle of his
pelvis. In his arms she became a live wire, twisting and grinding her soft
curves into his hard planes as if she wanted to crawl under his skin.