09-08-2018, 03:04 PM
Her question stirred expectations Jay barely held of himself. Despite the grim situation, a grin eeked out from beneath the brim of the Stetson. He never assigned such ridiculous titles to himself before. “No thanks” was the answer automatically summoned. His eyes were not filled with base hunger. She was unlikely to even remember the tease, though he might remind her later.
Cargo planes weren’t known for nice round windows with which to view the globe from above. But he knew the world curved a hazy blue arc. The last day was a blur, impossible to believe where they stood this time yesterday. From palaces and power to corn and casinos. The gray uniform of the Nine was in his room, laid out on the bed when he exhumed a cleaner shirt from. Natalie wrapped in pale blue that sparkled like sunbeams glinting on ocean waters. Tuxedos, champagne glasses, Ascendancy. If he wanted to impress Anna Marie, a flash of the winged skeleton would do it. Instead, retreat was the order of the day.
The wallet buzzed again. Cayli probably going stir-crazy. The same restlessness that itched his bones to activity yanked on her soul as well. He felt bad for the kid, but she could survive a little longer on her own. Morbid pun intended.
A press to the hip shocked like electricity like touching a hot socket. The flinch was small. Sickness, failure and guilt threatened resurrection from someplace long buried. The void was filled with something else, though. Tension drained slowly as her hug allowed no competitors.
Shielding her, Jay could hold back the rain that threatened to drench them both. Long, lonely roads awaited both their futures. He was suppose to meet the Dominions in Africa in short order. Titles wouldn’t bring Natalie into the cross fire. Red cross representative or CCD ambassador belonged in embassies and board rooms, not in the heat of battle. Though, given what he now knew she years-ago mastered, she might be an asset to the fight. Except Jay knew his limits. If duty ever conflicted with her, he knew what he would choose and fuck the consequences. Those were the kinds of decisions that lost battles and saw good men killed. If Natalie walked the continent, Jay would plunge into the arc of that bleak horizon until finding her safe. It killed him to realize it, but she had to stay behind. CCD preferably. Probably a bad idea to leave her in the States. Her family was well-connected, her father seemingly especially. Maybe he could protect her. Even from prison. Alvis was a possibility.
He didn’t move. Never wanting this moment to end. Or at least letting the closeness of her fill his memories until he could see it even should blindness strike in the future. He could carry on through the turmoil of the future with this peaceful moment to cling to better days.
A knock on the door and Jay jumped.
Natalie was unlikely to stand on her own, so he helped her a moment before stealthily padding to the door and checking the sight-bore. Probably Cayli’s impatience gained the best of her when messages went unanswered. Natalie said she’d been tracked down before, implored to deliver a plea to the older brother mediator between a teenage girl and their parents.
He checked the bore, a swimmingly round distortion of the hall beyond filled his sights.
All breath caught in his chest. The power swarmed into grasp. Emotion drained. Muscle and instinct replaced it. A fraction of a second was all there was to make the decision. Goddammit.
He yanked open the door with a whoosh of air. The man on the other side wasn’t expecting confrontation. He expected a guy hiding under the bed ready to piss himself afraid. A pissed off guardian hovering on the edge of darkness was the last thing he expected to face.
A blast burst from Jay in assault. The man with all his muscle and sinew of an oak tree, flung from his feet. Slammed into the opposite wall. Slumped still. He wasn’t stupid, though. His buddy waited out of sight of the peep hole.
The air was hot like Jay was a mirage flashing in the desert. He moved. Struck. Deflected. Muscle moving faster than the power that he launched like missiles on air-strike.
So maybe he wasn’t completely without emotion.
He dragged the first one into Natalie’s room. Stopped only when his hand hurt and the guy was too injured to escape. Bonds of the power caged him. He’d not be able to crawl away even if he tried.
He used the power to snag the other guy’s ankle and drag his ass in next to his friend.
Guns were shoved aside. Did Amengual not warn anyone who they were dealing with?
