Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy

by DelSheree Gladden

  Six. Five.

  “… and claim the honor of having destroyed the prophesied, all powerful Destroyer.” His smile widens.

  Two. One.

  Time runs out …

  …

  …

  … and nothing happens.

  Howe blinks in surprise. He waits, I’m sure wondering if his clock somehow got ahead.

  It didn’t.

  I think I might have mentioned that I had one more secret left.

  My mother had to have the best. In everything. That included doctors. She couldn’t see anyone in Albuquerque. None of them were good enough for her. No, she had to have some world renowned doctor from Italy. The day I was born was supposed to be a schedule caesarian section. My dear mother wasn’t about to go through a long labor for me. Dr. Vecchi was giving a lecture at Johns Hopkins University the week before and planned to fly in to Albuquerque in time for the delivery.

  Luckily for me, he wanted to have time to eat lunch before bringing me in this world. So when my mom’s water broke hours before the surgery was scheduled to start, he happened to be right there. What he forgot to do was reset his watch when he arrived in New Mexico. According to my dad, Dr. Vecchi’s watch was two hours ahead and he wrote down one-fifteen p.m. instead of eleven-fifteen a.m. One of the nurses tried to correct him, but he spit out a string of Italian curses at her for arguing with him and nobody bothered to change it. My mom was too out of it to pay any attention to the argument.

  Two hours ago when I was lying on the floor of my cell feeling like I was about to die, I was in fact embracing my true identity.

  Now, it’s my turn to smile.

  My lips turn up as I stare Howe down. I can see his eyes widen, sense his heart rate spike, feel the terror inside of him. My grin grows even wider. He actually flinches and takes a step back. “You’re too late,” I say simply.

  I step closer to him and grab the front of his shirt so he can’t run. The other Guardians are all either too stunned or too confused to act. “Now it’s my turn to give you a choice. Get out of my way, or die.”

  “No, you … I don’t,” Howe splutters. His eyes flash over to Braden. “But you killed him! Why, if you already had your power?”

  My mind jumps back, to that moment when Braden’s blood started pouring over my fingers.

  Please let this work, please let this work, is the only conscious thought in my head. Some deeper part of me goes to work, my open hand pressing against the flesh I just ripped open. Braden’s eyes bulge as he struggles for air that won’t come. Only a fraction of a second has passed since the blade first pierced his skin, but my power is already blasting through his body. Naturalism works in the background of my mind, sealing up the cut I just made before Braden either bleeds to death or suffocates. There are so many talents flaring among the Guardians right now that no one will ever notice my own added to the mix.

  I’ve practiced healing cuts hundreds of times over the last couple months, but only on myself. Seeing Braden’s blood is pure torment. I can barely focus enough to finish as I feel its warmth slide over my skin, but I seal the wound just enough to save his life. If anyone looks too closely they’ll see that the cut is barely a quarter inch deep now, but they’re all too busy watching me. I just need their attention for a few more seconds.

  I hesitate, ready to send one more blast of power through him. This is going to hurt. My entire being is thrumming with power and concentration for a whole different reason. Blood to blood contact. That was the key. It’s how you share power, and it’s how you give it back. Spiritualism runs rampant first, zipping down through the fragile link between us. It strengthens the Companion connection and makes sending my Perception in after it a much easier task.

  All the times I scoured Braden for a way to give his talents back imprinted his makeup on my soul. There is no searching this time. Perception blasts its way into the empty pools begging to regain their missing power, but not to fill them. Instead it wraps around the talent centers and encloses them in a protective bubble with a direct route back to my own talents, ready for Concealment to go to work. Two or three seconds have passed now. I have time.

  I try not to think at all as my Concealment grabs hold of my own talents and rips away the stolen portion. The pain I felt a few hours ago is nothing compared to this. My mouth stays clenched shut, but my soul screams in torment. It takes all my effort, more power than I have ever held before, to tear away a part of myself and hurl it back at Braden. My agony starts to ebb, but as the power hits Braden his whole body jerks under the force. Through the link, I can feel him crying out at the torture I am putting him through. My expression crumbles and tears waterfall down my cheeks. I can barely focus enough to finish, to cram every last bit of power into him that I can, before breaking the link and dropping to the ground along with him.

