Super Bad (a Superlovin' novella) (8 page)

“Imprisoned without a
trial? Yes. I’d say we’re in the same category.”

“And yet you both
escaped your prisons.”

“Is that supposed to
justify it?”

“I met you inside a
bank vault. Protestations of innocence are a bit hard to swallow.”

“I never said I was
innocent. I have no problem admitting I’ve taken some things that didn’t belong
to me. I just said I didn’t get a trial by my peers.”

“I’m not sure you have
any.”

Mirage frowned, trying
to figure out if she’d just been insulted or complimented, as Julian dug into
his jeans pocket and pulled out a small black box.

“Recognize this?”

“Should I?”

“You went to quite a
bit of trouble to steal it, so yes, you should.”

“That’s it? That’s what
I broke in for?” Her fingertips itched. Maybe if she opened it she would
remember. If she touched it… She reached for the box, but Justice closed his
hand, the tiny box disappearing inside his grip.  “What’s in it?”

“Where were you the
last three days, Mirage? What kind of mission are you set on?”

Their arms were
touching and she felt an electric tingle pass from his flesh to hers, the
slightest little
push
toward truthfulness. But her memories stayed
shattered, disarrayed. She felt clear in her time with him. Sharp. But the
missing days were still missing. It was like everything that happened when he
wasn’t around was a fragmented dream and only when he was with her was she
awake, making memories, and living as her true self.

“Mirage?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Maybe next time.” The
hand holding the box disappeared back into his pocket and Mirage barely restrained
the urge to lunge after it, pry it open, expose whatever was hidden inside. She
would have, if she’d had any faith it would have been the key to unlocking her
truth, rather than another mismatched clue she had to figure out how to
explain. She was too drained for any more razor-edged puzzle pieces today.

“I’m sorry I pretended
to kill you.”

He snorted. “You should
be apologizing to the people whose minds you manipulated.”

She couldn’t meet his
eyes. Instead, she traced a pattern on the empty Coke can she hadn’t realized
she was still holding. She couldn’t tell him she didn’t feel sorry for what she
did to them. He wouldn’t understand that they weren’t real to her. That no one
felt real to her anymore except him. And perhaps Lucien. Yet another opinion
she couldn’t place. Was it hers? Or Kevin’s? In the past, had she been careful
with the minds of strangers or careless with them? How could she not even know
that simple fact about her own nature?

“Mirage?”

“I didn’t hurt them. I
didn’t actually
do
anything.”

“Psychological trauma
doesn’t count in your book?”

She twitched one
shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Some people like it.”

“Being traumatized?” he
asked incredulously.

“No, the illusion of
pain or fear. They say, if it doesn’t last long, the relief when the illusion
is released can be almost sexual. There have been studies. Your body doesn’t
experience any physical effects, if the illusion isn’t sustained for more than
sixty seconds. And the chemicals released in your brain when you realize it
wasn’t pain, but only the perception of it, create an insane high. Some people
will pay Benders to do it to them.”

Justice actually
blushed. “Have you ever…?”

“Whored out my ability
to mind-fuck people? No. Not unless you count Kevin.”

“He paid you?”

“No, but he was sort of
my Mind Bender pimp for a while there. I would do anything he asked of me.
Anything. Until I exploded like a cherry bomb inside his brain.”

“Are you sorry about
that? Destroying Kevin’s mind?”

“No.” Not sorry. Terrified.
She hadn’t done it on purpose. She’d been glad it had happened, wanted to rip
him to pieces without mercy, would have drawn and quartered him with her bare
hands if she’d had Lucien’s physical strength, but she hadn’t
consciously
done it. And that scared the shit out of her. Because what was to say she
wouldn’t do it again? To someone who deserved it less?

“But it’s wrong.”

She almost laughed. He
was so very Captain Justice in that moment. Right, wrong. Justice, injustice. Guilt,
innocence. He’d said truth wasn’t black and white, but apparently his morality
was. Hers was more…flexible.

What made a man like
him? What turned a boy into a hero? “I’ll bet you had a perfect childhood. Probably
made the Cleavers look scandalous.”

“Actually, my parents
weren’t around much.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Always another crime to
fight. They didn’t want me in school—too easy for a villain to kidnap me to use
against them. I had nannies and tutors, but they were so in awe of my parents,
and by extension me, that I never really felt close to any of them.”

She was struck again by
how keen his isolation must be. How much he’d been alone—and now she couldn’t
even write that feeling off by saying he had Kim now. Her chest ached and she
wanted to throw her arms around him, promise he would never have to be alone if
he didn’t want to…

But beside her, he was
frowning. “I don’t know why I told you that.”

The words were all the
reminder she needed that they weren’t friends. She didn’t have the right to his
confidences. Though she wanted to.

“It’s because I’m so
trustworthy,” she said dryly and Julian snorted. “I’m sorry I threw you. Or
whatever happened earlier.” She waved across the room at the dent he’d left in
the wall, with Lucien’s help. “I know my brain or something in there rejected
you—pretty forcefully—but I do feel clearer with you. Like when I’m with you,
I’m closer to myself. I
remember
...”

She looked at him then
and forgot what she was going to say. Forgot how to form words entirely. His
face was so close. His eyes—had she thought they were blue? Wrong. So wrong. There
was grey in them. And green. Even tiny little spikes of gold. They were so much
more than blue.

And the way those eyes
looked at her. He was the first one who hadn’t looked at her like she was nuts
in months. He
saw
her. Not the illusion of her. Never that. And God, did
she ever like that. She’d never realized how invisible she felt before, how
much her gift and her lack of sanity had washed away her visible self, until
Julian saw her.

