The Knight of Disks (Villainess Book 4)

by Alana Melos

  “Oh my pretty poppet,” the scientist said, her voice cold, dripping with the promise of pain. “Oh, what fun we’re going to have.”

  A wave of psychic force hit us, body and mind. Ger and I threw up our hands in an instinctual gesture of defense, though the hand movements weren’t necessary. In an instant, we had telekinetic and telepathic shields up, warding off the power, deflecting it away. The animal with us had no choice but to bear the brunt as the glass smashed under the insane scientist’s telekinetic force. Glass ripped into its flesh, and spores floated up from the wounds. I wasn’t big on animals, but unlike most psychopaths, I’d never seen the point in torturing animals. Hell, I almost felt sorry for it as it lay dying the corner of its cell.

  A shriek erupted from the heroine in purple as she was literally torn to pieces. But it wasn’t fast. Oh no. I looked over my outstretched hands to watch the limbs being slowly dislocated from the heroine’s body. Flesh stretched and ripped, and each agonizing moment was broadcast loudly from the psychic white hat. The scientist projected as well, hate and rage and a dark pleasure so deep it called to me. I echoed it, wanting to see how long it took for the arm to come off, for each joint to dislocate from the others, to stretch her out and paint the walls red, oh so red.

  The animal whined again, but this time it was a reflection of the scientist… hate and rage and a desire to do harm. She imprinted on it psychically as it lay dying, rewriting its mind to want revenge, to never be caged, breathing mental life into it. When I looked back at the animal, it frothed from the mouth and spores floated gently in the telekinetic breeze, freed by the many wounds the canine had taken. They went up and away, into the ventilation system and eventually, I’d imagine, into the air, a psychic biohazard in the making. Realization hit me hard: just as we saw Rory’s beginning, this was the plant’s beginning. We knew it was intelligent, that it had a mind… this is where that mind came from, through a mad mixture of bioengineering and a psychic accident.

  The room grew dark, and in a heartbeat, Ger and I stood in nothing. “It died,” I said. “It doesn’t remember anything else.”

  A light bloomed, and Gerard put a hand on my arm. “No, it does, wait,” he whispered.

  We waited in the darkness as pinpoints of light fell around us. The spores. The spores carried the nugget of psychic power, the intelligence of the canine with them as they landed and found life in sweet grass. The feeling of being smothered eased and a simple pleasure of being comforted by the embrace of the earth overtook it. It was peaceful. First colder. Then warm. Then colder… and warm once again. The seasons. Time. That was how it measured time. I thought for some reason it would grow weird dogs, but that wasn’t the case. As the plant grew, it took on the characteristics of the plants around it. It had been engineered to change, to adapt to its surroundings. I don’t know what their original experiment was, but it was a success on some level: the plant lived. It grew in parks and yards, even as flowers in someone’s window box on a scummy apartment building side. It didn’t see, and yet it did. That trace of psychic ability accidentally gifted to it let it sense other minds, and yet it remained connected to every trace of itself.

  It was content.

  I’d never felt such contentment before. Nothing I’d ever done or experienced paralleled this sweet soothing nothing mind. Simply growing. A tree here. Flowers there. Grass everywhere. Simply soaking up the sun and the warmth and being. I let out a sigh with it, and Gerard’s grip on my arm turned hard.

  “Careful,” he warned. “Don’t feel it too much. Don’t get lost.”

  “I’m not,” I said, jerking my arm away. “It’s just so peaceful.”

  As those words left my lips, the world shook. My viewpoint from a thousand different areas clashed together. The sky went dark, yet was shining brightly at the same time. The earth shook, but was still. The many collective points of view from the plant, which had spread throughout the area, clashed together. The views made sense to it, but not to me. I hadn’t the capacity to process everything at once, so I focused instead on the earth shaking. I heard some a loud grinding of metal, then everything tipped to the side wobbling, then to the other. People screamed. Fire blasted around me. It spread quickly, and burned with intensity. Roaring heat washed over me, setting parts of me on fire. It was like being engulfed in the fires of hell; the pain only got more intense as the flames wouldn’t go out.

