The sheer coordination of her attack dropped my jaw, and I made a mental note not to underestimate Ennia in the future. While Blake would survive the onslaught, there were only so many I would be able to defend myself against, and her powers seemed even more mysterious now than when we had started the journey. But even with her abilities, Ennia could only buy us time.
Renalt still held Francesca by the collar, refusing to let her escape, even as she punched a hand backwards into his mouth, making his lip bleed. And as she moved, I realized she was trying just as hard to escape me as she was him.
“You liar,” she shouted as she struggled, and I winced at the words, knowing them to be true. “Who actually are you?”
“Francesca, relax,” I said, and raising my arms. “We’re here to protect you. Yes, I am a liar, I do admit it. But I had to—you were in danger. They’re trying to kidnap you!”
“A bold statement,” seethed Renalt, his guards preparing for another attack. “Considering you already kidnapped her mind.”
“And you were to do anything better? We know you’re after her, just like all the other Silver Tongues! And we’re not going to let it happen.”
“I came here to enjoy a dinner and a show,” Renalt stated. “Instead, one of my nephews tips me off to how you’re trying to take advantage of her, said he started to notice it at my private performance. And I simply won’t stand for that.”
“Your nephew? Blake?” I asked, then realization dawned across my face. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what Blake is up to. He’s been used just like we used Francesca.
“I don’t know what either of you are going on about, but stay out of this!” Francesca shouted. “This is my family’s business and we don’t need any intervention!”
At that, both the CEO and I paused, looking towards her. Something felt wrong, felt off —Renalt seemed to know far less than he should, while Francesca seemed to know more that I had given her credit for.
“What do you mean, you—” I started, but before I could finish, dark blurs started to streak across the ballroom, converging in on us from each direction. The guards at Renalt’s side paused, unsure where they should direct their attention. These were the others I had noticed earlier, the serving staff I had assumed were among Blake’s retinue. And one stepped forwards at their head, one who had been spending the night in the sound booth, the darkness hiding his face.
“We hadn’t intended to come for the girl tonight,” he said, throwing back his hood. “Rather, we were anticipating additional theatrics. But it appears that you have supplied those for us. In the form of destruction, the typical Special method.”
He swept an arm across the ballroom, indicating the shattered glass, the upturned tables, plus the food and drink that now covered the walls in the blast. And as he moved, I saw the swirling tattoos that ran from his fingertips to the crown of his head, swirling designs that had only seen one place before. Matching his face, from Lucio’s recording deep in the Amazon. The man who had stopped Lacit, a far more powerful Special than myself, right in his tracks.
The Litious.
Chapter 52
“I’m assuming,” I said to Renalt, “that you don’t know these people?”
“Not in the slightest,” Renalt said, grimacing. “They don’t work for me.”
“And we never will,” the Litious man spat. “Nor for any Special.”
“Renalt,” I said as they started to advance. “I think we might be under something of a misunderstanding here. Both of us are fighting for Francesca’s safety, just in separate ways.”
“Mutual survival, then we’ll work out our differences after with a long chat,” he agreed. “But don’t confuse me as an ally. I’ve some power to help us here, some flames.”
We merged, forming a cluster facing out towards the Litious. From behind them, Blake let out a bellow of rage, crashing through a rack of chairs and momentarily drawing away our attention. And in the moment of distraction, the Litious attacked.
The leader feinted right, drawing my attention as he turned directly towards Francesca, squaring up against the two guards, the one still injured from my earlier attack. Before I could follow, another figure darted from the right of him, beelining straight towards me and forcing me to square up. I ripped a dark orb into existence, fueling it by sucking in the tablecloth and silverware of a nearby table, the objects disappearing into darkness. Then I whipped it forwards towards him, striking directly at his center of mass.
The orb should have blown through him like a cannonball, leaving a hole in his chest that would have collapsed his ribs and travelled through his heart, blowing out the other side with minimal resistance. Whenever I attacked Blake, he’d dodge out of the way, avoiding the orb before I could alter its direction. With their high momentum, they moved like bowling balls, making it difficult to change their trajectory in anything besides an arc, especially when they were larger. With the speed of this orb, it would be difficult but possible to dodge before I could course correct.
But he didn’t try to dodge it.
Rather, he plowed through it.
His hands wrapped around the orb as it started to sink into him, pulling at his hair, shredding the edges of his clothing. As his collar and sleeves ripped away, the tattoos below exposed themselves, the same swirling designs present on his leader, though fewer. His muscles bulged, and his eyes flashed with determination as he stopped the mass, skidding slightly backwards, and his hands began to compress.
The sensation was foreign to me—even when Lacit had stopped my orbs, I remained in control of them and they were still within my grasp. But here, the boy fought not the orb but my will itself, the source of my power, pushing it away. My mind flashed back to the lesson Peregrine had given us months before, when showing that a flamethrower could not generate fire inside another person’s body without extreme power and effort. It felt the same, but in reverse as if my power were being pushed back into me, a curtain cast over the orb as it left my possession.
