Balanced Chaos (The Void Series Book 3) Page 14
“Ready to move?” Werner asked when Sam didn’t immediately rise.
“I want to see them go for the lunch box,” she said.
“I think one of us should get in place to stop them, in case they move to leave quickly.”
“Good thought. Get in place to block their exit. I’ll join you once I’ve seen them go for the drop point.”
Werner nodded and left. A moment later, Sam spotted Werner emerging from the paper mill and finding his own hiding place. The men in question took their precious time sauntering to the end of the dock. One laid down on the rocking surface of the dock and reached underneath it, groping for the plastic container Joe had mentioned.
Sam climbed to her feet. She had seen enough. She turned, stopping in her tracks.
An enormous brute, barely looking humanoid, stood in her way, huffing and puffing as it glared at her, steam blowing from its nostrils like a great bull. Bulging muscles rippled as it squeezed its fists and adjusted its feet.
Sam suddenly realized she wasn’t the only half fae in the Res to be born looking less than human, but compared to this animal, she had gotten off easy with her white eyes and hair.
How did they manage to hide this freak from the feds? she wondered.
With the ease of recent use, Sam released her gift, allowing it to snake into the beast. A shiver ran up her spine.
All mystics were different—their powers coming to her, filling her with a different sensation. Roman’s powers always felt like feathers caressing her skin in an almost erotic sense. Other powers filled Sam with a hyperactive need to move. Some made her feel as though she were full of bubbles, all about to pop. This beast was empty, like her.
It wasn’t just that he had no fae power of its own, it had nothing at all. Dare she think, there’s nothing there—no soul! Inside, she felt nothing but darkness. Sam wondered if the large hulk even possessed a brain.
The beast grunted and stomped forward. Sam felt her eyes grow wide. She pushed her gift past its bulk, searching for other mystics. Whatever the enormous fae was, it couldn’t possibly be there alone. Sam doubted an empty mass like that would one day wake up and decide to come after her.
She felt the distant powers of other faes and what might have been a mage, but they were too far away for her to take from. Sam’s heart rate climbed until she thought it might race up her throat and out through her mouth.
Sam took a slight step backwards, her heel bumping into Werner’s bucket. Werner!
She needed to alert the corporal to her predicament. She couldn’t fight the beast herself. It had no power for her take, and without mystical powers to take, she was nothing more than a frightened girl.
The slight noise of the bucket shifting brought life into the beast’s eyes as it narrowed its gaze on her, its four-fingered, calloused hands rolling into fists. In a split second, the goliath went from inert to charging. Sam bolted to her left, weaving into the enormous machinery used to transform wood pulp into fine rolls of paper.
Even without touching the machines, Sam felt the drain from the iron in them. Like the old docks, the paper mill was one of the many industries only employed by vampires, werewolves, and mages.
Sam pushed herself, ignoring the pain and exhaustion as the iron leached her strength—both physical and magical. She glanced over her shoulder, noting the wide shoulders of the other fae barely missing the larger cisterns of the equipment. Ignoring her own risks, Sam began to weave, her own shoulders grazing the wider portions of the equipment. Her leather jacket protected her from the worst of the iron’s power, but even with its protection she could feel her shoulders burning each time she touched the iron.
At the first turn, she caught sight of the giant following her path step for step, its wider frame bashing into enormous metal pipes and reservoirs. The smell of burning, rotted flesh filled the air. As Sam rounded the corner, winding into a narrower section of machinery, she spotted a large swath of canvas draped over a decommissioned unit. Sam raced to it, grabbing the corner of the canvas as she passed. She continued at top speed, running straight at the next batch of thick, intertwined pipes. Halfway there, the long canvas went taut, jerking her right off her feet.
Sam went down hard, banging her head against the hard plank flooring.
“Shit.”
