Chapter 10
It wasn’t forgotten. Mike couldn’t stop thinking about the scorching hot kisses he’d exchanged with Stardust while he walked the streets with him for another night patrolling the Playground. It was a nice evening, the temperature cool, the dark sky clear. The red-light district was crowded, visitors strolling in large groups, Players hanging outside the clubs and bars to tempt guests to come inside.
On such a busy evening, he should be focused on keeping an eye out for trouble. But he couldn’t stop replaying the way Stardust had stared down at him in that breathless second before their kiss. The moment was on loop as they walked side by side, their arms often brushing together, neither of them moving to put space between them to prevent it from happening again. He was so attuned to Stardust that everything about him caught his attention: the jingle of the chains on his boots, the way the light reflected off his mask, the scent of his cologne. His fingers twitched with the urge to slide them over the thick rope of his braid and his gaze drifted more than once to the perfect curves of his ass. Because of his focus on his partner, he almost missed the man in head-to-toe white stealthily following someone who’d exited the all-male revue strip club across the street.
“Heads up,” he said, gesturing to the white shirt and his prey. Mike noticed that Stardust seemed distracted as well before he got his head in the game and looked to where he was pointing. Stardust nodded and lead the way to where the two men had disappeared behind the club. They arrived in what looked to be a small employee parking lot right as the white shirt rushed up behind the dancer to grab him and spin him around, slamming him up against the side of a car.
“Give me your wallet,” he demanded in a rough snarl.
Mike held back, scanning the area for hidden assailants while Stardust stepped forward into the circle of light cast by one of the parking lot lights above.
“He’s not giving you anything,” Stardust called across the space between them and the mugger.
The man’s head whipped up at Stardust’s challenge. He froze for a second, eyes narrowed as if he were weighing his options. He must have decided escape was the better bet because he shoved the dancer toward them and sprinted away in the opposite direction.
“Check on him!” Stardust yelled to Mike before he chased after the white shirt.
Mike was moving to follow the order when Caleb came on the line in his ear piece.
“Mike. A street light camera in the Playground just picked up that van with the partial plate you gave me.”
“Stardust is in pursuit of a white shirt who was about to mug someone,” he responded before asking the man if he was okay. He received a thumbs up so he took off to catch up with Stardust and the white shirt.
“He’s probably headed for that van. If you go after it, you might be able to catch him and anyone he’s working with.”
Stardust slowed his pursuit, watching as the white shirt disappeared into the crowd of pedestrians. “What street is it on?”
Mike caught up to him, then he too slowed to a stop.
“Bollefer and 4th.”
“That’s only two streets over,” Stardust said. “Let’s get after it.”
They took off, running in the street in the scant space between traffic and the sidewalk to avoid having to push through the crowd.
Up ahead, the van door opened and a half-dozen white shirts poured out. They immediately started harassing pedestrians, going after Players and guests alike, shoving them, and blocking their path into the clubs.
“That’s new,” Mike said in surprise.
At his side, Stardust’s fury came through in his clenched fists and the rigid line of his body. Every muscle was tense, telegraphing his readiness to fight.
“It’s new but it’s not about to become a habit,” he bit out.
Mike touched his glasses but didn’t activate his blasts. “There are too many people around. I don’t want to use my power and risk hitting a civilian.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to put those fists and boots to work,” Stardust said before he dove into the crowd.
The hero took on the first white shirt he came to, catching them off guard with a stomp to the back of the knee. The man’s leg buckled and he went down, giving the women he’d been harassing space to get away. Mike joined in, putting his body in between two white shirts and a Player who’d been dancing and spinning a sign to advertise the smoke house he worked for before they started bothering him.
When people realized a fight was underway, they started to run, getting out of the path of destruction. Now that he had more room to work, Mike prepared to activate his blasts. Before he could do so however, the white shirts all fled, scattering like roaches when someone turned on the kitchen light. He understood why when the van rocked up and slammed to a stop with a squeal of tires, the side door open. The white shirts raced to the van and jumped in. It took off with all of the white shirts inside, leaving Mike and Stardust thwarted and frustrated on the sidewalk.
“Damnit!” Stardust cursed.
They both watched as the van ignored the speed limit, tearing down the street, weaving in and out of traffic. They’d never be able to catch it on foot.
“I don’t think they’re going home after that.”
“Neither do I,” Stardust answered, watching the van cut across traffic to make a left at a red light.
