still felt from being with Talon. Then, I re-dressed the superhero in his hat, boots, pants, leg harnesses, and weapons. I hesitated when I came to the bloody shirt. It went against all my supersenses, especially my nose, to put that nasty, smelly thing back on him, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t take him out in the snow half-dressed.
The leather shirt had shrunk from being wet, and I struggled to get the stiff fabric onto Talon’s body, but I managed by duct taping the leather together when I couldn’t get the zipper in the back to close. The same thing went for his pants. First, I’d taken them off, and now I wrapped tape over certain sensitive areas to make sure they didn’t get frostbite. I really was a superfreak.
Talon looked so calm, so comfortable, so sexy sleeping on my couch I almost changed my mind. Then I remembered how he kept calling me Nightingale and what would happen if he found out who I was. How disappointed he’d be. My resolve hardened.
Now I had another problem—where to take the G-man superhero. I wasn’t just dumping him in the street. He’d freeze to death before the pill wore off. So, where could I stash him? The blizzard had shut down everything, even Quicke’s restaurant, according to SNN.
I paced back and forth in front of the couch, zipping and unzipping the pockets on my vest, as if they held a space where a superhero could sleep off a pill and the lingering effects of a blinding gas. My vest held a lot of things, but that, unfortunately, was not one of them. My keys were in one of the pockets, and I pulled them out, spinning them around and around on their silver ring. I kept shooting looks at Talon, making sure he was unconscious, which was why I rammed my right knee into the kitchen table.
“Ouch!”
I put a hand on the edge of the table, catching myself before I did a complete nose-dive, but my keys slid from my grasp. They smacked on the table, before bouncing off onto the floor. I winced at the harsh clang. Cymbals clashing together in my ear couldn’t have sounded any louder. But the jangling keys gave me an idea. In addition to the ones for my loft and office, the ring held another very important key—the one to the convention center.
That was where I was going to take Talon. It would be warm, and the superhero would be safe until he woke up. The center was only a couple of blocks away, and was big and anonymous. Talon would have no idea where he’d come from—or more importantly, who had taken him there.
One problem solved. Now, how to get the superhero out of my apartment and over to the center without anyone seeing us? I wasn’t putting him back in a garbage bag and dragging him through the street, but I couldn’t call a cab either. Talon would find a way to trace it back to me, if the cabbie didn’t automatically lock the doors and drive my ass straight to the police station.
My eyes fell on my chair, the same one I’d used to maneuver Talon into my bathroom. No, I couldn’t use that either. There was no one way it would roll through the snow. I needed something that would glide. Something I could push or pull. Something like … a sled.
I frowned and looked over at the boxes lining one wall. They might have been twenty feet away, but I could read the small, white labels clearly. Piper had insisted we label every single box when she’d helped me move. She’d even brought her own label maker to ensure it was done to her satisfaction. My eyes traced over the boxes. Dishes. Towels. Books. DVDs . My gaze latched on to a label that said Abby’s Old Stuff .
Because it was the biggest and longest, that particular box huddled on the bottom of the pile. Naturally. I marched over, shoved the other boxes off it, and ripped open the top. The cardboard box contained the assorted random stuff I’d stored in my mom’s garage over the years. She’d foisted it off on me when I’d moved into the loft, but I hadn’t had the time or inclination
The leather shirt had shrunk from being wet, and I struggled to get the stiff fabric onto Talon’s body, but I managed by duct taping the leather together when I couldn’t get the zipper in the back to close. The same thing went for his pants. First, I’d taken them off, and now I wrapped tape over certain sensitive areas to make sure they didn’t get frostbite. I really was a superfreak.
Talon looked so calm, so comfortable, so sexy sleeping on my couch I almost changed my mind. Then I remembered how he kept calling me Nightingale and what would happen if he found out who I was. How disappointed he’d be. My resolve hardened.
Now I had another problem—where to take the G-man superhero. I wasn’t just dumping him in the street. He’d freeze to death before the pill wore off. So, where could I stash him? The blizzard had shut down everything, even Quicke’s restaurant, according to SNN.
I paced back and forth in front of the couch, zipping and unzipping the pockets on my vest, as if they held a space where a superhero could sleep off a pill and the lingering effects of a blinding gas. My vest held a lot of things, but that, unfortunately, was not one of them. My keys were in one of the pockets, and I pulled them out, spinning them around and around on their silver ring. I kept shooting looks at Talon, making sure he was unconscious, which was why I rammed my right knee into the kitchen table.
“Ouch!”
I put a hand on the edge of the table, catching myself before I did a complete nose-dive, but my keys slid from my grasp. They smacked on the table, before bouncing off onto the floor. I winced at the harsh clang. Cymbals clashing together in my ear couldn’t have sounded any louder. But the jangling keys gave me an idea. In addition to the ones for my loft and office, the ring held another very important key—the one to the convention center.
That was where I was going to take Talon. It would be warm, and the superhero would be safe until he woke up. The center was only a couple of blocks away, and was big and anonymous. Talon would have no idea where he’d come from—or more importantly, who had taken him there.
One problem solved. Now, how to get the superhero out of my apartment and over to the center without anyone seeing us? I wasn’t putting him back in a garbage bag and dragging him through the street, but I couldn’t call a cab either. Talon would find a way to trace it back to me, if the cabbie didn’t automatically lock the doors and drive my ass straight to the police station.
My eyes fell on my chair, the same one I’d used to maneuver Talon into my bathroom. No, I couldn’t use that either. There was no one way it would roll through the snow. I needed something that would glide. Something I could push or pull. Something like … a sled.
I frowned and looked over at the boxes lining one wall. They might have been twenty feet away, but I could read the small, white labels clearly. Piper had insisted we label every single box when she’d helped me move. She’d even brought her own label maker to ensure it was done to her satisfaction. My eyes traced over the boxes. Dishes. Towels. Books. DVDs . My gaze latched on to a label that said Abby’s Old Stuff .
Because it was the biggest and longest, that particular box huddled on the bottom of the pile. Naturally. I marched over, shoved the other boxes off it, and ripped open the top. The cardboard box contained the assorted random stuff I’d stored in my mom’s garage over the years. She’d foisted it off on me when I’d moved into the loft, but I hadn’t had the time or inclination
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