Dashing Devil Omnibus 1: Books 1-3, page 13
Silvie knew she couldn’t lie; she had to tell the truth. But she couldn’t tell the whole truth. She only hoped that he wouldn’t press her for details—details she couldn’t reveal.
“It wasn’t a report,” Silvie admitted. “I was talking to a… friend.”
Chapter 12 (Omnibus Exclusive)
Boyd’s expression softened slightly at the admission, but the tension in his shoulders remained. Silvie could see the conflict in his eyes as he processed her words. She knew he wanted her to have things like friends; he had voiced a concern that she was condemned to isolation along with him, because she spent all her free time with him at home. Fighting with the relief that she had a friend other than just him, was his skepticism about the situation where he’d discovered this new friend’s existence.
“A friend,” he repeated, tone heavy with disbelief. “And what were you discussing with this friend you’ve never spoken of that requires such secrecy?”
“I can’t tell you.” Silvie realized that telling further lies was not the best way to retain his trust beyond tonight. If she had any hope of salvaging this situation, it was by telling what truths she could. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you we talk.”
Boyd's expression darkened ever so slightly at her words, a storm brewing behind his amber eyes. The tension between them ramped up, filling the air between them. Silvie held her breath, waiting for his reaction.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Boyd finally spoke, his voice low and controlled. “You promised not to tell me that you talk to this friend,” he repeated slowly, as if trying to make sense of the situation. “Why would you make such a promise?”
Silvie flinched again, her mind racing in search of an explanation that wouldn’t dig her deeper into the hole that seemed destined to reach the other side of the planet at this rate. While he was still boxing away his emotions, she only seemed to be making him more and more angry.
“I made the promise a long time ago.” Silvie went with the only defense she had. “I made it back when you weren’t willing even to look at me, let alone talk to me. At the time, it didn’t seem like I would ever have the chance to tell you about them, so it didn’t seem like a big deal. I’m sorry I made the promise, Darling, but I have to keep it.”
Boyd’s silence after this response was deafening. Each passing second felt heavier than the one before. Silvie could feel his eyes boring into her, searching for any hint of deception or betrayal. His jaw clenched and unclenched, a visible sign of his internal struggle. Silvie held her breath, waiting for his reaction. She feared for the worst, yet hoped for understanding.
“While I wish you felt comfortable sharing anything with me at this point, I understand you have a promise to keep.” His tone was still dangerously measured. “I don’t have to like that it requires you to keep secrets from me, but I’ll deal with it… somehow,” the last word came with a growl of frustration that probably meant he wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with it, just that he was determined to find a way.
Then his features softened, and he reached up to gently cup her cheek. His hand was very large, very strong, and very warm where it touched her. The affectionate gesture wiped her worries about this driving a wedge between them away.
“I came up here to tell you that it’s bedtime. You have to be up at six, so you’ll be ready for a pre-patrol meeting at seven.”
She leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hand against her cheek. It was a silent reassurance that their connection was still intact, despite the secrets she had kept. As he reminded her of the early start, she nodded in agreement, gazing up into his amber eyes and relishing the warmth of affection that had returned to them.
“Come on,” he dropped his hand from her cheek and wrapped it around her waist as he stepped up beside her. His big, warm wing settled over her shoulders a second later, pulling her possessively into his side. Her secret friend was more an aid than a threat to their relationship, but since she couldn’t tell him that, she had likely triggered a little jealousy in her big lug.
She nestled into his side, willing him to feel her love and devotion to him through their proximity. While she wasn’t always pleased with the ability he had to suppress his emotions with his Power, she was always grateful for his ability to sense her emotions across their Bond.
“Thank you, Darling, for understanding,” Silvie murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she melted into his embrace.
“Mhmm.” His reply was non-comital as he led her to their shared bedroom.
This reminded her that understanding and acceptance were two different things. There would be future discussions, but those would come after rest.
He helped her change into a nightgown, then pulled her into bed with him, tucking her under his arm. Boyd's arm around her was both protective and possessive, a silent declaration of his commitment. She closed her eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back. The rhythm lulled her into a sense of security that only he could provide.
“Boyd,” she began tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper in the quiet room. “I want you to know that I never meant to keep secrets from you. I just...”
“Shhh,” he interrupted her. “We’ll talk more about it later. For now, you need to rest.”
He shifted, pulling her more snuggly against him. He was a superb cuddler, both soft and firm, warm without being hot, and she had a long day ahead of boring patrols. His presence and concern for her lulled her into a sense of security, and sleep crept up behind it shortly after.
As she drifted off to sleep in his embrace, she whispered softly, “I love you, Darling.”
His response was a simple murmur against her hair, “I love you, too.”
That night, Silvie had a wonderful dream of Mind Witch, Hopewing, her Darling, and herself enjoying a lazy breakfast together, talking about nothing and just being together. It passed as dreams do, light on details but heavy on feeling. It was lovely, something she hoped to emulate in reality at some point.
