Heels and Heroes

“Ahem,” a voice said, and Brenda jumped from him, gone so fast it was as if she had super speed. She left a cold emptiness in his arms when she fled.



“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m in a bit of a rush today. Bingo starts in an hour.”



“Of course, Mrs. Johns. I’m sorry.” Brenda’s face was so red that for a moment he thought there might be something really wrong with her, but as she helped the short, elderly woman behind the counter, her color returned to normal, and she slid into her professional visage. By the time she passed the receipt to the customer, her expression was hard.



“You need to go,” Brenda said, as Mrs. Johns disappeared around the corner.



“Brenda—”



“Look.” Her expression was still hard but her eyes were wide, panicked. “I need to close up here and fill a few prescriptions. I can’t do that with you distracting me.”



“But Howler—”



“Message me if you hear something.” She turned away and pulled the bars down over the front window, and then placed a paper “Closed” sign behind it.



“All right,” he said. “We’ll talk later.”



She didn’t reply, so he let himself out.



Chapter Three



Brenda kicked the covers off her feet and sighed. What a night. Thanks to Justice, sleep had been impossible. Why did he have to kiss her? Even worse, why had he told her those things? She was comfortable with the way she saw herself. She was good at her job, willing to help out when her minimal superpowers would suffice, and that was good enough. She had a better chance than most to be born with a great power, but instead…instead she was only good for filling out a uniform. She didn’t need delusions of grandeur put in her head by a man who had no idea what it was like to roam the world without powers.



What did he think he was doing? Zipping into her life and twisting her into a pretzel before leaving just as quickly, no doubt. And the kiss…God, the man could kiss. She could feel him now, lips soft on hers, testing, waiting for her to respond. And she’d responded all right.



Muttering an expletive, she smashed her fist into her pillow and reformed it into a slightly more comfortable lump.



She had just drifted off into a doze when her cell phone chirped. Not bothering to look at the number, she threw off the covers and grabbed what she’d mentally named her “practical” superhero outfit. Black pants and a matching jacket, she’d blend perfectly with Justice and his dark ensemble. The outfit was made with leather, along with something that felt similar to canvas, and lined in cotton. It was comfortable, thoroughly practical, and in her opinion, pretty damn boring, which is why she’d never worn it other than to try it on in the store. Even now it was difficult to admit to herself that she’d bought it just in case she ever needed to actually run around like a real superhero.



Lame.



Ignoring her thudding heart, Brenda moved to answer the pounding at her front door. Justice stood, framed perfectly in the doorway with the low lighting of the hallway hiding his expression, as enigmatic as only a superhero could be.



He didn’t say anything for a moment, and though she couldn’t see his face, shadowed as it was, she felt his gaze moving up and down her body, burning her as they took her in.



“Let’s go,” he said, and then without waiting for her, he pushed from the doorway and headed down the hall.



“No need to wait,” she muttered, giving the empty doorway an exasperated glare. She grabbed a hair tie from the coffee table, pulled her hair back into a quick ponytail and jogged to catch up. “Nice to see you were actually able to find my apartment tonight,” she called after him.



He ignored her comment, if he’d even heard her. By the time she’d caught up to him, he was at the top of the stairwell, at the opposite end of the hall from her door.



“So where are we going exactly? Another bank?”



“No, not a bank this time. He hit a store.” Justice didn’t slow his pace as he spoke, if anything, he seemed to speed up.



“A store? Why would he hit a store? I can’t think of a store that would have enough money in it to justify going there instead of a bank. What store?”



“A small mom-and-pop operation. But it’s not the store he was after, it was the mayor.”



“The mayor,” she echoed. She didn’t need him to explain why, but he did anyway.



“He’s asking the city of Chicago to cough up ten million dollars or he’ll kill him.”



“Ten million seems…low.”



Justice stopped at that and gaped at her. “It seems low? This misfit has kidnapped the damn mayor and that’s all you have to say about it?”



“Well, that’s not all I have to say about it.” She glared back at him and crossed her arms. “I’m not saying this isn’t a big deal or anything, I was just wondering why he didn’t ask for more.”



Justice opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut. He turned and headed down the stairs at an even faster pace than before. They hit the lobby before he spoke again.