  The world tipped again, and a sinking feeling emerged, coming up from my stomach to my mouth, making everything topsy-turvy. Sky rushed past me. The ground came up. When I blinked, my perspective changed. I had to change it. Nothing could survive this torturous hell. The shadow grew and I saw the disc which supported Uptown fall out of the sky. The majority of the plant seemed to be up there, but it had spread through Downtown as well, Old New York. There was nothing the plant, or anyone, could do. It had been torched, and the great cable underneath the platform severed. The cable had landed already, smashing buildings as it snaked down to the ground, but the platform… that was tipping and falling, looking to crash down upon the middle of Downtown.

  To the heroes’ credit, they managed to push it almost all the way out of the city. Almost. Instead of a big crater in the middle of Manhattan, they tipped it and pushed with whatever power they had available to them so that it only decimated the borough of Queens (half of it, anyway) and the outlying suburbs. Less people lived there, and it had been too far to push it anywhere else. It didn’t stop people from blaming the heroes for destroying their homes, their city, and their families. I always laughed when I thought about it; they always blamed the heroes for not saving them, and never the villains who had cut it down.

  Witnessing it first hand from both the falling platform and the ground upon which it crashed stunned me. Gerard stood beside me in stony silence, one of his eyebrows twitching. When Uptown crashed, it thundered through the entire city, the entire area. Half of the platform flattened as it disintegrated part of the ground, making a crater where the remnants of Uptown eventually came to rest. People died in the thousands, the tens of thousands. Homes were destroyed. Everything on the platform was lost, gone. Only parts and hollow shells of buildings remained, and most of those were on the verge of collapsing, as we had just seen in the forest. There hadn’t been many survivors.

  For the plant? It was a nightmare. Parts of it burnt. Parts of it were broken or crushed. It didn’t matter if it was on the ground or the floating platform, it hurt. Everywhere in the network of psychic energy, it hurt. No one seemed to hear it or care. It hurt silently as rescue crews and heroes alike dug through the dirt and debris, searching for survivors. That hate which had lain dormant for so long bloomed into life… and suddenly we were jolted back into the cell with the sickly looking dog again as the memory reset and repeated itself.

  “I’d be pissed too,” I muttered.

  Gerard stroked his chin thoughtfully, watching the psychic fight all over again. “It seems… it’s not a hive mind,” he said. “It’s not many minds in one, it’s a single creature, scattered across miles.”

  “How is that even possible?” I asked, then threw up the mental and physical shields as it had gotten to that part of the memory where the backlash killed the dog. “It’s like whatever experiment they were running with this--” I waved at the crazy doctor, “--psychic damage gave it sentience?”

  “Maybe,” he said, looking around as things grew dark around us. “I have a theory.”

  “It could be bunnies?” I asked, quipping the line from somewhere rattling around in my brain.

  My partner gave me a strange look, arching one brow first then the other, then shook his head. “No, the dog,” he replied. “Dogs aren’t the smartest things in the world, but they’re not stupid either. If it was genetically modified--which it had to be, considering the surroundings--and then augmented psychically… I think I might know why it took the fr… the werewolf, and where the core of it is hiding.”

  “Well, let’s go,” I said, gesturi
ng impatiently to the glowing dots of spores around us.

  “We need to wait for the crash.” He reached over and took my hand in his. “Follow me closely. We don’t want to get separated here.”

  “Roger dodger.” I gave him a jaunty salute with my freehand off my left brow.

  Gerard gave me another look, his face a mask. I stared back at him, waiting for him to say something like a wise old mentor was supposed to, but he just stared as he waited. When the platform crashed again around us, he jerked me forward and down. The pull swept me along behind him, and the scene changed as he dove, going further down. Suffocation came upon me again, and a pressing need to get free, to kick and swim and claw my way to the surface of something… somewhere else. It pressed down on me, but Gerard’s hand kept me grounded. I held onto his hand like a lifeline, letting the realness of it and him be my anchor, my rock.

