CONTAINS CONTENT:
Mild sexual content
When Marielle ran into the lab, Vincent’s eyes widened in concern. He stopped what he was doing with Sabine and Klara and rushed to her, enfolding her in his arms protectively. “Oh, Masin, what’s wrong?”
Klara hurried to her side as well, putting a comforting hand on Marielle’s back, and Sabine also came over, despite her dull expression and the two feet of space between them.
Vincent looked up to see Austin standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He met Vincent’s eyes, and Vincent gave him a single nod to thank him for bringing Marielle to him. Austin tucked his lips in for a moment and looked away.
“I fell asleep,” Marielle whispered against Vincent’s chest. “Cory came.”
He took in a deep breath and looked around. “Okay,” he whispered.
“He was in my dreams. He told me he was going to hurt me… give me to him?”
Vincent huffed angrily as he rocked her. Austin eyed Vincent.
“Him?” Sabine pressed, looking from Vincent to Marielle, then back again.
Vincent flicked a brow at Sabine and shrugged. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.
“We won’t let him,” Klara assured, and she looked to Vincent, giving him a strong nod as if to say, “Right?”
Vincent nodded his agreement. “Nothing is going to get you. And if he ever does… I will die trying to save you and get you back.”
Then he looked up as if talking to God, although it soon became clear who he was actually addressing. “How dare you torment her? You’ll get what’s coming to you, you son of a bitch.” He gently rubbed Marielle’s back as he spoke, his voice low and threatening. “Bring that to my door, see how that goes for you. I know all of your tricks, vampire.”
Marielle reached down and grabbed his hand. “Come back with me to my office,” she whispered. “We need to talk.”
He turned to Sabine and Klara. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Whatever,” Sabine growled, shrugging dismissively and walking away.
Klara waved a hand to indicate that she could handle this and followed the other woman.
Marielle locked the door as soon as she and Vincent entered her office, giving little thought to where Austin was. She’d lost track of him shortly after she’d gone into Vincent’s arms, but she suspected he was back in his office next door.
She kept her voice low. “Hazal and Cory both called you a traitor.” Vincent’s jaw tensed, and he looked down. “I’ve always kind of figured that was their perspective because you left your dimension and left them all behind…” She paused. “But why are they so angry at you? Why are they targeting us personally?”
He pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned back on the couch, staring into her face. He was silent… a gray tombstone in a big graveyard.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” she realized in a shaky whisper. “Are you just”—she swallowed hard—“all secrets and lies?”
His expression became dark, severe. “I am an assassin. What do you think?”
She felt the knots in her stomach tighten. “You—you’ve done things…” She knelt in front of him on the couch, unable to find the words.
“Of course I have.”
“You’ve put all of us in danger for—for what exactly?”
“I never meant to put anyone in danger.” He leaned on his knuckles and glared at her, his brown eyes burrowing into her soul. “But is the reason not obvious?”
Marielle felt her heart speed up. “Me?” she whispered, and suddenly so many things became clearer in her mind. The darkness in his eyes as he looked at her, the tilt of his head, and his fixed, unwavering gaze told her everything she needed to know, paralyzing her with a jumble of emotions she couldn’t process.
What did this mean for her and everyone else at Valorant? What did it mean for the other dimension? Why her? In some ways, that much was obvious since she was his wife… but why her specifically? Hadn’t he been to several other worlds? Why hadn’t he stayed with her in any of the others? Why hadn’t Chamber come after her or tried to date her? Was she dead in every reality except this one? Wait… Had he tried to be with her in other dimensions, and she’d refused him? And if that was the case, why? Had she known better in the other dimensions? Hadn’t he told her repeatedly not to trust him?
Suddenly, her certainty was shaken. She’d shared so much with him: deep conversations, romantic looks, delicious meals one or the other of them had made by hand, past traumas, battle, and now, even her body, which she only reserved for men she loved or wanted to promise a long time with. He’d had her, she’d had him. They were each other’s, weren’t they?
Marielle stood with a heavy sigh and began to pace a little, trying to understand how to approach this. What was this?
