“What, did you think he killed me or something?”
“Or the other way around.” She raised an eyebrow sourly. “What did he do now?”
I pushed open the door into the cafeteria. Bright florescent lights shone on a room full of empty tables. Josh must have gone out another door.
The smell of mashed potatoes and gravy wafted through the air. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now. I grabbed a plate and loaded it up, thankful there was food twenty-four hours and that all the tables were deserted by now. I didn’t want to talk to anybody.
“So?” Ria crinkled her face into disgust as she watched me eat.
I shoveled potatoes into my mouth and swallowed. “I saw it, Ria—the essence. I saw it, and then Nate stopped it all. He doesn’t know when to just leave me alone.”
“No one’s seen him since,” Ria said, her voice even, emotionless.
“Are you mad?”
She crossed her arms. “He’s had it coming for a while.” She clenched her jaw exactly like Nate did when he was stressed.
I put down my fork and sighed. I should’ve thought more about her. Nate had stayed here because of me, because he was my Guardian, but Ria was the one who really wanted him here. She’d always wanted him around. Even this past year when she’d dated a new guy every month and flaunted it in Nate’s face, she’d always wanted Nate close.
Now that he was gone, what did she have? She’d come with me to this new school, left all her cheerleading, popular friends, graduation, parties, her mom. And she didn’t even really belong here.
I tilted my head and saw a glimpse of the girl I’d grown up with, the one who’d do anything for me if I asked. “I’m sorry, Ria.” I stretched my hand across the table. “I shouldn’t have been so rough on him. I should have left that to you.”
She pretended to crack her knuckles. “That’s right.”
“I do have some good news about tonight, though.”
Ria narrowed her eyes again, suspicious.
“I’m now officially a Warrior.” I smiled.
She reached out and pinched me.
“Ow! What’re you—?” I rubbed the back of my arm.
“You deserve it,” she growled. “Keeping that from me this long? It’s been five minutes!”
When we were younger, Grandpa allowed us to lightly pinch each other every time one of us had hurt feelings in order to show us that words hurt too. We always pinched too hard, and it inevitably turned into a wrestling match that Ria won.
I bet I could take her now.
“And yet you can’t even take a pinch,” she said.
I scanned the room for something heavy to lift and decided on the chrome buffet carts. “Watch this.” I grinned and curled my fingers underneath one end.
My legs and arms strained, but the behemoth didn’t budge.
Ria clapped slowly. “Very impressive.”
I kicked the cart and walked back. “It worked when a demon came at us and I had to save Josh from being hit by a train.”
Ria’s jaw dropped, and I spent the next five minutes explaining everything that had happened.
“So then they just let you walk out of there? No one tried to stop you?”
I pushed my empty plate away, comfortably full, and leaned forward. “Then Josh kissed me.” I couldn’t help but smile.
“What?”
“In an essence-powered mirage,” I explained. “It was after he laser-beamed the demon with his hammer.”
“Coolest thing ever, by the way.”
“And I wondered why no one on the platform was trying to cart us off to an insane asylum. Everyone had their backs to us. I looked around and saw our reflection in a display case, my hands wrapped around his back, his hands grabbing my hips.”
“That’s hot.” Ria grinned.
“It was all the essence, though. Josh said it runs off of really high emotions, like it happened all the time and I shouldn’t be embarrassed.”
“Wait, you created that mirage thingy?” Ria’s excitement level was set to blow.
I nodded.
“But how do you know it wasn’t his?”
“I—” I hadn’t thought about that. Josh said I had, but what if he was the one?
“So what happened next?”
“Nothing. We walked back and got interrupted by a door knocking my shoulder out of its socket.”
Ria rolled her eyes. “Quit being a baby, Ms. Warrior. So, do you like him?”
“What? Who?” I shook my head.
Ria pursed her lips. “Don’t test me, Evey. You know I love me some romance.”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Do you?”
