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  “Later. Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” she challenged. Wendra thumped his chest with the heel of her hand, feeling contrary and frustrated beyond bearing.

  “You must belong to us completely first.”

  “What in crap tarnation does that mean?” She’d asked out of her temper, and wasn’t at all certain she actually wanted his answer.

  “You belong to us now. We have all agreed.” He raised her upwards, inside his embrace, so their gazes met.

  His conflicted feelings burned like a bonfire in his dark jade eyes. She’d been in awe of and in love with the enigmatic force of his gaze and the exotic color of his eyes since he’d watched her swimming in her backyard pool, just before she’d left her parents’ home to go out on her own. With her entire being, she’d longed to pursue her dream of becoming a free-form dancer at the top nightclubs. Back then, her world had been full of hope and promise.

  “Wendy, we will dominate you sexually until you accept all of us.” Sliding one hand so he held her head, he positioned her face just beneath his. “Until you belong to us completely.”

  Shock pierced her, a hot and cold blast through her middle. Her desire followed, smoldering and waiting to erupt. At the same time, his gaze pierced her to her core. She saw both his desire and his raw angst.

  “It’s different now, Wendy. More primitive, our urges and our needs. Our need for you.”

  “How different?” Her words jerked out with her jagged breaths. “I know you, Zavier. Or this much about you. You would never have shared—”

  “Not in the past,” he interrupted with a rough growl. “No, I would have flattened any man who dared try to take you from me.”

  “Damn it to unholy hell,” she uttered, astonished by his admission of how much he wanted her, and astounded by the tornado-like darkening of his eyes, by the sculpted savagery of his features.

  “We’re altered, Wendra. Not just in our super abilities. We’ve all been altered at a primal level. As brothers, our drive is to mate with only one woman. Now.”

  She longed to ask why. The question writhed in her belly like a desperate snake. In truth, she knew it was only a nonsense, knee-jerk question. Even if he knew the why of it, it made no difference to the reality she faced now, or to the reality of his apparent needs as a superman. Wendra wondered fleetingly what her needs were as a superwoman.

  Holy ferocious as a panther-dragon. That’s what he reminded her of now, and what he’d always reminded her of, the panther-dragons living on the highest mountain ranges of the world. Reluctant beasts, but once they showed themselves to a person they either befriended or they attacked. Sometimes with fatal consequences.

  “Please, rethink this. I can’t—”

  “No.” Harsh, final, that was his voice. And his gaze.

  “You’re altered too, Wendy. You’re one of us. It’s better if we’re all together now. It will make us all stronger. You’ll see. You’ll know.”

  “No, I won’t,” she replied, just to fight him, and to fight the snaring fist of her circumstances.

  “Wendy, you’re beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful. You’ll be even more beautiful beneath us when we take you.”

  “Beneath you! All of you!” Stunned, her insides did crazy things, spiraling upwards like mist. And damn, suddenly she couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t feel his arms holding her. Wendra shut her eyes, a mistake. Her fantasy replayed in the blink of an eye, and lust clawed at her insides for an instant.

  “Wendy, it will be okay.” She heard his words as if they were a distant echo. “We’ll take care of you, and make certain you’re satisfied every time. Make certain you feel only pleasure.”

  No, I want to be free, even if I’m burning to let you claim me. Her own voice echoed inside her, yet she couldn’t speak. Her tongue didn’t work. Her mouth wouldn’t open. A strange wild frisson of desire coiled up from her sex mound, one she’d never felt before.

  “What’s wrong?” Zotorro’s concern ripped into her misty twirling insides.

  “She needs to know we’re not going to hurt her. She needs to feel how much she belongs to us. To all of us.” Zavier’s tone was confidence itself, as if he could truly peek inside her soul.

  No, she doesn’t. Yes, she does, Wendra answered silently, torn.

  “We zapped the Buzzards enough so they won’t be around this side of the city anytime soon,” Zent triumphed.

  “No Super Bads around right now.” Zion’s tone was ruthless.

