Balanced Chaos (The Void Series Book 3) Page 22

  Without thinking through her options, Sam turned to the distant wall and ran. She did an about face, dug her feet in, and bolted for the gaping fissure in the wall.

  It wasn’t until she was flying through the air that she realized what an idiot she was being.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sam landed on the back of the half-dragon, its back-spines digging painfully into her gut and slicing her stomach open. She glanced down at the cut as she scrambled for a hand hold on the sharp spines. The dragon bellowed and pumped its damaged wings, taking them up above the walls of the Res.

  For a brief moment, Sam imagined herself in control of the beast and flying far away from the reservation and her horrible life—then the half-dragon banked to the side and Sam found herself hanging by her fragile grip on its back-spines, her legs dangling off its side. As the fingers of her left hand slipped off, she lunged for the joint of the animal’s wing, barely managing to wrap her fingers around the bone. Just as her arms were about to give out, the dragon righted itself and her chest thumped against its side. Sam used her new boots to dig into the dragon’s meaty muscles and climb up its shoulders.

  The dragon bent its neck, trying to bite at her, but she hung from its shoulders, too close to its head for it to reach her.

  New meaning to keep your enemies close, she thought as she struggled to find another place to plant her boot.

  The dragon resorted to clawing at her dangling body with one of its four back claws. Sam tried to dodge the attack, but there was only so much she could do as she dangled from the animal’s shoulders. She swung toward the dragon’s head, her leg taking the worst of the swipe. The dragon’s talons tore a long rent in her borrowed cargo pants and an equally long scrape down her leg. Sam grunted in pain and kicked the dragon in the ribs with her good leg.

  “Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath before remembering the stolen power coursing through her system.

  Sam adjusted her grip on the dragon’s back-spine and wedged her boot into the crook of one of its front legs. With this to leverage herself, she worked her way upwards as the dragon hovered in lazy circles and clawed at her, missing her for the most part but leaving large gouges in its own side. Finally, she made it to the dragon’s back only taking one more blow to her leg.

  She adjusted in her seat astride the dragon’s back, blood seeping from the cut on her stomach and the two gashes on her leg. All the same, she was alive and no longer in danger of falling to her death.

  Sam took a moment to gaze out over the wide world. At a distance, she spotted the towering buildings of what must have been Chicago, the city she had heard the FMB guards talking about. Early morning fog obscured the lower levels of the city, shrouding it in yet more mystery. She knew from her studies that an enormous lake lay beyond the city, but the weather hid it from her view.

  Before Sam could inspect other portions of her first view of the outside world, the dragon veered, forcing her to fight for a grip on its body. She squeezed her legs and feet, not worrying about suffocating the beast with her grip.

  Sam forced her attention back on the reservation below, suddenly noticing the movement on the roof of Newberry’s building. The dragon jerked to the side again and Sam tightened her grip, her attention drawn away from the movement on the building’s roof.

  I’ve got to get down there, she thought, suddenly realizing just how dumb she had been. You dumbass.

  Just as the half-dragon folded his massive wings and dove for the pavement below, an idea came to Sam. She tilted back, working with the dragon’s movements and allowing it to complete its antics. She could bide her time.

  The half-dragon waited until the last second before spreading its wings and cupping the air. Sam was prepared for it and the sudden jerk as it checked their descent. As the dragon worked to regain altitude, Sam glanced down and caught sight of Gallagher and Halstead, along with a few other soldiers.

  Where’s Werner?

  Sam forced her mind on the task at hand as she pulled the knife free from the sheath strapped to her belt. If it weren’t for the new wardrobe forced on her by Gallagher, she never would have had it.

  Bless you, you old fool, she thought as she plunged the dagger into the animal’s neck. I just hope this works.

  With a grimace and a gag, Sam plunged her hand into the hole she had made and groped around. After a moment and another agonized cry from the dragon as it climbed higher into the sky, Sam pulled her hand out of the wound and plunged the dagger back into the gaping hole, digging deeper.

