Page 91 of Meet Me In The Dark

“I for one, am just proud of you, baby,” Micah said, love and approval in his voice. More seriously, he said, “Are you okay? That was terrible to watch, I can’t imagine how terrible it was to experience.”

Kara paused, observing her body. Her heart was racing, but her hands were solid.

“I want to puke,” she said. “And I’ll probably be a mess later. But for now I’m fine.”

She didn’t have a chance to say more, as boots pounded down the hallway. The next few moments were a blur of gunshots and yelling, until they were surrounded by a pile of dead bodies.

Kara didn’t relax though. Not while Micah and Conor disappeared to make sure the rest of the building was clear.

As they waited, Kara rinsed her mouth out with the single water bottle they had left.

“I’m going to whip your ass with my belt for this,” Luke warned her. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Kara shook her head, feeling vulnerable and a little shaky as the adrenaline began to wear off. “It was awful. Absolutely horrifying. But I’d do anything to keep you all safe.”

“Come here,” he said gruffly. She leaned against his good side. “I’m proud of you, and grateful,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her.

She pulled away. “You can’t?—”

“Sweetheart, I thought I was going to lose you. Forever. You think a little blood from our enemies is going to stop me from kissing you? Nothing could stop me.” And then his lips were on hers, his taste replacing the metallic taste. His mouth, his heat, helped prevent the shakes.

Conor and Micah reappeared in the cell, covered in blood.

“Clear,” Micah said. “And I found a SAT phone and made a call to Marcus. Billy’s fine—he had to parachute out of the plane, which is what took them so long. They’re coming to get us.”

Oh, god.

They were okay.

Everything was going to be okay.

Kara inhaled and exhaled, and then suddenly there were three large, warm men surrounding her, holding her tight and wrapping her in love and safety.

Finally, stepping back, they released her.

“What do we do about him?” Luke asked, nodding toward Chris.

“It’s Kara’s decision,” Conor said, and his words galvanized her to move.

She stepped across the small room to where Chris still lay in the center, crushed under the dead guard lying on him. Her feet were soaked in the blood pooling across the floor, and she didn’t care. She was covered in blood, she could taste it, and even though she hadn’t been lying—she did want to vomit—she’d also never, ever, felt more alive.

“Help me move the body,” she said to the others. Micah reached down, easily rolling the dead guard off to the side, revealing Chris. The professor’s eyes were glassy with pain and shock, his breathing labored, one hand covering the bleeding stump sticking out from his crotch. Kara surveyed him with satisfaction. She’d done that. She was the reason for his pain. He’d hurt her—but she’d hurt him more.

Good.

“Kara,” Chris whimpered. “Please. I’ll give you anything,” he gasped. “Anything. Money, power, whatever you want, I’ll?—”

She shook her head, unsure how she’d ever seen anything in him. She wasn’t that lost little girl anymore. “No thank you. I have everything I’ll ever want, or ever need. And I have you to thank for that, Chris, because I’d never have found them if it weren’t for you.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s not enough to save you.”

His already glassy eyes went wide as she held out her hand.

“I have to say, I’m really loving this Dark Phoenix thing,” Luke remarked as he handed her the knife. “Beats Kryptonite Pussy any day.”

Laughing, both solid in her body and exhilarated in her mind, she accepted it.

“I told you, didn’t I?” she asked Chris.

“Told me what?” he wheezed.

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