The couch broke against Lindsay’s arms as she brought them up to cover her face. With superhuman speed, she grabbed a broken two-by-four left from the shattered pieces and flung it like a small javelin at Allen. He caught it, the friction warming his impervious skin. The force nearly pulled him back, but he steeled himself, then took off so fast it left spider cracks in the marble floor. Lindsay dashed forward in the air at speeds that produced a sonic wave that shattered the glassware at the bar. She went in for a right cross, which cracked Allen’s cheekbone and drew blood that spilled from his nose and mouth. It left her open for his attack, a powerful kick to the side. A crippling pain spread through her lower back, and she doubled over, bile rising in her mouth. Allen followed through with a swift kick to her face, but she glanced up just in time. She caught his leg in a vice grip, gathered her wits out of sheer determination, and launched a counter attack. She spun and flung him bodily at the floor.
Allen picked himself up unsteadily and glanced over his shoulder in time to see Lindsay dash in for a body slam. He jumped to the side, then twisted, taking a boxer’s stance with his hands protecting his face. As she recovered, she was met with Allen’s fist when he jabbed it at her. She dodged once, twice, three times before she blocked it and offered a counter-jab of her own. He twisted, letting her fist skid across his face without doing much damage. He missed her follow-through. Her left fist connected with the bottom of his jaw, and he rocketed into the air, smashed into the ceiling, and regained control before slamming his right food, left knee, and a single fist into the floor amid a hail of tiles and plaster. He left the debris as a trail in his wake as he darted back into close combat. His face throbbed. Lindsay was fast, but Allen was tougher. He wasn’t even close to being out of this fight.
* * * *
“Quite the entertainment you have tonight,” Tom’s guest remarked.
Tom grunted. His opportunistic streak didn’t come built with snappy comebacks. “You got the money?”
The man smirked. “Down to business, then.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a few taps on the screen, he set up a money transfer. His thumb hovered over the button that would complete it. “Let’s see it first, hm?”
Tom’s expression didn’t budge as he slid his fist, palm down, across the bar, leaving the small, subtle device behind. “Does it work?” The man asked, “or is that the reason for this impressive display going on here?” His head twitched in the direction of the squabbling teens. “After all, I’d imagine Solstice would like to know what they’re buying. You planning on nullifying one of those kids’ powers? Do that and the victor’s fist will go through the other’s head.” A twisted lust for violence glinted in the man’s eyes.
“Uh. Sure,” Tom grunted. “You gotta get close, though. It has a short range.”
The corner of the man’s mouth twitched. “So, who’s gonna bell that cat?” he drawled, glancing over. “I didn’t even see that flurry of punches, dunno about you.”
Tom shifted in his seat. He had no idea how to answer that.
“This weapon is all about subtlety.” Tom nearly hit the cracking roof at the sound of Lyndria’s voice. His stern face nearly cracked. She slipped delicate fingers across the man’s bony shoulder, trailed them up the turtleneck, then teased at the edge of his ear. “The right tool for the right job.” A smile crossed her full lips. “Right?”
Tom gaped at her. For the first time in years, he felt his heart race with a foreign emotion that felt a lot like fear. Not the combat adrenalin rush, but the nauseating realization that you done fucked up and you were going to die like a coward for a stupid mistake. She smiled at him over top the man’s head. Did he imagine the gears clicking into place that spelled his unceremonious end?
“Thanks for getting this meeting started,” she told him. “I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.” She turned her charm on the Solstice contact. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Lyndria Wilson. I own that device. Tom has my authority to enact this business transaction. Don’t worry your very pretty little head about that.” Her fingers danced across his blond hair beneath his fedora.
“Then let me pose this question to you,” he said, shifting away from her touch. “Does the device work?” Tom wished that distancing himself would be that easy. Should he run? Perhaps he’d underestimated Lyndria’s ability to keep her family under control. Would she kill him for his betrayal?
Fear kept him glued to his seat, though all of his fighter’s instinct told him to run and never look back. No! If you run, you will be running for the rest of your life. With any luck, you can talk your way out of this. If that doesn’t work, you can always make the choice to take off again. He swallowed.
Lyndria smiled. “You want to see a display? I can arrange that. One of those fighters is my bodyguard. I’ve grown quite fond of her, and I do believe the feeling is mutual. I could go over there and tell them to stop fighting. She will listen to me. I can walk over there and shake the hand of her opponent, and his powers will instantly vanish.”