  She repeated the process a few times as the dragon’s flight pattern grew more and more haphazard, its wings stuttering in their rhythm. At last, she felt what she was looking for. Sam wrapped her fingers around the stick-like object, gagging over the side of the dragon’s neck.

  At the same moment, she poured the tiniest trickle of electricity through her fingertips. The dragon spasmed, nearly falling from the sky. Sam backed off, limiting the power to a mere drop. As she did so, she imagined the wings beating and the dragon veering toward the roof with the activity. The dragon obeyed her images, though the flight was awkward and slightly circuitous, as though the animal had just learned to fly and didn’t quite know how to get from point A to point B.

  After weaving around the building a few times, his wing-tips taking out a few windows and dislodging a brick or two at the corners, they finally rose up high enough to land on the flat roof. Sam cringed as the dragon tumbled onto the roof, its eight appendages digging deep grooves into the flat roof until Sam was sure the next rainfall would end up in someone’s living room.

  The various figures on the roof lunged to the side, barely making it out of the dragon’s path as its legs gave out and it crashed onto its belly. The dragon’s momentum kept it moving for another few feet as its chin gouged another line in the building’s roof. At last, it settled to an undignified stop and lumbered back to its feet. The beast flexed its claws, its long talons digging yet more holes in the roof. Sam grimaced as she thought of Gallagher’s response to the damage she was doing to the building.

  At last, Sam glanced around at the people climbing to their feet. It came as no surprise to find herself surrounded by the clan leaders and the young mage they had hired to summon the dragon. What did come as a surprise was the sight of Amber, held between two men near the door leading down into the building.

  Sam turned her glare onto the leaders. “Let her go. This is between you and me.”

  “Not any more. You’ve made this bigger by bringing in the humans. Submit yourself to us and we’ll release Miss Tin.”

  Sam began to release her grip on the slimy dragon’s spine, but before she could, Amber yelled, “No! Don’t you dare, Sam. We do not bow to the likes of the—”

  “Shut up,” Sam snapped, cutting off her best friend.

  All the same, she tightened her grip and released her gift, probing the clan leaders. As she did, she spotted two other fae hovering beside her step-father, unaware that she didn’t give a rat’s ass about Dave. Mr. Newberry on the other hand… She searched for him and found him flanked by two other clan leaders.

  “It’s not just Amber you intend to do away with, is it?”

  “What do you mean?” asked the spokesman—a Harcos Fae who could blind his enemies.

  Sam ran her eyes over the group, each member preparing for a fight, even those unaware of their impending death.

  “Just that there are those in your group that might need to be hardened.” Sam glanced over the group again, her eyes resting on Amber at just the right moment.

  Amber nodded, receiving the hidden message and understanding it. The empath closed her eyes and went to work, even though it would likely result in her death. Sam pushed those thoughts away and watched the effects. Dave and Newberry’s backs straightened, as though someone had suddenly given them a dose of courage they had previously been lacking. They glanced around the mob standing on the roof, looking at their clan leaders though a new lens.

>   “What does that mean, Void? Will you submit to your clan leaders?” demanded Blinder.

  Sam looked down at him as she adjusted her grip on the half-dragon’s spine. “I bow to no one.”

  And with that she envisioned the dragon taking flight, a few quick beats of its mighty wings lifting them a few stories above the roof. At the same moment, she felt Amber’s emotional push. Dave and Newberry went into action. Dave vanished, using his ability to become invisible. Sam had no doubt the minute Amber stopped pushing him, he would run, saving himself. Newberry, on the other hand, would try to help, but there was little his ability to hear other’s thoughts could do for her so long as she sat astride a dragon and he sat helpless down there.

  Sam focused on the dragon and the continuous trickle of electrical power draining from her depleting stores. She honed in on her gift and the array of powers surrounding her. To her annoyance, none of them were electrical in nature. Instead, she turned on the mage and gave her a mighty yank with her gift until the young girl dropped to her knees.

