Unbound

“It’s not about what I like,” she said, biting off the last word. She forced him to look at her. “It’s about authenticity. We need to be as honest in that as we are in all else. Otherwise, this means nothing.”

“In that case,” he said, licking at her skin, “I’ll wrap my whip around your middle, let the barbs bite into your organs, and rip it free before you even make a sound.”

He kissed her lightly and she sighed into his opened mouth. “You’re such a romantic.”

JJ swallowed her wicked laugh, and met the lift of her hips.

“Find the Kairos yet?” she asked, licking at the hollow of his neck.

He kissed the top of her head. “Stop fishing.”

She put on a pout. “Like you don’t care what we’re up to.”

“Honey, if your side had our world’s weapon of mass destruction, I wouldn’t be lying here now.” And a part of him was careful to keep this in mind, even when he was notched deep inside her. “You guys have no idea where the Kairos is.”

Knowing she was beaten, she curled up, back to his chest, leaving JJ to wonder if she wasn’t merely a gorgeous, exciting, and, yes, dangerous pet project. Proof that even someone raised by people dedicated to chaos and destruction could choose the right thing, if only provided the opportunity. Perhaps, he thought, stroking her hair, if they had someone to believe they were good.

Playing savior was no basis for a relationship, but as his actions weren’t being reported in either the Shadow manuals or the Light, he didn’t worry too much. Disguised as comic books and consumed by mortal minds, these manuals were as important for what they omitted as for the battles they recorded. Perhaps his deeds weren’t being shown because he was getting through to Sola. He chose to believe the Universe knew she needed anonymity if she was to continue working her way toward good. After all, his side would try to stop him if they knew what he was doing, and hers would kill her outright.

Thus, he decided, the Universe itself was upholding their right to choose—to choose each other or to choose to walk away—and to do it without interference from those who wouldn’t know of the affair unless they saw it with their own eyes. That was a natural law; and therefore an obvious sign to JJ that Sola was wrong and he was right.

So he held out hope she would soon realize this, even while unable to fathom such a reversal in his own moral code. The great irony? His involvement with her hadn’t lessened his desire to save the world, but strengthened it. So how could it be wrong? Besides, his heart’s longing was a small, private matter: he wished only to love whom he wanted, to be with whom he chose.

But she was right about one thing. Why should he be the only one not getting what he wanted? Why should every small pleasure be sacrificed to duty? If he was going to die in the same gruesome fashion as his parents—a risk he took every time he stepped from his sanctuary—then he should be allowed to take joy where he could. So when she woke and turned to him in the middle of the night, asking yet again why he bothered fighting her kind, he smiled against her side.

“I need to,” he said simply. “I’m a superhero.”

“You’re a man,” she said, her throaty voice soft as smoke, her hand resting on the tattoo that was both shadow and light. “I have what you need.”

Yes. For some reason he needed her, too.

And for some other reason, she was willing to be his need.

“Don’t get it.”

Sola’s eyes were on JJ as he leaned from the bed to check his cell. Warren. “I have to.”

“You’re putting work ahead of me.” Her bottom lip, swollen from his kisses, would be sticking out.

“Ahead of the competition, yes.” He smiled as he angled back, but she turned away. Snorting, he putting a hand over the receiver in case Warren came on the line. “Don’t even try it.”

Solange threw the sheets from her body, backside swaying as she made her way to the bathroom. A few seconds later water began running into the tub. “Yes,” he said, tone altering at Warren’s voice. His leader had begun calling JJ first, whether it was to assist with recon, stakeout, or especially attack. How ironic that he had Sola to thank for it.

“I’ve found her.”

JJ stood. “You haven’t.” But he began pulling on his jeans one-handed. “Where?”

“Right where she’s supposed to be.” Warren laughed, and it wasn’t his maniacal spiral, though it couldn’t be called tame, either. “She wasn’t in hiding or kidnapped by the Shadows or even in jail over a traffic violation. She went to fucking Maui, but now she’s back.”

Maui. JJ rolled his eyes. Tonya Dane predicted his world’s savior and then went surfing. “Where are you?”

“The motel on Fremont.”

“I’ll be right there.” JJ flipped the phone shut and slid it into his pocket. Getting to Tonya first was a huge coup. That woman’s mind—mortal, but a psychic’s—was a big red arrow on a map that, with luck, could lead directly to the Kairos.