“Is that your aspiration, then?” she asked. “To become like him?”
“It’s a weapon, one we desperately need. Where we are now is just the beginning of a revolution, Arial. What Divi has discovered can be taught to every Regular in the world! And when the world hears, when Divi makes himself known, each of us will disperse to spread his teachings. They’ll try to stop us, but they won’t be able to —they’ll lose the ability, and we’ll be far too many. It will happen far too quick for them to react, everything will flip overnight. Then they’ll know what it’s like to be powerless.”
Matteo’s eyes shone as he spoke, leaning in so close, he was only inches from her face. His intensity bore down on her, and it was captivating, addicting. Even though she was his enemy, part of her surged at the injustice, at his passion to fight back. She shared that moment with him, despite the gulf between them, then realized he had finished wrapping her hand but still held it in his own.
She blushed, then pulled it back, feeling him release it slowly as he straightened back up. Then they had retired for the night, and she’d taken his advice—using the heat of the room to dive down deeper, to hone her focus, to explore the new experience of her power nestled against her essence.
“Our plan hinges on having someone who can infiltrate the Specials,” Divi continued in the morning, pacing in front of the group. “Arial, with your parentage, we risk little by sending you in among them. Should you be discovered, a simple call home could have you released, whereas with any of us, we risk far more.”
“I’m in,” she said, leaning forwards. “What’s the plan?”
“There’s a Special in this city far more dangerous than any I have ever encountered. One that’s intended to be used as a weapon. Arial, those that attacked the Litious in the Amazon hold him like a puppet, and we cannot allow him to remain in their grasp.”
“And how do you know this?” Arial asked.
“One of our greatest advantages over the Specials is that Regulars perform their dirty work. The maids of the highest ranking members of society know all their secrets. Over the past year, I have secured two to our cause. Every night, these maids have their memories scrubbed by a Special, an abhorrent practice that, over the years, strips them of their personality and sanity. But we’ve found a way around it, a way for them to remember while faking their memory loss.
“Six weeks ago, one of our informants discovered the identity of this Special, and the role they are to play in the future. There’s concern that they might defect, and it’s our mission to ensure that they do. If that Specials fails, it will have a greater effect than any action we could take, and I assure you, will be heard around the world.”
“So that’s why you’re after Francesca,” Arial pieced together, realizing why Matteo had been waiting outside the theater. “You don’t want them to use her power.”
“Clever,” said Divi with a smile. “Marked, and resourceful. Yes, we absolutely cannot allow them to utilize her. The first step of that is infiltration, and she will be guarded by those who want to use her. We need to get past that, so we need an entry point, which you will procure.”
Divi explained the plan, and the first part was simple to Arial. But at the back of her mind, his words nagged her.
With Siri gone, they need someone to take her place, Arial thought, Obviously, Francesca would be the perfect choice, and if she defected, then they would have to restructure their rehabilitation program. But that would mean that Francesca was far stronger than she let on, far more dangerous than they anticipated.
SC had already been controlled by Siri once—was he walking into the same trap? Would it be happening again?
Divi brought them outside as, for the first time in several days, she thought to worry about SC. She was used to leaving him and the others alone for long stretches of time during the week, but what if the danger here was greater than back at home? What if they were walking into a trap?
Divi hailed a cab, and she climbed in with him and Matteo, the others staying behind until the second stage of the plan. He sensed her quietness as the driver took off, and looked back to her, the tattoos on his face sharpening his inquisition.
“Arial, we need to know. Are you in or are you out?”
“She’s ready.” Matteo declared next to her. “I can sense it.”
In her mind, Arial pushed the thoughts of SC away. Whatever their greater plan, the Litious were intertwined with Francesca—and she had likely gotten deeper than any of the rest of her team. Now she had to play the part and watch until she had a discovery large enough to bring back.
“I’m ready,” she said, pressing her thumb against the burn mark on her palm.
Chapter 47
“Francesca will be surrounded and she will be protected,” Divi said. “And we will have little to no chance of getting to her without cornering her. Even then, it will take all of us—even isolating her, we’ll have to fight our way through. But we want that—we want the world to know that we wanted her, and that no Special could stop us. That even when their security is at their tightest, at their peak, that we can make our way in.”
“And you think a simple claim will do that?” Arial asked from the street, standing outside the car.
“A threat will help. But the rest, leave to me. Just act surprised.”
Arial nodded, and he rolled the window up, the car gliding away down the street. Ahead of her was the Italian police station, and she strode up to it, looking left and right over her shoulder as she moved. Look nervous, she thought, You’re not here because you want to be. You’re here because you are obligated.
She strode inside, then made her way to the front desk, her steps urgent across the tile. A frazzled receptionist looked up at her, taking a moment’s rest from the file that she was reading over and transcribing. Arial started wringing her hands, willing tears to her eyes, and the woman raised an eyebrow.
“I’d like to report a threat,” Arial declared, injecting a small amount of panic into her voice. “And I think I may be in danger.”
“Something international?” the woman asked, her accent thick but the words in English, but Arial shook her head.