Blinking the dust from her eyes, she scrambled to her feet and gave the canvas another yank. It fluttered to the floor as though it had never been caught before, just as the lumbering hulk stumbled around the corner of the machinery. It paused, breathing heavily, steam rising from its wide nostrils. Large burn marks ran down its arms where it had bumped into the pipes.
It grunted at her, stomping its right foot like a toddler who had been told it was nap time. Annoyed with her own weakness, Sam flipped it the bird and ran for cover. As she neared the tangle of pipes, Sam wrapped the canvas around her body, nearly tripping over her own feet. She dove under the first pipe, dodged the second, and tripped over the third. After that she lost track of where the pipes were as she crawled forward, doing her best to keep the canvas between her body and the iron pipping. All the same, her hands and face were burned time and again.
From behind her, she heard a guttural cry of pain as the beast tried to claw its way toward her, tearing at the pipes with its bare hands.
Sam finally reached a gap in the tangle of pipes where she could squat on the floor, untouched by the metal, yet still protected by the metal. She glanced around, trying to figure out what she could do next. She needed to alert Werner.
Where is he? she wondered. Hasn’t he noticed I haven’t come down yet?
The beast continued to claw at the piping, finally tearing the first one away from the labyrinth. Even with the damage he was taking, Sam realized it was only a matter of time before he reached her.
Sam suddenly felt her gift clobbering against her boundaries, vaguely aware that it had been seeking freedom all along. She released it, though she knew the other fae were too far away for her to gain power from them. To her amazement, the other fae were creeping toward the fray.
She focused in on them, examining each one carefully. There was a fire wielder of some sort, something she couldn’t identify, a lightning wielder, a healer, and, as she suspected—a mage. Despite knowing what they were, she still couldn’t take from them.
Sam gasped as a sudden influx of power worked its way toward the beast, raging just beyond her hiding place. It was the healer, working to keep their guard dog in top working order. Sam felt her own panic build.
If they heal it, it could really get to me.
Sam closed her eyes, focusing on the power flowing into the half fae. She grappled with her gift, forcing it under her control again. With the influence of her own focus, she trained her power onto the healing forces as it flowed between the healer and the beast, trying to steal it while en route.
Her gift wrapped around the power, trying to yank it away from its path, but it slipped off. Sam grimaced, feeling as though she was trying to wrangle a toddler into its pajamas while floating in a kiddy pool of oysters when the toddler just wanted to play hide-and-seek with a puppy. The toddler was decidedly winning.
The healer’s power slid and squirmed out of her gift’s clutches. Without the structure of a mystic’s body, the mystical power lost all cohesiveness. Her gift couldn’t get a firm grip on the power. Instead, it ran through her proverbial fingers like limp spaghetti or uncooked shell fish. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t get her magical fingers around it.
“This isn’t working,” Sam muttered to herself after a minute or two of trying.
She looked up at the enormous beast to find that its hands were healing nearly as fast as they were burning while it tried to tear through her makeshift cage. A small, tired smile pulled on her lips. The healer, however powerful, couldn’t keep it up for long. The fae was pouring everything they had into the beast. Before long, they would be tapped out and the beast would be on its own again.
Sam
went back to scanning the powers, hoping one had slipped into her field of range. Annoyingly, they were staying just outside her range, unaware that it was shrinking as she grew weaker inside her self-created iron prison. Sam slowly pulled the canvas up over her head before leaning it back against an iron pipe. Her joints began to ache as the poison seeped inside her body. If she was hurting this badly, she could only imagine what the beast was feeling as it wrenched another pipe from its berth, hot steam bursting into its battered face.
It bellowed, throwing its head back and stumbling a few steps. The poor animal slapped at the fresh steam burns as it fell forward, as though a new, fresh wave of hatred filled its heart, driving it to barrel toward her. It clobbered into the pipes, searing its flesh in multiple locations, before its brain cleared enough to begin working on individual pipes. It grabbed one, heaving with all its might. The pipe refused to budge and the beast adjusted its grip, leaving behind a layer of skin.
