by Minton, Toby
She backed into a small table against the side wall, sending several somethings clattering to the floor. She risked a quick glance and saw a collection of makeshift weapons. Bottles, chair legs, pry bars—some broken, all blood-stained. She caught Hanging Man's intense green stare before she whipped her head back around. So, not weapons—torture tools.
Her stomach turned over at the thought. Then her body followed as a blow she never saw coming sent her cartwheeling over the table to the rough stone floor. She lurched back to her feet with a growl, the pain just starting to swell in her cheekbone. She was a master of the sucker punch. To fall to one herself…
Crotch Shot stepped smoothly around the table, looking pleased with himself. He was the one who'd gotten the drop on her. Nose Job circled wider toward Hanging Man, clearly letting his partner take the lead. He thought everything was under control. He thought the fight was all but over, which only fueled Nikki's anger.
She felt behind her as she backed toward the corner. She'd seen something big back there before. The tools she'd knocked off the table were all small and sharp. Not only did the thought of using them make her a little sick, they just weren't her style. That's not how she fought, not what she knew. Michael was talking her through what to grab, how to hold it, where to strike with it, complete with images of her doing as he said, but like before, his backseat fighting was more distracting than helpful. She couldn't focus on him and Crotch Shot at the same time, even though Crotch Shot seemed content to let her make the next move. He was watching her like a young lion toying with an injured hare. He knew the outcome, and he saw no reason to rush it.
She hit the back wall and her hand closed on the cool metal of an iron fence post propped in the corner.
That's more like it, she sent back to Michael.
Despite his warning, she pushed off from the wall and brought the post around in a sweeping arc. Or tried. Once upon a time she would have succeeded. She would have whipped the post around like it weighed nothing and flattened anyone dumb enough to stand against her. Not today. The post was nearly as tall as she was, and it was so heavy her mighty head-high swing was more like knee high and barely controlled. It did make the gypos step back out of range though.
Michael started thinking instructions again, but Nikki concentrated on blocking him out. He thought he was helping, but he was doing the opposite. He was rattling her, making her nervous when she needed to be anything but. She could do this on her own. She had to.
Nose Job darted toward her, and Nikki swung the post again. She didn't come close to hitting him. Her aim was dead on, she just didn't have the power to make the heavy iron move as fast as she wanted. He sidestepped her clumsy swing and clipped her on the side of the head with a taunting blow. Then he danced away again with a bloody smile.
They were toying with her, dragging this out for their amusement. She'd been on the giving end of that treatment plenty of times, but never on the receiving end. She wondered if the people she'd teased like this had felt this same infuriating—no, humiliating frustration.
Nikki, you need to—
Stop it! She cut him off with a mental shout loud enough to start a headache. You're throwing me off my game.
I know, Nikki, he thought. I see that. I'm shutting up. Just…hold it like a staff. You'll be able to handle the weight that way. The images coming through from him matched his words, and then some. She saw herself whirling the bar around like she was in a kung fu movie, attacking with quick strikes from both ends, her hands half a meter apart in the middle to keep the heavy bar balanced.
No more distractions. I promise. Michael was afraid for her, she could tell, even though he was trying not to let her know it. The confidence she felt pouring through from him couldn't be faked though. Scared as he was, he knew she could do this on her own. He believed in her.
Take these guys, sis.
Nikki did smile this time. And while the gypos were trying to figure out what that meant, she adjusted her grip on the bar and charged.
Michael was right. Changing her grip made a world of difference. The bar was still way too heavy for her, but she could control it. More than that, she could whip the ends out and back quickly enough to put the gypos on the defensive, if not do any damage.
They were fast and slippery, but she was furious in her attack, clipping a hand here, glancing off a leg there. She was a whirlwind—a clumsy, irritating whirlwind, but still a force to be reckoned with.