“Oh, I’d eat his muscly, comic book-reading self in a heartbeat.” She snapped her fingers.
I tightened my lips. Yeah, if Nate wasn’t around, she’d do that.
Wait, Nate wasn’t around anymore…I’d sent him away.
Ria continued. “But I don’t think he’d even notice.”
“What?” I arched my eyebrows. “Why?”
“He’s only got eyes for you. Stares at you then looks away. It’s a classic TV sitcom romance brewing here.”
“Yeah right.” I rolled my eyes and stood. That was her and Nate, if she’d stop playing hard-to-get, that was.
“Oh, Evey.” Ria wrapped her arms around me awkwardly as we started for the stairs to the dorm. “You’re a Warrior. We have to get you a blue and red bathing suit now. Oooh, and a gold tiara thing with a star in the middle.”
“Your Wonder Woman obsession never ceases to amaze me.”
Especially since she’d only read one panel of one page of one issue.
She made swiping motions with her wrists as if she were deflecting bullets around my head. “Imagine what you’re going to be able to do the next time one of those demons comes at us,” she said wistfully.
My body tensed with the thought. I was fine with them coming after me again—it seemed like an inevitability—but the “us” of that sentence was a whole other matter.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Iron Drills,” Denisov shouted at the Warriors—about fifty of us in all. We stopped stretching and paired off into sparring circles.
Another week had passed without me either seeing essence or using it to any supernatural degree. The demon’s words still scratched at the back of my head like an animal clawing to get out. Nate was nowhere, and the guilt of my last words to him sat like a rock at the bottom of my stomach.
“What are we doing exactly?” I asked when Duke came around behind me.
“Bone and tissue strengthening.” He nodded politely as his girlfriend, Cheryl, cracked her knuckles. She was suddenly standing across from me. “Denisov thinks it will break your talent loose.”
I puffed a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. “Don’t I feel special.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t go easy on you.” Cheryl grinned, her blond hair pulled tight into a ponytail, her white tank top cut like Denisov’s so that it accentuated her toned arms and shoulders.
All of the other areas of the arena were being used in similar ways, each section designated for a different talent. My eyes wandered to the area next to ours where the Messengers ran on modified treadmills. Josh’s legs were a blur, his eyes fixed on the wall, still training more than anyone else.
“Ready?” Cheryl said, her smile fixed firmly with dimples.
I nodded and squared my shoulders. She waited with patiently tensed muscles. She was curvier and slightly heavier than me. But that meant I was quicker, right?
Duke walked between rows of sparring circles, adjusting people’s stances. Most of the other Warriors were either very big or very small. A guy taller and more muscular than Freddy stood next to us, his neck rolling around and around in a stretch. Opposite him, Ashley, one of Cheryl’s friends, coiled her fingers into her palms as her curly black hair danced across her back. She was tinier than me and grinned from ear to ear as she raised her fists and winked at Cheryl. Cheryl
winked back.
“Damian’s weaker than he looks,” Cheryl said when she noticed me looking at Ashley’s opponent, her voice sugary sweet with a hint of sass. “Cuts his hair way too often.”
“What?” I tore my eyes off his gigantic arms, realizing Cheryl was talking to me.
“Samson?” Cheryl raised an eyebrow and exaggerated the silence like it was a carrot over my head.
My eyes narrowed in thought until it hit me. “Samson and Delilah.”
“Samson and the big coliseum he demolished with his bare hands,” she grinned.
“Fighting positions,” Denisov barked, standing alone in the center of all the circles, her hands behind her back, her gaze trained on me.
Duke stood a few paces away from our circle to observe.
I took a deep breath and dug my nails into my palm, realizing and not caring that I didn’t know what Iron Drills meant, that I didn’t realize what was coming for me. I had to get my talent working somehow, even if that meant not knowing what the hell I was doing.
“Begin!”
Cheryl jumped into the air with both her fists raised over her head like hammers.