“This?” Austin’s voice rang in her ear; the queen of hearts card was probably burning a hole in his wallet by now. She remembered something else he’d said to her: “I haven’t lied to you, except during this little game we’ve played here… Vincent has.”
“Why do you lie to me?” she begged Vincent.
He exhaled slowly and finally glanced away from her, gazing at his empty lap instead. Then he closed his eyes, maybe trying to hide, maybe thinking over everything he was keeping from her. She wasn’t sure. Why was he so hard to read?
“I don’t want to lie to you, Masin,” he whispered.
She fidgeted for a moment, combing some of her hair back from her face. “Then why won’t you just tell me?”
“Because I’m a selfish man, Masin. Everything I do is selfish,” he replied bluntly. “I want what I want, and I intend on having it.”
“Me?” He drew a deep breath and nodded. “Why wouldn’t you have gotten me, Vincent?” she asked cautiously.
He glanced left, then down, but said nothing. She followed his gaze. Was he just looking away? Austin’s office was in that direction. Wait… No, it was just him looking away, wasn’t it?
“You are charming and romantic…” She stood up and moved toward him again, stopping between his knees. “And handsome and charismatic…” She took in a deep breath, smelling him, his cologne, his nervousness. “Sexy… dangerous… completely protective of me… Why wouldn’t I love you?”
Uh-oh… the L word. We haven’t used that one yet. He smirked knowingly.
“It was your plan to seduce me from the beginning, wasn’t it? You seduced me, but you didn’t just do that, Vincent, you…” She twisted her hands together, her fingers intertwining and pulling at each other. “You’re in my very body, my very mind. I’m nearing obsessed…” Another proud smile on his lips, but much softer. He was trying to hide that one, but he wasn’t getting away with it. “That was your plan, wasn’t it? You knew me, so you knew how to seduce me, how to make me…” Her cheeks grew hot as her voice trailed off for a moment. “How to draw that out and make me beg…”
He closed his eyes, not even trying to hide the smirk this time as his eyes fluttered back to hers. She had hit the nail on the head. He’d gradually worked his way into her mind, body, and soul until she’d told him she wanted him.
“How am I supposed to trust you?” She leaned in a little. “Vincent… why?”
The steadiness of his gaze both intimidated and excited her. He sat extremely still, which made her feel like he might grab her at any moment. Part of her even wanted him to. She loved the feel of his strength overpowering her, because somehow she knew he’d never use it against her.
“Why?” she demanded in a harsher tone. He refused to answer. “Why?” Louder now.
He exploded, standing from the couch so they were body to body. “I buried you, Masin!” She took a step backward; they were too close. He took hold of the sides of her face firmly, but without hurting her. “I stood and watched them lower your body into the ground.”
For a moment, the brokenness in his voice enthralled her. She wanted him to take her into his arms, wanted him to claim her body for himself again and prayed this would turn into deep passion. Then she came back down to earth. She pushed him away and took a step back.
“Why do you lie to me?” she repeated, not allowing him to derail her from her original questions.
“Mon Dieu! I told you!” he barked. “I’m selfish! I want what I want, and I will have it. I’ve gone through dimensions to find you!” He began speaking fast enough that his English couldn’t keep up with it and his words came out in French instead. Luckily, she still picked up everything he said. Essentially, it was: “You have no idea what I’ve done and what I’ve been through, and how much I’ve hurt to find you. I have you now, I have you, and there’s nothing that can tear us apart! I won’t let it.” He grabbed her and held her close, his strong arms making her disappear against him. In English again, he exclaimed, “Oh, my wife, my completion! I won’t let it.”
“You would cause an entire world pain for me?” she asked against his heart as it pounded, each beat seeming to say her name.
“I would cause a hundred thousand worlds pain… for you.”
Her mind shattered again. What did that mean? Had he caused a hundred thousand worlds pain for her? How many times had he found her and tried to be with her? She dared to ask, “Vincent, how many times have you found me?” He was shaking his head. “How many times have you—”
He rocked her gently, completely burying her in his arms. “No, Masin. Nothing else matters. We’re together again.”
Marielle bit her lip hesitantly. “Tell me you haven’t… slept with thirty more of me, or…” She stopped, unable to complete the thought.