  “Chrontropolis will have to do without us for a while. I’ll contact the Bronco Brothers. Let them know they’ve got full patrol of the skies.” Zotorro’s hand smoothed over her brow.

  Wendra knew his touch. How could she forget? He’d helped her through some nasty flu viruses a couple of times.

  “They’ll want to know why,” Zent warned. He touched her foot, stroking lightly. “We’d better come up with a good reason, or they’ll be peering through our walls with their X-ray vision.”

  “Yeah, I’m working on a way to stop X-ray spying and fortify the walls so they’ll function as barricades.” Zion caressed along the side of her thigh, his touch passionate and reverent. “She is so beautiful. And so beautiful when she dances. I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Two

  The Claiming of Wendy

  Can’t wait, the words reverberated through Wendra, what they meant. He wanted sex. Couldn’t wait to have his cock striking inside her. A shudder passed over her, as much from extreme apprehension as from the way they all touched her. In the next instant, to her horror, she smoldered with a fiercer need than before, her loins aching and honeyed with passion. No, no...no... If they took her they would own her life.

  “Let’s go,” Zavier commanded. “Watch-out formation.”

  “We don’t want anyone following us back,” Zent agreed. Sliding his thumb along her arch, he released her foot. “God, she’s going to be hot. And I don’t mean her flame powers.”

  “SlashFlame Kitten,” Zion crooned her stage name, his voice raw with lust.

  Wendra screamed inside, a scream of desperation and a scream from the desire pouring through her, awakening every inch of her flesh. Needle stabs of fire pricked at her, her clit blazed and she wanted to twist madly, even though her body wasn’t cooperating, remaining stiff.

  “Zotorro, can you carry her and still focus your radar senses?”

  “Yeah, big brother. We need your fighting muscle front and center.”

  Wendra felt herself carefully placed into Zotorro’s arms. She blinked open her eyes, meeting his stormy jade gaze briefly, before he looked away and soared upwards with her. Please, died on her lips. She didn’t know if it was a plea to him to free her or take her.

  Once they had made love, a beautiful meeting of their souls and bodies. Wendra had known she wasn’t ready to choose one man, settle down and begin married life. She’d wanted to dance, to soar in her dancing as they now flew through the skies.

  She also knew he had let her go because he realized he couldn’t make her happy. Not yet. Still, the torch he held in his heart for her had never died. He’d made no secret of the fact he still wanted to marry her. She could feel that truth in the way he held her now, gently, and with a fierceness that promised he was never letting go again.

  She swooned like a lovesick teenager, surprising herself, and not, since she really had little sexual experience with men. Her career as a dancer had been her main focus. If she was utterly honest, the two other men she’d been with couldn’t compare with Zotorro’s lovemaking.

  Omygawd, the thought that they’d all be different, taking her, their cocks... Wendra quickly shoved the thought away.

  As the wind slapped her face and sheered over her body with a force she found enjoyable, as if she sailed on the bay. Wendra noticed Zotorro’s flight felt different from Zavier’s, a sleeker arrowing through the air, rather than sheer power.

  Even though apprehension knifed through her at what they were about to do to her,
she felt incredibly safe in his arms. When her curiosity got the better of her, Wendra gazed down, attempting to see where they were and where they were headed. She caught fleeting glimpses of dingy rooftops, most of them neglected and in need of repair.

  Chrontropolis had steadily deteriorated after the abrupt decline in population and the increase in crime because so many were on the verge of starvation. Only a few areas had been restored and maintained, mostly due to those of affluence who cared about doing whatever they could. Since the rise of the superheroes the city had begun a general recovery.

  “Don’t tell me,” she whispered. In the near distance, one of the tallest buildings in the city dully gleamed beneath the leaden afternoon sky. It had once been the glistening pride of Chrontropolis, and was an elongated stretch toward the sky with convex sides that flowed into an immense penthouse at the very top. The landmark penthouse was curved in a modernistic style, in the shape of a hexagon.