  At the same moment, the man standing beside Amber clamped his hand on the back of her neck. Amber jerked as her head tipped back and water spewed from her mouth. She spit it out, but more gurgled up.

  “No!” Sam cried out, directing the hijacked dragon toward the man and Amber with what power she still possessed.

  Amber continued to fight against the water bubbling up from within her, literally choking on her own fluids as the water fae controlled the liquid inside Amber’s body. Sam had heard of fae powerful enough to do that, but had never seen it happen.

  The dragon focused in on the water fae, its wings shaking as its life force continue to drain from the wound Sam had made in the back of its neck. Sam knew the animal was nearing death. She had one chance to stop the water fae before he could kill Amber.

  Sooner than she expected, the dragon’s wings went limp and they dove, quickly picking up speed. Once again, the dragon nose-dived into the roof, this time aimed directly for Amber and her attacker, and moving too fast for them to duck out of the way.

  Sam released her grip on the dragon’s spine at the last second and rolled with the impact, grunting with the pain of colliding into the short brick wall surrounding the roof. Jumping to her feet, she turned to find Amber crumpled under one of the dragon’s enormous front legs, a claw sunk deep into her leg. The water fae was trying to get up, though, from the look of things, the impact of the dragon had broken one of his arms.

  Assessing the stolen power coursing through her, Sam realized she was all but out of electrical power. All that remained was the power of the mage. While mage power was adaptable, it also required more training to wield it properly. What little work she had done with Jason left her with few options.

  Sam flung a spell at the water fae that was more show than anything else. In truth it was little more than a missile of power that only did minor damage, but it would keep him down long enough for Sam to get to Amber and assess her injuries. Sam scrambled across the roof and grabbed Amber’s shoulders, only then aware that something was very wrong.

  Amber’s eyes stared fixedly at something just above Sam’s shoulder. Sam gave her a little shake and Amber’s head rolled to the side, as though Sam had dislodged whatever clout held Amber upright. All of the sudden Amber went limp.

  “Amber?” Sam whispered as her fingers fumbled for her friend’s throat.

  Clammy skin awaited her. No flutter of life beat against her finger.

  “Shit. No. No, no, no. Amber,” she chanted, giving the body another shake.

  At the last second, Sam became aware of her gift’s frantic summoning. Without worrying about what power she might end up with, Sam released her gift and it enveloped the attacking fae, taking a mighty pull on the other fae’s power as it tried to sneak up on her. Within seconds she felt her tank fill to bursting with a strange power.

  Sam turned to see another fae standing a few steps behind her. He swayed on his feet, a certain grace masking how close he was to collapsing under the weight of her attack. Sam focused inward, probing the power pulsing through her bloodstream, but no matter how she studied it, she couldn’t identify it.

  Suddenly her eyes jerked opened as she tweaked her shoulders to the left, a flying stone whizzing past her head. Sam hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes. She jumped to her feet and darted away from Amber’s lifeless body, running with an ease she’d never experienced before. Whatever the fae’s power, it was making each movement as easy as breathing.

  Another flying stone missed her by centimeters as she jumped to the left. As she ran, she twisted, flinging the same easy spell at the fae who kept throwing rocks at her. She knew it was just shy of useless, but it was just about all she could do with the mage power. It was that or send up a big shower of light—little more than a flare.

  Sam, you dope, she thought as she leapt, narrowly avoiding a sprouting vine covered in large thorns. She focused on her stolen mage power and shot up a flash of power. A few seconds later, the sky erupted in a bright flash of red light, looking like the skies during the Fourth of July.

  To her disgust, her attempt at a flare had used up the last of her stolen mage power. Jason would slap you for that wastefulness, she thought to herself as she continued to run, jumping over the vines as they continued to sprout from the rooftop. Where are these coming from? she wondered, and how is it I haven’t tripped yet?

