Super Powereds: Year 3

by Drew Hayes

That was when a desperate idea, the sort that can only come when one has no logical options left, was born. Chad let the tendril on his right arm drop, merely ceasing the flow and sealing the hole rather than trying to undo all the reconstruction. The exposed blood splattered to the ground like fat red raindrops, the sickening scent of copper permeating the air. It was nauseating, but it had the effect he’d hoped for. Only having to sustain one tendril freed up his concentration enough to become mobile.

  The remaining tendril lengthened and darted, curving around until it was striking both of the remaining tower shields. It stopped them as it sliced, but Angela was able to slide underneath. She kept moving forward, last shield raised in defense and blade at the ready. Chad waited patiently, a look of feigned concentration still etched onto his face. Just as she arrived and swung, he leapt back a half-step, sending the attack wide and knocking her off balance. The blood of the last tendril splashed to the ground as Chad let its movements cease.

  He stepped forward, knocking the sword to the ground with one blow while sending the shield flying with another. Strong as Angela was, he was better in up-close combat. Whirling quickly, Chad knocked her feet out from under her, grabbed her shoulder plate with his left hand and brought his right forearm around so that the bone-blade rested against the glowing chainmail on her neck.

  “Deathblow,” Chad said, his breathing heavy. “I win.”

  That’s when the armor came apart, snapping away on hidden seams, and throwing its various parts and pieces around him. The hollow armor quickly became a golden trap, grabbing Chad’s various appendages and yanking them back before he had a chance to understand what was happening. He began to struggle, but then he noticed a dozen pinpricks of pain along his neck and spine. The trap armor had blades within, ones now pressing with observable force on the skin between the gaps in his armor.

  “Actual deathblow,” came a voice from across the room. The scarred shield, the one Angela had fallen under moments ago, lifted up to reveal his blonde opponent, no longer clad in any armor save for her unassailable confidence. “I win.”

  In that moment, it crystallized in Chad’s mind. He’d seen her go under the shield, then he’d seen the set of golden armor getting up from next to it, but in the fracas of battle, he’d never actually witnessed her emerge.

  “I yield,” Chad said. “You could have killed me. This victory is yours.”

  “Angela DeSoto wins the match,” announced the voice from the speaker. As it did, Chad’s bindings, along with the rest of the glowing objects in the room, vanished in a shower of light. Chad found himself falling to the floor now that he was free, and found no real inclination to stop himself.

  Angela crossed over to him and knelt beside him. “I guess you’re down to one weakness now. You don’t know how to think sneakily.”

  “It seems I do not,” Chad agreed.

  “Well, you lost, so I think you know what this means,” Angela said.

  “Of course. I will keep my distance from you as much as possible from now on.”

  “No, dipshit. It means you have to pay for dinner tonight.”

  Chad looked up and found himself entranced by the wild smile of the woman who had just defeated him.

  “But I lost.”

  “Which is why you have to pay. I’m not looking for someone stronger than me, Chad. Shit, who knows when or if that would even happen? I’m just looking for someone I like, who gets me, and who isn’t bothered by the fact that I’m never going to be a delicate flower or a damsel in distress. And yeah, the fact that you just gave me a real run for my money doesn’t hurt either. Different as we are, we’re pretty similar deep down.”

  “Do you care for Italian, or contemporary American?” Chad asked, pulling himself to his feet.

  “No way, buddy boy, you’re not getting off that easy. Seafood, and someplace classy.” Angela leaned over and gave him a kiss on the bone armor that still covered the cheek of his face. “Oh, and go back to your regular look before I pick you up. All that getting each other stuff is well and good, but I don’t go for uggos.”

  “I will be downright presentable,” Chad said, smiling without intending to. Any other time, he’d have wondered how an unintentional expression slipped through his defenses. For the moment, he was smiling too much on the inside to give a damn.

  41.

