These Boots Were Made for Stomping by Julie Kenner Page A

across his wrists, as vibrant as a white-hot flame. But his fingers still wiggled
     and, more important, he could move them in front of him and look at them.
    He was free!
    “You’ve still got it, buddy,” he said to himself, ignoring his aching wrist as he tightened his grip on the device and headed
     for the door. He said a silent plea to Zeus that it would be unlocked, because he really didn’t want to waste his last laser
     charge busting out.
    Fortunately, luck was on his side, and he found himself in a long hallway. He skulked down it, darting into a supply closet
     and pulling on a white lab coat. Not the best of disguises, but it would have to do. And, it turned out, not a bad choice.
     Because when he got to the end of the hall and stepped into the cavernous space accented by a centerpiece jumble of wires,
     cables, tubes and pulleys, he saw that the only other people in the room were clad as he was—as out-of-place dental hygienists
     or CSI wannabes.
    In fact, he realized as he circled the room, the only one not in a lab coat was Lydia. She was in the center of the machine,
     highlighted from the front by a shaft of light that came from the single glass panel in the otherwise thick, metal-domed room.
     The light cast odd shadows on her face, making her looked scared and frightened. Not that he blamed her.
    He grabbed a clipboard from a nearby table and walked toward her, head high and with purpose in his step. He used the attached
     pen to bang a rhythm as he walked.
    “Don’t quit your day job,” she said, the fire in her voice clear. “I’m thinking evil thug’s flunkie is going to do you much
     better than percussionist.”
    “And here I thought I’d found my calling,” he said, delighting when he saw the fire in her eyes change to a different kind
     of heat. She’d recognized him. And then his heart sank again when she pulled back into herself, her face turning to steel.
    “So do you believe me now? ”
    “Lydia, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
    She cocked her head. “You do believe me.”
    “Of course.”
    “Why? Because your little lie detector said so?”
    “I believe you , Lydia. And I’m sorry I doubted you even for a second.”
    Her expression softened. “Yeah?”
    He couldn’t help his smile. “Yeah. But I’m not so sure now’s the time to talk about it.”
    She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Right.” She drew in a breath. “So you’re going to rescue me, right? I mean, I’m
     a mortal and you’re a superhero. And that’s what superheroes do, right?”
    There was a new harshness in her words that stung. “Lydia?”
    “It’s okay. I know you were only interested in me because—well, because you thought I was like you. And I know it’s absurd
     to tell you this right now, but I’m pretty attached to this thing, and I don’t think I’m getting out of here alive. So I’m
     going to do something I never would have done a few days ago, and that’s tell you that I like you. A lot. I’ve probably even
     fallen in love with you. Or, I don’t know, I think maybe I’ve been in love with you my whole life. But it’s okay. You don’t
     have to love me back. I get the difference between us. I’m not stupid.”
    “You’re acting it,” he said, her words flowing over him like honey. She was falling in love with him .
    She blinked. “What?”
    “There’s something between us. It’s not going away because you weren’t born a Protector.”
    Surprise and hope filled her eyes, and he expected her to shout out joyously that she loved him. Instead, hesitation crowded
     her eyes. “There’s not . . . it wouldn’t . . .” She drew in a breath. “You have to know, it would never work between us. I’m
     not like you. I’m a fraud. Without the shoes, I’m a total wimp, and—”
    “I don’t care,” he said firmly.
    Her smile was wobbly. “Maybe you do and maybe you don’t,” she said. “But I care, Nikko. I do. And I don’t want you to have
     less of a