Two Cool for You
SNOW
I'm not a stalker.
I’m more like unexpected backup.
That’s what I tell myself as I follow the mystery hoodie guy at four AM.
I've been pacing him for twenty minutes, creeping from rooftop to rooftop, far above where he strolls the city streets. It took a couple hours of concerted city sweeping before I located him.
Again, not stalking, just…uh, checking up on him.
I don't get the sense Hoodie is going anywhere in particular. Kind of like me, he's just roaming around.
Maybe he is exactly like me? An insomniac with a vigilante hobby.
Though we aren’t the only ones out this late.
The faint ding of a bell draws my attention to a young South Asian guy with a backpack locking up a convenience store for the night.
I’ve been to the Hot and Quik many times to grab energy drinks and always appreciate how late they stay open. If I remember right, the kid's name is Devi.
His parents run the shop, but Devi uses the slow night shift to study for his college classes. Based on the intimidatingly thick textbooks I’ve seen, he’s into some kind of math or science field.
Hoodie is walking in a different direction, but I can clearly see them both from my vantage point.
Devi strides with purpose but slows when he comes across a city-placed planter of browned, crispy flowers that have been decimated by the Boston heat.
He glances around, exactly the way someone would who is about to do something shady.
Well, well. What are you up to, mister?
I lean over the ledge to get a closer look.
That’s when Devi sticks his hand in the dirt. At first, nothing happens, but then the dead brown flowers turn green and lift with new life, color expanding into the now vibrant petals.
I cover my gasp with a hand.
That is so fae fucking cool. The pull in my chest strains at seeing the beautiful display of magic. He’s got to be at least a level two mage.
I can’t help but wonder how it feels to give plants life again.
I bet it feels fucking awesome.
Fuck college classes. I’d be running some massive garden center and doing crazy shit with my gardening powers. I’d grow a topiary replica of me. Or…oh I’d make one of Ariel! She’d think it was so weird.
I chuckle to myself, knowing I’d make even more of them just because of that.
With a self-satisfied smile, Devi adjusts his backpack and starts walking again.
That’s the thing about nighttime. With no one around, there are fewer inhibitions, fewer reasons to pretend to be someone you’re not.
And that’s exactly why the Humans Against Magic chuckleheads have been lurking as late as I do.
I catch movement in the shadows from the end of the street where Devi is. A familiar man stalks out and into the light.
Dirt-Face.
And he’s beelining straight for the young mage.
He saw the small display of power too.
In my moment of admiration, I’d lost track of Hoodie, but he’s not the priority now. In a few moments, that HAM asshole was going to be on Devi like purple on a pansy.
I grab a drainpipe and slide down it. My hands burn from the descent, but that doesn’t matter. That kid is in serious danger.
I start sprinting, putting extra speed in my step when I hear a yelp of pain.
Rounding the corner, I skid to a halt. Dirt-Face holds Devi against a wall by his lapels. Devi’s face drains of color as his eyes widen with fear. He’s no fighter.
Hoodie steps out of the shadows a couple of feet away on the opposite side of the alley.
Dirt-Face hasn’t clocked either of us yet. "We don’t want any dirty little mages in our city. You need to be taught a lesson about how to act."
"I got this," I yell to Hoodie, determined to prove myself this time.
Dirt-Face and Devi both jerk in surprise, their gazes swinging back and forth between me and Hoodie.
"Aw fuck," the HAM asshole mutters even as I dart forward before jumping onto a nearby crate and leveraging it to go flying in the air at Dirt-face.
His grip on Devi loosens just enough that when I pounce, he lets go entirely. Devi stumbles free as Dirt-Face’s back slams into the ground with a painful oomph. The astringent stink of spearmint and stale cigarette smoke explodes in my face, wrinkling my nose.
"I thought you learned your lesson last night," I ask with deliberate sass, one of my daggers at his throat.
Admittedly, I’m putting on a bit of a show for Hoodie.
He was just about to intervene when I beat him to it. He totally has the same vigilante hobby as me, and I can’t help the deep sense of excitement and satisfaction that dances in my chest at that.
I may not have magical powers, but that doesn’t mean I’m totally useless. I helped him last night, just like I’m helping now, and he won’t be able to say I didn’t this time.