Light blazed out of the orb as I lost control, and it diminished in size between his fingers, until with a pop, it disappeared, in an explosion so small, it could barely be heard. The boy smiled, speaking a single word before charging, close enough to me now that I recognized his face.
“Overcome.”
Instantly, my memories of our fight in the alley surfaced, of how I thought I simply missed with my orbs when fighting him. That I had misjudged in the darkness, and he had taken advantage of the pursuit. But now I realized it had been something different entirely.
That he had contested my control over my own power. And won.
A dagger flashed into his palm as I recovered, stumbling backwards with shock. In desperation, I tried the same move I used on Blake, drawing down space like a trampoline and releasing it to bounce him upwards. Around my assailant, inanimate objects obeyed my command, smashing downwards then leaping into the air. But wherever my power touched him, it slid away like butter, his presence taking authority, blocking any modulation of space.
He moved quick, his feet used to attacks without the aid of power, knowing that his advantage came with surprise. The dagger slashed down, the silver aimed at my neck as I struggled to produce another dark orb, my powers already starting to move sluggishly from the exertion of the first fight. And when the silver was a foot away, a tabletop slammed down in between us, and the silver tip of the dagger smashed through the wood only an inch from my eyes.
Slugger caught me, wrenching me back up to my feet as the dagger pulled backwards, bringing the entire table skidding with it across the floor.
“Light enough for me to use it as a club,” Slugger explained. “Not heavy enough to do damage. Makes a grand wall.”
“And I can’t touch them, SC!” cried out Lucio, his face wrapped in a mix of concentration and panic. “They’re blocking it somehow! It’s like trying to give memories to a rock.”
I chanced a look at Francesca, seeing Divi dance between the two guard
s and Renalt, the first unable to produce a shockwave whenever he stepped close enough, while the second’s molten cord dissolved away whenever it came within a foot of the man. Relying on their powers, they were only minimally armed, using small batons to fend him away while Renalt sent bouts of fire that wisped away before they could burn.
But Divi had never needed to fight with powers. And without their handicap, they sustained damage quickly as he sidestepped their clumsy blows, edging in for quick attacks with his knife. Ahead, the knife pulled free of the table, and the other four of the Litious moved to cover the exits, themselves keeping their distance from the right. But if this was the damage that only two could inflict, six meant we would have no chance of survival, even as the blue lights of police started to flash outside. We had seconds, not minutes, and we needed more firepower. Far more firepower.
“Ennia!” I shouted as the boy advanced again, and I picked a steak knife off the table, holding it in one hand and a dark orb in the other. “Bring back Blake, now!”
Chapter 53
At the far end of the room, the mound of chairs exploded in a roar, legs and cushions scattering in a twenty-foot radius as a blur of diamond shot forwards. Released from his living cage, Blake aimed his charge towards me, his spiked toes leaving gouge marks with each step. Above him, Ennia’s table pivoted to face us and her chairs turned as one, following Blake like an army chasing their general.
The Litious boy still stood between Blake and me, and Blake bellowed as he raised his arms in an X meant to disembowel and disfigure, his eyes still boring into me. In his rage, he refused to sidestep, choosing instead to cut his path directly through the Litious boy as an appetizer to satiate him. Then Blake was cutting, the diamond grating against itself as the boy turned, meeting Blake with a hopeless block of soft flesh.
But just as Blake’s arms met the boy’s, the diamond melted away, revealing his skin underneath once more. It was as if a thin layer surrounded the boy, wiping away Blake’s power when it came too close, but leaving the remainder intact. The boy retaliated with his knife, striking Blake across the face, where it clinked off his cheek, sparking on impact. But the blade of the knife was too far from the boy’s influence, allowing Blake to keep his outer shell, removing his weapons, but allowing him to keep his shield.
Blake pummeled in a fury of fists, fully aware that, even with lowered attack, he still remained indestructible. Where Blake was careless, the boy met with precision, catching or dodging the blows and trying to nick Blake before the diamond recovered over his skin. After two tries, he drew shallow blood, and Blake roared as his anger fully transferred from me to the Litious boy, his vision tunneled by hate.
And as his focused changed, so did mine, turning towards Francesca.
Already the leader had made short work of the two guards, each stumbling backwards and bleeding from a dozen cuts. The one with the magma cords fell backwards after a strike across the jaw, stumbling against the side of the table, thrusting out his uninjured arm that buckled at the elbow. The second guard stepped forwards, his sound blast ready, releasing it at point blank range into the leader as he stepped forwards, bringing the two of them chest to chest. The energy trapped between them, the wave buckling, reverberating off the leader and straight back into the guard. His body blasted backwards, buckling over in a U-shape with his arms and legs trailing behind, blood trickling out of his ears when he landed..
Francesca opened her mouth, turning to the Renalt, preparing to scream an order but stopping when she saw us approach.
As I dashed to fill the gap, and Slugger threw as much debris as he could manage, tables, chairs, and waiter carts the weight of balloons filling the gap in front of Francesca. As the leader approached them, his ability worked against him, each of the objects regaining their original weight, forcing him to wade through a sea of mass. From behind him, Ennia’s chairs swarmed forwards, leaping through the air to slam against him. They fell inanimate against his form, losing their ability to grasp against his skin, but proving more effective against his armorless body than Blake’s as he stumbled under the impact.
