Chapter 24 Kaye
KAYE
Ashiver races along my skin and the urge to move suddenly becoming unbearable.
To shake off the chill, and maybe some nerves.
The last time I ventured downtown ended in a knife stuck through my arms and a light coma.
If Zane hadn’t been there to act so quickly, if Mr. Pancost hadn’t stayed close by…
So many close calls, and questions that thankfully remain unanswered. It’s hard to believe that was only a few weeks ago.
I stretch my arms over my head, the muscles in my forearms prickling with what I would call irritation, not pain.
“All good?” Zane, dressed in full Charade-ensemble, presses an ear piece into my palm.
Bluetooth connected—a lifeline, should I need it.
And honestly, it’s kind of nice to know someone’s watching out for me, talking me through any sticky situations that could arise.
It’s still a little strange to think about that person being Charade.
Our fingers brush for a fraction of a second. Something magnetic pulses between us. A connection I could see if only I looked hard enough, quick enough. There in one breath, and gone the next. Blush heats the tops of my cheeks, but I can’t bring myself to look away. For once neither does he.
I never planned on admitting this, never dreamed I would ever be allowed to feel this way. I blurt it out before I lose my nerve. “You were right. There is something more between us. Maybe there always has been.”
“Something more than mind-blowing orgasms, you mean?” He smirks.
“There’s that, yes.” I roll my eyes. “But I think I… might have feelings for you. I want more of orgasms of course, but maybe we could also go on a date sometime?”
“I thought we decided the next logical step to this was marriage.”
“I’m serious, Zane. I-I want this. With you.”
His eyes cut away from mine, leaving a cold loneliness in their wake. When did I become so accustomed to that frozen violet electricity? When did it turn from cruel coldness to familiar warmth? He takes the mask he made from me in hand, his fingers brushing along a silken edge.
“You hated me, Kaye. Not so long ago.” His voice is gruff, though soft.
Charade certainly intimidated me, sometimes even scared me. But he never hurt me, even when he had the chance and every reason to go through with it.
He saved my life.
“I never hated you.” My stomach sinks. Is that really what he thinks of me?
The silence seems to stretch on between us, and I’m content to let it, to will my heart to harden around the painful mess spreading open and wreaking havoc in my chest, because only now that the chance has been taken away do I recognize how badly I wanted it.
Someone to know my secret and watch over me in the dangers of the night.
A friend. A lover. Someone to trust again.
Not just someone. Charade. Zane. The only person who has ever rescued me.
My face is hot and flushed. I can feel the heat of it radiating under my skin.
A hard knot claws at my throat. The wind blows, and I close my eyes as it passes, picking out the salty scent of a storm riding the air.
Flour and yeast from the local bakery a block over.
I let it sooth me, suddenly grateful he’s not looking. That he won’t see.
Taking several full, calming breaths, I begin to mentally gather myself again. Whatever this feeling is can wait. There’s a mission to be done.
New Malcolm needs its hero.
I stand, pulling the mask from his fingers.
He barely reacts, and that’s fine. I turn my back on him and face my city as I place the mask on my face.
A moment, and the strange material forms around my skin, sealing in place comfortably without straps or ties.
I feel the gravity of my mantle settling overtop me until I am no longer Katerina Grace.
Only then do I face Zane once more. Only then do his eyes meet mine.
I don’t know what he sees, but I feel powerful in the sleek, black super suit. I wanted to cry when George and Zane presented it to me.
It’s a living symbol of our alliance, George had said. The material is my invention, microscopic nanobots mixed with living material—
—Fueled by a modification of my compound, Zane finished. With enough power to protect you from almost anything.
White and purple diamond checkers race up the seams along my pant legs and jacket sleeves. I don’t know how to react when the side of his thumb grazes my cheek, painfully soft. Gentle.
“You are my nightmare made real.” His attention drops to my lips, expressions of ecstasy and pure, utter torment crossing his face.
A fresh wave of pain burns my chest. I keep still, focus on my breathing to keep my power in check.
“Checkmate.” He sighs.
I take a step away until there’s enough space stands between us that physical contact isn’t possible. Pray that he doesn’t see the smoke starting to curl around my palms.
“Kaye…”
I don’t trust myself to respond, and even if I did, I don’t have time for emotion and reaction. New Malcolm needs me. I have never not answered that call before—I’m not about to start now.