I jerked my head up and dodged to the left just before she hit the floor so hard that the impact vibrated up through my shoes.
I looked back and saw two divots in the ground; Cheryl’s fists were covered in a fine powder.
Was she insane? I whipped my eyes around to Duke, to Denisov, but neither gave me a hint of what was going on. Did they want us to try and kill each other?
Cheryl straightened and smiled. “Iron sharpens iron.” She motioned for me to try and hit her now.
I gritted my teeth. Bone and tissue strengthening? Guess I knew what that meant now—we’d hit each other until our bodies were used to it…or they broke.
I put up my fists and advanced, faked a jab, and kicked Cheryl in the stomach with everything I had. Her whole body doubled over and skidded back five feet.
She didn’t stay down for long, though.
She lunged at me with fists raised again. I blocked her first punch with my forearm, and my bone fizzled like rice cereal in milk.
I bit my tongue to keep from calling out in pain. Then, I circled around quickly, going through every move Grandpa had drilled into me since I could walk.
Cheryl waited in a defensive stance with a sly sneer. I jabbed, and she parried with her forearm. I kicked out twice in quick succession, and she backed away at the last second every time. I sped up every movement. Fire lit within me and filtered beneath my muscles until my bones burned. The floodgates were opening, and I didn’t want to stop them. Hot and cold coursed through my veins, every strike like a wrecking ball. I could see her pink essence pumping out through her chest, almost telling me where she would move before her limbs did.
I landed punch after punch, my fists flying wide without technique. She put up her arms to protect her face and dropped to a knee, but I didn’t stop. It felt too good to hit something.
A whistle sounded, and she fell to the ground. I breathed heavily, the sting of others’ eyes on my back. The whole room had stopped their own activities to watch ours. Even Josh had ceased running.
I inhaled until my lungs threatened to burst—the essence fading from my vision like a soft mist. The fire from just moments ago turned to sludge in my arms, and I dropped to my knees next to her, afraid to touch her. I’d let my anger get the best of me. If emotions were tied to talents, then I was a nuke waiting to go off.
Cheryl was motionless, her head buried behind red and purple arms that were already starting to swell.
“Cheryl, I—” My voice choked up. Why had I done that? I should have stopped. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head, willing each motion to tick back time.
Laughter echoed off the floor. I looked down and saw Cheryl with her mouth stuck open in something between joy and pain. She rolled over twice to the edge of the sparing circle and guffawed loudly, rotating her arms around awkwardly, stretching them. My jaw dropped. I thought they’d be broken.
“Now that’s what I’ve been waiting for.” She smiled, staring bright-eyed at me as she got to her feet. No one stepped forward to help her up. “What are you all looking at?” she turned around to the rest of the pairs.
Denisov smiled to herself and marked something on the chart in her hand. Duke’s eyes were saucers of surprise.
“I’ve still got the next round with her,” Cheryl added and turned back to me in a fighting stance again.
The rest of the room took the hint with a collective murmur of grumbling.
I couldn’t stop staring at Cheryl’s arms. How were they not broken? How would I live with myself if they had been?
Cheryl motioned me forward. “Come on, Brooks. Round two.”
“What’s going on?” I threw up my hands. I could handle the idea of being Wonder Woman strong; I couldn’t handle some stupid game that made me nearly kill someone, or seem to, at least.
Duke cut in. “Talents are best when controlled through steady emotions, but sometimes explosions of emotion are needed to jumpstart the process. It’s obvious that was the case with you.” He glanced at Cheryl.
“And I thank you for that, really,” she interjected. “Nobody here has been able to give me a good sharpening like that since Duke graduated.”
Duke translated. “Warriors are able to strengthen each other when they fight.”
“Iron sharpens iron,” said Damian from the sparring circle next to us, his arm as big as my waist. It was the first time I’d heard him speak. His voice was deep and slow with that intangible quality that made you want to listen to every word.