Throwing Hoodie a cocky grin, I find I’m not meeting the familiar pale white orbs of last night.
Instead, his eyes are the color of amethyst. Even the expression on his face seems different, less tense, more relaxed, as if enjoying the show.
For a moment, I don’t recognize him, and it’s more than his expression or eye color. It’s almost like seeing a totally different person.
"Get off me, bitch," Dirt-Face snarls.
Oh right, I’m showing how capable and kickass I am. Back to that.
I press the blade tighter to his jugular, forcing his chin up. He stills under me.
I check on Devi. "You okay, kid?" He’s probably only a couple years younger than me, but the lingo feels right.
Though visibly shaken, he doesn’t appear hurt. Devi gives me a jerky nod, eyes wide as saucers.
"Grab your stuff and get home," I tell him a little softer this time. "He won’t bother you anymore."
Doubt flickers in Devi’s face, but relief wins out as he grabs his backpack and takes off.
I catch Hoodie still watching me. His eyes are lidded with a nonchalance while his lips curl up. There’s a hardness underneath his amusement.
"What?"
"How are you going to guarantee that?" Hoodie lifts an eyebrow, asking the question while still seeming bored somehow. "Are you going to kill him?" He nods at my captive.
Dirt-Face stiffens underneath me.
"What? No." Not that I haven’t taken a life before, but that had been against vampires trying to kill a bunch of innocent people. It was kill or be killed.
I’m completely satisfied with simply kicking some ass, in the name of safety.
Is that an oxymoron? I wonder briefly then shake it away.
"Why not?" Hoodie asks, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, sauntering forward. "Then you won’t have to worry about him coming after you later if you just do it now."
Unlike the tense, tightly strung guy I met yesterday, today Hoodie seems almost bored, even as he stirs the pot. A trait I’ve commonly indulged in.
"You seem different today." I cock my head to the side. "Forget to take your meds?"
He barks out a hard laugh.
"Seriously, what’s your deal?" I press.
"I thought you could figure that from all that stalking you were doing tonight."
I bluster, no audible words forming.
What the hell? I’d been silent as a black cat in slippers on an ice luge. How did he—
"Are you two going to flirt all night?" Dirt-Face mutters from below me.
Whoops. I’d almost forgotten he was there. I turn my attention back to him.
"Listen up, asshole, just because I’m not going to gut you tonight doesn’t mean I won’t do it next time.
Three strikes and you’re out, capiche? If I see you out lurking at night again, being a purist dickwad, if I hear anything has happened to that kid or his family, if he so much as gets a bruise by accident, I will hunt you down and cut you up until that dumbass white jacket is soaked red and you can’t bother anyone anymore. Got it?"
It took everything to resist glancing up at Hoodie. The threatening speech could have been right out of some dark action movie.
I nailed that.
The corners of Dirt-Face's eyes tense as he nods.
"Say ‘I understand," I order in a singsong voice.
When he doesn’t answer right away, I push the dagger into him more firmly.
"I understand," he squawks in panic.
I rise back to my feet, giving him space to stand. Red flushes underneath all his dirty-looking scruff as he avoids eye contact.
"Hold up," I say, before he can slink off like the rat he is. I hold out a hand, opening and closing it in a gimme motion. "The jacket."
He sheds it and scurries off, cursing under his breath.
I walk over and pick it up, pinching it between my fingers, reluctant to touch it. "Ew, ew, ew, ew," I chant until I drop it in a nearby dumpster.
"You should have killed him," Hoodie says again. "He’s going to come after you."
"Pfft, I think I’ve proven I can handle myself...what is your name again?"
A tiny, sly smile ticks up on one side. "I didn’t drop our—my name." The slip-up he made instantly wipes away his smirk.
"Our name, okay. What’s our name then?" I say cautiously, not wanting to spook him or...them. Something is definitely up with this guy.
His tongue sweeps over his front teeth in consideration as he eyes me thoughtfully.
It takes so long for him to answer, I practically vibrate with energy that demands I explode into a litany of more questions.
No. Be cool. Be calm. Don’t act desperate. Let him answer you in his own time.
His expression shifts as if he’s come to some decision. "We are known as The Seven," he finally says with a sardonic bow.
