Shades of Gray - By Jackie Kessler & Caitlin Kittredge Page 0,7
White Hot, who hadn’t called back her power. Her gloved hands were bright as suns, and they twitched either with nervous energy or madness. Or both. “She’s one of the lapdogs.”
Jet was getting tired of hearing the slur. “Was,” she spat, not having to fake her disgust. “Light, how many times do I have to say it? I don’t work for them anymore.”
“You were their poster child,” White Hot sneered. “Like you really could just turn off your adoration?”
“You don’t know me.” Jet pointed her chin at Were. “You do.”
Were’s nostrils flared. “I do,” he agreed, and grinned hugely. “You still smell like you’d be a great lay. You try to send out these untouchable vibes, but under all that black leather you’re practically begging to get fucked. Bet you’re a screamer.”
Light spare me. “My, you sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”
“I know how to do more than that,” Were said, stepping forward, all gangly legs and hormones. “I know how to make you see Jehovah. I can do things with my tongue—”
“Shut it, perv.” White Hot scowled as she flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. Probably didn’t like not being the object of his attention. White Hot was arrogant, self-centered. Jet had seen the type before, mostly from Lighters. White Hot. Razzle Dazzle. Sunbeam. Dawnlighter.
Iridium.
“You know,” Jet said, pushing away thoughts of Iri, “there was a time, Were, when you’d be cracking jokes along with making moves.” She allowed herself a smile that hinted at “come hither.” She wasn’t a flirter by nature, not like Jezebel or Curves, but even Jet knew how to turn it on when necessary.
Were chuffed laughter, the sound dancing with the animal in his nature. “Oh, I’m thinking of lots of things that’ll make me smile …”
Jet motioned to the debris at her feet. “Maybe first you’ll apologize for bringing a wall down on me. That was just rude, wouldn’t you say?” She shrugged her cloak off her shoulder, the motion calling attention to her breasts.
And … yes, Were’s gaze slid down to her chest.
She allowed her smile to widen. A little more banter, a touch more innuendo, then Were’s guard would be lowered enough for her to take him out with a kiss of Shadow. He was the more deadly of the two; he had to go down first, before White Hot knew what was happening. As for the Lighter, Jet would knock her out the old-fashioned way.
But of course, that was when the normal decided to bolt.
Screaming like his hair was on fire, the thief pushed past her and headed for the mouth of the alley. Before Jet could catch her balance, White Hot lit up—the millions of spangles that made up her skinsuit transformed into prisms of eye-bleeding color. She aimed low, blasting the ground beneath the man’s feet.
With a squawk, the thief pinwheeled to the broken, smoking cement. White Hot planted a high-heeled boot on the man’s back and threaded her gloved fingers through his hair.
“Baby,” she crooned, “going so soon?”
“He’s a thief,” Jet said, her gaze locked on White Hot. She didn’t like the sadistic smile on the woman’s face, or the way the air still crackled with ozone. The Lighter wasn’t still glowing, at least, but she hadn’t tamped back her power. Not good. “I was going to deposit him with Commissioner Wagner.”
White Hot didn’t bother looking at Jet when she replied. “And why would we want to do such a thing?”
“He’s a thief,” Jet said slowly.
“Mmm. I do so like bad boys.” White Hot yanked the man’s head back, exposing his bare throat. “What do you think, Were?”
“Not my type,” Were said. And then he pounced.
Jet rolled, but Were still tagged her, grabbing her shoulders and going down with her. Fast, she thought, so damn fast. She brought her legs between their bodies and kicked hard. Too late—she missed his kneecaps because he was already shifting. Calling up her power, she pummeled him with a Shadowbolt. Were, half-human, flew off her and slammed snout first into the alley wall.
Protect the normal.
Jet launched herself at White Hot, who had already flipped the thief onto his back and was fumbling with his zipper. Propelled by Shadow, Jet built momentum and cocked her right fist back as her left leg came forward, bent at the knee. White Hot looked up just as Jet swiveled, the knuckles of her right hand aiming for the Lighter’s pouty lips.
The meaty thud of her fist connecting was music to Jet’s ears.