2. Chapter 2 #2
“I have good news there,” Danzig said. “I’m already halfway home. I’m about to catch my second flight so I’ll be home late tonight.”
“That almost makes up for telling Mom,” I said
A message came through the app from Bec.
TheNewMe888
I have to do some stuff. TTYL.
No sooner did that appear on my screen then Bec’s car was starting up. I secured my phone into the holder on my handlebars. “She’s on the move. Talk to you later.”
“Keep yourself and her safe,” Danzig ordered and ended the call.
I’ll do my damnedest, I thought.
I started up my bike, heeled up the kickstand, and toed it into first gear. I let her get a few blocks ahead before I eased out of my spot and followed.
We didn’t go far. About a mile down the road, she pulled into a gas station and parked near the front door. I veered quickly and found a spot with a view of the store windows but where I’d be blocked by a minivan when she exited.
I shut off the engine but kept my helmet on. I didn’t think Bec knew about my bike, so this was a good way to stay anonymous as long as I didn’t make myself too obvious.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t see much inside the store from the windows. They were mostly covered in advertisements, leaving only a small section of the place visible.
She was taking a while, but maybe she couldn’t decide what chips she wanted. Then I saw a display stand topple over.
It could be a clumsy shopper, but I doubted it. It was time to venture inside and hope it was nothing.
Bec
It turned out that stakeouts were boring as hell. At first, I took notes on everyone I saw entering and leaving the apartment complex. I recorded license plates and thought about buying a camera with a zoom lens.
After about an hour of that, I was tired of taking down useless information. I didn’t see the stoner guy leave and there was no sight of Leif or Hugo. I recited laws in my head, studying from memory and looking things up on my phone when I couldn’t remember them.
Then the guys had started messaging me through PixUs and things became much more entertaining.
Danzig was always quick to message me back and sometimes he’d have to message three or four times in a row to explain the first message because he’d hit send before reading it.
Marduk’s messages were always comprehensible complete sentences with perfect grammar and were often followed up with explanations.
I enjoyed both types and had fun switching between users. I knew this distraction wasn’t going to do my stakeout any good but I was having too much fun chatting with the twins. Especially because they had all kinds of random fun questions. They also answered my questions without hesitation.
It felt like a safe way to get to know each other.
Two hours flew by. I could’ve remained parked here and messaging with them for hours longer, but my bladder was full and ready to burst.
Ending the conversations, I looked up the nearest gas station, relieved to find one was close. The drive there only took a few minutes and I rushed inside, grateful to find that they had a bathroom I could use. It was reasonably clean.
Washing my hands after I was done, I thought about the results of my stakeout. I might’ve had fun, but I hadn’t gotten anywhere. I was going to have to come up with another way to find Leif. Should I ask Jim for advice, or would he tell me to give up?
I was distracted by that question, so when I stepped out of the tiny gas station bathroom, I didn’t notice the guy with the gun right away. I was almost behind him when I realized what was going on.
The woman behind the counter was wide-eyed but mostly calm as she emptied out her cash register, then started dumping packs of cigarettes from the rack behind her into a bag.
The door leading outside was right next to me, but I didn’t run.
No way was I going to let this guy get away with this! This was the new, adventurous Bec. I wouldn’t let assholes take advantage of me or anyone else.
I took a silent step back and grabbed two cans of soup off a nearby shelf.
I’d played softball all through high school and college, then later joined an adult league.
I was one hell of a pitcher and during times of stress, I’d practiced my skill with uncommon objects, like rocks.
I tested the weight of the soup can, and it didn’t feel too odd.
I was sure I could throw it with accuracy.
There was a problem, though. I didn’t want to hit him while he had the gun pointed at the cashier because he might shoot her by accident. I needed him to turn away from her first.
Aiming, I pitched the can at a chip display to the robber’s left. I watched it topple just as I’d hoped. The guy shouted out in surprise and turned to face the mess I’d made, pointing the gun at the fallen rack.
I was already cocked and ready with the second can. The moment the gun wasn’t pointed at the woman, I sent it flying. It should’ve impacted the center of the back of his head, at least knocking him down if not out.
Instead, he moved slightly and the can only clipped his ear, making him cry out and turn to face me.
“You fucking bitch!” he screamed, pointing his gun at me. That hadn’t gone as planned, but I had another plan.
“Oh wow, are you okay?” I asked, as if I was surprised as he was. “Did you see the guy that threw the can?”
The robber blinked, confused. “What? Where?” He started looking around for the phantom soup thrower.
I pointed in the direction of the bathroom. “I think he ran that way.”
The robber looked torn. Part of him wanted to hunt down his assailant, but the other wanted to finish grabbing everything and run.
While he was debating, his gun arm lowered so that it was pointed at the floor. I tensed, ready to act, except I didn’t get a chance.
The electronic chime on the door sounded, making both of us turn to see a guy in a motorcycle jacket with his helmet still on walk in. Oh shit, some poor biker was about to get caught up in this mess.
“Run!” I shouted, even as the robber lifted the gun at the new guy.
The biker ran, but not in the correct direction. He sprinted at the robber, completely ignoring the gun. The robber fired, the gunshot impressively loud in the store. I wasn’t prepared for the sound, and I shrunk back, tripping over my own feet.
I didn’t fall, but by the time I got my balance back, I turned to find the robber on the floor and the biker holding the gun.
Oh wow, that was impressive.
“I hit you!” the robber was babbling. The biker crouched down and lifted his visor. I couldn't see his face, but whatever the robber saw made him cry out. I watched with amusement as he pissed himself.
