The Scorned (The Permutation Archives Book 3)

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The Scorned (The Permutation Archives Book 3) Page 16

by Kindra Sowder


  I smiled at the girl. Her eyes were defiant in a matter of speaking, but not in the outright way that I had been with King. Still was. More like that moment when you want to show someone stronger than you that you were just as spectacular as they were and you wanted them to know it.

  “Very nice,” I muttered proudly when our eyes met.

  “Really? You felt that?” she squealed. Her violet eyes lit up with a spark of that same electricity.

  “You seem surprised.”

  I was confused, so I looked around and met the eyes of each person, landing on Ryder who only shrugged. That led me to realize that, because he hadn’t been here either, he knew just as little as I did. I nearly cursed under my breath.

  “She’s been having some control issues with her ability. I’m just surprised she didn’t electrocute you where you stood,” Famke explained. “We’ve been working on it, but electricity is unpredictable. She can do it. She just has to believe it.”

  “We’ll get it,” Jameson comforted as he came around to Genevieve’s side and slapped a large hand on her slim shoulder.

  With that vote of confidence, how could I doubt her?

  “I’m sure she can. You know,” I began as I leaned toward her a little bit. “I still don’t have full control over what I do. Even just a little bit of stress causes it to go haywire.”

  “Like outside?” the older gentleman named Howard asked.

  The question didn’t catch me off-guard. A massive part of me had anticipated that the subject would come up at one point or another. I nodded and looked toward Howard. His deep brown eyes glittered with slight apprehension that spoke volumes even though he had only articulated two words.

  “I won’t lie and say that I have it completely under control. I don’t function on lies. King does. But what I can say is that I want to be able to control this. I don’t want to hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it. I try really hard not to. I’ll need help, and I hope that all of you are willing to do that. After all,” I looked each new Special in the eye just long enough to keep their attention, “we’re all in this together, right?”

  A moment of silence followed my trivial speech, preceded by nods of agreement. No words were needed. The only person to look at me with reverence was Genevieve while Ryder stared at me with love and adoration, the others filled with happiness and contentment with a tinge of unease. I didn’t blame them at all. If I were in their shoes, I would’ve felt the same way seeing the display outside in the clearing. Especially since it occurred because of a bout of extreme anxiety that slammed into me based on the fact that, one day, I may have to take a leadership role within the Fallen Paradigm. My mother was insistent, but I knew full well that I couldn’t hold a candle to her when it came to leading a group of individuals that were so different, even just within our ranks.

  “You know what,” Ryder piped up with a grin, “let’s say we do some showing off, shall we? I know you guys want Mila to see what you’ve got. Maybe one of you can even show her the ropes of training for the Paradigm? Show her what we’ve got? That’s if Famke doesn’t mind helping give that tour.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” she responded. Her hands worked furiously to pull her beautiful wave of red into a high and tight ponytail, exposing her pale complexion even further.

  Ryder took a step forward and clapped his hands together. “Then let’s get to it, guys. Step up into the circle and show her all you’ve got. It’s time to spar.”

  “And don’t hold back,” Jameson finished.

  The entire group laughed uproariously, even me despite the nervousness that spread through my body like a wildfire. These kids were about to spar with powers I had not been exposed to yet besides that of Genevieve who proudly displayed it in our first contact not even moments before this. The electricity had dissipated from the nerves in my hand swiftly, but my palm still tingled slightly. That didn’t matter now. All I wanted to do was see the other Specials and what they had to offer, even if it meant the possibility of getting themselves hurt.

  Ryder came to stand beside me and grazed my arm with his fingers to let me know to take a step back. Famke and Jameson followed suit, both with gargantuan grins filled with sparkly white teeth on their faces. Far too bright and far too cheery considering.

  The six I had been introduced to came to stand in a circle, facing one another with feet spread shoulder-width apart and hands by their sides. This led me to believe that they had done this plenty of times before my arrival. I had only encountered something like this in an actual fight so pairing off in a fictitious one where no one was trying to end your life was something new for me. And the terror of it made my hands tremble while I stood back and watched the group praise each other. Size each other up.

  My eyes were instantly drawn to Genevieve. Her hands clenched into fists as she stared at Howard across from her, her eyes flicking from one person to another, but always landing on the dark-skinned man. If she was looking to impress by going after the most experienced of the group with his power, then she was wasting her time. I was already impressed by her ability, but that was as far as it went until I saw how she handled herself in a situation where her life was on the line. In battle, running for her life. Fighting for it like I had. Like everyone I knew had up to that point. Only then could you discover just how strong someone was. Useful, even. And it looked like I was about to find out for myself when it came to this group of Specials.

  “Ready?” Famke yelled into the atmosphere. Her voice bounced off the walls with fervor.

  Steady, determined nods from each person in the circle.

