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Scene #39
Chapter 1
Goddamn Syd must've sold her out. Three, no four recruiters were scanning for her. Felt like knives stabbing into her brain.
Focus. Best to take a few of them out before hitting the street. Dez reached out with her mind. Psi streams arced through the air like invisible lightening. Locating the weakest stream, she sent a blast of kinetic energy strong enough to knock someone out. The stream crackled and disappeared.
"Have a nice nap," she muttered.
Fake ID's went into her jeans pocket. She reached for her black leather backpack while she latched onto another stream. A bolt of raw power sliced through her nervous system. Her knees buckled as she cried out in pain.
Panting, she focused her energy to block the assault. Sweat dripped from her brow as she corralled the energy condensing it into a ball. She added her own psi stream behind it and pushed it back two fold.
Time to find a crowd and throw them off her signal. Out the window and down the fire escape, she slid through the darkness and ducked in the back door of Hell's Den. Stale beer, smoke and sweat assaulted her nose. The sticky floor sucked at her boots with every step. A sudden, vice like grip on her arm spun her around.
"Who are you?"
Wearing leather pants and a smirk, the guy's nipple rings proved he wasn't a recruiter. Rock hard pecks and six pack abs qualified him as her impromptu bodyguard. A quick scan through his memory showed he had a sister. "I'm your sister. I'm sick. Take me home."
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "No more tequila for you."
They exited the bar and emerged in the humid night air. In the parking lot she climbed onto the back of his Harley and wrapped her arms around his waist. He kick started the engine and then slumped forward.
Scrambling off the bike, Dez bolted deeper into the parking lot. The biker wasn't tapped into the psi streams. The recruiters had a visual. How'd they close in on her so fast? Beads of sweat ran between her breasts. Gravel crunched under her boots betraying her every move. She needed a place to hide. A quick survey of the parking lot showed her options were limited. The back of a pick up would do until she came up with a plan.
She lay down flat in the bed of a maroon truck. The crunch of footsteps sounded from her left and right. The recruiter on the right was closer. She reached out with her mind and blasted him.
A yelp followed by the thud of a two hundred fifty pound body hitting gravel echoed through the darkness. Peeking over the rim of the tailgate, Dez checked for company. Her heart beat double time as she edged over the side of the truck. She crouched and listened for footsteps. "Freeze."
"Please." Standing slowly she held her hands up in a sign of surrender. "You don't need to zap me. I'll come with you."
His eyes narrowed and she braced herself for pain. All the while she gently reached for his mind. She found his name and then sent calming waves to his stressed out nervous system. His jaw relaxed. The grip on the taser gun loosened.
"I won't cause any trouble, Nick." She moved toward him. "You can take me home." He frowned. "I'm taking you to the compound."
Pouring more energy into his brain, she said, "You want to take me home. I'm your sister."
His eyebrows slammed together. "I don't have a sister."
"I'm your friend," she suggested.
He studied her and his grip on the taser tightened.
Time for the fail-safe. "Nick, I'm your girlfriend." She sorted through his memories, pulled up a past girlfriend, and placed her head on the woman's body. "I'm your girlfriend. We're on a date. You're going to take me home."
He holstered the taser, but didn't move. She could feel him teetering. Time to go for broke. She searched his mind for the last time he'd been laid and changed it so she was the star of the show. Heat flared in his eyes.
She moved closer and touched his shoulder. "I'm tired. Take me home."
A smile softened his face. He lowered his head. She fought the urge to move away. Kissing the enemy wasn't part of her plan. His lips brushed against hers. Before he became too enthusiastic, she retreated a step. Her back smacked against the unyielding metal of the truck door.
Nick moved with her. "Going somewhere?"
Trying not to appear panicked, she traced her fingers along his jaw. "Let's get out of here."
"I have a better idea." He trailed hot kisses down her neck. His hands skimmed under her sweater tracing circles on bare skin. She reached into his mind to redirect him and was hit with a wave of lust. He wanted her here. Now. Against the truck.
Heat flowed through her veins as her body responded to the fantasy playing in his head. She fisted her hands in his shirt. He nipped at her neck and she moaned.
She tried to remember why this was a bad idea. Everywhere she touched muscles rippled under his shirt.
"Angie," he murmured.
Another woman's name was like a bucket of cold water. She shook off the hormonal haze berating herself for letting his emotions influence her.
"We can't do this here," she stated.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" He shifted positions so one of his legs pressed between her thighs. Want shot through her body. It would be so easy to give in. Maybe she could sneak off afterwards.
Survival instinct kicked in. "Stop." She pushed hard against his chest.
He sighed and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Spoilsport."
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