  Once the penthouse had been the private domain of the Brandeise banking family. Not currently. They had fled to their landed estate across the continent, joining those of their same greedy ilk in a fort-like community. A second later, her brain clicked on with the memory. Zent had worked in Brandeise Corporate as a top editor for the news media department, specializing in the legal ins and outs of the communications business. Until he had suddenly quit and become an investigative journalist.

  As they flew closer to the penthouse, Wendra could hardly believe it. Had the Dark Brothers merely commandeered the building? It looked alive compared to the other dreary, obviously deserted buildings around it. Illumination softly glimmered from many of the giant oblong windows. Large wall sections that looked like they’d been molded from the material of the building overhung and surrounded the pristine balcony areas.

  “Are you kidding?” They swiftly arced upwards, headed for the penthouse itself. Their flight speared through the dusty atmosphere, and Wendra buried her face against Zotorro’s chest, trying not to choke from a sudden rain of ash.

  Protectively, Zotorro cupped her head, saying something she didn’t hear. A few moments later, he slowed his flight significantly, and then descended straight down, the sensation similar to a high-class elevator. When he halted, his feet planted on a solid surface, Wendra moved her head to see exactly where they’d landed. She stared as Zion used some kind of tiny tech device to open a door at the far end of the penthouse’s balcony.

  “Why live here?” she blurted out.

  “Why the watchtower on a fortress?” Zotorro teased.

  “Well, that, but I meant here. What if the evil Brandeise clan returns?”

  “An opportunity to round them up.” Zavier moved inside, still cautious and on alert.

  “Bring them to justice,” Zent added. His chin bold with determination, he checked the skies around them before going inside.

  “All clear,” Zavier called out.

  Zion behind them, Zotorro carried her inside. Good Lord and gravy, the place looked neat as the proverbial pin and was furnished with over-sized, comfortable but modern chairs and divans, all in neutral colors. Of course, every tech-screen entertainment lined the walls, yet none of them were turned on. Instead, the screens were frozen with the images of artwork.

  She was about to say, “Like what you did with the exclusive place.” Her tongue refused. Male hormones saturated the coolness of the inside air, overwhelming her. Wendra tensed while her blood thrummed frantically. Oh no, hell and high water, her clit throbbed, close to pain.

  “Wendy, can you breathe okay?” Zotorro stroked a hand over her tangled hair and peered down into her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Zavier stood in front of them, his face lined with concern. “I’ll check her lungs. You want to contact the Bronco Brothers?”

  “Will do.” Tenderly Zotorro handed her over to Zavier’s waiting arms. Insanely, Wendra wondered if she’d ever been in any man’s arms this long before. Certainly not carried around like this.

  “Tell them my powers are on the fritz again. And my brothers are on watch to make sure I don’t go on super overload,” Zion suggested. His gaze ravished her, his expression fierce and hot. Wendra had never felt so naked while still clothed, even if it was only a thin shirt.

  “Super overload, is right.” Zent clapped Zion on the shoulder.

  “Keep your ‘overloads’ covered for now.” Pivoting, Zavier carried her toward an archway with rapid long strides.

  Panic seized her again, disorientation dragging at her head. As they moved through the archway the dimness of the room was alleviated by a blue-white luminosity. Around her was Zavier’s smell and the strong fragrance of burned incense, potent scents he probably used to help focus his mind, his powers.

  “I hate being this weak,” she complained. Seeing the enormous flat-style bed her fear elevated.

  He set her down on the edge of the bed, and then sat beside her, his weight tilting her toward him. He lifted her face to his gaze, two of his fingers beneath her chin. “Wendy, how weak are you?” Carefully, he studied her eyes.

  Wendra had no desire to explain what she’d meant, so she avoided his question with what she wanted to know.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What I should have done when I first turned into a super version of myself.” His tone was halfway between a growl and a grumble. “I should have come and checked on you instead of relying on Zent and Zion to tell me how you were doing.”

  Feeling wildly curious, her belly fluttering, she asked, “Why didn’t you?”

  “For the same reason I’ve kept my big paws off you until now. Zotorro has been wild over you, in heart deep. He’s my baby brother; I’ve always looked out for him.”