When she woke up in the morning, her Darling was gone. That wasn’t unusual, though. He only slept about five hours a night before waking up fully rested, and even that was optional. The big lug was never one for sitting around or laying idle, and that hadn’t changed, despite being constrained to the suite.
She floated out of bed and began her search for him, knowing that she wasn’t late for anything because he would have woken her up. The automatic door opened into the hallway before she remembered the events from the night before. A surge of panic filled her, and she blurred through the suite until she found him in the training room, getting in an early morning workout in.
He blinked up at her from where he sat at an oversized arm curl machine. She sucked in a deep breath and reminded herself that she would have been the first one notified if he had fled the Tower to get away from her.
“Good morning, Silvie,” Boyd rumbled with a note of concern in his voice, “is everything okay?”
She hadn’t made any attempt to hide her panic or the relief she felt when she saw he had not run away from her. “Yeah, everything is okay,” she assured him with a sunny smile. “I just wanted to see you.”
“Well, here I am,” he smiled back at her, his larger than average canines gleaming under the gym’s lights.
She avoided swooning, but it was a near thing because she wasn’t prepared for it this early in the morning.
“I set out a selection of muffins for you, but you woke up early enough that I can make you a proper breakfast, if you would like.”
“A muffin sounds good.” Silvie responded with a grin of her own, but then it faltered. “Um, about last night. I feel like—”
“I owe you an apology,” he cut in, standing from the machine and giving her a frown. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I got a stick up my butt about the bank, but I came down on you way too hard about it last night. You’ve been doing great in your training, so unless you need more of an apology, we can drop the topic if you want.”
“Um…” Silvie replied rather succinctly in her confusion. “No, I wanted to talk about our spat.”
“I am.” Boyd looked as bewildered as she felt. “Again, I don’t know why I got so upset about it. Yeah, you need to properly check your corners—especially since you are out there alone—but I didn’t need to be such a hard ass about it.”
“Um…” she replied again. Was this his way of letting her off the hook? By sweeping it under the rug? It wasn’t very Boyd-like, but she shouldn’t complain.
“You weren’t really a hard ass, though,” the response seemed to slip out of her. She didn’t like that he’d apologized to her when she was the one hiding things from him. “There’s no need to apologize. Your reaction was way under what would have been proportionate based on what I did.”
He looked confused, and because he wasn’t back to hiding everything he thought or felt from her, she could tell it was an honest reaction. Had he truly forgotten what happened last night?
“No, it really wasn’t.” He frowned, then shrugged a shoulder and continued with a charming smile. “But, if you are going to let me off the hook, I won’t complain.”
Silvie thought that should have been her line, but wasn’t sure what the heck was going on. She might suspect someone had messed with his mind overnight, but he was hard to sneak up on, even in his sleep. Plus, according to Mind Witch, his mental defenses were solid and trained to the point of no longer requiring a conscious effort. If someone tried to mess with him, he would have reacted at least enough to wake her. She regularly woke to comfort him when he had nightmares.
She would have to run this development past her co-conspirator at her earliest convenience.
For now, her Darling had given her a once over as a familiar heat entered his amber gaze. She was still in her nightgown, and she didn’t really do modesty. Silvie knew she looked good, but her Darling sure knew how to make it clear he knew it, and to remind her of that fact.
“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before you have to start getting ready,” he rumbled in the smooth way that never failed to excite her. It showed her that the Boyd she’d met in the testing was still in there, just part of a greater whole. “If you’re okay with having a quick breakfast, we could…”
“Yes, please!” Silvie nodded enthusiastically, eager to reaffirm their affection for one another as soon as possible. Last night had shaken her badly, and then this morning had confused her. Some fun time was just the thing she needed to settle herself before going out on patrol.
Chapter 13
A few days went by and very little changed. Silver’s mystery boyfriend had its news cycle, and The Authority released a statement that his identity was kept a secret for security purposes. This only confirmed his existence and intensified the media’s lust for gossip. There was endless speculation, of course, but the most prevalent and damaging rumor was the continued assumption that it was someone with authority over the young, innocent, and naive Silver.
Silvie had, of course, been chewed out. She’d maintained that it was an honest mistake, it had just slipped out, and it was their fault for not letting her love be public. A beautiful young woman with the ability to convincingly cry on command was still one of the most dangerous things in the world, Powers be damned. In the end, it was decided that no disciplinary action was necessary.
Boyd continued with his everyday life. He spent long hours in the gym, hours studying Powered Criminal Events, and then supporting and caring for Silvie. There had been no discussion about making his existence public knowledge—or at least none that involved Silvie or Boyd.
Royce said he’d made some headway but not to get his hopes up.
Boyd found himself watching a talk show that had all sorts of theories about who was dating Silver. One of the women insisted that Silver’s boyfriend was the fifty-five-year-old Director of Glorith City’s branch of The Authority. She based this assertion on a photo of them together taken shortly after Silver’s assignment to the city.
