Bat and the Blitz by A. Gregory
Raya
Sweet echoing blood bag.
There he is.
Agent Klaus Thorsen.
No other agent in FUC has a reputation quite like him. In fact, Agent Thorsen is kind of legendary. He always refuses to work with a partner. He stomps around in his motorcycle boots like he owns the place. He’s a good agent with exceptional statistics, even though he barely speaks to anyone other than Director Cooper.
I hate him.
Not because he’s a bad guy or even because he’s a good one, albeit unconventional.
Nope. I don’t like Klaus Thorsen because he’s too hot. Men who are that good-looking always know it down to their bone — if you know what I mean. They believe they’re a gift to every other human.
From what I’ve seen of Klaus around the Academy, he’s like that. He pretends he doesn’t see people fawning over him with his shoulder-length ash-blond hair and his brooding green eyes.
Real talk? The man bun is a ridiculous trend.
On Klaus Thorsen? It’s not a man bun.
It’s a fucking halo. It’s a damn crown of sexiness.
Not that I would ever admit this out loud to anyone.
I’ll have to put my lust on serious lockdown and make sure Klaus knows just how much I hate his dumb, sexy, handsome, moody face.
I’m on a mission, yes, but not only for FUC. I’m here to make a name for myself, and I can’t do that if Klaus Sex God distracts me every time he flips his hair like a teenage cheerleader.
Maybe I’ll attack him with a pair of scissors as soon as he falls asleep. There’s a good chance he draws all of his power from his hair like good ol’ Samson.
I drop my duffel beside his and give him a cursory head nod. I don’t blush. (Much.)
“You’re the noob they paired me with?” His voice is a deep baritone that rumbles out of him like a motorcycle revving first thing in the morning.
Oh, my flight.
He’s so good-looking I almost miss the aggression in his tone.
Almost.
His green eyes are narrowed toward me as he takes in my not-so-winter gear. My trusty and favorite leather jacket might not be the warmest or thickest protection against the northern wind, but it’s sort of my armor.
I refuse to ride into battle without it and my combat boots.
Klaus spends too long of a second on my legs for his perusal to be professional. Perhaps that’s all in my head. I roll my shoulders back and give him my best annoyed glare.
“I’m Agent Slaski.” I don’t hold out my hand for a shake.
No chance in hell am I allowing any contact between us. I’ve got no clue how I’ll react to that, and the very last thing I need is to blush because a cute guy touches me.
This isn’t middle school, and I’m not some fawning little bat.
I’m a newly minted FUC agent and a grown woman in complete control of her libido. Who cares if his hair smells like pine trees and sandalwood? I certainly don’t notice that his eyes are the color of incandescent emeralds. Nor do I pay any attention to his ass when he turns around to grab his duffel bag off the ground.
Because if I did notice his butt, I’d have to write an ode to it.
Good starry sky above.
Who knew men’s tushes could come in that shape? I sure didn’t. His ass and his hair are locked in a competition for which body part attracts more of my attention.
Right now, it’s a tied score.
“I don’t care who you are, agent. All I care about is getting the job done as quickly as humanly possible. I don’t want to fuck this up. Got it?”
I arch a brow at him and cock my hip. “Are you serious right now?”
“What?”
“Did you really tell a fellow agent not to fuck up a mission? Do you really think it’s necessary to warn me that we have a job to do?”
“Sure feels like the newer generations of agents are too soft. Besides, I don’t think a first-timer is an agent. Way too green.”
I grin at him, flashing my incisors. I’ve never bitten a human, but he’s a second away from making me change my mind.
Oh, buddy. Poor, sweet, innocent little reindeer. Welcome to my trap, jerkface.
“Yeah?” My smirk turns saccharine. “You don’t find the newer agents equipped to cope with the field?”
Klaus shrugs. “Nope.”
“Is that so, Agent Thorsen?” Director Alyce Cooper snaps, coming up behind him.
His jaw clenches, and he shoots me a murderous and accusatory glance. His gaze screams for revenge.
You can try, pretty boy.
And, by Bela Lugosi’s fangs, the man sure is a tasty dish.
Klaus flashes his own teeth at me in a threatening promise before facing our boss. “Sorry, Director.”
“No, you’re not,” she shoots back. “Don’t try to backtrack now, Klaus. I heard you loud and clear. Maybe if you’ve got so many opinions about the quality of the agents coming through the program, I should add you to the next roster of teachers.”
Klaus blanches visibly, and Director Cooper, the sly lady she is, relishes his momentary panic.
“I think I’ll do that,” she goes on. “We’ll see how things go with this one.” She juts her chin toward me. “You ready, Agent Slaski 2.0?”
I try to stifle my reaction to her words, but I’m pretty sure Klaus notices my back stiffening. Agent Slaski 2.0? Is that really how my boss sees me?
Not going to lie. That hurts.
I spent all my school years being told just how awesome my sister is. I don’t need it for the rest of my career. Why couldn’t Vera stay a lawyer? Damn her and her perfection.