“You’re right,” he said, and the words came out like they were dragged out with a winch. “It does seem low. But he’s new—Howler, I mean. Maybe he doesn’t realize how much he could have asked for.”



“Maybe…”



Justice grunted



The button on his key ring clicked as he unlocked the Porsche. Somewhere between the lobby and where he’d parked just down the street from her entrance—illegally, she noticed—Justice had hit an all-out run, and Brenda muttered a quick thanks to her treadmill for keeping her in shape so she wasn’t out of breath from the short jaunt. Just being around Justice after the kiss was awkward enough, huffing and gasping for breath while he stood there stoically would have made it worse.



As she slid into the seat, Justice slammed his door and then started talking. “Okay here’s the plan. We’ve got other heroes moving in to distract him while we get you into position. You’re to move in, block his power when he uses it on you. Get his attention—keep his eyes on you—and I’ll move in behind him.” He slid the Porsche into gear and pulled out into the street fast enough to knock her back in her seat.



“That’s it? That’s your plan? Justice, that isn’t a plan,” Brenda said, and then grabbed the door to keep from flying into the middle of the car during a sharp turn that he took at what felt like a hundred miles per hour. “Do you know the layout of the building? Is he armed?”



Justice glanced at her. “Armed? No, he’s not armed from what we can tell. What self-respecting super villain would run around armed? Might as well admit your power sucks if you do that.”



Brenda pursed her lips. She’d considered picking up a gun that very afternoon. Something small she could fit into her purse unnoticed. Backup, just in case. “Okay, so he’s not armed. Have you thought about paying the guy? I mean, ten mil probably doesn’t even touch what the mayor is insured for against for something like this.”



“You’re right, but he’s not going to stop with the mayor. If he gets money this way, he’ll just move onto bigger and richer prey.” His eye met hers for a brief second before he turned back to the road, but a second was long enough. He was worried.



She swallowed. If a hero like Justice was worried—no, she couldn’t think like that. She had to stay focused. “Okay.” Blinking lights came into view, police cars. They were getting close.



“I know the plan isn’t the best, but we’re working with what we have. You won’t be alone in there. Other superheroes are en route, some probably already around. I’ll be with you, too.” He slid to a stop behind a couple of police cars blocking the road. He slipped the transmission out of gear and cut the engine then turned to face her. “I won’t let him hurt you, Brenda.”



With those words vibrating in her head, she leaned forward as he bent and kissed her. It was quick, over in a flash, but shook her more than the idea of taking on a super villain.



Justice jumped out of the car and greeted the policeman guarding the scene before she wrangled her door open. The officer was in his forties and had sweat beading on his forehead visible through his military-short hair. He ran a hand through his almost-nonexistent hair and then waved them through.



Justice strode down the street, moving quickly, before he turned back and motioned her over. He hit a button on his cell phone as she shifted her weight, shooting glances up the street and back down the way they’d come. The way they were headed seemed darker. Shadows stretched so far they seemed to all coalesce into inky, impenetrable darkness.



“Okay,” Justice said into the phone. “Got it.” He clicked it shut and turned to face her. His brows were drawn together, but his voice was clear of worry.



“You’re going in the front,” he began, and then held up a hand to stop her interruption. “I know, it sounds nuts but your power is your element of surprise, not your presence. You go in with a briefcase they’ve placed near the door for you. Act like you’re paying the man. When he comes for it, be ready to power on. The other team members and I will be coming in behind him.”



“How will I know when to use my power?” she asked, wishing her voice wasn’t so frantic.



“You’ll know.” He gripped her shoulder in support. “Keep him distracted.”



“How am I supposed to distract him?”



“Follow your instincts, Bren. If they say to fight him, fight him. If you think he’ll be receptive to conversation, talk to him. Don’t let yourself get hurt. If you feel like it’s not going your way, run. That in itself might be just the distraction we need.” He frowned. “You are trained to fight, right?”



“Of course I am,” she said. All superheroes were. Just because she didn’t have the most impressive power in the world didn’t make her a slacker. She’d trained her butt off. Except, the instructors in pads and gloves hadn’t really wanted to hurt her, and who knew what this Howler was capable of?