“No,” I said. “Not that way.” I grabbed her hand and we ran back to the pile of chairs and dropped to our stomachs. I pulled out my pistol and started counting.
Vinegar and baking soda have a nasty reaction to each other. If I timed it right, it could be awesome. A few more seconds ticked by and I started to worry. If they took too long, my makeshift bomb would go off no matter what I did.
Lucky for me, two guys in cheap suits rushed out of the far stairwell. They ran to the center of the room, looking around as if by concentrating hard enough, they could find me.
One who looked less stupid than the other pointed frantically at the window. As if they silently agreed they ran to the window just as I had planned.
The two men walked carefully on the upside down tables Krisan had placed at the edge. This had the effect of putting them both off balance.
“Did she go out the window?” one asked while he looked down. I cut their search short by firing my pistol. The nine-millimeter bullet struck the five-gallon bucket, instantly relieving the pressure from the baking soda and vinegar. The bucket exploded in a cloud of aerosolized bleach.
They screamed and tore at their eyes as the harsh chemical mixture burned them.
I leaped up and ran at them as fast as I could. Ten feet before the tables I dropped into a slide. The edge of my boot struck the upside-down tables, sending them jolting toward the windows. The men lost their footing.
Two tables and two screaming men went out the window, falling six stories to the roof below. A sense of grim satisfaction filled me. Each criminal I killed was one less crime that would happen in the future.
“So, you’re the one causing all the trouble,” Ghost said as he passed through the wall adjacent to the stairwell.
He ran at me, his coat trailing behind him like a cloak. With his white skin, hair, and clothes he certainly looked like a ghost.
If it wasn’t for the very real punch he landed, I would think he was. I swung back at him and he just stood there, letting my fist pass through him. Then he slapped me across the face.
I stepped back, trying to think through the stinging pain. I can’t hit him, he can hit me; this is a no-win scenario. The only way I could hit him would be at the exact moment he was hitting me. Which he won’t allow, because he has the upper hand here—he controls everything. The cold reality splashed over me: I was going to die, but maybe I could still save Krisan.
“Ten, if you count the morons from the other night,” I said, finally able to catch my breath.
His eyes went wide. “That was you? Not the Wraith?”
So they really did think the Wraith was back. I certainly didn’t want them to know that. Joseph had been nothing but kind to me, other than his refusal to come save me now. I wouldn’t lead them to his doorstep.
“Are you stupid? He died years ago,” I said. That got his goat. He let out a snarl, snapping his hands out to form a three-foot blade out of thin air. My throat seized up at the sight of that sword. Images of Sara’s last moments flashed in front of my eyes at the memory of that blade plunging through me into her.
He took my momentary pause as encouragement, swiping his blade at my throat. I leaped back but not in time, it sliced the scarf right off my face burning a line across my cheek.
“You look familiar—have we met?” He asked as he whipped the blade down to clear the excess blood.
Not only did the SOB kill my family, but he doesn’t even remember doing it? I was dead, no matter what. But if I could wish for one thing, it would be to take this bastard with me. I reached up and my fingers came away wet, the wound was deep.
“You killed my sister on Thanksgiving Day,” I said, spitting the blood from my mouth.
“Oh, you. You got away… and you came here? What, to be Miss Wraith?” he asked with a laugh.
I growled back at him. “You may kill me today, but I am going to take you down with me, I swear.”
“Swear all you want, you’re a dead woman.” His cocksure attitude and obvious disdain made me want to kill him all the more.
However, he wasn’t wrong. I was gonna die today. I closed the distance between us and launched a flurry of blows. If I could keep him engaged at point blank range, maybe he couldn’t go solid. At least long enough for Krisan to flee.
“Krisan! Take the stairs, go-go-go!” I took my eyes off him for one second to make sure she heard me, and it cost big time. His boot slammed into my knee, bending it sideways for a half second. I let out a scream like a banshee’s wail of pain. He slapped me in the face as he ran by on his way to kill Krisan. I simply couldn’t get my knee to function. I tried, pushing down on it with my hand, but it was of no use. She wasn’t going to make the stairs in time. His blade raised up, poised to strike.