He pulled back, holding her head again, willing her to understand him. “No, I haven’t. Only you.” He squeezed her a bit, his eyes intense on hers. “Only this you.”
She could tell it was true. Swallowing hard, she let out the ragged breath she’d been holding, finding comfort in those words. “But there’s more,” she pressed.
He growled angrily, pulling back from her and letting go of her face. “Why? Why is this not enough right now, Masin?”
“Because there are people here trying to kill us, Vincent, and those people are also us! Nothing is normal or okay!” she yelled back.
“And has anyone in this facility died yet? Have any of your—our—friends been killed? I’m here to protect you, Masin!”
“Protect me? How can I believe that when you won’t even give me my guns?”
Placing his hands on his hips, he turned with a noise of frustration and looked out the window. From there, she knew he could see the spot where they’d spent so many moments together in the sun. Things were coming apart now, weren’t they?
“How can I know how to protect myself… if you won’t tell me?” she pressed in a small voice from behind him.
“I’m going to protect you, Masin.”
She tucked her lips in and looked off into nothing. “If you’re going to insist on keeping your secrets, and these kinds of things are going to keep happening to me, to you, and to them”—she gestured toward the rest of the building—“then you are going to put those guns in my skin.” He exhaled, hands on his hips, and dodged her gaze. “I want them, and I don’t care what the cost is. You’re smart, so figure out how to make it less impactful if you truly want it to hurt me less or whatever. I know you can do it. But I feel naked and afraid, like I’m trapped in a storm, never knowing what is going to attack me and from where.”
“I won’t do this to you,” he said tightly.
“What will it take?” she demanded, squaring her shoulders. “If you won’t tell me everything, what will it take?” There was a pause during which Vincent’s eyes grew dark and steely. “I won’t press you to tell me all of your truths, if you promise me you’ll work it out and give me my guns.”
He turned to her abruptly. “Fine, Masin. I’ll do it.”
Surprised, Marielle leaned back on her desk, crossing her arms and looking him over. Since she’d known him, she hadn’t gotten him to cave on anything. But then a thought occurred to her. He had only broken when she’d said she wouldn’t press him. That wasn’t good.
“I’ll figure out a way to make it less invasive and painful for you,” he said with a heavy sigh as he combed his fingertips through his chestnut hair. “But it will take me a little time. Give me a day or two at least. I’m working with Klara on some things, I have to attend to John today, and there’s more still.”
Then he took in a deep pull of air and let it back out slowly, as if releasing something that had been trapped inside of him. His gaze flicked up to her, and he smirked. “That wasn’t too bad, now, was it?” he asked, referring to the fight. Then his expression grew carnal. “So… love now”—he raised one hand, palm up, then the other one—“or love later?” He flicked one eyebrow at her, approaching with a wolfish look. “Or do you want to go a few more rounds and really get it all out so I can pour every ounce of myself into you later?” She couldn’t stop her cheeks from reddening. “You can put up your fists any time, love. I’ll fight you until all of the fight has gone out of you, and then make you mine again.”
He put both hands on her desk and leaned in, caging her. “The desk? The floor? The couch?” he asked, gently kissing her shoulder until she ached for him. “The wall?” he continued. For some reason, that one got the biggest reaction, and a little sound escaped her mouth. “I think we have a winner,” he purred, lifting her up around his torso. At first, she protested a little, but then she wrapped her legs around him and clung like a koala.
Vincent set her against her left wall and pressed into her. “We have a few minutes,” he breathed against her mouth. “Then we go meet the others downstairs for training.” He kissed her deeply. “I can let off a little steam before then, though.”
***
Austin’s eyes were dull with exhaustion, and he looked jittery when he came off the treadmill. He went to a bottle of water and downed the entire thing as he took his earbuds out.
It never seemed to matter how hot the temperature was, Austin stayed covered up. Marielle had never seen a man wear a long-sleeved shirt to go for a run in California’s September heat. What was it, ninety-four degrees outside? What in the world was he hiding? Was it possible that he was just the most modest man in the world, at least until it came to the bedroom? He wasn’t dripping too hard—his powers always kept him from sweating much—but his face glistened, and once again Marielle had to admit she found him attractive in so many ways.
