by Hayley Todd
I nearly stepped back out into the hall to continue my aimless journey, but Anton met my eyes and dropped the bag as Kellic wound up her next blow. The bag swung, landing solidly against her chest and knocking her back. I tried not to take childish joy in the look of anger that flashed across her face, but my body knew better. I choked back a laugh.
He was next to me in an instant, peering down at me from his staggering height. You would think I’d have gotten used to it by now, since Will, Carson, and Anton all towered over my head. Only Kellic was shorter than me, of the friends I saw on a daily basis anyway.
“Kyra...I…,” Anton stammered.
I didn’t give him the chance, and maybe that was rude, but right at that moment, I didn’t care. I pushed past him, headed to the shooting range along one side of the room. I opened the door, letting it swing quickly shut behind me.
It apparently made no difference. Anton was behind me in a flash, jerking the door open and following me inside. I could just faintly see Kellic glaring daggers into his back from across the room.
I picked up a pair of goggles from a stand beside the door and put them on, keeping him at my back. I made my way over to the line of stalls at one end of the range, sizing up my humanoid target at the other end.
I had frustration enough to last for days and was eager to blow something up. I imagined faces plastered across the amorphous shape. Henrick, Valeria, Liam, whatever other mysterious figures may wish me and mine ill will. I pictured them all as I raised a hand, stretching out my forefinger.
“Kyra, please, let me--” Anton babbled.
I gathered power quicker than I usually did, shoving it into the tip of my finger and letting it fly free. A dancing blue-white bolt of light seared the air between myself and the target, smashing into the figure’s torso and blowing a chunk of ballistic gel the size of my fist free and toppling the target.
“Damn,” I muttered, pressing a few buttons along the console at the front of the stall. Machinery whirred to life, spitting and spluttering as the ruined dummy carcass was drawn back within the back wall, and a new mannequin filled its place.
Before he could start his next line of attempted apologies, I burst another bolt of electricity down the range. The line of light was thicker this time, searing the head of the figure clean off. It rolled down the lane with a thud, winding up somewhere near the back of the range.
Anton stiffened beside me for a moment, watching me carefully. I didn’t bother replacing the ruined mannequin this time and sent another bolt hurling down the line. It just barely collided with the figure’s hip, carving off a layer of fake skin.
My eyes narrowed, glaring at the thing. I rarely missed and that was too close. I readjusted my aim, sending another lash of energy out and sheering the dummy from the stick it stood atop. The entire thing toppled over, falling to the ground. The machinery twitched and stammered sparks trying to remove itself.
They had sensors to understand when they were “dead” though I had shut them off for the sake of repeating shots. My father teased that my anger were a “storm of destruction” but there was a reason I didn’t often practice with magick when I was upset.
I glanced at Anton who was just starting to speak again. “You wanna talk?” I asked him, giving him a steely glare.
His jaw snapped shut and he simply stared for a moment before nodding.
“Then you should probably change,” I said, looking down at his expensive suit and dress slacks. “I’ll meet you in the gym.”
His eyes widened, glancing down at himself, then back up to me. “You...and me?” he asked, shocked. “In the ring?” His voice danced octaves up and it was almost funny. It took me a moment to note how dangerous this mood was. I felt like I was prancing on the precipice of a breakdown, or maybe an explosion, or maybe both. I needed to punch something.
“Sure, why not?” I said, leaping over my stall’s barricade in a fashion that definitely broke about a dozen rules of the shooting range. We were alone though, so I wasn’t much worried. I walked down the long line, headed for the broken ballistic model. It was blocking the lines run through the floor that allowed the dummies to be replaced, making it so the one I had called wouldn’t move.
I kicked the dummy farther from it’s mount and held a hand out over it. This was something I hadn’t tried, but something in me told me to do it. Maybe because it was begging for relief, maybe because that was just the kind of mood I was in. Destruction felt like it might make me feel better.