At the far side of the roof, a thick length of rope waits, tied to an anchor plunged through the brick exterior and into the solid wood frame below.
In the past, I would have sauntered straight through the main entrance and been welcomed with open arms and fanfare.
Hank, the night guard, wouldn’t even have asked me to pass through the metal detector.
Gladys, who has been the mayor’s personal secretary for more than twenty years, would have saved me one of her homemade banana nut muffins and slipped it to me while I waited.
You’re getting too thin, Checkmate. You can’t save the city if you can’t take care of yourself.
What a load of shit.
The rope is thick, comforting in my palm, and smells faintly of straw. I grasp it, testing the tension from the anchor and the knot on the carabiner keeping it in place. My skin sticks against the mobile material of the gloves.
“I’m right here if you need me.” Zane taps lightly on his earpiece.
I step to the edge of the roof, thinking of the last time I mounted a ledge like this. At least this time I brought a rope.
My attention darts to him one final time before I ease my weight over the edge, but his focus is elsewhere. Face turned up, toward the stars. I swallow around the knot now firmly crowding my windpipe.
In shallow baby steps, I slip down the stone and brick facade of City Hall.
It’s beautiful, all sharp corners, pointed like a compass rose, and at its center lies a copper dome, weathered, green, and faded.
Rumor has it witches were once tried within these walls and hung on the grounds.
Maybe from one of the ancient oaks on the front lawn.
I whisper a quick prayer to them, those innocent women who lost their lives hundreds of years ago.
All over powers they probably never had.
May they watch over me and guide my steps tonight.
Just as I finish, the silence breaks.
“If I’m afraid of anything, Kaye, it’s of how much I want you.” His voice in my ear is ragged, strained. “Having you this close to me—to my family… It’s like a gun pointed at my temple. To want you is to court the end of everything I know and love. And yet…”
The heat inside me has stoked to a burn with the intensity of each stroke of his words, each forbidden admission.
I feel them race over my fingers clutching the rope, over my legs straining to hold my perch on the wall.
I’ve stopped moving, stopped breathing as I wait for him to complete that one tantalizing revelation.
“Kaye,” he growls. “The thought of making you my own, of finally being inside you—of feeling you clench around me and scream my name as you come… Of making you lose all self-control and shatter. It consumes me.”
I’ve forgotten how to breathe. I can picture it so easily—splayed before him, naked and wanting, his lust full of hunger, devouring. His touch claiming each and every sense before that sinful, sensual tongue of his—
“Shit!” I slam hard onto my elbows, the impact jarring my bones, my whole skeleton vibrating with it. When the pain has passed, I check my feet and see the step I missed in my descent. One more foot to the left and I wouldn’t have been able to catch myself.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“What happened?” Now that he knows I’m not hurt or dying, a touch of laughter enters his voice.
“Absolutely nothing,” I respond.
I can feel his over-inflated male ego from here as a block of silence stretches between us.
“Did I distract you, Kaye?”
I regain my form on the wall, determined not to give him the satisfaction of an answer. I know better than to answer questions when I have no chance of winning.
“Tell me what thought was so captivating that you forgot you were scaling a wall four stories above the ground.” His voice glides into my ear and tingle down my spine, playful and seductive. “I bet it’s delicious.”
“There’s a window on my right,” I say. “I think I can reach it.”
He sighs. “A window, and me…”
I smirk, my fingers at last finding purchase on the cement ledge. And come face-to-face with my smudged reflection in a dingy, dust-covered, old window. The frame is loose. It’s only too easy to pry an inch. Two. And slip my hand into the aperture. It opens with a quiet shuck.
“I’m in.”
“I’m in too,” Zane purrs.
I can’t help it. It’s ridiculous and immature, and yet I still smile, my chest a little lighter. “Shut up.”
The sound of his laugh, hearty and full, cuts right to my core. There’s warmth there, and something light and fleeting. Something I want, desperately.
He clears his throat. “I won’t say ‘be careful.’ You’ve done this a million times, and even if you hadn’t, you’re Checkmate, but… if you want this, I want you too. I don’t like risking the ones I love.”
Did he just say he loves me? Lightning crackles in my rib cage, striking my abdomen.