“It’s like those fighters who do muay thai,” said Cheryl. “They kick skinny trees so their bones fracture and heal and fracture and heal until they’re calcified as hard as rocks. Then, they go and kick down a banana tree in one smack.”
I looked at her arms, imagining her bones slowly becoming rock. I rubbed my own forearm. It felt fine—not even a bruise. In a way it made sense. If our muscles could put out so much force, our bones and skin and everything else would have to be tougher too. And yet, if we could fracture, I’d bet we could break. We were still human, and all the emotions that came with that title made this talent more dangerous than I’d thought.
“I like that analogy,” said Ashley. “Back over here, banana tree.” She smiled at Damian.
I watched the two of them fight and land punches that sounded like they could obliterate brick walls. Had I really been punching that hard? I closed my eyes and tried to remember the feeling, the cold and hot blood pumping through my veins, a dam in my chest releasing built-up pressure through my fists.
I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders with Cheryl’s again. We started to circle each other.
“Please don’t take offense, but I’m surprised no one found you sooner,” Cheryl said, a bit of attitude burning through her sugary voice.
“What do you mean?” I reversed directions, stepping lightly near the perimeter of the circle.
“I mean, look at you. Your essence is flowing so freely you’d think there was a leaky valve somewhere inside.”
I looked down at my arms and tried to focus my breathing, to pump some of the power that had been there before so I could see my essence. Either extreme calm or unbridled adrenaline seemed to do the trick.
I pictured Kovac where Cheryl stood, and it suddenly became quite easy to see what she meant. Bright blue light enveloped me in a frenzied fire that licked lighter fluid off my skin.
“Whatever anger you used during our first round, just tap into a bit of that again, but remember to try to focus it instead of letting it run wild. Our bodies can’t handle that kind of power for too long. I’d hate for you to burn out; it would make it too easy to beat you.”
“How’d you know it was anger? Not some other emotion?” Talking your enemy into obliviousness seemed an old and practiced tactic of hers.
“I’ve been training my whole life, just li
ke you. I think I can tell an angry fighting style from something with a warm, calm center. Besides, I know there would be no controlling my rage if I were in your shoes. It’d be all that I could think about.”
I waited for her to say something else, but she didn’t. She was being sincere, but maybe just a little too much.
I thought about Grandpa, about Kovac, about the demon’s grating voice.
We rotated three more times until I couldn’t take it anymore. I lunged forward with a punch, blue essence exploding out of my hand ahead of me. Cheryl jumped out of the way at the last second, her essence an equally bright pink-rose.
She spun around and landed a series of jabs to my side, alternating between my kidneys and my jaw like a rodeo bull trampling me.
I twisted out of it and countered with a kick that nearly flipped her to the ground. I sprang forward again and tried to strike out with the same fervor from before.
But it wasn’t there.
She flipped up and elbowed me in the head, knocking me off balance. My vision instantly doubled.
I stumbled, but she didn’t stop. She came at me again and again. Sharp pain cut through my arms and chest as I struggled to take in air.
I heard the demon’s voice louder than ever. My master will return…He will find her. He cannot be stopped.
The dam opened before Cheryl came at me again, and I caught her wrist as her knuckles bludgeoned my cheek. Her eyes widened, and I twisted her arm back as my fist slammed into her nose, wound back, and struck again.
Again.
Again.
Until her head flopped to the side and I kicked her in the ribs. She flew back like a broken bird and thudded to the ground.
I stalked toward her, my heartbeat overpowering cogent thought with something baser, instinctual.
She was still doubled over when I swung back to kick her again
“Eve!” Duke’s golden hand clasped my arm and pulled me back. His hand seemed to sap energy from me until I could hear the silence in the room, until I could hear Cheryl’s shallow breaths shutter through her bloodied mouth.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Eve.” Duke’s whisper commanded a weight off my chest.
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