For a moment, she wasn’t sure he’d noticed her. The gym was empty except for him in the far-right corner, and there were mirrors all over that wall; surely he’d seen her. She liked looking at him, and the more she looked at him, the more she wanted him to look at her. How many women, she wondered, had enjoyed looking at Austin Michael Rancor in his lifetime? A hundred? A thousand? Tens of thousands? And here she was, stealing glances at his unbelievably gorgeous face and enjoying it despite the fact that she was sleeping with someone else.
Was there more to him than his looks? There was; she knew there was. He was kind, caring, easy to talk to, funny—heck, sometimes downright hysterical—and charming. He felt emotions deeply, even if he didn’t show it by reacting brashly, which in itself was evidence of a certain form of self-control. Sexual addict? Yes. Self-control? Yes. What a strange dichotomy Austin Rancor was. He was such a child in so many ways. Was that because he liked to “have his fun,” as he’d once said to her, or was it because he was, in fact, still a child inside?
As she had watched him run—and he had run fast, like he’d been running away from something for at least ten minutes before he had stopped for water—she let herself truly wonder about who he was for one of the first times since they had met. Maybe she’d play out scenarios when she was in a safe place later, but for now she allowed herself to open him up like a doctor doing an autopsy and contemplated his past, his present, his potential future.
Broken… You are broken, but why? Why is there such a block when it comes to you? Why can’t I simply push myself to understand more about you? It was a heck of a lot easier on that first day when I read that you were divorced, altered, and bisexual.
It suddenly occurred to her that a few minutes ago, she and Vincent had been against the wall that connected to Austin’s office. Had he heard them? Even if he hadn’t, she was well aware of the fact that he could read her in that way. One look at her, and he’d know that she’d been with Vincent again, so it felt wrong when she approached him as he tossed the water bottle in the trash.
“How are you doing?”
He was panting, coming down from the adrenaline high, but he understood what she meant. “Let’s see.” He looked at his watch. “About seven hours. My skin is itching, and I’m ready to tear it off. Sometimes blowing off some steam—”
Her thoughts broke in. Vincent had said something about blowing off steam just before they’d had sex…
“—helps a little, but certainly not now,” he scoffed, shooting her a glance as he cracked open another bottle and drank some more. “I’m shaky.” He lifted his hand to show her. “That’ll get worse as the day goes on until I get over the hump.”
She cocked her head at him. “When does it usually stop?”
“Once I’ve convinced myself that I’m not going to have the relief I need, and that I have to do something else to manage it.”
“Why don’t you do that every day?”
He shrugged and took several large swallows. “Never had a reason to?” He sat on the only beat-up couch in the room, and she sat with him as he leaned over his knees.
“What would be a reason to?” she asked.
Austin looked like he was thinking. “I don’t know.” Then his expression grew distant, absent. False. He knew exactly what would make him want to stop, he just didn’t know that he could, nor did he want to admit to her right now that it was unequivocally, without a doubt, her.“You don’t know who you are without all of this, do you?” she asked, and knew she’d struck a chord when he turned to her, one eyebrow lifted as if considering it.
“That could be,” he whispered, then sniffed and wiped his nose with his wrist. He was finally breathing a little more evenly. “No one’s ever made me wait, you know?” he said eventually, and she knew she’d better listen because this was important. “No one.” He swallowed several more gulps of water. “What you said earlier in the courtyard, when you said that someone’s made me wait for the first time in my life? You hit the nail on the head. I’ve never had a ‘no.’”
He sighed and raked his hair back. “Well, okay, people have occasionally not shown interest, but I just moved on. Even Erin.” He shook his head. “I had her in bed less than two days after meeting her. So this is new for me. All of it.”
“All of what?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
He wasn’t going to answer her. He was distant again, in some memory for a moment. “Did I ever tell you how old I was the first time I was with someone?” She shook her head and leaned in a little toward him. He chuckled nervously. “I was eleven.” Marielle hated what she knew was coming next. “She was twenty-one.”