  “Don’t you just look positively suburban,” said the voice from behind Nicholas. Inwardly he winced, but his face showed no semblance of concern. It had been a couple of weeks, so he’d started wondering if any move was actually coming. Which, it was now clear in retrospect, was what Nathaniel had been hoping for. Thankfully, his training didn’t permit doubt to lower his guard, so as Nicholas turned around to face his adversary, it was with the knowledge that he had several concealed weapons stowed away on his body, and in his bag.

  Nathaniel Evers sat on a nearby bench, one that faced the sidewalk along the exit of the Business and Education building. He looked about the same as he had the last time they met: same slanted grin, same raven’s black hair that he left shaggy, same style of slightly behind-the-times suit, and of course, the same eyes. Nathaniel was a Super whose condition had left him with an aberrant physical trait, like Mary and Vince. His, however, couldn’t be played off as dye or contacts. Nathaniel’s was too advanced for such subterfuge. His eyes glowed a dull orange, the color subtly shifting as one stared into them. It was as though there were a candle behind each iris, dancing in the wind of his thoughts.

  “At least my look is only due to the clothing,” Nicholas countered. “I could give you the name of my tailor and stylist, and you’d still look like a sweaty fifteen-year-old on his first date, wearing a hand-me-down suit from your father.”

  “Nice to see that college has made you so kind,” Nathaniel replied. Nicholas noticed that a small backpack rested at the foot of the bench. It either contained weaponry, actual books, or, most likely, both.

  “The academic world changes a man. What classes do you have today?”

  Nathaniel gave him a smile that was especially creepy. It might have been impressive and threatening to someone else, but Nicholas had been seeing that smile since they were children. Nathaniel worked on it constantly, even hiring acting coaches to find new ways to make his expressions scarier. Given his power, Nathaniel’s decision to seem unsettling made sense; however, Nicholas always felt like he was trying too hard to be terrifying. True horror didn’t come from creepy smiles; it came from faces that remained impassive even as they were splattered with flecks of blood.

  “We both know you’ve memorized my schedule, just as I have yours,” Nathaniel said. “Today is Introduction to Chemistry and a sophomore Spanish class. I actually went to them too, though I must say the professors were less than welcoming.”

  “That will happen when you skip the first couple weeks of class,” Nicholas informed him.

  “Be that as it may, I think I’ll keep checking them out, at least until I get bored with them.” Nathaniel rose from his seat and took a long stretch, his lanky, scarecrow-esque form crackling as his bones popped. “I believe I see what’s attached you to this place, old friend. Our world is so advanced, so calculated; dealing with these people requires little more than the minutest of efforts to get what one wants.”

  “No, Nathaniel, you’re the only one of us who is lured in by games he finds easy. I like greater challenges, not smaller ones.”

  “Oh really? I don’t suppose you’d like to inform me as to why you’re here, then. You vanish for the larger part of two years—and I do mean vanish; not even we could find you—then, all of a sudden, you pop up as registered to a college in California.”

  “I’m getting an education,” Nicholas replied tartly. He was aware that the flow of students exiting the building had lessened, so he made sure to pay attention to Nathaniel’s movements. If an attack was coming, it would be when there were fewer witnesses.

  “Of course you are. Nicholas Campbell and his grand ambitio
ns,” Nathaniel said, his eyes’ glow brightening momentarily as his voice grew harsh. A second later, both features were back to normal. “Funny thing, though, I’ve been watching you these last few weeks, and you seem especially at home here. Never getting lost, never asking for directions, never seeming out of place. It’s almost as if you’d already spent a large amount of time here. One might even wager two school years.”

  “Or, alternatively, maybe I just showed up when classes actually started and learned the campus,” Nicholas countered.

  “Certainly possible,” Nathaniel admitted. “But I doubt it. I know you’re here for a reason, and I’m keen on finding out what it is.”

  “On the subject of reasons, why don’t we talk about what brought you out here?” Nicholas asked.

  “Unlike you, old friend, I have no need to lie. I followed you here. If you’ve left the safety of Vegas, then it is for something big. As future head of the Evers Family, I consider it my familial duty to explore whether your goal could be useful to our own ends.”