Sam winced, her own heart aching for the animal. She had no doubt that it was not seeking to destroy her on its own free will. Whether someone was controlling it or it was so completely unintelligent that it sought to destroy anyone unlucky enough to be in its path, Sam felt sorry for the poor creature. It did not belong in this war and, truth be told, she suspected it was being controlled by the fae she could not identify or by the mage.
The beast switched to kicking the enormous pipe, and on the third kick managed to break through it, sending a wash of wood chips flowing over its feet and into her cramped quarters—leaving only three smaller pipes protecting her.
Sam waited until the last minute before flipping onto her stomach and crawling under the labyrinth of pipes. As she scooted forward, the lowest pipe caught against her neck in an unguarded moment, searing the unprotected flesh. She screamed, enraging the beast. It bashed through the last pipe and caught hold of her foot, dragging her back into her small cage. Sam kicked with the little strength she had left, but the creature looked at her foot as though it had been a fly.
It adjusted its grip to her calf, its calloused claw touching her bare skin, and then it happened—Sam felt the power of the other fae flowing through the beast. Images of the beast dragging her free of the pipes and banging her against the floor, much like a child might do with a rag doll, filled her mind through the beast. They were what could happen a few minutes in the future—what the beast wanted to do with her if it could just get her free from the pipes.
Sam panicked, flailing within the pipes until her own body was almost as battered and burned as the animal. It had nearly pulled her free before logic came back to her. If she could feel the power, she could take it. She released her gift and it grabbed the foreign power, yanking it into her tank with all its might. It came unwillingly, a tiny dribble. It wasn’t enough to do anything worthwhile.
At the same moment, the beast dragged her into the walkway between the labyrinth of pipes and other machinery. Sam twisted, quirking her leg in a way it wasn’t meant to bend. She ignored the pain, knowing if she didn’t the beast would whack her against the floor. She distorted her body until she could wrap her arms and other leg around the beast’s thick bicep.
The beast looked at her with confusion and shook its arm as though it had a loose hair on its sleeve. It let out a frustrated growl and tripped over one of the pipes it had previously thrown aside, sending them both into a large cistern.
More metal seared the side of Sam’s face, but she kept her focus, slowly stealing the power that filtered into the beast. As she did, the beast continued to work to get her off its arm, but not as though it wanted to kill her like before.
Sam took a risk and let go. The beast did likewise, taking a few steps backwards, once again tripping over a pipe and taking out another piece of machinery. The badly burned animal collapsed, lying in the machinery with its eyes closed.
Sam ran to its side, jumping over the various pipes. She touched its outstretched leg and once again felt the power flowing into it, willing it to kill her. She opened her gift, stealing the power before it could drive the poor beast into pushing its body into moving again.
She wanted to drag it off the deadly iron, but she wasn’t strong enough.
As her tank slowly filled with the strange fae’s power, she began to send out the image of her enemies coming toward her. It was a simple image and she hoped it didn’t drain her tank too fast, even though she was projecting it to multiple targets.
Sam smirked. Then again, I could be doing this completely wrong.
Sam had never battled a fae like this. She had no idea how their powers worked. Compulsion was not something encouraged among the fae… but then again, Sam was realizing there were a lot of fae powers “not encouraged” that they chose to use when dealing with her. Their standards were doubled whenever it was convenient.
As she continued to project the image of her enemies walking toward her and the beast, she scanned for their powers. A smile spread across the uninjured side of her face.
It was working.
“Now what?” Sam whispered, wondering which powerful enemy she should steal from. “Getting them all closer just might be a mistake.”
On an impulse, Sam sent her gift after the fire wielder, while still keeping a portion of it trained on the strange compulsion fae. She gave the fire fae a great jerk, quickly giving her the ability to start a few fires—literally. She lit the floor on fire around the mage and lightning fae before she ran out of power.
“That should keep them busy,” she told the unconscious beast.