  I had told Braden to play dead as soon as I was finished, but it turns out I didn’t need to. Neither of us could have stayed standing if our lives had depended on it. But in all reality, our lives depended on doing just what did, collapsing. Braden in mock death. Me in spirit crushing defeat. Howe swallowed every bit of it without a second thought.

  I glance down at my left wrist. Satisfaction runs through me as Howe sees only one stolen diktat remaining on my wrist. No one but me noticed the band of slowly blackening diktats on Braden’s left wrist when they broke us apart. I’m not sure Braden noticed at the time, either, but as soon as he recovers enough to tap his talents he is going to find double the power he once had. It’s a small thank you for going along with me on this. I would have given him all of Drake’s stolen talents, but Braden never had Vision to begin with. Now, he’s going to have more power than he knows what to do with.

  But we aren’t done yet. Not even close.

  I look up from my wrist and meet Howe’s confused gaze. “I killed Braden? Are you sure?”

  That’s Braden’s cue. His first movements are slow, stiff. Every eye in the world watches his blood covered body rise from assumed death to glorious rebirth. No Guardian intercepts him. All they can do is stare, knowing full well that they are most likely watching their hopes die.

  I can barely breathe as Braden’s fingers move from his Guardian emblem to his forehead and heart without anyone trying to stop him.

  He smiles as his finger rest above his heart, completing the Oath he wanted to give me so long ago. His power comes rushing across our Companion link and burrows into me. My body literally tingles with power, flecks of energy bursting around me like a glorious halo visible to everyone. Howe sags against my grip.

  “Choose,” I demand of him.

  I almost think he’s going to give in. Then he pulls himself back up and shakes his head firmly. “No. You’re still just one person,” he says quietly despite the absoluteness of his words. “You can’t win against us. We did what the prophecy said. You can’t win. You can’t beat us.”

  I pull his face even with mine and say, “Watch me.”

  ***

  I have just declared war, and everyone in the world heard me do it. Nobody waits around to second guess what is going on. They just act. The massive amounts of Guardians waiting out of view start pouring toward me. In the split second it takes me to analyze the situation, Howe makes his move. He jerks himself out of my grip and a shield of Concealment drops over him, taking him right from view. It’s the best shield I’ve ever seen. Better than Hammond could ever hope to create. Howe’s power and ability is stunning. But it’s nothing compared to mine.

  Concealment works both ways. Tapping my own power, I see right through his shield and track his movements as he sprints away from me like the coward he is. I pick up on the unique power signatures of my friends and Ciphers as they take the field with me. I can’t feel any of them as strongly as I feel Braden, but I know they’re there. There are thousands of Guardians closing in on me, but I keep my focus pinned to Howe and take off after him.

  It doesn’t take me very long to catch up to him. He
turns just as I lunge for him, and I barely avoid the blade poised to dig into my chest by rolling to the side. As I fall, I grab his wrist and pull him down with me. He’s still trying to keep hold of his blade in hopes of using it on me. Midway through our fall, I tap my Strength, quadrupled by my own unlocked talent, Braden’s double dose, and the bonus of the Companion link and Guardian Oath working together, and snap his wrist in half.

  He screams out in pain as his crushed bones slap against the ground. His own Strength is useless against mine. He pulls hard on his Speed to try and dart out from under me. The shadow of Vision tapping swirling around him does no good, because my Concealment hides my future from him. Knowing his talents are useless, his hand darts to his gun and whips it out in a blur of motion. Three shots ring through the air so fast the concussions of each shot smash together into one devastating boom. I don’t even get the chance to react before I am thrown to the ground. Through the blur of falling, I catch sight of Milo.