“What are you?” the robber said, scrambling backwards until he came up against a cooler full of drinks. He curled into a ball and started babbling the same thing over and over again. “Don’t take my soul. Don’t take my soul.”
Huh, that was interesting.
When the biker stood up and turned, I noticed a hole in his jack, right where a breast pocket would be on a man’s suit.
“You’re shot!” I exclaimed. I rushed over to the stranger and shouted at the cashier. “Call an ambulance.”
“I tripped the alarm, everyone will be on their way,” the cashier said. “And I’m out.”
I looked over my shoulder to see her walk away with a purse over her shoulder. I couldn’t blame her. I wouldn’t risk my life for this job either. Still, it would've been nice if she stayed to help now that we weren’t in danger any longer.
I turned my attention back to the biker. He was fiddling with the complicated clasp on his helmet. I didn’t care about that. I needed to find the wound so I could put pressure on it.
“You’re going to be okay,” I said, surprised that there wasn’t any blood soaking through his jacket. Maybe this would be one of those instances where the bullet got lodged in an antique silver cigarette case or something like that.
I unzipped his jacket and pulled it apart only to find a bullet hole in his shirt but still no blood. What the hell was going on?
Determined to find his wound, I tugged his shirt free of his pants and pulled it up to be greeted by a hard, male chest with no evidence of any bullet hole. Not even a scratch.
As I ran my hand all over his chest, something fell out from inside his shirt and tinged when it hit the floor.
I looked down to see a slug at our feet.
I was still holding his shirt up so when my eyes returned to his chest, I got to see a wave of emerald-green scales flash over his chest and then he was back to normal human skin.
By now he’d gotten his helmet off, and I knew whose face I’d see when I looked up.
“As much as I’m enjoying your touch,” he said. “I’d rather do this in private.”
Embarrassed, I pulled my hand away as if he’d burned me, let go of his shirt with my other hand, and stepped back.
“Marduk, what are you doing here?”
For some reason, my question made his smile brighten. “You know me.”
“Of course I know you,” I huffed. “You and Danzig are constantly showing up in my life. You can’t tell me that this is a coincidence.”
“I meant that you never mistake me for Danzig,” he stated, ignoring my annoyed tone. “You're the only human who’s ever been able to tell us apart.”
I shook my head, marveling that anyone could mistake one brother for the other. “You guys might be twins, but there are obvious differences.”
He tilted his head. “What differences?”
The question distracted me from my annoyance. “Your hair is a little darker, and your eyes are a deeper shade of emerald green than Danzig’s. I’m surprised you guys cut your hair in the same style, though.”
His grin turned hopeful. “How would you like us to style our hair?” As he talked, his hair grew long, extending to his shoulders. “Here? Or longer?”
I’d never liked long hair on men until now. I had to curl my hands into fists to keep from touching the luxurious, dark-brown locks. It wasn’t fair that he was so damn handsome!
“Why are you here?” I asked, forcing myself to focus on being irritated instead of entranced.
His expression turned blank. “I was out for a ride and needed to get gas.”
“You just happened to end up at the same gas station as me?”
“Yup,” he said. I was going to call him a liar when his expression turned hard. “It’s a good thing too. What were you thinking? That man had a gun. Those weapons are deadly to humans!”
Even though I’d met many magical creatures in the last two months, it still felt weird to hear him refer to me as a human. It was a little like the sci-fi romance books I liked to read where human women were being carried off by handsome, buff aliens.
I’d never admit it out loud, but I liked it.
“I was handling the situation,” I said.
I’d never seen Marduk truly angry until now. “He was pointing the gun right at you! That’s not handling it, that’s tempting the void to take your soul back!”
I hadn’t heard that term before and made a mental note to ask someone what the void was. This interaction felt extra disappointing after the fun interactions with Marduk on PixUs.
I glared up at him. “He wasn’t going to—”
“No!” Marduk's sharp voice cut me off. “You don’t play games with your life!”
I wanted to say I wasn’t playing games, I was taking a calculated risk. But the words got lost as his green eyes glowed bright, completely distracting me.
“Did you do that on purpose?” I asked.
His anger evaporated, replaced by confusion. “What?”
“Your eyes,” I said. “They lit up, like they have a power source.”
“Uh, no,” he said. “They’re tied to my emotions.”
“Fascinating,” I murmured. Before I could ask another question, he stepped so close we were almost touching. I could feel heat radiating from him and the image of his hard chest hidden under that shirt made me want to touch him.
No, no I wasn’t doing that. I was going to be strong. I couldn’t give into temptation, no matter how hot he was.
“Do you want to touch me?” he asked, his voice low and sensual. “We could go to my place. You could do anything you wanted to me. Touch me anywhere for as long as you like. Imagine what that would be like, getting to run your hands over every part of my body.”
His husky voice did strange things to me. It almost felt like a touch against my skin and caused a shiver down my spine.
For a moment, my hormones were in control, and his words created a myriad of pictures in my head and none of them had us wearing clothing.
The sound of police sirens pulled me out of my thoughts. Stepping back, I shook my head while he let out a low rumbling curse.
“Why is the timing always bad?” he grumbled.
I almost laughed. “Saved by the bell.”
He sent me a sour look as the cop car screeched to a stop in front of the door.
“Stay here,” he ordered, then walked past me and out the door. As a tall imposing male, he was more likely to get shot by mistake than me, but he was bulletproof so I stayed quiet.
Going to a nearby cooler, far away from the one where the guy was still cowering, I pulled out a soda. It was the least I deserved after successfully resisting Marduk.