Her gift continued to drain the fire fae and the compulsionist—through the beast—when the compulsionist suddenly gave up on the beast, cutting her off.
“Dammit,” she muttered, letting go of the beast’s leg.
Her enemies turned tail and ran, quickly putting themselves outside her range. Sam moved to the window just as a fire erupted in the nearby pile of wood chips, billowing enormous volumes of smoke.
Sam picked up the nearest pipe, burning her hands as she did, and smashed it against the window. The glass burst, giving the smoke somewhere to go. As the glass shattered and a gust of fresh air entered the room, the fire grew with unusual speed.
“Maybe that was a mistake, too,” Sam muttered as she began to cough.
She ran to the door just as Werner appeared, a damp cloth tied over his mouth. Without a word, he whipped a matching damp cloth out of his pocket and covered her mouth and nose.
“Breathe through this,” he ordered as he wrapped an arm over her shoulder and guided her out of the room.
As they ran, Sam felt the powers of the healer. She released her gift and it drained the weakened healer in one gulp, consuming the fae to the brink of death. The fae collapsed wherever it was. Sam directed the power to her own wounds as she ignored the guilt plaguing her conscious.
As they ran down the hall, a fresh fire erupted over their heads, quickly burning through the wooden slats of the flooring. They increased their speed as the next story up collapsed behind them under the weight of yet more machinery.
“I’ve never seen a fire spread like this,” Werner said as they turned toward the stairs.
“There’s a fire fae building it. I can’t pin him down to steal his power.”
She was trying, but most of her focus was on the heat of the floor soaking through the soles of her boots. They tore down the stairs and turned into the last hallway. The doors to the outside were in sight when the floor of the second story began to creak. Sam had eyes only for the distant doors, but Werner was more prepared.
In a sudden act of violence, he threw her against the wall and flung himself over her prone body. The second-story support beam collapsed just above him, propped up by the stairs, along with a layer of floorboards, surrounding them in a fiery cave. Fire licked the beam, mere inches from Werner’s Kevlar vest. Sam could smell the singe of his hair burning from his head. She looked into his eyes, aware that they were trapped and he would be burned alive first.
Werner began to groan as the smell of burning flesh filled Sam’s nostrils, throwing her concentration. Sam closed her eyes, willing herself not to hear his pain. She adjusted her gift until it was just right and gave an enormous jerk. The fire fae collapsed in death and she pushed the surrounding fire away.
A gust of cooler air enveloped them, and Sam and Werner gasped in unison.
Chapter Sixteen
Sam heard the noise of their efforts before anything else. She had drifted to sleep in Philip’s arms after a while. He drifted in and out of consciousness. More than once she wished she had held back some of the healer’s stolen power for him.
You never could have guessed Werner would get so badly hurt, she told herself for the hundredth time as she listened to the distant sound of rubble shifting. Besides, you don’t know how to use it on a human.
At first she thought it was just the building settling, as it had done before, frightening her until her heart hammered against her ribs. But this noise was different. There was a steady rhythm to the sound, unlike the stop and start of the burnt-out building settling. Still, the efforts of the workers occasionally caused a beam to shift or a section of wall to collapse near them, sending Sam into a panic. She willed herself to calm down. Each time she panicked, Werner stirred, trying to rouse himself to come to her aid.
Sam knew he was in agony from the scorching he took to save her. He was better off unconscious. She had to stay calm for his sake.
Sam tried not to think about Werner, or his selfless act, but it deserved thinking about, even if it resulted in her own guilt. Sam squeezed her eyes shut as she considered just how much of an ass she had been to him. She had doubted him, doubted his friendship, and he had not only jumped in front of the proverbial speeding train, but he had stayed in front of as it slowly boiled the back of his head and who knows what else. Werner had chosen moment after moment to allow himself to be burned in order to protect her on the off chance that she might get saved before his body was consumed by the fire. He had shielded her as best he could, and she didn’t deserve it.