“Here. In Rome.” She looked around, letting her eyes linger on the window. “I’m not comfortable speaking about it in, well, public.”
In a few moments, she was escorted to a back room, where they brought her a bottled water and a pack of crackers. Two officers sat across from her, and she could read the dubious expressions they wore for the study abroad student sitting across from them.
“Miss,” spoke one through a thick mustache that matched his greased back hair, his English far better than the receptionist’s. “What exactly is the nature of this disturbance?”
“I heard two people speaking today, at a coffee shop.” said Arial, biting her lip. “I was doing my homework, and they were one table over from me. They were talking about an attack, something serious.”
“And they looked like?” he asked, writing in a notebook, though from Arial’s point of view, it was only a few quick words.
“I’m not too sure. Two of them, I guess they were cloaked? Looked like they were heavily tattooed, but I couldn’t quite tell.”
“Ah, some mysterious men,” said the officer. “And they spoke English, like you, in this Italian shop?”
“No, no, they spoke Italian. Or something like it, maybe Portuguese.”
The officer sighed and lowered his notebook. “Miss, we are very busy officers, it is a very big city. Lots of people come and go. Lots of things that would sound crazy.” His eyes rested pointedly on her for a moment. “But these people, they spoke of an attack in a language that you are unsure of? How did you even understand?”
“I speak Spanish almost fluently. I’m in advanced classes for that!” Arial said, and the second officer barely concealed rolling his eyes. “Look, I understood enough that I knew their intentions. And I think they could tell I could understand. I’m not sure, but they w
ere following me here.”
“You’re not sure? How can you not know if they followed you?” he pressed.
“Well, I didn’t see them, but I think I heard them. Anyways, I’m concerned for my life, if they know I’m here, they may come after me. They may try to silence me. To try to keep me from talking.”
“What, exactly, is it they would try to silence? Also, Miss, we have references for therapists who may be able to help you. Perhaps too much time away from home?”
“I’m not crazy,” protested Arial. “But the attack, they’re going after someone famous, an actress, I think. I think they said that they were going to try to kidnap her.”
“Ah, your Italian is not as good as it seems! That happened just recently. They must have been discussing the news at the theater. Come now, even that was a fluke—who leaves an actress alone and on stage if their intent was to steal her away or kill her? Our investigation, of course, is ongoing.”
“But—”
“Miss, unless you have additional details, we would be happy to escort you back to your car. Please take necessary precautions, and return if there is escalation, but there needs to be more for us to open a case. We’ve noted your concerns.”
“If they kill me,” Arial said, her voice practically a screech. “The blood is on your hands! Mine and hers!”
“It has been logged, but without an incident, there is little else we can do. How can we find these two men? Do you have the cafe? We will send an officer over to take a look.”
Appearing placated, Arial wrote the cafe name on a sheet of paper. One that Divi, Matteo, and herself had taken breakfast, and ensured they were seen at nearby tables. Cafe Rita.
The officer smiled, while the second one escorted her from the building. And as they reached the street, the first officer had a clear view from the window of what happened next.
Officers are often chosen for combative powers—elemental ones, or ones for protection, or strength. The one at Arial’s side was a Flamethrower, as referenced by the fire-like badge over his chest. A single roman numeral indicated he was a higher degree—likely a mid to high power, not the best but still a strong force on the streets.
He should have been able to defeat the two Regulars that pounced on them with ease.
Arial shrieked as Matteo pulled her arms behind her back, zip-tying them before she had a chance to move, then zip-tying her thrashing feet as he swept her to the ground. He’d appeared from behind at a dead sprint, and the surprise had been natural—she knew Divi would be doing something but had not expected this. As she went down, she saw the first punch Divi threw against the officer, clipping him on the shoulder. Purposely giving him a chance to retaliate.
The flames came in a torrent that sprang forth from the officer’s hands like a geyser, the roar of combustion filling Arial’s ears and heat blasting across her side. They washed over Divi as he stood only a foot away, close enough he should have been completely incinerated, turned to nothing but a pile of ash. But Arial felt the same presence leave him as when they were meditating, the same shadow projection, the splitting of his essence and body. Instead of burning him, the flames never made it within six inches of his body, and his own outstretched hands reached out, funneling the flames into them. There they coalesced, forming a white hot ball, pressed together by shadow as they were contained. Arial felt the battling of essences, the fighting as the officer’s power struggles against something it had never felt before, and essence that wrapped itself over his and smothered its will.
“Overcome,” Divi said with a smile as the flames slowly went out. The officer prepared another bout of flame, but they fizzled away in his hand, his face turning white just as Divi struck him across the jaw. He collapsed, and others at the police station had already started to mobilize, the entire exchange only taking ten seconds.
But by that time, Arial was bundled across Matteo’s back, they ducked into an alley to cut the zip-ties loose, then sprinted to the car a quarter mile away before the police could follow.