I forced power through my arm and let it explode from my hand. The blue-white light that hissed from my palm looked like a miniature lightning storm. A dozen bolts coalesced on the mannequin’s chest, searing right through it. The bolts moved, edging toward other solid parts of the figure and crushing them into dust, until all that was left were some chunks of ballistic gel, and powder.
I kicked the chunks aside and made my way back down the range, leaping the wall once more. Anton still stared, his eyes so wide I was starting to worry that he might hurt himself.
“Are we doing this?” I asked him, peering up at his anxious features.
It took him a solid second or so, but he stiffly nodded.
“I’ll see you in there then,” I replied, chucking him on the shoulder with my fist. He stumbled back a step. Perhaps, it had been just a touch too hard. I stepped past him, letting him stand there dumbfounded and made my way out of the range and into the locker room.
I wasn’t sure why he seemed so shocked. Maybe because he had realized that I was furious? That was the only thing that I could think of that made sense. Anton was older than me, by six years. Unlike myself and Kellic, however, Anton was raised as royalty. Most Magick families stayed together and typically, the children were turned at a young age and raised with their abilities. Anton had been one of these. He had decades more experience than I did with both magick and vampirism, though he hadn’t been trained to fight like I had. I had actually never fought him and the concept was thrilling.
I swung the locker room door open, not hesitating when I heard it be caught before actually closing. It was easy to find my locker since my name was plastered on the front. I dialed my combination and swung the door open, pulling a t-shirt and shorts from it. I started stripping, pulling my street clothes free of my body, folding them neatly, and placing them back in the locker as I tugged on my work out clothes. I limited myself to one pat down of my pants pocket, making sure the amulet was still in its place.
I tried to ignore her, but I could feel her eyes on my back. “What do you want?” I called to Kellic, not turning. I took deliberate time tying up my shoes, my leg propped up on a metal bench in the middle of the room.
“What the hell is your problem, Kyra?” she hissed. I actually had to hide my shock at her tone. Kellic rarely got angry. She got agitated and frustrated and irritated, but not angry. But in this, I refused to back down. So, my own rage bubbled near the surface in response.
“Not sure what you mean,” I replied, tying up my other shoe.
She moved, liquid fast, and appeared beside me, kicking my leg out from under me. I caught myself easily, glaring over at her and resuming tying my shoe. Now was really not the time to push me.
“What is this crap with you and Anton?” she roared, propping her fists on her hips. It was like watching a toddler get mad. All that fury, and such a little body to hold it.
“Not sure what you mean,” I repeated, trying to contain my anger. I wanted her to know I was pissed, but if I lost control, I wasn’t sure what would happen. Irreparable damage was likely.
I finished tying my shoe and had just planted my foot back on solid ground when she shoved me. It wasn’t a ladylike shove or a friendly, playful thing. It was a furious slam into my shoulder, knocking me back a step.
I glared down at her, refusing to do this in the locker room.
“I mean, Anton is first for pounding out my frustration,” I growled, knowing my eyes were starting to glow by the way the li
ght played on her skin, “but you’re welcome to go next.” I pushed past her, rounding the lockers and heading to the door to the gym. They called it the gym anyway. It was more like a huge dome with lines painted on the floor as boundaries.
She hissed, air zipping through her clenched teeth. Just as I twisted the door handle, pressing the door open, she came barreling forward, slamming into my spine and knocking me forward onto the hard gymnasium floor.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My knees collided roughly on the hardwood floor. I would’ve been fast enough to recover myself, if Kellic hadn’t still been propped on my back with her legs braced around my thighs. She wasn’t heavy and I was stronger than I had been as a human, but she kept my lower half restrained so that I couldn’t move. So, a wonderful floor burn immediately flared along my kneecaps.
I tucked myself, rolling forward on my shoulder and sending her hurling across the ground. Much to my dismay, she landed gracefully, planting her feet easily and peering up at me with more fury than I had ever seen on her.
“Don’t do this, Kellic,” I replied, climbing to my feet. She sneered, pulling her lips away from her teeth. “You’re not going to like the outcome.”