  I can only watch as bullets careen toward his chest amid the noise of battle. He doesn’t move out of the way. I panic, but he simply meets Howe’s eyes and taps his Naturalism. The lead superheats at his command and dribbles to the ground before they close even half the distance. Howe’s black pupils engulf the blue of his eyes entirely as it finally sinks in that he is about to die.

  One small turn of Milo’s head gives me access to his eyes, to his soul. I can see the regret, the self-loathing, the honest desire for penance that can never be achieved. He says nothing, and neither do I. Instead, he turns back to Howe and gathers his power.

  Milo knows how to kill people mercifully. It would take little effort for him to send his Naturalism into Howe’s body and will it to stop beating. He could make Howe’s death painless and peaceful if he really wanted to. He could repay the evil this man has wrought on the world with mercy. The immensity of his power gathering around him is a clear indicator that this won’t be a merciful death. I could stop him. His hesitation gives me the option.

  But I don’t accept.

  Instead, I take over.

  I stand up and step toward Howe. Milo moves aside in deference, but doesn’t release his power. Howe is too terrified to even move. Every combustible molecule in the air around me rushes to my hands. The air shimmers as the elements congeal between my outstretched fingers. With one simple push of power, the ball ignites and I hurl it at Howe. There is no screaming, no squirming, no flames to put out. There is only ash scattered on the ground.

  One psychotic Guardian down, several million to go.

  I look away, and find Milo. I can see the pleading in his eyes. He wants me to say something. The anger I just spent on Howe rebuilds and fuses my lips shut. I don’t know if he expects my thanks, or just an acknowledgement of his presence, but I can’t give him either right now. Turning away, my attention flicks behind me to where the main battle is raging.

  The sounds coming from the Great Lawn stagger me. Screams, blasts of energy, agony, breaking, total mayhem races through the air. I take a second to open up my talents before moving forward. I can feel the energy swirling around me. Talents are rushing through the air and colliding with their targets like kamikaze insects. Every talent is represented, but there is no overpowering surge of Spiritualism like there would be if the Dorotabos had shown up.

  Where are they? Howe wouldn’t have waited to bring them in. His faith in the prophecy and his own planning didn’t stretch that far. He should have called his twisted army in right away. I can’t see anything to do but head back into the fray and wait for them to arrive. I start to tap my Speed when Milo’s raw voice cries out in panic.

  Chapter 37

  Darkening Chaos

  Zombies are always so slow in the movies. Brainless hunks of meat roaming around in search of something to nibble on. Dorotabos, on the other hand, are fast. Really, really fast. And completely single-minded. Their glazed eyes are focused on nothing but me as they barrel forward. In the second it takes for my mouth to pop open in shock, they close half the distance between us.

  I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but this isn’t one of them. I spin on my heel, grab Milo, and run for my life. I’m not exactly sure how much my power has increased since unlocking my full talents and combining them with Braden. Maybe it’s more than the six-fold power humming through the Dorotabos. Maybe it’s not. I’m not interested in finding out just yet.

  A few strides into my adrenaline fueled run, Milo stumbles, completely incapable of keeping up with me. I shoot him an extremely irritated look as I yank him under my arm and pick up speed. If irony were a person, she’d be laughing her head off right now. She would be the only one, though. I risk a glance behind me to gauge how much time I have before the Dorotabos catch up to me. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see that I’ve actually gained some ground on them.

  Until Milo manages to get a foot back on the ground and pitches us both sideways, that is. At the speed I was travelling, we slam into the ground and my breath lurches out of my body. I handle the impact better than Milo and pin him to the ground in single-minded fury. Adrenaline seems to be doing my thinking, because my blade is on its way to Milo’s throat before I can even process his newest betrayal. I probably would have killed him if not for the streak of lightning plowing into the ground five feet away from us. Right where we had been a few seconds earlier.