  We emerged in another cave, falling from the ceiling… er, floor. We fell through the floor then righted ourselves in the middle, floating there for a moment before descending gently to the ground. I let go of Ger’s hand and knocked the side of my head, “Topsy-turvy, all muddled,” I muttered, still trying to right the situation in my head, adjust to my new surroundings.

  “You should leave,” Gerard said, the words coming out in a rush. “I don’t think it’s smart for you to be here.”

  “I’m staying,” I replied, giving him a dark look. “I promised.”

  “And since when did a promise mean anything to you, Reece?” he sneered. “Get out. I’ll do this.”

  “Bullshit you will,” I snapped. “You’ll wait for a bit, then get out and say it’s impossible!” As I glared at him, I took a step forward, mentally daring him to try something, anything.

  “You’re inexperienced,” he said, meeting my gaze. “Go back, Reece. I’ll do this.”

  That only raised my hackles. No one told me what to do. I gestured and lifted him up telekinetically, then slammed him against the nearest cave wall. “Did you want to play with me, Gerard?” I asked him. “Right here? Right now?” I stalked towards him, surrounded by my anger in a cloud. “You do what I tell you,” I said. “It’s not the other way around. Unless you want to play with me, which I would love to play with you.” A brief shot of pain shot through the left side of my face, and I touched my eyebrow with my fingertips swiftly, willing it away. When it subsided, I saw him staring at me, his mouth set neutrally but his eyes had widened.

  Before I processed that, he shook his head. “You’re the boss,” he said, and gestured around with a hand.

  I let him down. I knew he was angry. I didn’t have to see it or feel it. I knew him well enough to just know how he’d react to a naked threat. Then, of course, he did something I didn’t expect. When he approached, I thought he’d try to exert his dominance, but instead he lifted a hand and brushed my porcelain cheek. He glanced at his fingertips, then wiped them on his BDU trousers.

  “Then let’s do it,” he said. “But you still need to follow my lead.”

  I nodded to show him I agreed, and kept a wary eye on him. He drew in a deep breath and looked around at our surroundings. I took the opportunity to do the same. It was familiar and unfamiliar to me at the same time. We stood in a cave, which had been the ruins of a building. Though there was no light, we had no trouble seeing at all. Vines, branches, grass, and any other sort of plant life you could possibly imagine lived here, growing and writhing and moving about. It felt like the forest had: thick and oppressive. Yet, that wasn’t the only feeling here I recognized. A mental scent, a feel of something sentient, of a mind in pain… those drove my feet forward.

  Gerard followed me as I felt my way along. The plants moved all around us, wrapping around our feet. I gestured them away with my teke while Gerard used his reformed imaginary machete to cut them. The defenses weren’t as thick here as I thought they would be. It almost seemed a token defense, just something put up to make us stumble, not fall. Anger burned through me, hot and clear. I still couldn’t believe Gerard would defy me so. The simmering rage kept me focused and clear as I hunted down the only other mind which could have been here: Rory.

  As we moved, we squeezed through a tunnel and came out into a room looking much like the laboratory we’d found his real body in. It was smaller though, and more organized. Instead of haphazard broken bits of furniture and equipment, it stood in place whole, just covered with green. Green, green everywhere and not a drop to drink. I laughed and sensed Gerard shooting me another look behind my back.

  “It’s funny,” I said by way of explanation.

  “A real laugh riot,” he replied, his tone dark as his mood.

  Opposite us hung Rory, the human Rory not the wolf one. I sighed as I wanted to see my green wolf so, but this would do. The wolf hid in his skin after all. It was up to us to bring him out of his wooded nightmare. Vines and branches kept him in place, both holding his limbs down and piercing them. He was impaled a number of times, but there was some hope here: his skin wasn’t green, nor were his staring eyes. He looked like the Rory I knew, just trapped.

  “This feels like my wolf,” I muttered, then turned around to address my partner. “This feels like him.”

  “He’s not really there,” Gerard said, gesturing. “He’s fading in and out.”

  I turned to see what he was talking about, and saw he spoke true. As we watched, his body flickered. The vines holding him moved as he did, seeming to swell as if they were feeding from him. “I see what Adira meant that he was fading,” I said. “I think even a day later and he’d be gone.”

