1

The Vigilant Society hit the streets – polling contacts, chasing leads. One of their number had disappeared, and they wouldn’t stop until they found her.

To Starchaser, it didn’t feel like enough. He hit the streets running, and nobody else could run like him. Buildings blurred around him as he raced down alleyways the Society usually left undisturbed. He found his destination: a laundromat that would have been innocuous if not for the ornate graffiti outside and armed guards inside. The headquarters of the Knifejacks.

None of those guards had time to react as he zoomed in the front door and straight to the office upstairs. Even when he stopped, everything around him was still in slow motion. When he was agitated like this, his speed just didn’t turn all the way off. He had time to take in the small, smoke-stained office; time to watch the burly boss behind the desk, Samuel, almost choking on his cigar; time to see the rough men in plain suits, moving like they were drawing their guns through cold molasses.

The boss recovered his wits before anyone else. He waved off the guards with one hand. “Oh, put those away. Shooting at a speedster’s worse than shooting yourself in the foot. What do you want, cape?”

It wasn’t hard for a regular criminal to look at Starchaser and know he was outclassed. That was why the Society’s suits were all so flashy and recognisable. Starchaser’s was like a full-body diving suit, tight and aerodynamic. The blue base almost matched his hair, while the gold accents went with his eyes. Even behind his goggles, their glow made them visible.

Starchaser bowed low to look the boss in the eye. He focused on enunciating clearly, carefully, and above all, slowly enough for him to understand. “Dynamo Dame disappeared in the middle of patrol. She was on Sycamore Street when her comms cut out. We know that’s your turf. Where is she?”

“Wha – you think we have something to do with that?”

“Come on, man, no.” Starchaser pinched the bridge of his nose. One benefit to super-speed: he could take deep breaths and count to ten in less than a second. He wasn’t Vendetta; he wasn’t going to grab someone by the ankle and hang him over an alleyway until he got answers. He had to do this his own way.

So he blurred around the desk and put his hand companionably on Samuel’s back. “Look, Samuel, I know you guys. The ‘Knifejacks’? That’s just a scary name so people stay out of your territory. You keep it small-time, so we don’t have any real need to stop you. You did good shit last year, though, during that mess with the police commissioner and the brain-riders.” Long story. “Point is: I know you didn’t do it, but it happened in your backyard. You don’t want them to get away with it any more than we do! So if you tell me what you know – and you’ve got to know something... ” He eyed the guards, their trigger-fingers still clearly itchy. “ ... then I’ll be on my way.”

Samuel grimaced. He didn’t like making a deal with capes any more than the rest of the team would like making a deal with him. But on the other hand, it was a nice opportunity to point the Vigilant Society at someone else and pull the trigger. “Whoever it was, they were fast. By the time Greg Six-Knives went to check out the commotion, he just saw some men in black turtlenecks bundle into a van and drive away.”

Great. Not much of a—

“What kind of van?” a woman asked over his earpiece.

Mystery, the team’s gadgeteer. Had she been listening the whole time? Starchaser tried not to think about that while he passed the question on.

Greg Six-Knives, a skinny man with his tie loose, stepped forward. “Unmarked. Like, it didn’t even have a license plate.”

Mystery laughed in his earpiece. “That narrows it down. Most people use changing or fake plates, not just none. What about their weapons?”

Starchaser faded into autopilot, repeating Mystery’s questions. While she tracked down their quarry, he let his mind wander.

To Dynamo Dame. He pictured her in his mind: a pretty blonde woman with an easy smile and blue eyes that sparkled even when they weren’t glowing with power. She was short, barely five feet, but she seemed taller because of her cheerful presence, because of her flight ... and, yeah, because of her curves. Her body more than lived up to her initials, and her costume flattered it.