She hesitated, barely for an instant, before lurching at me. Unfortunately for her, that one moment of consideration had allowed me to anticipate her next move. She barreled toward me, fists arcing toward my hip.
I sidestepped, letting one foot drag across the ground, catching her ankle with ease. She tumbled forward, trying desperately to stay upright and failing. Her skin shrieked protests as her arm and leg dragged the floor.
I barely noticed Anton standing at the edge of the room, watching the bout with wide eyes. He looked like he was debating the pros and cons of stepping in. He took a step forward. Kellic let out a furious roar of frustration, echoing around the room. He reconsidered, stepping back to the edge of the dome and leaning against the wall beside the locker room door.
She launched at me again and I cursed myself for getting distracted. She slammed into my torso, knocking me from my feet. It was not a graceful fall as I soared through the air, landing in a crumpled heap of pain.
“This has been coming for a while, Kyra,” She hissed. “You can’t have everything. Maybe all of this princess talk is going to your head.”
She stood in the center of the room, watching me with disdain. Pain flared in my chest, having nothing to do with my physical aches. Her anger was like a slap in the face to our relationship, our familial love for one another and everything we had been through.
She lurched forward, dashing to the side and stopping within inches of me. I hadn’t been prepared for that and mentally berated myself for it, unable to keep up. Her fists lashed out, one after another, slamming into my torso.
I felt a rib snap beneath the pressure, my body exploding with agony. I wasn’t certain what else she damaged but it echoed pain all through me.
She sent another barrage of blows toward me while I was down, her knuckles cracking into my lip which ground against my teeth with a sharp stab. Her other hand crashed into my chin, snapping my head to the side. She hit me again, her fist colliding with my eye socket in a way that sent a spiderweb of furious pain through my face.
My vision blossomed with red and black spots, pounding in unison with my rapid heartbeat. I ached and couldn’t stop a strangled sob from ripping from my throat.
I shoved the pain into that lockbox in the back of my mind and hurled my elbow out, knocking into her chest and sending her back a step. She seethed, gasping so hard that her chest heaved in great rises and falls.
A pair of muscled arms locked around her own, pinning her arms to the side, hands locking against her neck. She froze, eyes blazing, darting to the side but unable to see behind her.
I ran the back of my hand across my lips, dragging the metallic taste from my tongue and streaking my skin with crimson blood. I peered up at Anton, his eyes tight and serious.
“Let her go,” I growled, my voice low and quiet. I pushed myself to my feet, glaring at her. She fought against Anton’s arms viciously, yanking and tearing but unable to break his grasp.
“This is insane, Kyra,” he cried, shifting to push her weight against his own body, further pinning her. It was almost funny. Her legs kicked out, her torso yanking away from him only to be locked my down. She swung her head to and fro, trying desperately to get him to let go. He didn’t relent.
“Let her go!” I roared, bracing myself and facing her fury down with my own rage. If she wanted to fight it out, I’d be damned if I’d stop her. She was being irrational and selfish, and while I felt for her plight, I wouldn’t let her bully me around.
Anton sighed, easing his restraints until her feet dropped back to the ground. She glared over her shoulder at him for an instant and he held his hands up in a placating gesture, backing away from us with an anxious gaze.
“If you take this to far,” he said retreating to the outer edge of the enclosure, “I will step in and I will stop you both.” He traded a gaze with me since Kellic was pointedly refusing to look at him. “And, you’re going to do this right. Take your places and I’ll call start.”
I didn’t respond, backing up several steps to await his direction. I’d give him that at least. My wounds had already begun to knit closed and the extra few seconds would let me get back up to physical peak.
Kellic mirrored me, moving to her side of the dome, awaiting his word. She clenched her fists repeatedly, white lining her knuckles which spotted bloody wounds that were healing over.
“Is this really what you want?” I asked her, snidely.
