Chapter 14 Zatanna
ZATANNA
The elevator jars, and for a split second my brain doesn’t even register what’s happening. Then the lights flicker and everything stops, air thick and silent. I freeze, heart slamming against my ribs.
No—no, no, no.
I can’t help it. I let out a sharp shriek, stumbling back until my shoulder hits the mirrored wall. The small space seems to close in on me, the air suddenly thin and stifling. My hands are shaking so badly I nearly drop my phone.
Aleksei is already moving toward me, but my fear overruns everything. I dart forward, crashing straight into his chest, desperate for something solid. My hands clutch at his jacket, my face pressed to his shirt as panic bubbles up, ragged and raw.
He’s tense, startled, but his arms come around me—steady, strong, warm. For a second I just cling to him, unable to pull away, sucking in quick, shallow breaths that do nothing to help. My heart races so hard it hurts.
“I—I can’t—” I stammer, my voice muffled. “I can’t do elevators. I can’t—”
He’s silent for a moment, then his hand cups the back of my head, grounding me. I feel the steady thud of his heart beneath my cheek, the deep, slow drag of his breath.
His arms don’t let go. The longer I cling to him, the more the panic dulls, replaced by the embarrassing realization that I’m trembling, and he knows it.
He keeps his voice low, words plain, unhurried. “It’s okay, it’s fine. You’re fine, I’m right here with you. The elevator isn’t moving anymore, the likeliness of our surviving is far more.”
I let out a shaky breath that’s half a laugh. “Is this your idea of comfort?”
He grunts. “Would you rather I talk about the weather?”
That makes me smile, against all odds. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
He looks down, his face that usual stone, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “I could try singing. But I’m warning you, that would scare you more than being stuck with me here.”
I’m not afraid of you, I want to say.
I try to be brave, but my voice shakes. “I hate this. I really hate small spaces.” I let out a brittle laugh, forcing myself to keep breathing. “It’s stupid, I know. I just—I get stuck and I can’t stop thinking about what happens if the doors never open again.”
Aleksei’s arms are around me, solid and warm. He tucks my head under his chin, rubbing slow circles on my back. “It’s not stupid.” His voice is steady, almost gentle. “You’re not alone. Look at me.”
I do, blinking up at him, struggling to keep it together. It’s darker in here than I realized, just a flickering strip of light overhead. My hands are shaking where they clutch his jacket.
“I had a panic attack once, when I was a kid,” I admit, the words tumbling out. “Got stuck in a closet for hours. My parents forgot about me. Since then—” I shrug, feeling small. “I know it’s irrational, but sometimes it just…takes over.”
He’s quiet, listening, thumb tracing along my jaw. “You can always tell me if you’re scared,” he murmurs. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I look into his eyes, so close, so dark in the shadowed elevator. “You promise?” I whisper, voice barely there.
He nods, brushing my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I promise. You’re okay,” he says again, voice low, his hands moving over my back. “It’ll start moving in a minute.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, embarrassed by how tightly I’m clinging to him. “I really, really hate elevators.”
He’s quiet for a beat, then, “I noticed.”
That makes me laugh, shaky but real, and I feel the tension start to loosen in my chest. “Sorry. Not exactly how I pictured ending my week.”
“Could be worse,” he says, sounding almost amused. “We could be stuck with Owen. He really likes to go off about spreadsheets.”
I let out a surprised snort, looking up at him. His mouth twitches, just a little, and for the first time I realize he might actually have a sense of humor buried under all that intensity.
“Is this your version of small talk?” I ask, voice still a little breathless.
His gaze softens, just a hint. “I don’t get much practice.”
“Maybe you should. It suits you.”
We’re close now—too close, really. I should step back, but his hand is still at my waist, warm and grounding. My head tips up, his leans down, and for a second all I can see are his eyes.
I laugh again, surprised by how easy it feels. “Well, you’re doing better than you think.”
He looks down at me, his eyes dark and searching, just a little softer than usual. “Is it working?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
I nod, breathless, caught between fear and something far sweeter.
“Good,” he says. “Because you’re not allowed to faint. I don’t know CPR.”
That makes me giggle again, nerves and relief swirling together. The moment stretches, both of us standing still as the silence hums between us.
I look up, and he’s right there. I can see the gold flecks in his eyes, the way his mouth quirks at the corner. The space between us disappears. My hand slips up to his chest, heart hammering, and he lowers his head, breath brushing my cheek.
Before I know what’s happening, our lips meet.
It’s gentle at first, his mouth warm and searching, the kiss sweet and impossible and everything I didn’t know I needed.
For a heartbeat, the world shrinks to this: his hands in my hair, the taste of him, the soft, desperate sound I make against his lips.
His hands grip my waist, strong and possessive, and suddenly he’s lifting me, pinning me between his body and the cool wall of the elevator.
I gasp against his mouth, fingers curling in his shirt, knees weak as he deepens the kiss.
He kisses me like he’s starving, like I’m the only thing he’s wanted for a very long time.
His tongue slides against mine, coaxing my lips open wider.
I can taste the heat of his need, the sharp edge of his hunger.
My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, skirt riding up my thighs as he holds me there, pressed tight to him.
His hand slides up my side, thumb brushing under the edge of my blouse, warm and rough on bare skin.
His other hand cups the back of my head, angling me so he can devour my mouth, bruising and perfect.
His hips press into me, making me dizzy with want, my body arching into his as I moan softly into his mouth. He groans in return, the sound low and primal, sending sparks straight to my core.
For a moment, nothing else exists, just his hands, his mouth, the wild rush of heat between my legs.
He breaks the kiss only to trail his lips along my jaw, down my neck, biting gently at the sensitive spot just below my ear. My head falls back, giving him more, breath ragged as he murmurs my name like it’s the only word he’s ever wanted to say.
The elevator is still, but inside me, everything is moving, spinning, burning. All I want is more.
“Zatanna,” he growls, voice thick and broken, “you have no idea what you do to me.”
I shudder, nails scraping at his shoulders, wanting more, needing more.
If the elevator never moves again, I think I could die happy—right here, in his arms, consumed by him.
But then the elevator floods with light and shudders to life. For one wild second, I’m suspended in Aleksei’s arms—his hands on my hips, his mouth still hungry on mine—before reality slams back, bright and merciless.
I jerk away, heart thundering, face burning with shock.
I catch my own reflection in the mirrored wall behind him: hair mussed, lips swollen, cheeks flushed a guilty red.
My blouse is wrinkled, his jacket is half off his shoulder, and I look exactly like a woman who’s just let herself be devoured by her boss.
“Oh my god,” I stammer, horror chasing the last of the adrenaline from my veins. The elevator doors slide open with a cheerful ding. Without looking back, I slip free from his grasp, practically stumbling over my own feet as I rush out, desperate for air, for distance, for a place to hide.
Behind me, Aleksei calls my name, but I don’t dare stop. I can still taste him on my lips, feel the heat of his hands on my body.
I don’t look back—not until I’m safe in the hallway, and even then, I don’t trust my legs not to give out beneath me.