His mind stuck on an image, the poster he’d hung up in his room months before he’d joined the team. She used her flight to recline in the air, striking a salacious pose. Her knees pointed up, letting the camera highlight her thigh-high boots and the tennis skirt floating about her thighs. The pose obscured the belly cut of her crop top, though still showed how tightly the fabric hugged to her chest, and her cape spread wide and fluttered in the background. But however much the camera liked her legs, her face still always caught most of his attention. Her mask was a band across her upper face, wider than a domino mask. It was enough to conceal her identity, but not the smile that brightened her whole face, all the way to her eyes. All her costume was done in shades of blue – lighter on the top and skirt, darker on the boots and cape – to complement her glowing eyes.

Two words from Mystery pulled him out of his reverie. “Found them.”

Time for action. He thanked Samuel and Greg, then he was gone. Three seconds and several city blocks later, he stopped – he didn’t want to outrun his words before the earbud caught them. “Who?”

“Blackfist – a bunch of mercenaries who think they’re high-tech. Looks like they’re planning to auction her over the dark web tonight. They posted from behind seven proxies, which is adorable, but I have their IP address right here. They have a walled compound in the city.”

“Where?” Starchaser strained to make sure he’d hear her. As his pulse grew faster, the world around him slowed again.

“Easy, stallion. Give me five minutes to mobilise, then I’ll give you the location.”

Five minutes sounded like an eternity. They’d already had her for hours, and he had no idea what they’d been doing to her. But he bit back his complaints. He’d just have to hope she could hold out a little while longer...

2

Dynamo Dame hung in darkness. The blindfold they’d put on her cut off all light, and it was so tight it pressed down on her eyelids to keep them shut. She strained her hearing, listening for any sign of where she was or who was nearby, but soon after they’d secured her, they’d left her all alone. She only heard the slight creaking of the metal cables that bound her.

They looped several times around her wrists, keeping her hands pointed uselessly at the ceiling. More wrapped around every inch of her body – along all her limbs, over and under her shoulders, around her waist and hips, everywhere. That distributed her weight so she could just hang there without putting too much strain on any one limb. Clearly, they were prepared to keep her there for long, aching hours.

Without the use of her hands, she couldn’t aim her powers. And if she channelled her lightning anyway, the cables tightened and grew hot. She’d already tried it, though she hadn’t pushed the limits to see how badly those cables could burn. She didn’t want that kind of pain.

She was ... helpless. Just thinking that word made her shudder. She yearned, she ached. But her captors just left her hanging there.

She pulled against the cables on her wrists, trying to lift herself. Her arms weren’t built for it; she only ever used her pull-up bars to practice her floating. Soon, she sagged back. The cables creaked around her and pulled against her as her whole body just swung back and forth. She had no idea how long she stayed like that, no way to measure the time kept in that torturous mix of bondage and solitude.

But eventually, she heard a commotion outside. Shouts turned into shooting, the electric whoosh of energy weapons. Then an alarm blared, loudly enough to make her flinch and wish she could cover her ears. It cut off after maybe five seconds. The Vigilant Society had arrived.

Hope bloomed in her rapidly-thundering heart. She strained against her bonds to try to get closer to those sounds and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Here! I’m here!”

3

Starchaser cocked his head, looking up from the alarm box he’d just smashed. “Wait, did you hear—”

Mystery pointed. A beam from her gauntlet painted a red dot on one of the smaller buildings in the compound. “There!”

Say no more. As Starchaser ran towards it, he built up raw power, pounding through his limbs. He focused it into his fist until it glowed and crackled like lightning, then hit that door like a thunderbolt. It burst off its hinges, and he left the fragments behind him as he raced in.

Inside was darkness, bare concrete walls ... and her.

Dynamo Dame hung suspended from the ceiling. The ropes – no, cables – wrapped like a harness around her whole body. Before he could even think of the dangers, he was right there beside her. “We’re here,” he whispered. “We’ve got you.”