The man smirked, raising his eyebrow. “If you claim to exercise such control over your subordinates, why are you letting them trash this establishment? I hear you’re having cash flow issues. Why risk thousands upon thousands of damage? Not even using this fight to convince me to buy the device would be worth it.”
“Because this fight is amusing. I’m quite in suspense. I want to see if my bodyguard will actually win against an opponent like this. Besides, a trashed establishment doesn’t concern me. I imagine I’m not going to be able to make a lot of money off of this place after tonight. You see, there’s going to be a murder.”
Tom’s heart leaped into his throat. Run! She is going to kill you!
The man chuckled. “I thought you said your man had your authorization.”
“Oh, his isn’t the murder I’m talking about. You see, I just said that to keep the conversation going between you and I. Subtlety really is the best weapon sometimes. I was stalling while the poison I brushed on your skin soaked into your system.”
The man’s eyes went wide. His skin paled, and he clutched at his throat, suddenly unable to breathe. Lyndria smiled. “Like I said…right tool for the right job.”
The man jerked up off his seat, then collapsed, twice gave a full-bodied twitch, then stiffened, eyes glassy with death’s onset.
Lyndria’s gaze turned to Tom. Disappointment clouded her pouty face. “Oh, honey.”
* * * *
Allen held himself in a defensive position as Lindsay sped around him. Few could keep track of her as she moved faster than the eye could see, but the ability to process such movement came hand in hand with Allen’s own super speed. She was slowing down. This fight was starting to wear on her. She was trying to use her speed to randomize the angle of attack, but that was becoming increasingly less likely. The tactic would have worked on just about anyone else, and even Allen had already taken a beating. He couldn’t see out of one eye, each breath pained him, and the match had turned into an aerial battle because he could no longer put weight on either of his legs. However, Allen may have lacked full vision, the superior speed, and the three years of training that Lindsay had, but there was something else Allen didn’t have.
He had no intention of giving up.
Allen could tell she was tiring, and patience was winning him this round. He watched closely. At the right moment, he stepped to the side, twisted, and jabbed his fist. Lindsay ran right into it. She flipped end over end, finally spilling onto a pile of broken tables. “Are you done yet?” Allen called.
She snarled at him. The dust spun into a whirling dervish as she sprung into the air after him, but the attack was lacking in conviction. Allen clamped his fists together and bashed them against her head. Lindsay hit the ground so hard it cratered. She staggered to her feet.
“Just stay down, Lindsay. Please.” Allen touched down beside her, then remembered his fractured ankle and floated just a few inches. “It’s over.”
She snarled at him, but she was too exhausted to argue. She sank to her knees.
“I don’t want to fight, Lindsay. I just want you to see what Stryker was really trying to tell us. There’s gotta be a reason to fight. You’re faster than me, you’ve been trained to fight longer, by all rights you’re the better fighter…but you’ve let go of what you’re fighting for.” He floated down and knelt gingerly. The adrenalin was wearing off, and his whole body ached. He extended his hand. “Will you let me help you find it again?”
“I believe you’ve made your point, Mr. Gray.”
Allen nearly toppled over in his haste to turn around. Samantha Clive stood at the doorway, now three times its size after a counter top had been thrown through it. She was the picture of poise, unsullied by the seedy filth of the destroyed bar. The raunchy music stopped, as if quailed by her arrival. Silence followed. Even the dust didn’t dare stir in her presence.
Allen gaped at her. Lindsay spoke first. “I thought you couldn’t be here! I-I mean, I thought Delta—”
“Until just a few minutes ago, Delta did not have jurisdiction in Quebec, it’s true. However, the authorities felt they were unequipped to deal with conflicts such as two super powered teenagers coming to blows in a downtown bar.” Her mouth tipped in a smile. “My thanks for your service, you two. You have been instrumental in bringing this country into our little family. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Something about that didn’t sit well with Allen. He glanced around for Donald and Liam; both had vanished. Donald seemed like an anarchist, and he didn’t think he’d be affected one way or another by this new development. Liam, on the other hand, had moved a full country away from his family for the sake of freedom. “The way Delta forces kids into fighting their battles makes me throw up in my mouth a little.” The fire controller’s words rang in his ears.
Allen couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just been used.