She tried to breathe,
tried to think, but all she wanted to do was lean. Lean into him for a kiss,
lean on his strong, firm shoulder and find comfort there, just give up her need
to keep herself straight and fall.

But the last time she’d
fallen, there hadn’t been anyone there to catch her and she’d shattered. She
still couldn’t find all her pieces.

His gaze shifted to her
lips and he shifted toward her. Just that movement—barely an inch—made fear
crash hard through her system and she jerked back, haunted by old mistakes.

The connection broken,
Julian snapped to attention, looking straight ahead. “I should go.” He surged
to his feet, moving quickly for the door.

“Julian!” He was
leaving?
No
. For a moment that intense wanting was swallowed up by the
panic of her need. Would her mind just buckle when he left? Melt into confusion
again? She scrambled up, one hand braced on the wall. “Please, I… There are still
so many pieces of myself I can’t put together. I know I don’t have any right to
ask, but will you try again? Please?”

He stopped at the door,
his face hard, unsmiling, and utterly gorgeous. “Get some rest. We’ll try again
tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. She could
make it to tomorrow. She hoped.

He’d almost kissed her.
Somehow he didn’t think that was what Lucien had in mind when he entrusted his
baby sister to Julian. The last thing he needed was DemonSpawn Wroth out for
his blood. But
damn,
he’d wanted to kiss her.

Bad idea. Terrible
idea. He’d been broken up with Kim what, a week? Mirage deserved better than to
be the rebound girl. Emphasis on
girl
. God, she was young. Vulnerable. Trusting
him to help her. He could not take advantage of that trust.

Trust
.
Was that why his attempt to push her thoughts onto an honest path had failed? Usually
it didn’t matter if his subjects trusted him—on the rare occasions he used the
more forceful side of his gift, it just took concentration. But Mirage’s gift
was almost the flip side of his own—illusions and truth. Did she have to trust
him, to let him in, before he could help her? And if that was the case, how did
one earn the trust of a recovering villainess?

Somehow he doubted
kissing her was part of the process.

Julian strode down the
hallway, moving quickly toward the parking lot. He had no warning when Lucien
burst around the corner, moving faster than humanly possible, and grabbed his
shoulder, spinning him back toward the conference room. “Come on. We have to
get her out of here.”

He immediately shifted
into crisis mode, his mind sharp and clear, his body tensed and ready. “What’s
wrong? What’s happened?”

“The cops are here. The
Nightwings are pressing charges. Apparently they have footage of Mirabelle
breaking into one of their manufacturing plants two days ago.”

“She was caught on
camera?” he asked, chasing Lucien down the hall. The super had slowed to a
regular human speed, but Julian still had to work to keep up.

“She doesn’t physically
disappear when we can’t see her. A camera will still catch her—
if
it’s
running. Usually she links up with whoever controls the cameras and bends them
until they shut the cameras off before she goes in, but after she broke into
another Nightwing facility a few months back when Kevin was controlling her, they
updated all their security cameras with a failsafe. Any time a manual
controller shuts down the video feeds, an emergency back-up camera
automatically fires up. That’s what caught her this time.”

“They told you about
their security countermeasures?”

“Tandy Nightwing is one
of Darla’s best friends. She tipped us off that Mirabelle had been caught on
film breaking in, we just didn’t realize her parents were going to press
charges.”

“If she broke in there
before, maybe she’s just retracing her steps. Echoing old commands rather than
carrying out implanted ones.” Julian didn’t know if that was better or worse,
since her previous commands had nearly destroyed the city, but at least they
would know what they were dealing with then. “Is she revisiting other sites?”

“We don’t know all of
what she did while she was with Kevin, but we are certain she’d been in that
bank vault before. That’s what she was arrested for the first time.” Then
Lucien pushed through the door into the conference room where Mirage still
huddled in the corner, and all speculation on her motives was brushed aside to
make room for immediate action. “Belle, Code Red,” he barked, and Mirage surged
to her feet, almost running to the door.

“How much time do we
have?” she asked, all business as the siblings nearly plowed over Julian when
he was too slow to move out of the doorway.

It was more than a
little disturbing that their family had so much experience running out the back
door as the cops were coming in the front that they had a goddamn
code
for it. Christ, what had he gotten himself into? He was Captain
Justice
,
not Captain Jailbreak. He didn’t help people evade the law, he enforced it. So
why was he running
with
two known criminals rather than chasing after
them? And why did it feel so damn right to help Mirage escape? Aiding and
abetting. Dear God.

“Darla’s stalling them,
but that won’t last. We have fifteen minutes head start, if that.”

They burst into
Mirage’s room and, quicker than thought, Lucien snatched a packed duffle from
under her bed and tossed it at his sister. She caught it and slung it over her
shoulder without hesitation. Lucien nodded once, satisfied, and started back
toward the door, but Julian held out a hand, blocking the way. They needed to
slow things down. Think. Plan. “Where are you taking her?”

“My place will be the
first place they’ll look. We’ll go to Darla’s until she can meet us there and
fly us somewhere safe.”

“And if they find you
before Darla gets back? Or if they track her flight?”

“We’ll come up with
Plan B.”

“And if Mirage has
another break and vanishes on you? What then? How can you be sure you’ll be the
one to find her again? She could be in Area Nine before you even know she’s
gone.”

“Do you have a better
idea?” Lucien snapped, squaring off aggressively.

It was Mirage who
answered. “Maybe we should let them arrest me.”

Both men spun to stare
at her. “You can’t be serious.” That from Lucien, though the words might as
well have been pulled from Julian’s thoughts.