Unfortunately, the fury giving her the edge was also wearing her out. The bar and her arms were getting heavier with each swing, and she wasn't dealing out any lasting damage, not until she used the weight to her advantage and brought the bar crashing down into Crotch Shot's ankle. The blow sent painful vibrations up Nikki's arms as the tip of the bar ground into the concrete, but it also made Crotch Shot drag himself away from the fight with a hissing curse.
Nose Job moved in, but Nikki was riding high on her victory. She drove him back with a series of swings then feinted a blow at his knees with a shout. He took the bait and jerked both legs back, his head leaning forward just as she brought the other end of the bar around high. The swing caught him square on the temple, and Nose Job collapsed under the impact Nikki barely felt. She'd hit him just right with a move that was pretty shway, she didn't mind telling herself. Hanging Man agreed.
"Crafty bastard," he growled from behind her.
She wasn't a huge fan of being called a bastard, but it was a step up from "little slip" she supposed. She looked back expecting to see him looking at her with a healthy dose of respect and gratitude, well deserved, but his eyes were fixed over her shoulder on Gideon across the room.
When Nikki followed his gaze, her battle high drained away. The other two goons from the hallway stepped past Gideon and advanced on Nikki after a low, angry command from Daemon. Nikki lifted the bar to ready herself, but the shakes were already setting in. Adrenaline and her tired muscles had done all they could.
Even her brain was exhausted. When one of the tall gypos raised his hand and pointed a device at her, she didn't register what it was until the probes pierced her shirt and every muscle in her body locked up.
When she managed to unclench her jaw and open her eyes again, she was curled up on the floor next to Hanging Man's leg, her face pressed against the wall, the taste of her own blood and the grime from the damp stone on her lips.
She looked up into Hanging Man's eyes, pale green and catching the light so much they almost seemed to glow. She hoped hers would look that defiant after she joined him on the wall. She hoped she'd look half that sane.
Get up, Nikki. You're not done. Michael's voice was strong, but she couldn't tell what he was feeling. The way she was shaking, she couldn't tell anything at all. My sister doesn't give up.
She could have kissed him, or punched him. He still knew how to get her moving, even after all that had happened. Her arms and legs didn't want to cooperate though. So instead, she laughed.
It was weak and scratchy, but it was a laugh. And it helped her find her voice. "Is that…all you got?" she choked out. Then she laughed again, louder.
One of the gypos kicked her hard in the shoulder. She saw it coming, but she couldn't do anything to stop it. The blow flipped her onto her back, so she could see him clearly as he placed his foot against her neck and pressed down.
Nikki!
Michael's shout scared her, almost more than the fact that her scrabbling hands could do nothing to shift the man's weight. She couldn't breathe, and the pressure was increasing, pushing her neck into the crook of floor and wall farther than it could bend.
When she heard the pop, she knew it was over. She actually thought, It's over, with a relief as embarrassing for her as it was concerning for Michael.
The weight lifted off her neck. She sucked in a deep, wracking breath.
You're OK, Nikki, Michael said, repeating it over and over like he was trying to convince himself.
She was, somehow.
&nb
sp; Gideon. He must have finally stepped in. After a few more breaths her brain processed what she was seeing—it wasn't Gideon.
The gypo who'd been standing on her was in the air above her, twitching and gasping as he dangled from the massive, manacled hand clamped around his neck. Hanging Man's hand. The metal cuff was still tight around his wrist, but the broken leather strap hung loosely from it, tapping against the gypo's chest as he struggled. Hanging Man wasn't struggling though. His outstretched arm, though taut, was completely motionless, like an iron bar itself. Like he wasn't holding a full-grown, if scrawny gypo, a meter off the floor.
"Doesn't feel good, does it," Hanging Man growled in a way that only added to the chill of the stone floor seeping into Nikki's back. He shook the gypo once, then snapped his arm to the side, hurling the dark man into the wall with such force that he didn't twitch once after he crumpled to the floor.
The other goon, the one with the stun baton, was backing away slowly, his eyes wary but fearless as he watched the Hanging Man snap the other leather strap and then lean down to unlatch his ankles.