  “Alright, now, here’s where we want to be really careful,” Gerard said softly, as if not to spook the plants surrounding us. “This is the plant’s core psyche, its core self. It’s destroying your friend’s core self. We need to separate him from the plant, and then pull him to the forefront, and push the plant in his subconscious.”

  “Can’t we get rid of the plant?” I asked.

  Gerard shook his head. “I don’t think so. Whatever changes are happening to him, it’s on a genetic level. I think the spores they created in the lab were made to adapt to any environment, to blend in, take it over. It’s changing to adapt to him. With the magic that makes werewolves…” Gerard trailed off and shook his head. “We might be able to excise the foreign material from him, but not here. We just want to put him in charge.”

  “How do we do that then?”

  “Again, everything’s both literal and symbolic here,” he replied. “Cut the vines, heal him up, bring him to the surface. The problem is that if we’re cutting the plant, we’re not just cutting psychic defenses here, we’re actually destroying part of the plant’s psyche. It’s not going to like that very much.”

  “It can’t be that smart so it can’t be that powerful,” I pointed out. “Even with a boost, it just can’t be, can it?”

  “Have you ever tried changing an idiot’s mind?” Gerard asked, smirking at me. “It might not be smart, but it’s big. There’s a lot of it.”

  “But the room’s so small,” I said as I looked around.

  “We’re going to try untangling it first,” Gerard replied, ignoring my observation. “Don’t hurt it. Just unwind the vines from around him, alright?”

  “Roger, over and out,” I muttered, moving forward.

  We picked our way carefully through the small room. I pushed green matter away from me, keeping my territorial bubble intact as we bridged the distance. When we stood before Rory, he raised his head, a long look upon his long face. “I remember you,” he whispered, Irish accent and all. I smiled at the sound of it.

  “We’re friends, Wolf,” I said as I laid a hand upon his bare chest. The weird lines and spirals were there in his mind too, in tattoo form instead of dark fur. He looked like some Celtic warrior. “I’m going to bring you home.”

  “Home,” he breathed as if tasting the word. “I’ve forgotten what that was.”

  I sent him images of the pack’s lair and Imperial City in
general as Gerard and I picked among the vines carefully. I wanted to rip them out of him, but I followed Ger’s lead and moved them away. It wasn’t easy. Every time we unwound a limb or untied a vine, another took its place.

  “I don’t remember that place very well,” Rory said, his voice weak. “I thought… I thought… my home was… something green, with hills.” He closed his eyes as he strove to clear his mind. “That city is my home?”

  “Yes.” I kept prying branches away from him. Once I got a bit of flesh cleared, I imagined a shield around the opening, trying to prevent any new shoots from grabbing him. “Imperial City. It’s where we live. I brought you there from Axis.”

  He shuddered at the word ‘Axis’. “Darkness there,” he rasped. “Why did you call me Wolf?”

  “Because you are a wolf,” I replied. “A werewolf, I mean. Just a nickname, I guess.”

  He nodded behind Gerard and I. “But that’s the wolf.”

  Turning, I gaped at the sight of a huge wooden werewolf, looking much like Rory did when he shapeshifted, except made out of wood. Leaves covered the beast, and its talons and teeth were carved from some black bark. It roared at us, and swung its massive hand down, intent on wiping us out. Gerard rolled one way and I the other. It towered over us, somehow fitting in the small room though it must have been twenty feet tall, at least. The incongruity ate at my mind, just one more piece which didn’t fit.

  The tree wolf swung again. I moved, but not fast enough. Its claws raked across my back, sending white hot blinding pain through my body. The pain didn’t stay localized, but spread through my entire being, leaving a rough ache behind. When it swung again, instead of dodging I raised a telekinetic shield. The dark claws bounced off of it, but the force made me slide back. I tripped over a thick branch behind me and fell to the ground, landing right on my tailbone.

  Sensing victory at hand, the wolf’s mouth curled into a cruel smile. It pressed down on my shield, which suddenly seemed thick and clear like glass. Cracks developed in the shield. Just when I thought it was about to break, the wolf erupted in fire. It backed off and howled in thwarted rage and pain.