  “On my signal.” She looked to Jameson, then to us, and back at the Specials in the center of the labyrinth. “Schlägerei!”

  The word was new, something I barely recognized as from the German language, but had no clue what it meant. The only clue I had as to its meaning was the movement in front of me as each person took a step toward the center of the invisible circle.

  Bryce was the first to act, the thin boy reaching forward with both hands with one foot in front of the other. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Did nothing. That was until he brought his right fist back. It sliced the air with a sharp whistle that made me cover my ears when a small stab of pain moved through my remaining eardrum, causing the other to ring slightly. He pushed his fist forward as if he was about to hit someone, but there was nothing to hit but air. And that was all he needed. When his fist stopped stretched out as far as it could go, it was like his knuckles had hit a wall, and an invisible force moved out from it in a ripple. The wave moved out from him and toward his foes with such strength that I didn’t believe anyone could avoid it and they would all go down under its power.

  The two individuals closest to him, whose names I couldn’t remember, were the first to feel the effect of the shockwave. With a startled cry, each of them stumbled back slightly and then flew into the far wall as wave after wave of energy slammed into them. It didn’t stop until they were on the floor as far away from the circle as possible and unconscious.

  I wouldn’t see anything from them during this fight. From what I could see, they were out cold. Jameson separated from our group and hugged the wall, as far away from them as possible, to check on the fallen fighters. The nod he shot our way barely registered while the other two besides Bryce on the floor flattened themselves against the floor. Apparently, they had figured out a way around his ability. From what I could see, the ripples of the shockwave glided over the floor, but never met it, possibly even making the wave weaker in those areas. But that was all conjecture.

  Either way, I couldn’t take my eyes off the three left. The other two were down and out too quickly and would be of no use to the Paradigm’s objective as far as I could see, no matter what power they possessed. It was harsh, but the truth. Not everyone had the stomach for warfare, and I didn’t want to see them get hurt tryin
g to be something they weren’t. Granted, it was going to take a lot to sell me on the idea of sticking around completely, but I would give it the fair chance it deserved. As long as my mother didn’t omit the information I knew was vital to our survival. Only then would I stick around. My life had been filled with lies for years, since my father’s death so long ago, and I was beyond tired of them and the repercussions. I didn’t want to be ignorant of the other side of this way anymore. My side and the side of all the other Specials around me here at the Fallen Paradigm. I wanted to make a difference for us, even within these walls. Especially for those in front of me, in the labyrinth of a training room.

  Howard popped to his feet with the reflexes of a jungle cat while Genevieve rolled to hers, much more smoothly and effectively. She was a talented young girl, that much I could tell. And with a power that could rival so many and help us win the fight against King and his regime as well as Fuji-O’Hara Industries. I still had yet to see what Howard had to offer, but I knew that would be coming within seconds of the thought.

  Once the soles of Genevieve’s shoes hit the linoleum, her hand reached out and released a jolt of brilliant purple electricity toward Bryce, the imminent threat. The same vivid purple of her eyes. I squinted past the brightness of it. Bryce moved out of the way of the shock with lithe energy. Now it was Howard’s turn to strike, choosing the young and nimble girl with pink hair as his target. Genevieve noticed how his eyes flicked over her and raised both hands, electric violet pulsing from her palms. Howard only stood there, staring at the girl without paying any mind to Bryce, who was definitely also a threat to his well-being. The volts in Genevieve’s palms flickered and then went out, her eyes growing wide with fear. All the while, our group watched as Bryce sprinted toward Howard, his fist rearing back for the assault.

  The young girl struggled to move. Each attempted jerk of her body was fruitless, resulting only in a slight twitch that she fought so hard to make more meaningful. Her mouth didn’t open, but she released a muffled cry, and Bryce still came. Before Howard noticed his advance, Bryce was upon him and thrusting his fist forward.

  It was like it all happened in slow motion.

  Howard’s gaze moved from Genevieve to the boy, the event registered on his face, and then the shockwave struck. The ripples moved out in a wave toward the older man and caused his power over Genevieve to slacken, sending Howard through the air and out of the invisible circle their bodies had originally created. And, just like that, Howard was out of the fight, leaving Genevieve and Bryce to battle it out amongst themselves.

  There was no reward for this except bragging rights and my approval, but that was all the recognition they needed. To be noticed.

  To be seen.

  I remembered what that felt like and didn’t care for that feeling ever again because, in the end, the only person that saw me for what I was and what I could do was King. Ryder saw me for an entirely different reason, coming to love and adore me like no other before him. And I was thankful for that.

  But these warriors before me, these children, wanted acceptance and a primal need to belong to something larger than themselves. I couldn’t say I never had because I did. Even as I stood there and watched them circle each other, I wanted it. Next, I would be in this room doing the exact same thing, learning how to hone and control my gift just like them. Only mine seemed deadlier, and I desperately needed the control to keep from turning people into a pile of bloody mush or burnt and deteriorating flecks of skin and bone and tissue. There was only one person on this entire planet I wanted to do that two. Well, maybe two if I were to count Joshua Cranston who had taken my blood initially for that condemning test. All of that would come later.