  Throwing him an angry glare, regardless, I haul us both up off the ground and leap back into a sprint. The Dorotabos are less than one hundred feet away. I can hear the sounds of more lightning and fire balls blasting away chunks of earth. Almost as loud are the battle cries and screams of pain and death flying through the air. I just pray none of those voices belong to my friends as I dash into the thick of it.

  The conglomeration of friends and enemies slow me enough that I can get rid of Milo. My rough shove away from me makes him stumble for a moment before he catches his balance. His frustration shows in his expression. He deserves a lot worse. I’m more focused on judging the tide of the battle as I shove my way through to the center than I am on him. I recognize a few faces of the dead, but more than anything I see Guardians lying in their own pooling blood. It by no means says I’m on my way to a sure victory, not with the Dorotabos nipping at my heels, but it’s an encouraging sight.

  Milo pushes back to my side suddenly. His eyes aren’t on me, though. They’re searching the faces of the dead littering the ground. “Celia’s fine,” I say, “I can feel her using her power up ahead somewhere.” He grunts and picks up his speed. I don’t know that he wants to rush back to his little sister’s arms. She’s just as likely to punch him in the mouth as hug him. Oh well.

  I bat away a lunging Guardian with a small effort as he tries to sink his knife into my thigh. The way his head rebounds off the ground with a squishing sound barely registers with me as I search out Braden. The link between us practically pulls me to him. I catch sight of him right as an unearthly howl rips through the air, stopping everyone, friend and enemy alike, dead in their tracks.

  I expect panic from my side. Relief from the Guardians. It is almost unsettling to see the exact opposite happen. I don’t even understand it at first. The Guardians should be thrilled to see their main enforcers rallying behind them. Instead they cower, some even running from the field. It makes no sense until the first Dorotabos crashes into view and rips a Guardian in his way into two uneven pieces and tosses them to the side. I honestly would have thrown up right there if my body hadn’t been frozen in place right down to my toes.

  They can’t control them, I realize. The Guardians poured a whole mess of raw, unwieldy power into their creations and simply let them loose. The heat seems to slither out of my body. I thought the link the Spiritualists had to maintain would keep them in check, direct them. I see just how wrong I was, but the reminder of these monsters’ handlers brings me back to life.

  That’s when I realize why my side got so excited at the sound of the Dorotabos. I continue my sprint tow
ard Braden as Spiritualism saturates the air around me. Milo feels it too and his eyes widen. “Spiritualism? Libby, stop them. It won’t work! Don’t let them do it!”

  “What?”

  More Dorotabos crash into the crowd of combatants and everyone on the outskirts of the battle start running in earnest, cutting off whatever Milo might have said in answer. I lose sight of him in the rush. My team is already on their way to the main body of combatants. Focused more on finding the Spiritualists than the battle, the panicked Guardians wantonly attack them as they run. Half a dozen fall in mere seconds. A stray thought I had been playing with over the last couple of weeks captures my mind and I reach for my own Spiritualism. I hold it only long enough to form it into thousands of different conduits before flinging it away from me.

  It was just the beginning of an idea I’d had while lying in bed, trying to not move too much after one of my sessions with Milo. I had wanted to talk to Braden, hear his voice, and I wondered if I could talk to him through my Spiritualism. Something like using it to manipulate people. He was way too far away, but it seemed like a plausible idea. I test it now.

  I can’t target only my people, it is too fast and chaotic to even try, so I just send my Spiritualism out and thrust it into every mind I can reach. I scream out a simple and direct command.

  “Focus! Regroup on me!”

  Everyone, even the Guardians, spin toward my position and closes in behind me. Thousands of people flock into the center of the Great Lawn. I hadn’t expected it to work so well. When I let go of my power, the Guardians look stunned, but most of them stay where they are, apparently recognizing joining the enemy as preferable to being torn in half. I cry out in panic when a hand wraps around my waist and jerks me backward. My talents and fists come up in defense, but Braden’s face mashing up against mine in a desperate kiss melts away the battle, the fear, everything but the feel of his body pressing up against me. It lasts only a second before he pulls back and his harried expression returns.