The emergency lighting, combined with the lack of lights in the building, formed deep shadows next to the door. As I watched, the shadows coalesced, forming an almost inky blackness. The blade came down but stopped with a sudden jerk as an arm reached out of the shadows and batted it aside. Dressed in a black trench coat and all black tactical clothes, the Wraith stepped out of the darkness as if he was death incarnate, waiting for that moment. His blue eyes burned with an internal fire that seemed impossible. His next blow caught Ghost in the face before the murderer could phase out, shattering his nose and sending him reeling backward.
Fully formed now, Joseph shielded Krisan completely as the reporter ran for the stairs.
Joseph had superpowers?
“You lying bastard!” I yelled.
“Be mad at me later,” he replied with an obvious grin in his voice. I was smiling too. It was time for some long overdue justice.
Chapter 25
Joseph was a blur, his movements cracking through the air like a whip. When Ghost struck, he simply wasn’t there. Spinning, dodging, and counter-attacking. Every time Ghost became solid, Joseph somehow knew, striking with knees, elbows, feet, and fist. As I watched, it dawned on me that every time I had ever landed a blow in training… he had let me.
I pushed the pain down, summoning images of Sara’s last moments to power myself through the agony. I grunted as I stood, half limping, half running to join the fight.
Joseph landed a blow, Ghost doubled over. I brought my good leg down in an ax kick aimed for his lower back. It connected just as he went intangible. It was enough. He flattened against the floor, groaning in pain.
Joseph slammed his foot down where the Ghost’s head was, forcing the assassin to roll sideways.
“He can’t stay intangible forever, keep at him, don’t let him rest,” Joseph said. I was gobsmacked. I’d just assumed he could phase for as long as he wanted… I took advantage of the momentary pause while Joseph chased after the rolling man, slamming his foot down every time Ghost tried to rest. It only took a second to pull my blade out and charge back into the fight.
Ghost faked out Joseph, pretending to roll one way, then reversing himself. Joseph fell for it, sliding forward in the wrong direction. Ghost leaps up, gaining his feet and ran for the windows.
I was running too. As I approached, he took a swing at me with his sword. I dropped painfully to my knees, and let my momentum carry me in front of him, slashing out with my tactical knife as he swung his blade uselessly above me. I was rewarded with the warm spray of blood as my six-inch blade slashed through his stomach.
Ghost staggered to a halt, dropping to his knees and trying in vain to hold in his stomach. He wore no armor, had no protection—the razor-sharp blade had bit deep into his abdomen.
I hopped up, wincing as my knee screamed at me to stop moving. I ignored it as best as I could, stalking toward him with my bloody knife in hand.
“She was fourteen you bastard. Fourteen!”
I wish I could say he looked sorry, or remorseful, but all I saw was the face of a killer. He sneered at me. “You’re dead. When ISO finds out you’re alive they’ll kill everyone you’ve ever loved to get to you,” he said with a chuckle that turned into a c
oughing fit as blood sprayed from his mouth.
“You already did you son of a bitch.” I kicked him in the side of the head as hard as I could. He flew sideways like a ragdoll, sliding in his own blood on the floor.
“Madi, kill him. Don’t torture him,” Joseph said.
“Why not, he deserves it!” I took another stalking step toward Ghost when Joseph’s hand touched my shoulder.
“Because it isn’t justice if you do, it’s revenge. Justice is balance; a life for a life. Revenge is inflicting pain. One is righteous, the other will consume you, and eventually get you killed.”
I wanted to be angry at him, to let the fury that burned in my heart out and scream in frustration. The knife in my hand was suddenly heavy and the world dimmed just a little. Standing over Ghost, for just a moment, was Sara. She looked at me with her big eyes and smiled. Her lips didn’t move but I could hear her. Be good, Madi. Be a force for Justice. Not revenge.
I nodded more to her than Joseph.
“Good girl,” he said. “Now finish it.”
