Generation 18 (Spook Squad 2)

Why? That was the question that needed to be answered, but she wasn’t going to risk asking Orrin. The less the giant knew about her—or rather, her appalling lack of knowledge about her past and her skills—the better. “If you know they’re there, you must know that you’re never going to escape.”

“They don’t hold enough firepower to stop me.”

“One laser set to the maximum is enough to stop you, Orrin.”

“But I am one with the night. They can’t see me. Only you can.”

A point she’d mulled over not so long ago. “This is the SIU we’re talking about here. You think they don’t have weapons to bring down rat bait like you?”

He snarled—a sound that crawled across her skin, sending shivers up her spine. It was a malignant, angry noise.

“Then I’ll just have to use you as a shield before I kill you.”

“Not something I’m planning to let happen, I can tell you.”

“Who said anythin’ about choice?”

He rushed her again. Air surged from her left—a fist, looking for a target. She ducked and then swung the bar. Felt it caught in some gigantic vice before it was ripped from her hand.

She turned and ran. He didn’t follow. Playing with his prey, enjoying the hunt, she thought.

She stopped at the far end of the room, her breath coming in short gasps that tore at her throat. From fear, more than exertion.

He flung the bar to one side. It hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent and clattered to the floor halfway between herself and Orrin.

“Come get your toothpick, girlie.”

Said the spider to the fly. “No, thanks. I’m comfortable right where I am.”

He sighed. “You really aren’t playing the game right, you know.”

She flexed her fingers, trying to ease the tension knotting her limbs. Energy tingled across her fingertips, firefly bright in the darkness. Maybe she really didn’t need the bar. Maybe she had a weapon primed and ready to go.

If only she could figure out how to use it without getting too close to Orrin.

“Fire won’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re planning with that lighter.”

He’d seen the brief dance of flames across her fingers, obviously. Overhead, thunder rumbled. The storm was close, so close. She could feel the vibrations of it shuddering through her soul.

Orrin swept toward her again. She ducked away, but this time he was ready for it. His fist connected against her chin and sent her flying. She hit the concrete with a grunt, the air leaving her lungs in a whoosh. For a moment, stars fizzed across her vision.

Then she felt the wind of Orrin’s approach. She scrambled upright and staggered away. He stopped.

“I haven’t had a good fight in ages,” he said, almost wistfully. “Perhaps I’ll kill you fast at the end, just to show my appreciation.”

“Gee, thanks.” She gingerly touched her chin. Blood dripped from a cut a good two inches long. Orrin had to be wearing a ring of some kind.

“You’re welcome, little girl.”

Obviously he’d missed the sarcasm in her voice. Thunder rumbled across the night again. Every nerve ending seemed to respond to the call of the storm. Power tingled through her body, a wildness that burned at her fingertips, aching for release.

She clenched her hands and watched the stain that was Orrin. Again the air stirred. This time she didn’t move, but simply stood watching and waiting. His evil rolled over her, a black wave of darkness that made her shudder in revulsion. His steps drew close.

At the last possible moment, she ducked. The wind of his punch stirred her hair. She reached up and grabbed his arm. Fire leapt from fingers—jagged pieces of lightning that raced up his arm and across his body.

She could see him, she realized. See the sudden flash of terror in his eyes.

He screamed as the force of her power flung him across the room. Then the lightning died, and weakness washed through her. Her legs collapsed from beneath her, and suddenly she was kneeling on cold concrete, gasping for breath, her whole body trembling with exhaustion. Whatever the power was, it had limitations—physical limitations. The force was a hell of a lot stronger than she ever could be.