"So, am I right in thinking you aren’t the same guy I met yesterday?" Again, play it cool, Snow. This is the most interesting hot dude you’ve ever met, don’t blow it.
I casually swipe my hands on my pants, trying to hide the fact they’ve turned slick. No guy has ever made me break a sweat. Ever.
Those purple eyes track the movement as if he knows exactly why I did it.
"That was One. I would be Two. Pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Snow." He practically purrs my name in a sardonic taunt. Like my name is lame, and he’s too cool for anything, especially me.
I strangle down the urge to fist pump because I asked the right questions and guessed correctly.
The Seven, and I’ve met One and Two?
"So there are Seven of you all crammed in there?" To appear like I also don’t care, I hop up to sit on a crate and examine my nails as if they are suddenly the most interesting thing in this alley.
Two shrugs, as if it’s not worth answering, but it confirms my theory.
"Is that part of your magic?" I ask next, hungry to know every little detail about him.
His face shutters. "We’ve got to go." He turns on his heel and takes off.
Shit, shit, shit. I drove him away.
Hopping off the crate, I half run to catch up again. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Like I told One, I don’t have magic, and I think you’re kind of...well…cool. That’s all."
Ah great, Snow. Way to sound desperate and stupid.
Two slows his gait, and I can walk normally. Then he looks at me. "You think I’m cool."
I should probably keep trying to play it off like I don’t care, but I can’t help but gush.
"I would kill to have super speed. I think it’s mega rad."
His eyes narrow slightly as if I’ve said something insulting.
"What?" I ask.
He’s like a damn Rubik’s Cube. Once I feel I’ve got a row of colors figured out, it gets all jumbled up.
And I just want to keep playing with him until I figure the puzzle out.
For a minute, I consider other ways I want to play with him...
My hands grow damp again, this time because warmth spreads through me.
His shoulders are broad, and the shape of his lips is wildly appealing. Not to mention there is an intensity about him, whether he is One or Two, that makes me want to lick right up the column of his neck and call him daddy.
"You think super speed is cool," he says, almost mocking me.
I clear my throat, trying to clear away the fog of horniness that practically has my tongue lolling from my mouth like a cartoon wolf’s.
"Well yeah, that’s a kickass power to have. You don’t think so?" He confuses me. Why wouldn’t he love that ability?
"I mean, it’s alright," he says in that deliberately disaffected tone even as he backs up to the shop we’ve stopped in front of. The Magic Bean, my favorite place to get a caffeine fix.
"But what do you think about this?" he asks, as he shoves his hands in his jean pockets and walks backward. Without a sound, he passes right through the front until he’s standing inside the shop, having passed through the wall and massive window.
"Holy faefucks," I breathe, my heart jackrabbiting in my chest. "Two? Two powers?" My words come out as excited squeaks.
I’m sure my voice is muted, but I think he hears me because he gives a nonchalant shrug like it’s no big deal.
But it’s a huge deal. A massively huge crazy deal. I don’t have one single power, and he has two mega hard-hitting powers.
Not that it’s unheard of. My friend Goldie has siren abilities to charm and draw people to her and can also teleport whenever she feels she’s in danger.
Her abilities only manifested a couple of years ago, so she’s still learning how to control them, but this guy, The Seven, did it like it was as easy as breathing.
The Seven.
"Do you have seven different powers?" I yell to be heard through the glass.
Oh my god, seven powers. There’s no way. And yet...
Instead of answering, Two just smirks and backs up until he’s phased through the back wall.
Desperate for more answers, I run around to the back of the coffee shop, expecting to find him in the alley. But he’s not there.
I circle the building a couple more times, looking everywhere for him, but The Seven is gone.
I shake my head and sit on a bench. If he has two abilities—super speed and the ability to phase through walls—I wonder if his other powers include melting panties, smelling delicious, and being absolutely irresistible.
I sigh, leaning back on the bench with more than a little flare of drama.
Usually I snag a couple hours of sleep and that’s all I need, but as I head back to the apartment I share with Ariel, I’m overflowing with curiosity that keeps exploding in me like a never-ending fireworks show.
There will be no sleep tonight.
And worst of all, I didn’t get a chance to show him my new magic trick. Next time, I’d make sure to pull a coin from behind his ear. He’ll have no choice but to fall madly in love with me then.