  Nicholas debated telling him that this had nothing to do with their Vegas affiliations, however, that would still be giving him information. Though Nathaniel was a lesser opponent, Nicholas hadn’t managed to always beat him by giving him handicaps. Better to turn the talk toward something that would give him nothing, while still ending the conversation.

  “Future head of the Evers Family? My goodness, you seem to have lost touch with reality since I’ve been gone. Everyone knows your cousin is the one who is marked to sit in the big chair. Even if she wasn’t, you really think they’d give it to a pumpkin-eyed freak like you?”

  The glow in Nathaniel’s eyes intensified once more. Poor fellow, years of training, and yet his eyes were still a precise tell of his emotions.

  “Better a pumpkin-eyed freak than a fucking Powered,” Nathaniel spat, advancing slightly and closing the small distance between them. Nathaniel couldn’t be blamed for believing Nicholas was still a Powered; in all of Vegas, only Gerry and Ms. Pips knew the truth. “You act like you’re the fucking crown prince of your Family just because Ms. Pips favors you. But she’s not the king, and when the day of her retirement comes, do you really think the rest of the Family will back putting a man with your defect on top of the casino? At least I can control my ability.”

  “And it’s done you so much good, hasn’t it?” Nicholas shot back. “Face it, Nathaniel, I’ve done more with a minus in my column than you’ve ever accomplished with a plus. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we both know I have another class to get to.”

  Nathaniel’s hand snaked out and grabbed Nicholas’s arm. For a moment, the sandy-haired young man held his breath, wondering if things were going to come to a head right here and now. He’d have preferred to have backup, but he had enough hidden cards that he was confident he’d survive.

  “Your sense of superiority has always been the most insufferable thing about you,” Nathaniel said, his words scarcely louder than a whisper. The glow from his eyes was so bright it was reflecting off his cheeks. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m going to find out. And then, once I know what you want, I’m going to take it away from you.”

  “Then it seems the game is on,” Nicholas replied, pulling his arm free with little effort. He calmly turned away and began walking down the sidewalk. It was dangerous to show an enemy like Nathaniel his back after riling him, but it would have been more detrimental to turn around.

  When dealing with Nathaniel Evers, it was imperative that one never show fear.

  42.

  “I need to train more,” Roy said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I need to train a shitload more.”

  “That echoes my sentiment nicely,” Thomas agreed.

  The class was filtering out now that the show was over, a progression of people going down the concrete steps in a state of excitement and wonder. A fight like that, seeing two incredible competitors go at each other full-force, was something rare and beautiful. For some, it highlighted the gap between themselves and the top of the mountain. For others, it merely inspired them to climb all the higher.

  Roy, Alice, and Mary had joined Vince, Thomas, Violet, and Alex after enough of the crowd had left to allow them to meet up. Will had gone over to talk with Jill, and Shane had headed downstairs to presumably congratulate his sister. The tone in the remaining group was one of subdued enthrallment, as each person replayed the battle over and over in their head.

  “I still can’t believe how versatile her power is,” Alice commented.

  “No kidding. I thought Shane’s shadow manipulation was impressive, but Angela’s ability is even stronger,” Vince said.

  “Hang on,” Roy requested, a strange tickle moving through his brain. “That seems familiar.” He delved into the recesses of his memory, trying to place why such a combination would stand out to him; however, he wasn’t able to place it. Accepting the loss, he made a note for Hershel to try when he took over. Hershel was always better with that sort of stuff anyway. “Never mind, I can’t think of what it reminds me of.”

  “It reminds me of a kick-ass fight,” Violet said, still standing on the balls of her toes in unabashed excitement. “I mean, shit, that was awesome. Fuck, now I want to fight. Someone new. Mary, care to have a go? Vince? Shit, I also wouldn’t mind a rematch with you, Alice.”

  “Maybe another time,” Alice said. “I’ve got some homework to do.”