I leapt atop the mound that Slugger created, flexing my powers to form a sheet of blackness in front of the leader, used to block any projectiles such as knives but knowing that he could likely stride through if he came too close.
At the far end of the room, the doors buckled open as police streamed in, their flashlight beams cutting through the room and powers crackling as they formed a protective barrier. The leader paused from fighting his way out of the mess, then spoke his final words, his eyes darting towards the door.
“We came tonight to send a message, and we pressed our luck,” he said, stepping away towards the exit, Ennia’s chairs starting to stack into a lattice wall to protect Francesca. “Like a Special, we grew greedy. You’ve fought well, but for heretics, all fighting is violence. And when she meets her end, so will you.”
“I’d like to see you try!” I shouted as he waved his arms to signal a retreat. But as the boy disengaged with Blake to flee, Blake’s attention shot back towards me, and he launched a last-minute attack, leaping in a last-ditch effort to bring his promised revenge. Slugger lifted a table high above his head, the wood moving as if it were made out of paper, then brought it down on Blake, adding enough weight to turn a cow to ground beef. Slugger leapt atop it, the wood creaking as Blake struggled underneath, unable to get the leverage to break himself free.
The Litious boy sensed his lapse in my attention, rushing forwards and behind me, dodging Ennia’s wall of chairs and Slugger’s stack. Slugger took a swing at him but dared not leave the table, missing as the boy slid forwards across both knees, skidding just before Renalt with his silver knife flashing in his hand.
But his eyes were on Francesca alone as he leapt back to his feet, and he plowed forwards, aiming the dagger directly for her heart. Not to kidnap, but to kill. He was too close to her for my orbs, too quick for Slugger, and behind too much debris for Ennia.
“Stop!” commanded Francesca, but the words fell upon deaf ears.
Then before he could complete the strike, a dark form rushed from above, bowling into him with enough force to send him skidding away. His knife ripped across Francesca's collarbone, leaving a thin but shallow streak of blood before catching on the bone, twisting free of his grasp as she screamed. Then the dark form leapt back away as he struggled to his feet, dazed from the impact, and backing towards his leader at the exit. And she stood between him and Francesca, blocking his path.
“You never said you wanted to kill her,” said Arial, and took up his knife, daring him to step back into the fight.
Chapter 54
“Traitor,” growled the Litious boy, rubbing the side of his shoulder as his eyes burned with shock and fury. “A Special. Now you’ll die along with the rest of them. Sleep light, heretic, sleep light.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Arial said back as I strode over, unable to believe that she was on conversational terms with someone who had tried to murder me mere minutes before. “There’s middle ground, Matteo. The rules need fixing, not a complete eradication.”
“So long as there is power, there will never be balance,” Matteo spat, backing away after his leader. “Know you will be remembered as our Judas.”
Then he was gone, and the police were advancing on our group. Francesca took off in a sprint towards them, moving as fast as her high heels would allow, her dress streaming behind her as she shouted for help. The police almost opened fire on her as she rushed them, only extinguishing their lightning and flames when she had reached halfway. One of them threw a golden orb, the bubble rolling across the floor to encapsulate her, then retracting with her cartwheeling inside.
When she’d been halfway, I’d almost gone after her—but she was running just as much us as from Lacit and Blake, and in my condition, I’d be unable to fend off that many police. At that point, I’d be holding a hostage. Whether for her protection or not, that would
bring the fury of hell down upon me. So instead, I waited until the orb enclosed her, then turned to the others, pointing to the shattered glass where Slugger and Lucio had tumbled through.
“Let’s go, out!” I said. “Quick, before they catch up. There’s enough debris in front to slow them. Slugger, you lead. Make us a path.”
Then I turned to Renalt. “We agreed to speak after this was over. Now’s the time we both need to learn from each other. I think each of us only have half the picture.”
“We can speak with the police. They’ll sort this out. I’m not about to become a fugitive,” he retorted, shaking his head.
“Do you really want them to find out about your warrant? This is Italy, not France!” asked Lucio, concentration flashing across his face. Renalt’s expression went pallid, and he cast a furtive look towards the advancing police.
“Perhaps,” he said, inching towards the door. “Perhaps it would be prudent to leave.”
By now, the others were running, and we rushed to catch up, me taking the rear with Arial in case any of the officers came too close. At the moment, they seemed occupied with Francesca as well as an increasingly angry Blake, who writhed beneath a still weighted table, his stream of curses enough to draw their attention as he started shredding himself free.
“Where have you been?” I asked Arial as she drifted alongside my jog, casting a look to where Matteo had disappeared. “It’s been days.”
We leapt over the shattered glass and into the garden, turning towards the gate that Lucio and Slugger had entered only to see it showered in flashing blue lights, then to a dead end of hedges as the other end. I summoned two forcepoints on either side and they parted, allowing us to pass through the scratching branches and out onto a deserted street on the other side.
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