Every time I walked into a new class in high school, the teacher would take one look at my last name and expect me to perform at the same level as Vera. Was it my fault I didn’t enjoy studying or staying still as much as her? No. It didn’t stop everyone from comparing us — and for finding me seriously lacking.
For once in my life, I would love to be noticed and praised for my own achievement. For being Raya Slaski. For simply being little old me with my nose ring, tattoos, leather jacket addiction, and badass attitude.
“Are you ready to go?” Director Cooper asks me.
“I am, yes.”
“Good. I wanted to come and personally see you off. This wreath you have to protect? It’s an important artifact. Whether it is the Holy Grail melted down into a wreath or not is irrelevant. Hell, the fact that it isn’t actually magical isn’t even significant. What matters is that all of Christmas Town depends on the wreath to propagate their economy because people come from far and wide to see the supposedly-magical wreath. Not to mention putting a stop to Vitality Holdings and uncovering the identities of Hera and Zeus. A lot is riding on this.”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.” I give her my best and most reassuring nod. My legs don’t shake, nor do I feel the weight of my entire future career looming overhead.
“I’ll keep the mission on course,” Klaus cuts in, throwing his duffel over his shoulder.
“Make sure that you do, or else I’ll be sending you to the northiest north to ever north every holiday season. You can kiss your beach Christmases goodbye if you fuck this up.”
Klaus’s eyes cut to mine. “Sure thing, Director.”
“I haven’t forgotten your last slip-up, Klaus. I might remand you to a classroom yet.” With another long and heavy scrutiny of us, Director Cooper turns on her heels and leaves the hangar.
I watch her leave, taken in by the sheer magnitude her presence commands. She is one impressive woman. I totally want to be her when I grow up.
The flight from FUCN’A,all the way to Christmas Town, is long and quite possibly the most turbulent flight I’ve ever been on.
I’ve gone skydiving, so that’s saying something.
The airplane isn’t exactly big, but it’s large enough that Klaus is sitting a few feet away from me. If I didn’t know any better, I would assume the big muscle-man is scared of flying. I swear, his jaw looks that much more clenched.
I could’ve sworn I saw him watching breathing exercises on his tablet during takeoff.
Not that there is anything wrong with that.
It’s nice to see that the Klaus I-only-ever-scowl Thorsen has a weak spot. It makes him a little more human and a little less scary-agent-with-more-experience.
Klaus hasn’t spoken a word to me since his warning earlier. I’m so bored part of me wants to poke at his patience. I curb the need. The last thing we need on this mission is more animosity.
This has to go perfectly well. I need to prove myself a good agent in my own right. Not because I have the Slaski last name but because of my own actions.
I will not be Agent Slaski 2.0.
I am Raya, my very own bat. Hear me echolocate!
If Man-Bun Klaus gets in my way?
Well, he’ll be playing a whole different kind of reindeer game.
I flip open the file T-Bone gave me and read over the case for the millionth time. It seems pretty straightforward. Go to Christmas Town, guard the gold wreath, and ensure no one gets their hands on it.
It’s basically a security guard job.
Or it would be. These Hera and Zeus characters seem to have a whole lot of cash at their disposal. We have to be very careful. They somehow managed to infiltrate and blackmail an agent in the Cryptozoian Council. Klaus and I will have to be aware of our surroundings at all times. For all we know, there is already a mole in Santa’s workshop, vying for the wreath.
“Do you think we should interview people as soon as we land?” I ask after a bout of turbulence so bad I’d half-thought we would fall out of the sky. “Way I see it we should ingratiate ourselves to Santa and his staff. Probably the local police force, too. The more we know, the better we can spot a mole if there is one.”
Despite his pallor, Klaus rolls his eyes and doesn’t look up from his tablet. I don’t know what he’s doing on there, but it seems to have all of his attention, the big (beautiful) ass.
“Klaus, seriously. I would appreciate a moment of your time to discuss strategy.” Especially since there’s nothing else to do and it’s doing my head in.
“There’s no strategy to discuss,” he snaps, still not looking away from his device. “We land. We guard. Christmas ends. Back to the Academy. Final.”
I purse my lips at him in serious displeasure. Of course, I knew his reputation before we even got onto the plane, but this surliness is next level.
“If someone pissed in your tinsel, it sure wasn’t me. We need to be a team on this. A little commun—”
“Do. Not. Make. Christmas. Jokes.” He enunciates every word and every syllable like a threat.
Or what would be a threat if he were talking to anyone else. But he’s talking to me. I can out-stubborn the reindeer any day.
“You don’t like Christmas?” I add a twinge of humor to my tone. Not quite teasing but not quite understanding. It’s made to antagonize, and why not? I can give as good as I get. I’ve got a whole life of practice.
The man is a reindeer shifter who abhors Christmas. Fascinating, really. Freud and his buddies would have a collective brain-gasm if they got to work with him.
Right then and there, I nickname him Blitzen. It sounds sexy but grumpy, very much like the dude himself.
Klaus doesn’t answer, but judging by the firm set of his jaw, he is trying very hard not to say anything.
Point to me.
So much for being a team.