Chapter 48
“I swear, I’m starting to wonder more and more what caught my eye about you, SC,” Francesca hissed as we stood in line together to be announced into the party. Blake had walked ahead, nodding his head towards us with two security guards, though their eyes tracked me more than Francesca. “We just missed two photo ops right there. And you tried to take your shoes off coming in here. To a party, are you crazy? The lovable idiot only goes so far, SC, and my patience is running thin.”
My shoulders tensed, and I forced myself to take a slow breath as she jabbed me in the ribs. With each passing moment, pretending to be Francesca’s boyfriend grew more difficult. Everything about it seemed so wrong, from the clash in our personalities to the extreme differences in our upbringing. My thoughts continued to return to Arial, for the days that she had been missing, clouding my attention. With each jab into my ribs from Francesca, my blood pressure rose, and it took another ounce of energy not to burst out shouting.
“You know what people probably think?” Francesca continued. “The probably think me and Blake are dating. He took three pictures with me, you know. Three. And he has a look to him, he’s flashy. Look how people watch him around the room. Does that scare you, that I might leave with him?”
Actually, it does, I thought, Just not for the reasons that you think.
“Francesca, relax for a minute,” I said. “I’m here because I want to be with you! What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to fit in and stop acting so weird,” she said. “Act like it.”
“Is this better?” I asked, and smiled, which she met with an immediate fuming.
“Scowl! Brood! We’ve been over this, SC. Smiles are fake! Scowls mean there’s something deeper, something that fans want to know about. What, do you think everyone to think we are happy and have it all figured out? What type of story would that be? A boring one.”
Blake returned, and for a moment, I was tempted to walk away. If that was what Francesca wanted, then I’d let her have it, let her ignorantly walk into her own peril.
But I knew if she died, or went missing, I would never forgive myself.
“If you’ll come this way,” Blake said, sweeping a hand over. “We have a table prepared. They’re so excited to meet you, Francesca. You have been the talk of the evening—and if you may, there is Karaoke tonight. Can I hint at a surprise performance? Perhaps a teaser into your summer choir series at the Daedalus? I’ll have you know, I already bought tickets for tomorrow, it’s all the talk.”
“Oh, Blake,” Francesca laughed, “I wouldn’t want to promise too much!”
Entering the main room, we were immediately besieged by plates of appetizers and drinks, along with the chattering of a crowd paired with live music that dulled the edges of conversation. Banquet tables filled the front, while a dance floor covered the back, and CEO Renalt waited near the back at one covered in red cloth. Francesca waved to several faces in the crowd, who must have been other Rome celebrities that would escape my notice, then immediately took Ann and Ennia’s hands, pulling them towards a professional photo booth along the wall. Shaped like a small canal boat, each of them took a seat along the mock scenery, and Marshall trudged after to try to edge into the picture next to Ann.
Leaving Blake and me alone.
He spoke first.
“Bold of you to come here,” he drawled. “You’re as far out of your element as you could be, SC, and it’s showing. I doubt I’ll even have to fight you before your social blunders announce you as a fraud. Put lipstick on a pig, and it’s still a pig.”
“How’s your hand, Blake?” I retorted. “Still licking your wounds? I didn’t think you’d be back so fast for more.”
“It’s something you’ll never have to experience. When I win, when it’s an actual fair fight, it will be for the kill. You won’t have to recover,” he hissed, and I felt the tension increase. Rationally, Blake wouldn’t attack now. But rationality wasn’t one
of Blake’s strengths. If I could bait him, maybe I could have him kicked out immediately.
“Speaking of fair fights, even this seems below you, Blake. Kidnapping a girl? Is that what your leaders demoted you to after your loss in the Amazon? Is this the villain version of cop traffic duty?”
“You don’t know what toes you’re stepping on, you idiot,” he answered through clenched teeth, smashing them together so hard, they turned to diamond to prevent any damage. “And we’re not trying to kidnap her.”
“Murder, then? Or just brainwash? Whatever you have to convince yourself is applicable.”
“SC, I’m going to tell you this once. You have no idea how much pleasure it would give me to shred you here and now, but I can’t have Francesca melting down. And of course, it would cause a scene. But you don’t know what you’re involved with here. This is our affair. I’ll give you one hour to end your fling with Francesca. It can’t be hard at this point. I’m sure she already smells the rat. Then you can slink on back to the slums, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
“If you think I’m just going to walk away, you’ve apparently learned nothing from every other time we’ve met.”
“I’ve learned that you’re an insufferable roach that refuses to die, will never learn their place, and should have their blood smeared—” He stopped suddenly as Francesca skipped back over, her dress glittering in the lights that flashed from the dance floor, and continued our conversation as his voice turned light. “And that is why I chose to invest in wheat futures—the climates simply gave too strong of an indication, and at fifty percent for the year, it’s been a valuable enterprise.”
“Ugh,” said Francesca. “This sounds like business my father would talk about. Boring.”
“And, Francesca, let me escort you to your table—Renalt would like another word with you.” Blake extended his arm, and Francesca took it, purposely turning away from me while keeping me in the corner of her eye. Watching if I would intervene as Blake led her to a table with only two open seats, taking one for himself, and giving her the other.
Titan Song (Star Child: Places of Power Book 3) Page 17