“I know. But the point is, I don’t want to see any more beings die if we can help it. She’s messed up from the weird rift. We don’t know if there might be a way to get through to her once we’re not chasing her around the city.”
Jonah speaks up in his reassuringly steady tone. “Peri’s right, for more than one reason. Viscera is the only higher being we’ve encountered so far who came out of one of those new rifts—the only warped shadowkind we could talk to. If we can convince her to talk withus, she might be able to tell us things that could fix the whole problem of the rifts.”
That is also a good point, probably a better one than my appeal to emotion as far as Rollick is concerned.
A smile touches my lips. This is why the bonds we’ve formed are a good thing. We really are stronger, smarter,morewhen we’re together.
A whole food court of buffets with all the flavors any of us could need.
Raze nods. “I’ve been experimenting… I might be able to paralyze her with my powers rather than outright kill her.”
Hail’s eyes brighten. “She didn’t like the wind I conjured before. I can whirl a bunch around her to help trap her. And add some ice to the mix if I need to.”
Mirage lets out a burst of laughter. “And I can reach right into her head and tweak her thoughts. Make her think she’s still free when she’s really caught. Maybe then she won’t fight?”
Rollick’s expression looks skeptical. He exhales in a sigh. “All right. I can’t say I’m hopeful about your odds, but youhave plenty of backup. I’ll be here—and Sorsha’s crew and our shadowbloods—to strike the final blow if it comes to that.”
He gestures to everyone he mentioned. “Be prepared to surround the rogue shadowkind and take her down immediately if Peri’s team can’t contain her.”
The uncomfortable weight lingers in my stomach, but his acceptance is the best outcome I could hope for. We aren’t smashing up part of the city just for kicks.
We have to take the opportunity to stop Viscera completely, however we need to in the end.
Jonah passes me a steel bar while holding on to one for himself. Unlike most of our allies, we don’t have powers that lend themselves easily to bashing and breaking. I’d rather not turn myself into a volcano of emotion just to carry out our ploy.
I extend my awareness as far as I can reach it through the strip of storefronts we’ve chosen. Not a single splash of human emotion reaches my senses.
“The buildings are all clear,” I tell Rollick. “Everyone’s gone.”
He sweeps his arm toward our surroundings. “Then let’s begin!”
We don’t want to ruin the whole street all at once. We need to leave time for Viscera to notice the commotion.
That’s not a problem for me. I march up to the front of a clothing shop and whack the display window with my bar, but all that I get for my effort is a crack in the glass.
Frowning, I hit the pane harder. More cracks form.
With my third strike, the glass crumples in a shower of shards.
An unexpected sense of satisfaction ripples through me. There’s something almost… exhilarating about making something fall apart. Maybe just being able to exert enough power to do it in the first place?
But I can only feel that way because I know no one is getting hurt because of what we’re doing. The store owners will be able to recover from the damages with the insurance Rollick talked about.
Viscera is going around trying to harm everyone as much as she can.
Not just for the sadistic enjoyment after all, though. She’s sounded angry, frustrated… almost betrayed.
Pull us in and push us away. Make us twist and twitch. Screw them!
Who was she talking about? That thing about pulling and pushing sounded almost like the impressions I get from the strange rift… but she’s not rioting at the portal.
As I batter my bar against the window frame, leaving dents in my wake, my companions bring their own powers to bear. Raze snarls and flings a mailbox across the street with a swing of his fist. Hail sends a shower of piercing ice pellets at the upper windows of the buildings, the frigid chunks smashing through the glass and thudding across the floor inside.
Mirage has shifted into fox form. He cavorts through the street, all five tails swishing behind him, scratching up paint and tearing posters from the telephone posts with his teeth. Jonah shatters the pane on a shop’s windowed door and kicks the metal frame for good measure.
Matching trickles of exhilaration and an airy tang of relief stream through our connection. The tension that gripped my men for most of the past few weeks is seeping away with every slash and bang.
Maybe they’ve needed a chance to let it out. All our own frustrations and fears can be poured into this unnerving act.