Nikki rolled out of his way and struggled to get up. Her shaky limbs wouldn't cooperate. She made it only as far as her hands and knees—where she stayed for several seconds waiting out a head rush—by the time Hanging man freed both legs and took a staggering step away from the wall. He leaned back, arching his back with a grimace until it popped louder than the straps had. Then he leaned forward, grabbed Nikki by the back of her jacket and hauled her to her feet.
Only then did he look up at the goon backing away, then Gideon, and finally Daemon, whose eyes he held for a long time. The stare-down lasted what felt like minutes but was probably only a second or two—Hanging Man's face was impassive but somehow on the verge of rage at the same time, Daemon's looking like he'd swallowed something rotten.
"We're done here," Hanging Man grated.
After a minute Daemon lifted his hands and bowed his head, regaining his composure. Then he turned and sauntered from the room like nothing had happened, his goon hard on his heels.
Hanging Man turned his attention to Gideon. "Well, old man, you offering me a ride or not?"
Chapter 17
Gideon
"I’m looking out for your interests, friend. If you get caught leaving port without a valid docking code, you could lose your vehicle." The arrogance perforating the feigned concern in the operator’s voice was clear, even through the shuttle’s aging speakers. "I don’t want that on my conscience."
Gideon narrowed his eyes at the com system but didn’t offer further argument. Instead, he transmitted the funds and waited for clearance. This bribe was nearly double the amount he’d paid upon arrival, which had been more than enough to warrant a blind-eye upon departure. Not so long ago, one-tenth as much would have bought discretion for a week. Not so long ago, the increase would not have concerned him.
Less than a year ago Savior located one of Gideon’s most lucrative overseas investments and seized the funds for his own use. Since then, Gideon’s resources had fallen into decline for the first time in decades. At their current rate of decay he could support the team for only a few more years. His impending financial ruin wasn't what caused the tightness behind Gideon's eyes, however. It was the fact that as quickly as the money was disappearing, it still might outlast the human race.
The clearance code came through, and Gideon guided the shuttle off the platform and into the night sky. Beside him, Nikki sat deep in the passenger seat with her knees pulled up against her chest. She’d spoken very little on the walk back to the docking tower, and not at all after climbing into the shuttle. She sat in silence, gingerly touching her swollen cheekbone and split lip and casting dark glances at Cole hunched in the back seat.
"So you guys know each other," she said finally. It wasn’t a question. Gideon hadn’t expected it to be. Nikki was sharper than she liked to let on, which was to be expected considering her genes.
Gideon glanced at Cole in the rearview, not surprised to see his unwavering stare locked on Nikki. Had the situation been different, Gideon might have been pleased that his plan for securing the man had worked exactly as he’d anticipated. Cole Magnusun hadn't come with them by choice, however, not entirely. He'd come because Gideon had known exactly which of the man’s buttons to press. He’d known exactly how to manipulate him.
When they were younger, Gideon had been in awe of Hale's ability to manipulate people seemingly without effort. Crippled by his own social awkwardness, Gideon had tried to emulate his friend, to duplicate through focus and study what came naturally to the man who would one day become Savior. He succeeded, in his own way. Gideon’s manipulation was more obvious and far less elegant. His was a bludgeon to Savior’s scalpel, but it was no less effective. His success brought him none of the joy and comfort he’d once believed it would, however. He’d tied Elias to him, maneuvered the Daemon into the uneasy agreement that kept them useful, convinced Nikki he was only trying to help her. And, greatest of all his sins, made Michael believe the choice to give up his life for his sister was his own.
Now he’d trapped Cole in his web as well, all too easily. All he’d had to do was put Nikki in place and wind her up. She couldn't resist stepping up to save him, not once her subconscious made the connection between Cole's situation and her own, the connection Gideon had known it would make, and once she acted, Cole couldn’t help but see the resemblance in her. He couldn’t help but recognize her reckless passion and stubborn will to fight. He couldn’t help but make the painful connection Gideon knew he would make.