She winced and waited a beat, saying the next words carefully. “You do realize you were raped, right?”
He shook his head. “Sure, I understand that’s what it was legally,” he said, with a roll of his left hand, “but I seduced her.”
Marielle was ready to fight him on this one. “No, Austin, you—”
“Listen, I understand it legally,” he repeated, putting even more emphasis on the final word. “But I seduced her.” He tucked his lips in for a moment as trying to hold back what he was about to say. “I watched her, I figured out what she wanted, and I gave those things to her. Then I started saying certain things to her that I knew would make her think about me. Eventually, I made those statements more obvious and mature. I waited until I saw her finally respond to me and I knew I had her.”
Marielle drummed her lip, concern and shock swirling in her head, along with a million other thoughts and feelings. “Who taught you how to do all of that?” she asked in a broken whisper.
Neither of them had noticed that they had closed the gap between them on the couch. Marielle had put her hand on his back when he had said that no one had ever made him wait, and it was still there now as she leaned closer to him. She realized it when he bit his lip, looking directly into her eyes. He wanted that kiss.
“She did,” he said like it was obvious.
Before she even had time to comprehend what this meant, someone walked in on them. Both of them sat back a little. It was Hazal… their Hazal. She was standing with her hands behind her back like a butler, obviously there to announce something. “It’s almost one o’clock.” she announced, then turned and left the room.
Austin and Marielle shifted away from one another as though someone had sat down between them. “Well, that was about the scariest thing that’s happened all day,” she joked.
He smirked, knowing that she was teasing. “What about this?” he asked, and he crossed his eyes and stuck the tip of his tongue out to the left side of his mouth.
She giggled. Stop giggling, Marielle. She shoved him in the upper arm.
“No? This?” He made a severely stupid face, also involving a crossed eye.
“Oh my gosh, stop it,” she chuckled.
“What, this?” Another dumb face. She stuck her tongue out at him in response. “Hey, put that away, young lady, or I’ll show you where you can put it,” he chuckled.
Her eyes widened. “Austin!”
“‘Austin!’” he mocked. Getting to his knees on the couch and moving toward her, he ran his fingertips along her side, tickling a little. She squirmed and laughed, trying to arch away with him grinning at her the whole time.
She flailed her hands at him, and he grabbed her wrists and held them against the back of the couch. Oh, no. He was stronger than she’d expected, and they were playing, yes, but he was enjoying it a little too much.
Austin leaned closer, one hand digging into her ribs, the other pinning her. Laughing and twisting, she tried in vain to get away. They both paused, their eyes locked on one another, panting from the adrenaline and laughter. He looked like he was just waiting for her to beg for a kiss.
“Too much Austin,” she said, trying to catch her breath.
“I know, but… can’t I play?”
“It’s not… smart.”
“I just want to play, Marielle. I never get to play.” That little boy look in his eyes was driving her insane.
“Oh, don’t you act like you don’t want so much more than that,” she balked. -If I don’t stop you—
-You don’t want to stop me.
A pause. Marielle glanced at the doorway, expecting Hazal—or worse, Vincent—to be standing there staring at them, then her eyes met his again.
-Not now, Austin.
–Later? Austin bit his bottom lip.
She turned away from him to hide the shaking that had started, altogether too aware of what was happening.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his tone was rich with shame and genuine remorse. “I’ll go shower.”
He dashed away without looking at her.
Marielle groaned and put her face into her hands. What are you doing, Marielle? Why? Her head hurt.
When Austin came out of the back of the gym, hair wet and a little messy, she felt like there was no way he could have showered so quickly. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told her she’d been sitting there for five minutes, lost in thought. Lost in the feeling of Austin restraining her wrists, his blue eyes on her giggling face as she squirmed under him—not that he had been on top of her, he’d only leaned over her… but that image was going to haunt her for a while. Were her cheeks red? She felt them for heat.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he said.
“I guess… I just got lost in thought?” she asked. He paused for a moment, looking her over and giving her a smirk. They both knew what she’d been thinking about.