  “Like you’re looking out for all your brothers now.”

  “Like I said, beautiful, it’s a different world, radically different. We’re a bonded team, and someone has to lead the charge against the bad guys. And now I’m going to look out for you. Answer me, Wendy, how weak are you feeling?”

  “Horribly weak, big brother,” she taunted. “Because you’re about to...you’re all about to...here?” She patted the bed once, and then her body trembled.

  He grabbed her shoulders firmly, careful not to harm her. “No, this is my private bed, my room. Not here...yet, Wendy. But soon.” The glittering promise in his eyes was her undoing. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, splashing on her cheeks.

  “Why won’t you believe me?” She sniffled, embarrassing herself. “This isn’t something I can do.”

  “Wendy, you’re already wet and hot for us.” In a split second, his hand dived between her thighs, slipped upwards on her slick juices, but didn’t slice between her sex lips. Instead, his gaze pinned her with that imperious male knowing she usually loathed.

  “Damn it! Men!” she spat while squeezing her thighs in reaction. Already she tingled and burned with desire like a wanton. “Just because my woman’s body is tempted, doesn’t mean I’m tempted.” She arched her brows and glared as fiercely as she could, her chin thrust out, her shoulders squared, all while her deepest darkest fantasy taunted her.

  Gently and slowly he removed his hand, studying her face. “You will be,” he rumbled, low and potent. “And you won’t have to do anything, Wendra. Or choose to do anything with us.” He smoothed his huge wonderful hands up her arms, her wetness on his palm. “We’re going to take you.”

  Everything inside her yearned as he gripped her upper arms the way she imagined a ruler of the olden times would do. His gaze lit up, the sparks of lightning barely hiding the passionate smolder of his eyes.

  “Like barbarians.” Her last word burst out on a loud sob. She stifled the sharp cry that followed by shoving her fist against her mouth. At the same time, she tamped down her arousal.

  “Yes.” His face was implacable, savage.

  She gulped, her gaze involuntarily falling to his cock, rigid as a sentinel on duty, beneath his suit. “That is barbaric,” she blurted, then blushed, her
cheeks fiery hot.

  He lifted her up and turned her so her back was to him. “I’m going to look inside at your lungs.”

  “Those yellowish beams I saw from your eyes?” She swallowed another sob, then forced down more sniffles, and tried not to remember his super-standing manhood. Unsuccessfully.

  “It’s similar,” he absently spoke.

  Wendra felt a slight warmth travel up the length of her spine, and wondered what he could see with his new vision. Hump the damn donkey, what would he do if he found something wrong with her? Not take her with his ready-to-ravish rod? Not allow his brothers to ‘unload’ their cocks in her? She nearly cried out as her fantasy took over her thoughts. The shadow men who dominated her with their plunging lengths now had faces, the four Dark Brothers.

  Jerked out of the fantasy by a stronger heat sizzling down the center of her back, she demanded, “What was that?”

  Instead of answering, he flowed an even stronger warmth up her entire back.

  “Wowza.” New energy filled her. Suddenly she felt better and more alive than she had for a year. Wendra flexed her shoulders, and then rolled them, appreciating the fact that her body felt freer and more limber. “Again. What did you do?”

  Lightly he gripped her shoulders, his thumbs gently massaging. “It’s a handy healing trick I’ve discovered recently. I can remove the buildup of toxins from the ash and other chemicals in the air. Wendy, the reason your flame power malfunctioned was not only because of its growing strength, but also because of the tar blockages in your body, especially along your spine.”

  “Thanks. I think. What about earlier? The other beams from your eyes?”

  “They magnify what I’m looking at. I was watching the confrontation with the Buzzards.”

  “Amazing.”

  “Amazing.” The word filled her ear, his breath on her ear rim hot with lust.

  Before she heaved in her next breath, he scooped her up, carrying her back the way they had come. “No”, lodged itself in her throat. Yet her inner thighs blazed with tingles and lust sweltered through her. Holy help, her entire mound felt sultry and swollen, ready for his touch. She was turning into a wanton.