She barked out a laugh, though the sound was more mirth than humor and gave me an antagonizing glare. I shrugged. If she wanted to get a beating to knock some sense back into her, I was happy to oblige. I needed to pound out some frustration anyway.
“Alright,” Anton called from his position along the wall, “on my mark, get set, go!” He roared.
She launched across the dome toward me, her feet flying so fast upon the ground that I could barely see her steps. Without cheap shots, however, I was more than capable of sidestepping her completely.
She charged me, swinging wide as I moved to the side. She wasn’t nearly fast enough to catch me when I was on my guard. She shrieked a hiss of frustration as she slid through the now vacated space.
I hadn’t stepped far though and turned, slamming my elbow into her back. The connection sent her sprawling face-first along the hardwood. She pushed back to her feet after only a second and now wore a handsome line of floor burn that was sure to sting.
Instead of hurling toward me again as I had expected, however, she rolled across the ground, coming up within my defensive pose. She crashed into me with her shoulder and elbow, knocking the breath from my lungs and sending me back a step or two.
I could feel when she pulled energy from the air. It proved to be a beneficial attribute of my magick, alerting me to other’s grips on it. I was still surprised, however, when her hands began to glow, a blood orange sheen emanating from her fingers. The orbs of power ebbed and swayed as gelatinous misty clouds.
I didn’t immediately respond with a rush of energy of my own. I had figured out over the years that I had trouble maintaining full control when my magick was within reach. I had nearly killed myself exacting revenge upon Henrick for breaking Will’s neck. I hadn’t exactly been in a good state of mind anyway, considering his violations of my body and my life in addition to the death--as far as I had known--of my best friend. Elevated emotional situations proved to be breeding grounds for explosions of chaos when magick was in question.
Kellic advanced, those fiery fingers poised in an offensive posture. She glared wickedly, her eyes glowing with a faint color, reflecting the power at her hands. I dodged as she dove toward me, my feet light upon the ground.
But, I wasn’t fast enough.
Her fist whizzed near, dashing past my face. The first punch missed entirely, sweeping
inches from my skin. That was still more than close enough to feel the heat she cast. The next thrust, though, was a sure shot. Her fist slammed into my cheek, scorching my flesh and cracking my head to the side.
Pain erupted from my cheek and jaw, sending shockwaves of agony up my skull and down my shoulder. I hissed in misery, jerking away from her. I reared my arm back, slamming it upwards and into her chest. She didn’t fall back or take a step away. She soared away from me, crashing into the boundary spell that lined the arena.
I blinked down at my fist. My knuckles were scratched and torn but more concerning was the line of electricity bouncing across my skin. I hadn’t consciously gathered power. I had intentionally avoided doing so, actually. But there it was, leaping from my skin with a will of its own.
Kellic took several seconds to pull herself back to her feet. There was a round scorch mark in the front of her t-shirt, right in between her breasts. The shirt had been white originally but was already turning a dirty brown from her time on the floor. The spot in the center, however, was burned black and the fabric’s integrity had obviously come into question.
She stared down at the spot, then back up to me, her expression of shock morphing into one of outright vehemence. Her mouth twisted into a snarl, her extended incisors poking from her lips. Her fists exploded into furious light and had I not somehow had power dwelling within me, I wasn’t certain I would’ve been fast enough to stay ahead of her.
This entire encounter was proving to be increasingly unusual. Kellic had been a pillar of calm since we were children. This ferocity wasn’t something that I would have ever expected from her. She was bubbly and playful and silly at times, but hatred and anger were the last words I would’ve used to describe her. But that was not who was standing in front of me. This person was envious and furious and hostile. The two versions of her were entirely different beings.
Additionally, her teeth were pressed forth from her mouth which was wholly unheard of amongst vampire kind. I honestly wasn’t sure about the other vampire species, but Magick’s fangs only became long enough to be visible when they were eager to use them. At that moment, Kellic’s were entirely noticeable, pressing onto her plump lower lip. Was she hungry? Hungry enough to produce this callous behavior?