  Both teenagers continued to circle one another, purple tendrils coming from Genevieve’s fingertips as her boots scuffed on the floor. Ozone nipped at my nostrils, the smell of pure electricity coming from her in a bombardment of overwhelming scent. It didn’t bother me, though. Only hummed against the tip of my nose and just inside my nostrils while I scrutinized their movements and their innate talent with their power.

  That was when it hit me, the recognition of her power. The man that had attempted to escape the compound with a power so much like that in front of me that I nearly became dizzy with the memory. I had killed him with my power. In the infancy of it. My hands began to tremble slightly. I crossed my arms and held my hands against the sides of my ribcage, hoping it would help to keep them still. It was a combination of the smell and the violet voltage that caused the memory to slam into me. I turned my head slightly to glance at Ryder beside me, turning back to the spar taking place.

  I wouldn’t have been able to handle it if it weren’t for his comforting presence. That much was obvious.

  Genevieve’s pink hair glistened in the fluorescent lights above our heads, the color of her electric power contrasting beautifully with the color. Especially against her slightly tanned flesh. The violet in her eyes stood our even more when she used her abilities, turning them more of a glowing purple than just violet.

  Her hands raised until they were facing Bryce with palms out. The branches of energy shot into her palms again just as Bryce planted both of his feet shoulder width apart and brought both fists back as far as they would go. He did this slowly as if he was recharging somehow. They attacked at the same time, glowing electricity meeting the rippling edges of the shockwave the young boy produced with a clash of light and sound. Almost like a thunderstorm. These forces collided with such ferocity that the flash of light made the room blindingly white for a couple of seconds. When it dimmed down, they were struggling to keep a hold on their power, pushing back on the other with all their might in hopes one of them would give out, and the other could be declared the winner of the spar. Both wanted the bragging rights and the acknowledgment. They wanted the battle.

  Through gritted teeth, Bryce cried out at the force of their collision. His body began to shake so badly I could see it from where I stood while Genevieve was the picture of pure strength.

  “Give it up, pretty boy,” Genevieve nearly shouted. “Even I know there’s no way out except to lose.”

  She smirked as she said the words.

  Rubber screeched against linoleum as the strength of their opposing forces pushed him backward a few inches. He took one step forward and then slipped back at least another three. He cried out again and squeezed his eyes shut as if he was attempting to focus all of his energy on staying upright and staying in the game.

  “You don’t have what it takes,” Genevieve pushed. She took a step forward and pushed her open hand out farther to increase the impact of her power.

  It flicked with a loud zap, and the continued the onslaught. Bryce sustained his resistance, but even I saw his fists move back barely an inch to fight her off. He opened his fingers, moved his hands in a small semi-circle, and pushed out like he was moving the air to put more vigor into his defense.

  With a flick of Genevieve’s wrist, the bright purple zapped again and broke through the shockwave toward Bryce. Before it could hit him, he dropped his hands and jumped out of the way, taking him out of the invisible circle they dared not cross.

  Now it was too late. He lost.

  “Halt,” Famke yelled in the same tone as she had begun the spar with.

  Genevieve turned to all of us with a large grin on her as well as a whoop and a holler as she pumped her fist into the air. She even made a little hop of excitement at the prospect of having beaten out five other individuals.

  “Was that a show, or what?” she shouted at our group.

  Behind her, I could see Jameson bringing up the others who had been knocked out of the circle within the first minute of the match.

  “Sure was,” Famke beamed with pride. “That’s my girl.”

  She ran up to the young girl and gave her a high five and turned to Bryce who sheepishly rubbed
the back of his neck while sauntering over to them.

  “Good job, Bryce. That was some control you had there,” Famke rejoined while also giving the youngster the same gesture of comradery.

  There were smiles all around, even those who had lost the fight early on had the same expressions on their faces even though their heads were ducked down in disappointment. I wasn’t certain if I should smile or not, even though a very large part of me really wanted to fit the part. I didn’t enjoy violence as much as the others, but I knew I would learn to at some point during this entire war we were destined to wage. The violence that had transpired so far had only caused me despair up to that point and, if I could have avoided it, I would have. At all costs.

  Ryder looked at me and curled his fingers around mine, those beautiful green eyes shimmering under the fluorescent lights.

  “So?” he asked.

  I glanced at the group as Jameson, and the others joined us, turning back to Ryder whose face was twisted with apprehension.

  “So, what?” I probed. I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “What do you think? About all this?”

  “Please say you’re in,” Jameson interjected when I hadn’t answered. “We need you.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but we’d like to have you around,” Famke continued.

 

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