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“New kid.”
Ethan peered up from his computer screen, brow creased as he met unreadable black eyes. His heart dropped with dread.
“Me?”
A dark, dramatic brow arched, and that looming figure slouched, arms folding atop the flimsy cubicle ridge, sharp chin resting upon muscled forearms.
“You know another new kid in this agency?”
“I was just asking,” Ethan said carefully, his tone neutral, “since I don’t see any kids around here. Do you?”
Firm lips quirked, and for a second those eyes sparked with something more than cold, hard appraisal.
“You can’t be more than nineteen. That’s a kid in my book.”
“I’m twenty-four,” Ethan said, his posture ramrod straight in his seat as he kept hold of the pro hero’s glinting gaze. “And if memory serves, you’re not. Now, may I ask what I can help you with – Alexei, is it?”
Of course Ethan knew his name. Everyone knew his name.
Ethan may have been older, but there was no question who was the senior member of Reliant Agency’s British division.
“Cain,” he replied quickly as he pushed off the divider wall and rounded the cubicle into Ethan’s. “You and everyone else call me Cain.”
Ethan frowned as he spun in his desk chair, his stomach fisted up tight the longer Cain lengthened this first meeting. If there was anyone he didn’t want anything to do with in this agency, it was this guy. Pro hero partners of the infamous spike-wielding warrior dropped like flies, and everyone knew it. It was the very reason Ethan had been shipped from American headquarters to Britain.
“You use your hero moniker as your as common name?”
Scarred, bruised-knuckled hands slipped into the taut pockets of slim, black leather biker pants as Cain bent forward and leaned in with a smile like a bone-white scythe. Their faces were too close and Cain smelled like hot asphalt stretching through endless miles of scorching, barren desert.
“Cain is all of me, sunshine. And I hear talk you’re Abel – that right? You name yourself after me? I’m flattered.”
Fingertips digging into the arms of the chair, Ethan felt his cheeks burn as he cocked his head, scrambling for semblance of reply. How could a man’s eyes be so void of color?
“Maybe you picked Cain because Abel was already taken.”
“No hero picks a dead man’s name to live up to,” Cain replied, eyes narrowed as he scanned Ethan’s flushed face.
“No hero picks a cast out murderer’s name, either,” Ethan said, grinding his back teeth against the telling waver in his voice. Everyone had warned him that this guy was intense –dangerous, even. But this was more than he’d expected upon first meeting.
A beat of silence sizzled between them, vanished with the humidity of their shared breath.
A rough palm lightly patted Ethan on a cheek as Cain stood to his full height and took a step back. Hands on his hips, he considered Ethan’s speechless countenance for a moment and grinned.
“Guess that makes us as good a pair as any. Get dressed, sunshine. I’m showin’ you the ropes.”
Glasgow smelled like industrial smoke and fresh rain, and distant fish and chip shops of vinegar and grease. Chatter was incessant, the crowds roiling and boisterous despite the now eased-up drizzle. Ethan boggled at the sheer amount of people who couldn’t be bothered to even carry an umbrella. The rain was treated the same as a second skin, here.
The ebb and flow of languages tumbled upon them with the rain as Ethan gave Cain a wide berth, following him down toward what he understood was one of the main streets, Buchannan.
“What kinda defensive hero are you, anyway?” Cain said, thumbs hooked in his utility belt, sidling up beside Ethan as they turned onto the cobblestone pedestrian street, as wide as a four lane road and jumbled with locals and tourists from all directions. “The kind who just stands around hoping nobody notices them or –“
“I can fight,” Ethan said, running his hand through the damp drizzle that clung to his pale hair. “Did you read my file?”
“Hell no,” Cain said, his face unimpressed and impassive as he narrowly avoided an incoming flock of boisterously laughing teenage girls who, as born and bred Scots, seemed to feel no need to even zip their jackets in the winter drizzle. “You guys never stick around long enough for it to matter.”
Ethan aimed a quiet, considering look at Cain’s strong profile. The prominent nose, the stern set of mouth, the choppy black mop of here streak with lightning strikes of blue.
“And what kind of hero are you?”
A hand shot out, wrenching a gasp from Ethan’s lips as they stopped dead, Cain’s fingertips firm at the scruff of Ethan’s neck. Warm, dry lips brushed against Ethan’s ear, but the words were cold steel.
“The kind of hero who’ll leave your pretty ass behind if you hold me back from doing my job. Got that, sunshine?”
In the span of a single exhale, an invisible fist of force field flashed from Ethan’s bones, radiating out with a punch of force, stumbling Cain back a few steps.
