Touch (Denazen #1)(82)

A figure appeared in the doorway and Sira screamed, “Move!”

She must have recognized the woman, because as Ginger’s people scattered, the newcomer smiled and, with a slight twist of her slim hips, liquefied. Now an angry, swirling mass of water, she sliced through the room, straight at Sira.

I was about to rush forward to help her, but someone grabbed me from behind. I wrenched my right arm free and snapped it back into the gut of the suit. Surprised, he released me. I whirled on him—he was leaning forward to grab me again—and snagged a handful of his hair. A girl move? Totally. But he sure as hell wasn’t expecting it. I yanked down, bringing my knee up at the same time. It connected with the side of his head in a very satisfying thwack.

Dad’s voice rang out over the din. “Don’t let him bleed on you.”

It was that moment I heard the clatter of another struggle. Craning my neck, I saw Alex, bloody knife in hand, circling a fallen Kale. He lumbered to his feet, unsteady.

I didn’t think—I ran. Swinging blind as I cut through the chaos, my fist connected with something soft. There was an anguished scream. A yelp. I didn’t look back.

Something hot rushed past me. A fireball. It clipped Kale in the shoulder, sending him back to the ground. Behind me, Fin stood on the bar, face as blank as the Sixes I’d seen back in the Denazen cages. Dad was beside him. Fin’s hands glowed a fierce red, smoke rising in waves from his arms. He fired another, this time missing Kale by a fairly wide margin. The flame sailed over his head and hit the bar clear across the room, bottles shattering and flames erupting.

Sira’s gift was a mystery, but I hoped she could hold her own. I needed to get to Kale. I caught sight of Mom out of the corner of my eye—just as she mimicked into a man wearing one of Denazen’s trademarked blue suits. I could technically do the same, but the change would take what little strength I had left out of me. I’d be useless.

I was halfway to Kale when something hit me. A chair. Someone had thrown a chair at me. What the hell was this, WWE? Air expelling from my lungs in a single whoosh, I crashed into the wall. While nothing screamed broken, there was the distinct snapping and cracking of limbs as I stumbled upright.

A few feet to my left, Barge went down. Fin was Dad’s best weapon at the moment. In order to use Fin, they needed to bench Barge. He collapsed in a heap, a tranq dart protruding from the side of his neck. The suit who’d shot him aimed at me and fired, but I managed to duck out of the way. The dart embedded itself in the wall a few inches from my head.

Cursing, the man advanced. Mall guy again. “You’re starting to piss me off, kid.”

“Then my life is complete,” I said, stepping closer to the wall. Fingers splayed against the brick, I looked for anything I could use as a weapon. Scattered bits of glass and wood. Nothing useful. I might as well throw my sneaker at him.

My sneaker!

I couldn’t help it. A grin spread across my lips as I reached down and yanked off my shoe. This was one pair of Vans that would be lost to a good cause. Someone needed to knock some sense into this jackass. Pressing my right hand into the brick wall behind me, I clutched my sneaker with the left. The rubbery sole of the shoe hardened, tiny, sharpened bumps popping up along the surface. The pain was minimal. A quick, sharp jabbing in my temple and a dull ache in my neck. The weight increased, and instead of a shoe, I now had a handy, dandy brick.

Perfect for throwing.

My aim wasn’t perfect, but I hit him. He went down like, well, a ton of bricks.

My attention went back to Kale. He was climbing to his feet again, shrugging off the remains of his singed jacket. I was relieved to see the blood on the knife came from a superficial slice on his left forearm. Alex faked a lunge forward as Kale jumped back in anticipation. Alex laughed and looked at the ceiling. The large light fixture above him began to shimmy and shake. Kale dove out of the way as the thing came crashing to the ground, sending bits of glass and metal bouncing across the floor.

Beyond them, Water Girl had backed Sira into a corner. Kale looked like he was holding his own with Alex. They circled each other, Alex making an occasional swipe with the knife and Kale expertly dodging him without steady concentration. They seemed okay so I darted across the floor to help her.

I got to Sira as Water Girl liquefied again. She reached for Sira, pulling the older woman in and engulfing her in a swirling tomb of churning water.

Skidding to a stop in front of them, I yanked off my other shoe, grabbed the top half of a broken Bacardi bottle and concentrated. The pain was almost a joke now, and after a few seconds, I had two matching, broken bottles. I hurled them, one after the other, at Fin’s head. “Hey Smokey, over here!”

Without so much as a second’s hesitation, Fin launched a barrage of fireballs at my head with perfect precision. I dove out of the way in time—for the most part—and the flames hit the real target. Water Girl.

An agonized, gurgling scream, and she resolidified, stumbling away from Sira. This was all the edge the older woman needed. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled. It was like a tornado had ripped through the building. Everything in her path—Water Girl, and two of the Denazen suits—flew backward, crashing against the far wall. Each slid to the ground, motionless.

Something hit me, knocking me sideways. “Down!” An older boy—one of the Sixes who’d come with Ginger. We crashed to the ground as a rush of heat soared over our heads.