Together, they went to the hall and down to the training rooms, wiping smiles from their faces as they entered. Everyone saw, including Vincent, whose shoulders fell as if he knew. Han didn’t look like she was judging; Sabine looked like she was doing nothing but judging. Jamie and Mateo exchanged the kind of glances that signaled they were eager to hear the drama. Sasha’s eyes were full of concern, and Marielle’s heart hurt. Liam looked like the father figure who was planning to have a talk with his children later, and that one of them—probably Austin—was going to be sent to their room. The rest were in varying stages of surprise or looking away awkwardly. The thing that seemed strangest to Marielle was John, who stood next to Liam looking wildly uncomfortable.
Austin and Marielle parted, and went to opposite sides of the line of people. Austin shuffled in near Tala and Sasha – looking like he wanted to be as far from Hazal as possible – while Marielle ended up between Han and Hazal. She turned to Hazal.
“Hi,” she murmured. Hazal looked at her for a moment as if she couldn’t believe Marielle was speaking to her, then casually glanced away. “I—I didn’t know you were back,” Marielle added, rubbing a foot along the floor. The last she’d heard, Hazal had been in Turkey for a short time. They’d never been friends, but knowing that her own double knew male Hazal well in the other dimension made her less frightened to speak with this Hazal.
After a beat of silence, Hazal said, “I heard you met the other me.” She brushed some of the white hair back from her lovely, henna-marked face.
Marielle looked at her with a bit of surprise. Hazal rarely spoke to anyone, and even in their sessions kept her statements to brief sentences, not monologues or stories. “Yeah, that was difficult—and odd. He was a man.” Hazal nodded and swallowed hard. She didn’t seem too shocked or dissuaded from reality, although Hazal always seemed—at least to Marielle, anyway—just a little beyond reality at all times. “He’s dead,” she finished.
Hazal met her eyes and tilted her head a little as if thinking. “Good.” she said firmly. “Then he’s at peace.”
This statement made Marielle’s mind blurry and her chest hurt. She always thought of Hazal as a phantom, a witch who wanted to terrorize all who stood in her path. The more she truly listened to her, however, the more she realized that Hazal was tormented, perhaps even a little crazy. She eyed the side of Hazal’s face for a moment, considering everything Vincent had said about her male counterpart. Could she and Marielle be… friends?
She almost shuddered. She got the impression that male Hazal was a little more… friendly? Attached? Attracted to her? She had no idea, nor was she certain she wanted to know. Male Hazal had tried to assault her, after all. What a strange mix of feelings she was experiencing.
Marielle glanced at Sasha, now understanding why he was having such a hard time after meeting his other self. For the first time, she realized she would never meet her doppelganger because she was dead. She would never experience whatever Jamie, Sasha, and Klara were feeling—at least not with anyone from Vincent’s dimension. How would she have handled coming into contact with her other self? Would she have unraveled? It seemed pointless to consider, but at the same time she couldn’t help herself.
Vincent came to her side and gazed down at her, his brown eyes questioning as they scanned her face with a mix of longing and pleading. Something hidden behind his expression looked the way she imagined a person might after they had just been stabbed by their best friend.
Marielle closed her eyes and swallowed. Vincent, you know that I like him and that I’m deeply attracted to him. You know it. I didn’t do anything, I promise.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he whispered. She let out a tortured breath and nodded.
Liam cleared his throat, but John spoke instead. Most of the time, this kind of thing wouldn’t be allowed, but considering that John hadn’t even been outside of the lab in over five years, Liam didn’t seem offended by his need to speak.
“I don’t like looking like this,” he said, and despite his ability to stay together without phasing or crumbling into a million pieces, his voice still sounded like a distant, rumbling creature of the dark.
Sasha looked like he was considering this as he looked John over thoughtfully. John’s dark skin gave off a purple and blue sheen, his eyes were enormous, gaping lights, and his mouth was a giant black hole that looked like a swarm of wasps would come buzzing from it at any moment.
“I agree,” Sasha said. “I see so many elements of my old friend in you”—he lifted his hand as if to apologize for being offensive, then addressed the room at large—“but he is… jarring.”