Unfathomable eyes wide with the first trace of humanity – of shock – Cain caught his balance, the stream of traffic flowing between the gap created between them as they stared each other down. Ethan tamed the thundering of his heart, raising his soft voice above the crowd.
“I’m not your sunshine.”
Dodging flying globs of burning acid spit was not the way Ethan envisioned ending his day, but the life of a hero was never certain – and that was certain.
“Cain!”
Arms out, Cain stared down at his black leather jumpsuit, and the stain of acid beginning to eat away at the front of his uniform.
Before Cain could react, Ethan emitted a barrier around the two of them, yanked at the zipper down the center of Cain’s chest, and roughly peeled it down. Halfway through, Cain got the picture and struggled his arms out of the taut sleeves until the top half of the melted uniform hung prone over his utility belt. Ethan flinched as a rain of acid splattered against the barrier he held, sparks hissing and flying where the blobs made contact.
“Get out of my way,” Cain said as soon as he was free to move, shoving past Ethan to step before him.
Ethan whipped around, keeping close to Cain’s bare, scarred back.
“Cain, be care-“
A streak of burning pain seared the corner of Ethan’s mouth. The protective barrier flickered and fell as Ethan clamped a hand over his bleeding lips, eyes huge as he jumped back from the vicious array of bone spikes that ripped from Cain’s back like jagged, vicious teeth.
“Don’t get in my way, sunshine,” Cain said, not bothering to look over his daggered shoulder.
A wad of acid came flying and, like a cowboy pulling his gun in a shoot out, Cain yanked spikes from his shoulders and launched them with quickfire precision.
Ethan saw it before Cain did. The spit burned through Cain’s bone projectiles like melted butter.
Dropping his hand from his mouth and letting the blood flow down his pale uniform, Ethan’s palms shot forward. Invisible pulses flung forth, barriers like bullets impacting the acid and flinging it aside to spatter and melt brick and stone.
“Get behind me!” Ethan yelled, grinding his teeth as he surveyed the scene, the green, hunched over man at the far end of the alley, the volleys of acid he fended off with blast after blast.
“Only way I’m getting behind your ass is if I’m fu- oof.”
Ethan encased his body in the barrier and promptly shoved Cain aside with the entire weight of his body, the spines jutting from Cain’s arms undoubtedly leaving bruises on Ethan’s side later, but unable to pass through the protective shell.
“Let me protect you, dammit!” Ethan winced as a rocket of acid slammed into his shoulder and sent him stumbling, dizzy. “The spit burns right through your –“
A shower of globs volleyed towards them from above, the villain racing forward at full speed.
Legs shuddering under the weight of barrier he now built anew, Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, centered himself and ejected a vast flash of light, blinding a diamond hard. He felt the impact of the villain against the shell, the rain of acid disintegrating upon contact.
Then, nothing.
Dropping to his knees, lungs heaving, Ethan gaped at the concrete, the blood from his sliced lip dripping to the ground.
“Holy shit.”
Ethan glanced over, swallowing hard, tasting copper as he eyed the man next to him.
“Holy shit,” Cain said again, hands on his naked waist. His speech sounded vaguely accented – Slavic, Russian? – his eyes bright, a grin cracked across his face as he stared ahead at something Ethan couldn’t see. “You fuckin’ blew the bastard up, sunshine.”
“I – what?” Ethan looked to where the villain had been and saw nothing. “That’s – that’s new. Ugh.”
Struggling to his feet, his knees weak, Ethan swiped the back of his hand across his bloodied chin.
“Oiy,” Cain said, marching over, his gaze hot. “You pushed me before.”
Ethan raised his eyebrows.
“And you cut me.”
Cain’s attention flicked down, lingered.
With a yelp, Ethan found himself spun in a band of bare, strong arms and thudded back against the grimy alley wall. The mouth that descended upon him was hot and eager, tongue skilled and searching, urging Ethan’s burning lips apart to lap up the blood and lick him out like a man conquering land. Melting against the onslaught, Ethan opened, surrendered, an unbidden moan devoured by that merciless mouth.
Cain pulled away just as quick as he’d attacked, his high cheekbones flushed, choppy bangs catching on his thick eyelashes. Their noses brushed, Cain’s expression unreadable, Ethan’s face flushed, mouth agape.
“That was fun,” Cain said, his voice husky.
“What –“
“Let’s head back.” Cain turned away, gesturing with a flippant wave for Ethan to follow. “Your first day is done, and you might need stitches for that thing.”
Speechless and reeling, Ethan raked his hands over his face and followed.
“Hey,” Cain said, shooting a smirk over his shoulder. “Maybe you’ll keep a little longer than the rest.”
Keeping a distance from Cain’s back, but never losing sight of it in the crowd, Ethan wondered if what Cain said was a blessing or a curse.