Shades of Gray - By Jackie Kessler & Caitlin Kittredge Page 0,4
my life back, that’s what I want!”
“And you can have it. Come on, this is me,” Jet said, commanding the creepers to move up Slider’s body and bind the woman’s hands. “You can talk to me, Slider.”
“You’re one of them!” Slider snarled, her upper lip curling. “You’re Corp’s lapdog!”
“I was.” The admission hurt, but Jet was honest. Her voice soft, she said, “But they can’t tell us what to do anymore.”
“Liar!” Slider struggled to free herself, even beginning to vibrate. But she wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to escape her bonds. Once the Shadow had you, it didn’t let you go.
Jet knew that all too well.
“Babe?” That was Meteorite, whispering in Jet’s ear thanks to her comlink. “You all right? Your heartbeat just galloped past 130.”
“I’m fine,” Jet murmured.
“Just checking. And heads up: You’ve got a normal headed into your sector.”
Terrific. The way things were going, it would probably be an Everyman looking to take down one of the extrahuman “freaks.” Jet took a step toward the bound woman. “Listen to me …”
“Lucy,” Meteorite supplied.
“Lucy.” Meteorite had always worked well as Operations, providing Jet with much-needed information. Thank the Light that Frostbite had jury-rigged a closed-network version of Ops for Jet and the others to use. The earpieces no longer broadcast subliminal messages about serving Corp, but they did still work beautifully as communication devices.
Jet lifted her gauntleted hands into a soothing gesture, trying to calm Slider like she would a spooked horse. “It’s going to be okay, Lucy. I know what you’re going through. You can get past it.”
“Liar!” Slider shrieked again, bucking. She overbalanced and crashed to the ground, then writhed on the broken pavement, slamming her head on the ground. Her cheerful red helmet cracked from the impact.
“Hey now,” Jet said, kneeling. “Come on, Lucy. Don’t hurt yourself.” She reached over to comfort the fallen hero, then yanked her hand away as Slider tried to bite her.
Damn it to Darkness. Jet didn’t want to blanket the woman in Shadow, not if she could help it. The last time she had done that, she’d nearly killed a man.
And the time before that, she had killed a woman.
It had been an accident during a life-or-death situation. Even so, Jet’s vision blurred as she saw Lynda Kidder’s still form lying in the filth of the sewers, the reporter’s body monstrously warped from a serum she’d been forced to take …
Pain wrenched her out of the grim memory. Cursing, Jet pulled her gloved fingers free from Slider’s clenched teeth.
“Sorry, Lucy,” Jet said. Then she released a ball of Shadow. It unfolded as it hit Slider’s face, wrapping its ends around the red-clad woman’s head. Slider slammed her head on the ground once, twice … and then was still.
Sighing, Jet called the Shadow back into herself. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Meteorite’s voice: “Normal approaching in five, four, three …”
Jet pulled out a pair of stun-cuffs from her belt and slapped them onto Slider’s wrists. Still kneeling, Jet turned her head to face the mouth of the alley. It took only a moment for her to blend into the shadows, making herself all but invisible.
A man lumbered into view, a black ski mask covering his face like a parody of the Shadow blanket Jet had just used on Slider. He sported a black bomber jacket over a slim frame, black jeans, and boots. And he toted an oversized, bulging sack in his gloved hands. He was too busy looking over his shoulder to notice that the alley was not deserted.
Behind her optiframes, Jet’s eyes narrowed.
The man lurched to a stop and yanked off his cap, revealing sweat-plastered mousy hair and a very plain face. He grinned ecstatically as he opened the bag.
“I sincerely hope those are presents for the local orphanage,” Jet said.
The man squawked, jerking around to see who’d spoken. His gaze slid right over where Jet crouched and fastened on Slider’s unconscious form. His eyes widened, and his mouth worked like a landed fish. He stepped back, nearly tripping over his bag.
“Citizen,” Jet said, standing slowly, calling back her power so that she no longer was one with the shadows, “what do you have in the bag? Stolen goods?”
The man squeaked, “Take it, it’s yours! Please don’t hurt me!”
A breeze whispered down the alley, bringing with it a hint of ozone. Jet’s black cloak swirled around her legs and boots. She allowed herself a small smile. “Hurt you? Now, why ever would I do that, citizen?”