I walked forward to straddle the Ghost, dropping down on his chest with my knees. “You killed my father and my sister. Now I’m going to kill you.” For the first time, real fear flashed in his eyes. I didn’t know if it was the wounds I already inflicted on him, or the pain, or sheer exhaustion that kept him from phasing—regardless, he didn’t.
“Fire, fire, fire!” he yelled.
The snipers!
I wouldn’t be denied. I slammed the blade down with both my hands as hard as I could. The forged steel punched through his chest like it was paper, tearing into his heart and deflecting sideways on the tile floor beneath him.
“Madi!” Joseph yelled. His feet pounded toward me when I heard the glass shatter. Pain ripped through me as I was knocked sideways from the force of a bullet. My right arm didn’t work and I flopped to the ground. Another sharp crack filled the air. I closed my eyes, expecting to die, and I was okay with that. I’d seen justice for Sara. Part of me even expected this to happen.
Joseph hit me, covering my body with his. A cold unlike anything I had ever felt before enveloped me, wrapping me in its icy embrace. I thought it was death itself come to claim me. It wasn’t.
Vertigo slammed into me as we moved without moving. We fell a few feet onto plush carpet in a dark room. Joseph landed fully on me, knocking my breath out as we collapsed.
He almost immediately rolled off, letting me breathe. “Why didn’t… you tell me… you had superpowers?” I gasped. My whole body ached. My lungs burned, and I could feel hot blood pouring out of a half dozen wounds. Joseph may have saved me from a quick death, but I didn’t think anything could save me at that point.
“Madi?” He was above me now, his eyes burning with an intense blue fire. It faded as he spoke to me. How had I not put that together? It was such an unnatural blue. “Try not to move, you’ve been shot twice, and have at least one stab wound.”
I nodded. “Yes… sir,” I said. Joseph’s face disappeared suddenly. Probably off grabbing his med kit. My vision narrowed as blackness encroached from the sides. I could feel death coming. It was okay, I’d be with Mom and Dad again soon… and Sara.
Oh God, I’ve missed you Spice. I got him though, I got him…
“Don’t go Madi, you’re not done here,” Joseph said as his face re-appeared. I managed to lift my head enough to see where the bullet hit. Right smack into my ribs. It was a miracle I was even alive. But I had learned enough about anatomy in the last few months to know that nothing short of major surgery would save me.
I put all my force of will into lifting my arm to grasp his shoulder. “Joseph,” I said, coughing, “I’m dead. It’s okay… it’s okay. I got him.”
He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “Madi, it’s not your time.” A wave of sadness washed over him, he opened his mouth to say something but paused for a few seconds before speaking. “Listen, this is going to hurt like hell. You’ll probably pass out. When you wake up, go to the living room and push the large picture of my wife and girls all the way back. Do that for me, okay?”
“Sure,” I said. I no longer had the strength to hold my arm up, it flopped down to the floor. “Sure,” I whispered.
“I thought I would have more time. I guess we always think that,” he said.
With a sigh Joseph leaned over me and did the last thing I ever expected, he kissed me full on the mouth. He tasted of peppermint tea and blood.
I thought when Ghost stabbed me through the chest that it had hurt. Or that the bullet from the sniper rifle was painful. Nope. I had no idea what pain was until that moment. I truly wished I was dead, because that was preferable to the sensation of fire burning me alive. When it finally ended, I passed out. I was so glad when I did.
Chapter 26
Hoshi swore at his lieutenant. First, the jerk the outfit sent down didn’t even bother to check in with him before he co-opted the OCG’s assets. Then he sent four men to their deaths against The Wraith… for God’s sake, was the Outfit hiring morons these days?
He looked to Asagi, his lieutenant. “Are you sure they’re all dead?”
“Yep. I dropped them off. Four men, plus the albino freak. None of them came out, and the police are saying five bodies.”
