I had spent months of my life running from O'Rourke, terrified of what he would do if he caught me, but I wasn't running anymore.
"I'm coming for you, Nicolai," I whispered to the empty room, blood dripping from my chin onto my shirt. "Just hold on."
For the first time since I discovered my abilities, I embraced them fully, without fear or reservation. Not as a curse thathad forced me into hiding, but as the weapon they truly were. O'Rourke had hunted me because of what I could do.
Now he would learn exactly what that meant.
Chapter Twelve
~ Mishka ~
My fingertips danced across the keyboard, each keystroke sending fresh waves of pain through my skull. Blood continued to drip from my nose, but I barely noticed it anymore.
The monitors cast an eerie blue glow across my face as I watched O'Rourke's men stumble through the darkness I'd created. They'd come for me thinking I was prey. I was about to show them just how wrong they were.
I deepened my connection to the building's electrical grid, pushing my abilities further than I ever had before. It wasn't just about cutting power anymore—it was about control.
Complete and absolute control.
"Let's make things interesting," I muttered, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.
With careful precision, I began cycling the emergency lights—three seconds on, five seconds off, completely random patterns. Through the infrared security cameras, I watched O'Rourke's men stumble and curse, their coordination falling apart as the unpredictable lighting destroyed their night vision.
A savage satisfaction bloomed in my chest as I observed their growing panic. One man walked straight into a wall when the lights cut unexpectedly. Another fired his weapon at a shadow, the gunshot echoing through the empty corridors. Their fear was becoming palpable, and I was the cause of it.
For once in my life, I wasn't the one afraid.
My attention caught on a feed from the second floor's east wing. Three of O'Rourke's men had cornered someone in what looked like a storage room. I zoomed in, recognizing the trapped figure immediately—Dima, one of Nicolai's most loyal operatives.
Blood streaked his face from a gash above his eye, and he was limping slightly, but the cold calculation in his expression remained undimmed. He was outnumbered and outgunned. Even for someone with his skills, those weren't good odds.
"Not today," I whispered, feeling a strange protectiveness for this man I barely knew. He was Nicolai's, which made him mine to protect too.
The thought should have startled me, but there wasn't time to examine it. I scanned the building schematics, locating the fire suppression systems for that section.
My options flashed through my mind like computer code—sprinklers, foam dispensers, alarm sirens. Each had advantages and drawbacks. The sprinklers would create chaos without causing serious harm to the building's electronics I still needed to control.
I made my decision and executed it in the same thought.
Water exploded from ceiling nozzles, instantly drenching everyone in the corridor. The attackers shouted in surprise, momentarily distracted as they wiped water from their eyes and tried to keep their weapons dry.
It was all the opening Dima needed.
He moved with the fluid grace of a predator, not the injured man he'd appeared to be seconds earlier. I realized he'd been playing possum, exaggerating his injuries to draw his attackers in closer.
Smart.
The first attacker went down before he even registered Dima was moving. A precise strike to the throat, followed by a brutal knee to the temple as the man folded forward.
The second assailant managed to raise his weapon, but the wet floor betrayed him. He slipped, his shot going wide, and Dima capitalized instantly—a spinning kick that connected with devastating precision.
I winced at the audible crack that came through the monitors' speakers. That jaw wasn't going to heal properly.
The third man backed away, eyes wide with fear as he realized his companions had been neutralized in seconds. He fumbled for his radio, but I wasn't about to let him call for backup.
I triggered the emergency alarm in that section, the piercing wail making him flinch and drop the device. In that split second of distraction, Dima closed the distance between them.
There was no hesitation, no mercy in his movements—just the cold efficiency of a man who had done this many times before. Three precise strikes later, the final assailant joined his companions on the floor.
