Free Super Bad (a Superlovin' novella) by Vivi Andrews Page B

around his sister,
whispering something hurried and low in her ear before releasing her and
stepping back. He opened the door and Julian and Mirage stepped past him into
the night.
    And disappeared.

Chapter Nine: Safe and Of Sound Mind
     
    Mirage hadn’t expected
much of Julian’s safe house—which was good, because it wasn’t much. Oh, it
wasn’t a hovel, but it was empty, unlived-in, expressionless, and mildly
depressing because of its oppressively sterile, blank-slate lack of décor. The
apartment filled the second floor above an unused storefront on a street that
looked like it had seen better days. The place itself was nothing special—a box
of space chopped up into rooms. Galley kitchen, dining-slash-living room, and
two small bedrooms with a Jack-and-Jill bath wedged between. Home sweet
home.
    “It’s private,” Justice
commented, as if sensing her lack of enthusiasm about their new digs. “And the
connection to me is so many times removed, it will take weeks before anyone
thinks to look here, if they ever do. We’re safe enough for now.”
    He dropped the duffle
on the coffee table. Mirage flopped on the couch and tried to pretend she
wasn’t staring at the bag, wishing she had x-ray vision so she could read her
file.
    “Go ahead.”
    She whipped her head up
to find Julian watching her watch the duffle. “Sorry?”
    “Your file. Go ahead
and take a look. That’s why we brought it.” He unzipped the bag with quick,
efficient movements and flipped the manila folder onto her lap. She slapped her
hands on top of it to keep it from sliding to the floor.
    She didn’t look down,
tried not to even feel the worn paper beneath her fingertips. This file had
been her greatest temptation during her moments of clarity these last few
months. She’d thought of stealing a peek a thousand times, but… “Eisenmann said
it could set me back months. That reading about my actions before I could
recall them went against all their protocols—could actually make me fabricate
false memories and confuse things even further.”
    “Eisenmann isn’t here
and his methods haven’t done shit for you. I say it’s time we try full
disclosure.”
    Julian sat down beside
her on the couch, but she was barely aware of his large, well-muscled body so
close to hers. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything beyond the stack of
papers in her lap. Damn, full disclosure sounded good. She wanted to know what
her life had become, even if she had to read it like a book rather than living
it in memory.
    “I could try using some
of my gift,” he suggested, not sounding in the least hesitant, even though the
last time he’d tried, she’d launched him across the room. “Just a little pulse,
like I did at the bank, instead of a full-on attack on the defenses Kevin put
in place. It might be enough to help you sort through what’s true on your own,
rather than trying to force your brain back into shape.”
    Mirage pulled her eyes
away from the still-closed file, though her gaze wanted to stick to it like
taffy, stretching but reluctant to release. She studied Julian—the always
virtuous Captain Justice—and though the sight of him was enough to make
something clench eagerly inside her, she couldn’t make sense of the fact that
he was sitting next to her, offering her whatever she needed, whatever it took.
    “Why are you doing
this? What do you get out of it?”
    Julian’s earnest,
helpful face closed down, his gaze shuttering. “What do you mean?”
    “I know you’re a hero
and you’re supposed to just help people out of the goodness of your soul and
all that crap, but why me? Aren’t there other people who need saving more?”
    “It’s not about who is
most deserving. It’s about the good we can do.”
    “No. No, it isn’t like
that. It’s a choice, who you choose to save and who you leave to the regular
authorities. All supers make choices.”
    Her mother had been one
of those choices. Supers had saved hundreds the day of