Hoshi shook his head. It wasn’t like he had an infinite amount of muscle here. There were other gangs in Detroit that wanted the OCG’s territory. He had lived in Detroit for seven years; for four of those, the Wraith was active. The man had only stopped killing people three years ago, and even the new recruits were scared out of their minds about him. The OCG had gone to great lengths—stupid lengths—to avoid conflict with the vigilante. Everyone knew the stories. The man, if he was even human, could appear out of nowhere, reach into a man’s chest and rip out his heart. Whole gangs would disappear overnight, leaving no trace of what happened to them.
And here comes this idiot who engaged him head-on.
“What about the reporter he was after?” Hoshi asked.
“She wasn’t one of the dead. Do you want me to put a hit out on her?” Asagi asked.
“There’s a reason Ghost wanted to kill her, she has info on us. If she has more… we could be in trouble.” Hoshi swore, slamming his fist on the table. Dammit. They just needed a few more days to get this last shipment out and then they could lay low for a few weeks.
“Task a team, see if you can’t pick her up. No violence though! For God’s sake, let’s not clash with the Wraith a third time. Just quietly snatch her. We can ship her out with the rest of the merchandise and be done with it. With any luck, no one will notice for a couple of days. After you have her, send some guys to search her place, just in case she has any physical evidence on us.”
“I’ll see to it,” Asagi said with a sharp nod.
Hoshi took some relief from the albino freak’s death. It was all over the news; the police were calling it a win. It would take some of the heat off the gang for a few days. There was no mention of the Wraith—why would there be? No one had seen or heard from him in years… since the day he’d disappeared. But Hoshi knew, and it terrified him.
From behind his desk, he looked out at the chop shop he ran. The OCG’s primary income came from smuggling and human trafficking; they always needed new, clean cars to perform both. The police were smart—if they saw the same car leaving the city every week they’d catch on.
Maybe he could keep the OCG out of this, off the Wraith’s radar. The Outfit had used up all their credit with him. If they wanted him to commit suicide by engaging the Wraith, then they would have to pay millions—which he knew they wouldn’t do. So, as punishment for not helping them more, they would lower the prices they paid for his goods
And I am so okay with that.
After all, if the Wraith was back, he was about to lose a lot of competition. If only that moron, Ghost, hadn’t lost nine of his best men in the process. He was going to need more security, and fast. He pulled his phone out, searching through
his contacts. It might cost a little extra, but there were a few mercs he could call. Maybe even some with superpowers, just to even the field a little. Yeah, the mad Russian would be perfect.
It would be worth the price if they could get back to business. That container full of girls on the dock could only stay there for so long before they were discovered. He needed to move them out of town… and fast.
He would need more insurance on this one. It would eat into his profits to bring in a merc with powers, but what choice did he have? If the Wraith was back, and Ghost, who had powers, was dead, he would need someone. He couldn’t spend money if he was dead.
Chapter 27
“Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Madi, wake up. I swore I heard Spice’s voice, but that wasn’t possible. Just another bad dream. Except the pain flaring up through my body was no dream. And oh God was I thirsty! My mouth felt like the Sahara collided with the sun. I groaned as I pulled myself off the floor. Every muscle in my body ached, hell, my bones hurt.
Then it hit me—I was alive? How? I shook my head, leaning over to push myself up, favoring my busted knee— except… it wasn’t busted. I stood up, gingerly putting weight on it until it held me up.
“What the hell?” I said aloud. “Joseph?” He wasn’t here that I could see, and it wasn’t like his house was that big. The thirst hit me again. I staggered toward the kitchen, not even bothering with a cup, I just stuck my face under the faucet and turned the water on. I drank the water in huge gulps, not stopping until my stomach was full of the delicious life-giving H2O.
I turned off the faucet and stretched. Joints popped and muscles ached, but I felt a hundred times better. “Joseph?” I called out again. Nothing. He was hurt as well if I recalled. The night before was a jumbled mess in my brain. However, I could clearly recall Ghost’s death. That brought a smile to my face. “I got him, Spice.” I leaned against the wall for a moment, rejoicing in my small victory. There were other people to kill, but it was a start. A good one.
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