Boyd thought that one was particularly funny, because everyone knew that Director Davis was as gay as they came. He’d been much more interested in Boyd than Silvie when they’d met. Boyd had even considered throwing the guy a bone, if it meant getting into the field. He’d quickly discarded the idea as unprofessional and not very heroic.
It was then that he felt it—a sense of dread washed through him, making his spine itch. Something was wrong, very wrong. Silvie was in danger. Boyd didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. And this was not the normal danger associated with the job; things went wrong no matter how good you were. No, this was a real threat, and potentially fatal.
“We interrupt this program with breaking news.” The feed cut to the New2 anchor, an attractive brunette who looked to be in her thirties but was probably closer to fifty. “Silver is under attack downtown by at least three Powered Criminals. We are going live with Kayla Bailey in the field. What’s going on out there, Kayla?”
The feed cut again, this time to a much younger, dark blonde woman in a beige skirt and red blouse. Behind her, Boyd could see people running for cover and in the distance a man stood in the middle of the street, with his arms outstretched and aimed above him. Jagged orange beams of energy extended from the man’s arms into the sky and out of frame.
“We were shooting an interview nearby when Silver was ambushed by a flying Powered Criminal. She knocked that one back, but then a second Powered Criminal hit her with some sort of orange energy that seems to be restraining her. Get the camera on her!” The last was clearly directed towards the cameraman and the view panned up and zoomed in.
Boyd saw her then. There was a field of transparent orange energy surrounding her, holding her suspended about sixty feet in the air. It must represent some sort of telekinetic force—and a strong one—because it had forced her arms behind her back and her spine to bow into what had to be a painful position.
A shard of ice pierced Boyd’s chest. She looked so vulnerable, which was not something Boyd was used to seeing. Another man floated twenty yards in front of her and it looked like he was monologuing, but the microphone couldn’t pick it up.
“Incoming Emergency Communication from Royce,” the synthetic voice called over the speaker system.
Boyd made the gesture that sent Royce’s image to the top right corner of the screen. “Okay kid,” the older man instructed, “don’t do anything crazy. The Bionics are on their way.”
“How long?” Boyd demanded, tension turning his voice into a growl.
It must have been unexpectedly loud, because Royce winced. “They’re mobilizing as we speak. They just need six minutes.”
“Six minutes?!” Boyd shouted, causing every object on the tables and shelves to rattle against the surfaces.
“Yeah, kid. It’s going to be okay. Just sit tight, help is on the…” A high scream of pain cut him off.
The Powered Criminal was holding his hands to the sides of his head, and a beam of green light shot from his forehead to strike Silver in the ribs, burning a hole through her suit. It had to be strong enough to overcome her resistance to energy attacks, because her scream dragged on even though there was no visible damage to her skin.
Silvie’s scream raked at Boyd’s ears and a fist of cold fear clenched his heart.
“Kid! Don’t!” Royce yelled as Boyd spun toward the kitchen.
“Fuck off Royce!” he roared as he sprinted for the balcony.
The door to the balcony opened automatically as the sensors picked up his movement towards it. His wings snapped out as he reached the waist-level glass wall that separated the balcony from the open air beyond. He could sort of sense the direction that Silvie was in from the feeling of dread that had settled around his heart only moments ago. He scanned the skyline in that direction and spotted a building he recognized from the broadcast.
Kicking off with his strong legs and a flap of his powerful wings, he set off at top speed in that direction. He wasn’t as fast as Silvie because his flight was dependent on his wings, while hers came from energy manipulation. His wings were strong, though, benefiting from his Powered strength as much as his arms or legs. The wind whipped against his skin as he propelled himself over buildings, the streets flashing below.
Glorith City was massive, the sixty-foot-high border walls at its distant edge were barely visible, even at this altitude. Their suite was on the one hundred and fiftieth floor in The Tower, out of a hundred and seventy-five floors. It was the tallest building in the city and positioned right at the center.
The buildings closest to it were amongst the tallest in Glorith City, but were only half as high, which gave Boyd an excellent vantage point. Most of the nearby buildings were glass and steel, with a few more colorful ones scattered throughout. One of those buildings had appeared behind Silvie in the broadcast—a big yellow and green checkered monstrosity roughly fifty floors high.
Thirty seconds, which felt like a lifetime to Boyd, passed before he reached the scene. His eyes scanned the situation in the street below, taking in all relevant facts. A second Powered Criminal had joined the one who’d fired the green beam at Silvie. The orange telekinetic was still on the ground holding Boyd’s love in place while his allies launched additional attacks.
The beam must either have needed to be recharged after use, or charged before firing, because the beam user had his fingers pressed to his temples and a look of concentration strained his face. The other flier carried a mace that kicked off arcs of electricity along the half-foot spikes that dotted the large metal ball at its end.
This was likely a melee combatant, and depending on Boyd’s flight speed, his weapon’s short range might not matter. They were all dressed in plain clothes: dark jeans, and zipped-up black leather jackets with white skulls on the back that seemed to mark them as a group.