Sabine shifted closer to John and reached down, fitting her hand against his. Their fingers intertwined and she squeezed. John squeezed back, flashing her a lightning glance that showed his deep affection for her. Sabine tried to hide their hands, but Marielle saw this, and Sabine gave her a glare that could only be read as, “Shut up.” Marielle looked away with a sigh.
“Maybe we use that to our advantage?” Austin suggested, leaning forward a little.
“No,” Vincent replied, shaking his head as he stepped toward John a little. “They already know what he looks like, and they’re far less scared than you are.”
“Not that I’m trying to be too blunt here,” Tala interjected, twirling her blue hair around her fingers anxiously, “but he’s standing right here. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about him this way in front of him?”
John made a motion with his hands, stopping her. “It’s fine. I know what I look like.”
Vincent raised a hand, brushing the thought away. “Let’s set looks aside for now. We’ll fix that later as best we can. Did you try what we talked about?”
John looked to Liam, who gestured as if to say he had the floor. John squeezed Sabine’s hand again, and let go. She gave him the ghost of an adoring smile. He moved slowly toward the center of the group as they naturally formed a semicircle around him.
“Is everyone going to be safe?” Tala asked.
“We’ll be fine,” Vincent replied with an expectant twinkle in his dark eyes.
John lifted his hands, positioning them as if he was about to press against a glass wall, and took a deep breath. Then he moved both hands forward, as if pushing that wall away, and a burst of black and purple smoke cast itself off his body and began to swirl as it moved across the floor until it became a twisting, dome-shaped vortex. It disappeared quickly, and everyone gasped and turned to him.
“That’s amazing!” Wei Ling cried.
“How can he do that?” Kiritani asked, gesturing at the space where the vortex had been.
“It’s difficult to explain, but I’ll try,” Vincent said. “His body is constantly creating and collecting dust from other dimensions. He can fling it off of himself, and if he focuses, he can make it last for a while.” He turned back to John. “Try it again.”
“What use would that be exactly?” Effia asked, putting her feet on the ground. Her demeanor told everyone that she already knew, but she was asking for the benefit of anyone who hadn’t figured it out yet.
“Well, similar to me and you, he could easily use it to blind or obscure someone’s sight,” Liam interjected, reminding the room that he could do something similar with a swirling orange globe ability he called Sky Smoke.
“Like cover?” Sasha asked.
Vincent nodded. “Try again,” he urged once more with a soft smile. Then he pushed his glasses back up and crossed his arms.
John swallowed and lifted his hands again. This time, he took a slightly different stance as he pushed away from his body. “Cover going out,” he growled, and the spinning vortex of black and purple moved forward to surround Hazal, Han, and Marielle.
The three ladies found themselves inside a giant dome filled with swirling sand. They looked at one another, the smoke moving around their bodies and causing their hair to dance around them. A loud, airy sound like a storm made it difficult to hear anyone or anything. Hazal looked like she loved this and Han smiled, while Marielle waved her hands through the dancing sandstorm and enjoying the little sensations crawling over her skin.
At that moment, both Vincent and Austin jumped in with them from opposite sides. They briefly looked at one another as if curious as to why they’d had the same idea, but after a moment, both men began looking around in wonder.
“Keep it going, John!” Vincent shouted.
“This is incredible!” Austin yelled, putting his hands up onto his hair to feel the dust.
He was nearest to Han, and she leaned towards him. “You’re incredible,” she whispered flirtatiously. He swallowed and gave her a knowing look. A diminutive smile moved over the left side of his mouth as he bent backwards a little, rolling on the balls of his feet.
Marielle glared at the two of them. Austin hadn’t done anything, nor had Han… but how long would it be until they did? Austin looked like he was totally using this to his advantage. She could just hear him in the back of her head now.
Thanks for the induced jealousy there, Han. Marielle is going to see all of this, and right now? It’s going to make her crazy. Perfect timing, sweetheart… Also, let’s meet up after sundown. I’m going to love watching Marielle’s reaction when I confess to her later that we got it on back at my place.
Marielle wanted to gag. Whatever. If Han wanted him, she could have him, and she was sure Han would.
Vincent took her hand and smiled at her. She smiled back, going into his arms. It was fine. Everything was fine.