  Though Sam wasn’t a complete oaf, in normal circumstances she would never have lasted this long with vines sprouting everyone and a fae flinging stones at her. Suddenly it dawned on her what the strange power coursing through her had given her.

  “Cat’s Grace,” she panted to herself as she ducked under another speeding projectile.

  Sam released her gift again, honing in on the young mage and the fae with “Cat’s Grace,” a common nickname for those with unusual physical grace and skill. The mage fought her, using some spell Sam had never encountered before. Sam quickly abandoned her attack on the mage. She would need all her concentration to counter the mage’s spell, something she did not have while attacking another target and speeding around a jungle-gym suspended three stories above the ground and dodging the attack of some seven-odd other enemies.

  As Sam felt Mr. Cat’s Grace began to weaken, she diverted her gift onto the water fae who had been attacking Amber, draining him to the point of unconsciousness. Dodging another projectile, she tried flinging water at the fae she thought was responsible for the bizarre roots growing out of the roof—except nothing happened.

  “What the…?” began Sam, only to stop with a grunt as something struck in the back.

  Sam turned to see the Stone Thrower, having completely lost track of him in the chaos. Again, she tried to fling a volley of water at him, hoping to send him toppling off the roof but, like before, nothing happened. An annoyed growl escaped her lips as she took to a run again, her feet agilely working their way over the roots as she ducked more flying rocks.

  “What am I missing?” she mumbled to herself as she ducked and dodged, forcing her aching legs to keep moving.

  He couldn’t create water, just wield it, a strange voice said in her mind.

  Sam nearly tripped despite her stolen Cat’s Grace as someone else’s voice spoke in her head. It only took her a second to realize it was Mr. Newberry, the telepath.

  He’s still alive? Sam wondered in shock.

  Believe it or not. Yes, I’m still alive, Newberry thought back, his voice dripping with sarcasm Sam wasn’t used to hearing in the older man’s voice. You need to find water to manipulate if you want to use Jerry’s power.

  Right, Sam thought as she glanced around, absently ducking another stone and leaping over the outstretched tail of the dead dragon—the dead dragon she had stabbed. She looked down at her hand, stained red by the blood of the enormous beast.

  Sam weaved her way around the multiple limbs of the dragon, splayed out in all directions. She reached the last one and went to
leap, only to find herself fresh out of stolen Cat’s Grace. Instead of flying easily over the thick limp, her foot caught, sending her face first into the rough roofing material.

  “Ow,” she mumbled as she released her gift and sent it buzzing after the fae.

  She scrambled to her feet just in time to see the spokesman for the clan leaders shove Mr. Cat’s Grace over the short wall edging the roof. Sam stood in shock for a moment before she thought to reach out with her gift, trying steal the last remaining power of the fae before he hit the pavement below, but she was too late. She glanced over the battlefield, staring at the spokesman in terror.

  He gave her a sick smile before ducking behind a wall of thorny vines. Sam looked around, finally identifying the woman who was making the annoying foliage.

  At the last second, Sam jumped back behind the thick leg of the dragon and ducked down, narrowly avoiding being struck by another rock. Sam huddled behind the dragon’s leg, taking stock of her situation.

  She was out of Cat’s Grace and there was no more to be had. There were six or seven more assailants to be dealt with of varying degrees of power, and she was basically on her own. And as far as she could tell, they were ruthless enough to kill off one of their own members if she found their power too useful. Oh, and the mage had found a way to counteract Sam’s ability to steal powers.

  Anything else you’re forgetting? Sam asked herself sarcastically.

  You killed your best friend, the other half of her brain supplied helpfully.

  Shut up, she replied to herself.

  You asked.

  Great, now you’re talking to yourself!

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Did we tire you out?” called a voice from across the roof.

  “You know, the last guy to taunt me like that died in the warehouse massacre,” Sam said, steeling herself against the onslaught of memories that would come with her reference; to her astonishment, none came.

  Nor did a response.