  “What about later tonight?” Violet pressed.

  “Mary and I are actually trying a different sort of training already,” Alice said cautiously. She didn’t want to give away too much about her friend’s ability. It wouldn’t be in good taste to spill someone else’s secret.

  “Oh, I definitely want in,” Violet declared.

  “It’s not that sort of training,” Mary clarified. “I’m trying to replicate my dream-walking ability without being put under by Rich, so Alice and I are going to tie our hands together, then sleep in the same area. Hopefully, I’ll enter her dreams.”

  “Seriously? A two-person slumber party? You gals really suck at this,” Violet commented.

  “We aren’t having a party,” Mary replied.

  “Not with two people you aren’t. Don’t worry; I’ll get Camille and Jill on board at the very least. Good idea, though, even if the execution sucks. We can do it at our place, since we have an entire house and all. Plus, and I mean this nicely, I don’t trust you two to stock beer and liquor, and I’m not hauling all that shit across campus.” With that, Violet bounded over to where Will and Jill were speaking in hurried whispers and proceeded to take over their conversation.

  “Sorry about that,” Thomas said. “She can be a bit overly determined at times.”

  “I feel like she could have at least waited for us to say yes.” Mary sighed.

  “Honestly, I think, even if we’d tried to decline, we wouldn’t have had any more luck,” Alice said. “Oh well, I guess a little bonding might be fun. Besides, as long as we sleep in the same room, the experiment shouldn’t really be altered.”

  Mary mumbled something indiscernible to the rest of the group, though the sentiment of the words came through quite nicely.

  Vince turned to Thomas, Alex, and Roy. “So, should we go do something?”

  “I’m in,” Alex replied immediately.

  “It does seem like my home is about to be uninhabitable,” Thomas agreed. “I’m equally certain Will would like to get away from the ensuing antics.”

  “Seems to me that Hershel would do well to have a little fun,” Roy said. “Y’all mind waiting till I turn back?”

  “Sure, we’ve got to grab dinner anyway,” Vince said.

  “Good, that will give me time to help you put together a game plan,” Roy said, his smile turning somehow more mischievous than usual, if that were possible.

  “Let’s keep it somewhat tame,” Thomas requested.

  “No can do,” Roy assured him, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder.

  * *
*

  Angela wasn’t surprised to find Shane waiting outside the women’s changing room, leaning against a wall and doing his best to look nonchalant.

  “Get what you wanted out of that?” Angela asked, running her hands through her hair, still damp from the post-fight shower.

  “Very much so. Did you?”

  “Even more so,” she said, flashing him a smile. “Not going to lie, I haven’t been cornered like that in ages. The blood-whip thing came out of nowhere.”

  “I had no idea Chad was working on such a technique,” Shane said, a small trace of sadness in his tone. “And with it goes the only advantage I ever had over him—a greater reach.”

  “Don’t look so glum, chum. You’ve got almost two years of growing up left to do. Hell, you think I could have pulled off all that shit a year ago?”

  “The flaw in your logic is that, while I’ll be getting stronger, Chad will undoubtedly be doing the same,” Shane pointed out.

  “You’re right,” Angela agreed. “You’re trying to catch an opponent who advances faster than you and already has a head start. It’s pretty much an impossible task.” She paused to walk over and lean on the wall next to him. “But you’ve already been trying to do that since you were five.”

  “That’s different,” Shane said. “We weren’t that far apart at times.”

  “No, we weren’t. Closer than you think, to be truthful. Still, you’ve never quite made it. You never manage to catch up to my skill, let alone surpass it. But you keep trying. Since we were old enough to start, you’ve always been trying. I sort of admire that about you. If the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I’d have had your determination not to give up.”

  “Your admiration means the world to me,” Shane said, his tone flat and even.

  “Play sarcastic all you want, I know deep down you look up to me,” she shot back. Angela lifted herself off the wall and began heading down the hallway. “Love to chat more, but I’ve got a date to get ready for.”