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    A Damsel's Guide to Destruction
    A Damsel's Guide to Destruction
    A Damsel's Guide to Destruction
    Ebook106 pages1 hour

    A Damsel's Guide to Destruction

    By Vivi Andrews

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    About this ebook

    To keep her out of trouble, he’ll have to hold on tight.

    Intrepid reporter Kim Carruthers is done being the damsel in distress, waiting for some superhero to save her. Now that she finally has super powers of her own, the bad guys had better watch out. It's payback time. Provided she can get past the sexy superhero determined to stop her quest for vengeance.

    Unfortunately, the hero on her tail is none other than Frost Nightwing, the enforcer even supers fear and Kim’s ex-lover, whose icy touch always set her on fire. Tall, dark and deadly Frost is the one love she could never forget and the last person she wants to face... especially now that he's playing for keeps.

    **PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED AS SUPER TROUBLE**

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherVivi Andrews
    Release dateJul 5, 2014
    ISBN9781311251992
    A Damsel's Guide to Destruction
    Author

    Vivi Andrews

    Vivi Andrews is an award-winning paranormal romance author who calls Alaska home. For more about Vivi and her books, visit www.viviandrews.com.

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      Book preview

      A Damsel's Guide to Destruction - Vivi Andrews

      Chapter One

      The One That Got Away

      The full moon hung suspended over the city like a prop in a romantic movie, the sky so clear hundreds of stars were visible even in the heart of downtown. The air was crisp and cool without the icy chill of the storm that had passed through over the last few days, leaving every surface covered in sparkling white snow. It was the perfect night for strolling hand in hand with a lover, ice skating in the park, or taking a carriage ride through the snowy streets before the car tires turned that pristine white to muddy brown.

      And the perfect night for stalking a would-be felon across the rooftops of Capital City.

      Frost Nightwing moved from shadow to shadow, easily keeping his target in sight, though he hardly needed to. He was a hunter. He could taste the slight, constant burn of her power at the back of his throat—that odd, tangy mélange of citrus and ozone that marked a telekinetic.

      If she’d been wary, he would have hung back, trusting his inborn super-hunting senses to track her, but his prey wasn’t making any effort to conceal herself, careless with the confidence that she was alone on these rooftops and no one looking up from below would be able to see her black-clad form against the night sky.

      Frost shook his head at the arrogance as she leapt from one building to the next, her dark hood falling back and platinum blonde hair streaming behind her like a banner, catching the moonlight. She floated through the air like a dream, seeming to hang suspended, mocking gravity for a moment before her feet touched down nimbly on the next rooftop.

      Gorgeous.

      And idiotic.

      She was so new. So high on the thrill of her newfound powers that she hadn’t yet realized they didn’t necessarily make her indestructible. Or invisible.

      Damn, he’d missed her. Even her foolish recklessness. Always pushing, barging right in when a sane woman would call the cops and run—

      Frost forcibly evicted the thought from his head. He wouldn’t let himself think of her name, remember her scent. She wasn’t his. Not anymore. The blonde. The target. That was all she was to him tonight.

      He didn’t usually track the new ones. His job had less to do with the shiny excitement of fledgling powers and more to do with what happened after that power had gotten twisted and corrupted into violence and vengeance. By the time he was called, the words dead or alive were usually involved.

      This woman hadn’t tipped over into the dark side.

      Yet.

      But Captain Justice was convinced she was right on the verge of crossing that line.

      Frost didn’t owe many favors. A man who hunted down supers when they went rogue couldn’t afford to be indebted to anyone, but he owed Captain Justice. If this would clear the books, he gladly would step in and stop the pretty little telekinetic from going bad.

      She did certainly seem to be heading in that direction at the moment, as fast as her feet would carry her.

      Frost moved silently, one shadow among many, the stealth more habit than necessity since the blonde never even glanced over her shoulder. Her focus was riveted on the street below and the man she, in turn, was stalking.

      Frost knew exactly who she was trailing, had fantasized about killing the bastard himself more than once, but that didn’t matter tonight. All that mattered was the fact that she was stalking the asshole for personal vengeance—and that was the line a superhero could never cross.

      She stopped, crouching at the edge of a rooftop overlooking an alleyway, her black-gloved fingers curling over the rain gutters, blonde curls falling forward over her shoulders. Anyone looking up would spot her in a heartbeat.

      Amateur.

      Frost, in contrast, moved against the night like he was born to it—his dark skin, dark clothes, and dark thoughts all suited to these midnight hunts. Most of the snow up here had melted away under the heat of the exhaust vents, leaving the rooftop a paradise of darkness, made more complete as the heavy moon rolled behind a nearby skyscraper.

      He took a position among the darkest shadows, less than ten feet away from the woman, though she didn’t so much as twitch a finger in his direction. An oblivious idiot as well as a careless one. Wonderful.

      She hadn’t done anything worthy of his intervention yet, but Justice seemed convinced she would. Tonight.

      Impatience clawed at him. Frost wasn’t in the habit of stalking and intercepting supers before they sinned, but Justice wanted him to catch this angel before she fell from grace.

      She sure as hell looked like an angel. That hadn’t changed in the last few years. The pale curls, the high, sculpted cheekbones and delicate contours of her face. The perfect bow of her lips. He studied her profile from his position in the shadows, wondering if she was, objectively speaking, the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Probably.

      Subjectively, there was no question. She’d always made his heart beat irrationally fast.

      But he would still take her out if it came to that.

      Part of him hoped it wouldn’t. That he’d be able to sway her from her path. Step in at the exact right moment and save her from herself, be her hero this time. The instinct to protect her was strong, but the rest of him was resigned to whatever he had to do. He was cold, merciless Frost. No amount of hope changed that. He’d learned that lesson years ago.

      She shifted at the lip of the building, lifting her fingers to her mouth to blow on them through the gloves. Frost was impervious to the cold—empowered by it, actually, drawing the chill into his body in invigorating waves to be stored for later use like a battery taking a charge— but she had to be freezing. The temperature had dropped since the sun set and it couldn’t be more than twenty degrees up here in the wind.

      So what the hell was she waiting for?

      Impatient, Frost sent an icy chill slithering down her jacket. Maybe he could spook her. Send her running home before she did something they would both regret.

      When she merely tugged her jacket tighter around her shoulders against the chill, Frost grimaced with frustration. He didn’t have all damn night.

      Maybe he could talk to her now…

      Justice wanted him to scare some sense into her—which would be more effective if he caught her in the act of something dastardly, but maybe catching her on the cusp of dastardly was good enough. She had stalked that man halfway across the city. He could work with that.

      And, damn, he just wanted to talk to her, hear his name on her lips, see the look in her eyes when she saw it was him. Would it be anger? Fear? Joy? It had been so long.

      Frost shifted from the shadows to reveal himself, a suitably intimidating entrance line already rising to his lips, when she straightened to her full height—inches taller than he’d expected thanks to the spike heeled boots—

      And stepped off the edge of the building.

      He hissed out a curse, lunging for her, but he was already too late.

      She landed feather-light in the alley below, of course—any telekinetic with an ounce of talent could control a fall from only three stories up—but she was so new his pulse had spiked into the red

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