I ducked the first blast. The second, I pivoted on my heel. With a backward flip, she missed a third time. A vigilante used to hand-to-hand combat versus a villain with energy beams wasn’t a fair fight. I needed to close the distance.
Black consumed the plaza.
I hoped it would give the officers a chance to retreat and keep Booker out of her sight. Unable to see, I tapped the side of my helmet. The audio grew louder. Before my next outing, I’d ask Orion to install thermal trackers. With my secret out, I could only imagine the gadgets he’d arm me with.
“I can still see you.”
Instinct had me rolling out of the way. More concrete exploded behind me.
There was no more separating Tint and Hellion. For too long, I had held back, handicapping myself in a fight. Imagining the two merging into one brought a moment of calm. No, not calm,peace. I never thought my powers useful, andon their own, they might not be, but as Hellion, they were a powerful weapon.
Her toes scraped against the pavement. I drew back my hand, fingers tightening on the baton. With all my might, I swung.
Crack.
Success.
I let the darkness evaporate, forcing my powers to turn her eyes the color of onyx. I leveled the playing field. Keyes’ laughter turned into a damning scream. Palms raised, she fired energy in all directions. A car exploded, and bystanders, both good and bad, ran for shelter.
I had seconds. I smashed the baton against her jaw, ducking under her swinging fist. Weaving to the side, I drove knuckles into her kidney. She kicked, but without her weight behind it, I shoved it aside. If she didn’t yield, I’d end it. For the safety of all, I’d cross that line. I’d wear the guilt for the rest of my life, but Vanguard would be safe…Bookerwould be safe.
The power enveloped her arm as she swung. I braced, but she knocked the baton from my hand. One last chance, one opening. I clutched her hair, pulling it tight before I forced her to double over. Her face crashed against my raised knee, crimson drops spraying across the concrete.
She hit the ground. I cupped my hands together, raising them above my head. Muscles tensed as I prepared to crack her skull against the pavement. One final blow and thefight would end. I hesitated as I danced on the line between vigilante and villain.
Keyes laughed.
She rolled over, the black in her eyes cracking, yellow light bleeding through. She looked up, and the bruises I had given her faded. Not healing. Absorbing.
"More," she whispered. “I want your rage.”
She rose as if pulled by strings. The energy pulsed brighter than before. I swung anyway. She caught my fist as if my powers meant nothing. The bruises had faded, but blood still decorated her face. She wasn’t immortal, but she was more impervious than I was. With her free hand, she grabbed my throat. My feet left the ground.
I kicked, driving my toe into her stomach. She didn't flinch. I tried turning her eyes black again. Color rolled over her eyes. She blinked it away like swatting a fly.
“Adorable. You believed you stood a chance.”
She hurled me across the plaza. I hit what remained of the fountain, stone crumbling under the impact. Weaponless, I was reduced to nothing more than an inconvenience dressed in leather.
I got to one knee, too stubborn to stay down. She fired. The blast caught me in the chest, and I slid across wet pavement until my back struck a streetlamp. I tried to growl but couldn’t catch my breath. I tried to stand, and my legs wouldn't answer.
Hellion always got back up.
I couldn't.
She drifted toward me, and with the toe of her boot, she spun me onto my back. Nothing of Catherine Keyes remained. The reserved woman I first met looked like wild incarnate. I recognized the victory smirk on her crimson lips. I tried raising my arm, but she stepped on my wrist, pinning me. Not even the adrenaline pumping through my veins could save me now.
It hadn’t been enough.Iwasn’t enough. Hellion… had not been enough.
I had failed Vanguard.
“And now you’re going to die.” Her palms flared a brilliant canary yellow.
I closed my eyes. There was no flash of my life, no highlight reel of my greatest moments. All I could focus on was a nervous man in a waiting room, leg bouncing up and down. There were so many books we had yet to discuss. I prayed Booker fled, got far, far away from this place. He’d have to continue reading the greats… alone.
Keyes’ death-cackle marked my end.
23