Gideon had used Cole to draw out the hero he needed Nikki to become, and used that hero to strike the one place Cole was vulnerable, but the guilt he should have felt for doing so didn't touch him. He'd retreated behind the emotional barrier, the one gift of his alien side he'd learned to treasure since his failure with Michael.
"We do," Gideon replied. Cole met his eyes in the rearview and continued to stare after Gideon returned his gaze to the dark hills outside. "Or we did. Long ago."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Nikki snapped, fixing Gideon with a glare he ignored. "If you knew each other, you know each other. A simple yes is all I needed. You're such a drama queen."
A rumble from the back seat could have been a growl or a deep laugh, but Cole's shadowed face remained stony and impassive.
"And that Daemon guy?" Nikki went on. "You knew him too."
"The Daemon," Gideon corrected, though he didn't relish explaining their creation in front of Cole. Some memories were better left in the past.
"What, like the Pope?"
Gideon considered and rejected several ways to explain before settling on simplicity and vagueness. "Daemon is what they call themselves as a group. They don't share their individual names with outsiders, not even those of us who know their origin."
Nikki grunted her feelings on that before asking the obvious. "And their origin is…?"
"You should know, little slip," Cole growled from the back seat.
Nikki's eyes tightened at Cole's words, but she just studied him for a minute in silence before turning back to Gideon. "So—Savior."
Gideon nodded. "The Daemon were his final attempt to create soldiers by blending human DNA with that of the alien I brought back with me through the Gateway." He flexed his taloned hand carefully before lowering it back to the controls, memories of those first years after E-Day, before he'd seen Savior's path, still vivid in his mind.
"Soldiers, huh?" Nikki barked a laughed. "Tried for soldiers, ended up with gypsy club rats. Another epic fail for Savior. You know, for somebody who's loved by all, he sure screws up a lot."
"The Daemon did prove uncontrollable, and less physically powerful than previous attempts," Gideon said evenly, avoiding Cole's eyes in the mirror. "But dangerous nonetheless. They have abilities that should not be underestimated."
"You mean the ones you didn't warn me about? You know, when you failed to prep me at all before we walked
in there. What exactly was it they were doing to me in there, before things got rough?"
"Feeding," Gideon replied. "More precisely, bingeing. Human emotion is like a drug to them. They can sense it, draw it out, drink it in as energy. The more volatile the personality—" He glanced over at her. "The more powerful the emotion, the stronger the Daemons' high."
"So, what's the big secret there?" she said, craning her head closer to the console to try to get in Gideon's line of sight. He pretended he didn't notice, even though his field of vision out of his alien eye was wider than the other. "Why couldn't you just say that before we went? Instead, you had to be all—" Her voice dropped into a crudely inaccurate approximation of his. "—only you can persuade him."
"Unless you wanted me to persuade them to pound on me, that is," she went on. "If that was the plan—doneski. Otherwise, you suck at plans."
Cole laughed, the sound a rich, rolling growl with just a skim of mirth riding the bitterness underneath. "This little slip burns hot."
"That slip business is getting old, hillbilly." Nikki twisted to shift her glare to Cole. "What's your story anyway?" Gideon looked over to see her sizing Cole up. "Wait, don't tell me. Gideon said you knew each other 'long ago,' and I'm guessing he meant long to him, not long to me. So—a really long time. That makes you older than you look, and that's gotta be really old. No offense."
Cole growled, but he looked almost amused in the rearview.
"My guess—you're one of Savior's little projects," she went on. "So which failure are you?"
"Guess again," Cole said.
When Gideon turned to look at her, Nikki was eyeing Cole like she didn't believe him. She knew she was right, and she was, for the most part.
"Cole was the first," Gideon said.
"The first what—man?"
"Savior's first and only success with the alien DNA," Gideon said, glancing at the mirror to gauge Cole's reaction. He didn't want to dredge through the past more than necessary, not until he'd tied Cole to Nikki more securely.