“Star?” She turned her blindfolded face towards him, following the sound of his voice. “Star, is that – oh, thank God—” He expected her to sag with relief. Instead, she stretched towards him. Even without real leverage, she leaned closer until she could bury her face in his neck. “Thank God you’re here, thank God. It’s been so horrible...”

Her breath felt so hot against his skin. As he supported her with an arm around her waist, her body felt so warm, so soft. But damn it, that wasn’t the time for sexy thoughts. Mystery caught up, and while she inspected the machine connected to the cables, he tugged at the blindfold. “What did they do to you?” He could only ask it in a whisper, but he had to know if he had to go back and punch them harder.

Dynamo Dame’s breath caught in her throat, a grimace of displeasure twisting her lips. When she spoke, her voice cracked. “Nothing!”

That caught him right as he got the blindfold off her, and he just ... dropped it. “What?”

The floodgates opened. She used his arm as leverage to squirm closer, pressing herself as tightly to him as she could. “They tied me up and then they just left me here! I cried, I begged, but they wouldn’t even touch me!” Between words, she pecked heated kisses over his shoulder, over his neck. “But you’re here now. You’ll fuck me, right? I need you to fuck me, I need it.”

Starchaser became acutely aware of every soft curve leaned against his body. Acutely aware of the heat of her breath, the fervour of her words. Acutely aware of that hazy, wanting look in her eyes, shining behind her mask. Acutely aware of how those cables framed every part of her beautiful body, nudged her skirt that little bit higher, and pulled her top more tightly across her breasts.

... and he became acutely aware of Mystery looking on, her eyes wide and bewildered behind her glasses. She mouthed one word: ‘Reinforcements!’

“N-Now really isn’t the time, Deedee!” It was true. But it still physically hurt to resist her.

Especially when she flinched, pained shock in her eyes, then redoubled her nibbling. Soon, her lips were at his ear. “But you’re a speedster, right? We can have a quickie, right? Then you can untie me...”

Of course, Mystery finished her hacking right then. The cables retracted and dropped Dynamo Dame right into his arms. “The car’s waiting, but Blackfist aren’t. We need to be gone.”

Dynamo Dame stared at Mystery like it was her first time seeing her. With a mournful mewl, she ducked her head. It was different from before: now she was hiding. He could feel the heat of her rising blush.

Less than a minute later, the ladies were both strapped into Mystery’s sleek, black car, with Starchaser running alongside it, easily keeping pace.

He’d thought he would relax once they’d rescued her. Instead, his mind was still whirling, to the point that breaking city speed limits felt like a light jog.

And gave him plenty of time to think about how it felt to have Dynamo Dame crushing herself into his chest, nibbling on his ear...

4

Over two hours later, Dynamo Dame was finally free. Mystery had treated her burns in the infirmary while Vendetta had debriefed them all. She’d had a long, hot shower and changed into a tank top and sweats, plus the ever-present mask that made her feel like Dynamo Dame.

Finally, she flopped into her quarters. Now, she would be alone with her thoughts. She hadn’t been looking forward to that.

Fuck, she felt like such an idiot. She’d thrown herself at Starchaser, and why? Just because she’d been tied up for a little while? And right in front of Mystery, too. She was just lucky neither of them told Vendetta about her outburst. At least, not in front of her.

Why couldn’t she have just controlled herself? What would they think of her now they knew how weird she was? Would they tease her, say they had to keep the zipties and cuffs away from her? Starchaser had stared at her through the whole debriefing, then vanished. Was he horrified? Was he—

A knock interrupted her train of thought. Good, she needed a distraction. She rubbed her face as she went to the door, then froze up.

Starchaser. With his tall, lean frame, he had to hunch forward to fit under the doorway. Dynamo Dame took longer than she needed, looking over his fit, runner’s physique. Sure, that suit of his didn’t show skin, but it was tight, and she still hadn’t done anything to ... clear her head. When she did finally look all the way up at his face, she found him staring again, his gold-eyed gaze intense. A soft flush across his cheeks mirrored the blush she felt heating her own face.