He stood over the pair. The same tight-jawwed muscle from the hospital. Panting. Swarming with power. Darkness flitting around the room like demons. Natalie said her power was beautiful. Like music. Jay’s was anything but beautiful. It was crushing and violent. The flashbomb of a nuclear eruption that incinerated its targets to dust.
He could do it, he realized. Incinerate these two shits to dust and kick their ashes into the carpet. Far easier than he cared to admit. The more chilling realization wasn’t the capacity within to do just that, but that Jay only barely hesitated from carrying out the gruesome end. It wasn’t mercy that hesitated executing Wallace-Johnson. It was the epiphany that he how greatly wanted to do it.
He had questions for these two bastards. Amengual’s hounds. Did they really think to take him so easily? To knock on the door and jump a trained operator and Rod of Dominion?
Then understanding flooded in. He whipped around, Natalie forgotten until now.
This was her room.
They were here to take her.
He had to retreat. If he didn’t, he’d kill them both before there was time to extract answers, and they'd envy Andres Amengual's violent reaper of carnage.
Cargo planes weren’t known for nice round windows with which to view the globe from above. But he knew the world curved a hazy blue arc. The last day was a blur, impossible to believe where they stood this time yesterday. From palaces and power to corn and casinos. The gray uniform of the Nine was in his room, laid out on the bed when he exhumed a cleaner shirt from. Natalie wrapped in pale blue that sparkled like sunbeams glinting on ocean waters. Tuxedos, champagne glasses, Ascendancy. If he wanted to impress Anna Marie, a flash of the winged skeleton would do it. Instead, retreat was the order of the day.
The wallet buzzed again. Cayli probably going stir-crazy. The same restlessness that itched his bones to activity yanked on her soul as well. He felt bad for the kid, but she could survive a little longer on her own. Morbid pun intended.
A press to the hip shocked like electricity like touching a hot socket. The flinch was small. Sickness, failure and guilt threatened resurrection from someplace long buried. The void was filled with something else, though. Tension drained slowly as her hug allowed no competitors.
Shielding her, Jay could hold back the rain that threatened to drench them both. Long, lonely roads awaited both their futures. He was suppose to meet the Dominions in Africa in short order. Titles wouldn’t bring Natalie into the cross fire. Red cross representative or CCD ambassador belonged in embassies and board rooms, not in the heat of battle. Though, given what he now knew she years-ago mastered, she might be an asset to the fight. Except Jay knew his limits. If duty ever conflicted with her, he knew what he would choose and fuck the consequences. Those were the kinds of decisions that lost battles and saw good men killed. If Natalie walked the continent, Jay would plunge into the arc of that bleak horizon until finding her safe. It killed him to realize it, but she had to stay behind. CCD preferably. Probably a bad idea to leave her in the States. Her family was well-connected, her father seemingly especially. Maybe he could protect her. Even from prison. Alvis was a possibility.
He didn’t move. Never wanting this moment to end. Or at least letting the closeness of her fill his memories until he could see it even should blindness strike in the future. He could carry on through the turmoil of the future with this peaceful moment to cling to better days.
A knock on the door and Jay jumped.
Natalie was unlikely to stand on her own, so he helped her a moment before stealthily padding to the door and checking the sight-bore. Probably Cayli’s impatience gained the best of her when messages went unanswered. Natalie said she’d been tracked down before, implored to deliver a plea to the older brother mediator between a teenage girl and their parents.
He checked the bore, a swimmingly round distortion of the hall beyond filled his sights.
All breath caught in his chest. The power swarmed into grasp. Emotion drained. Muscle and instinct replaced it. A fraction of a second was all there was to make the decision. Goddammit.
He yanked open the door with a whoosh of air. The man on the other side wasn’t expecting confrontation. He expected a guy hiding under the bed ready to piss himself afraid. A pissed off guardian hovering on the edge of darkness was the last thing he expected to face.
A blast burst from Jay in assault. The man with all his muscle and sinew of an oak tree, flung from his feet. Slammed into the opposite wall. Slumped still. He wasn’t stupid, though. His buddy waited out of sight of the peep hole.
The air was hot like Jay was a mirage flashing in the desert. He moved. Struck. Deflected. Muscle moving faster than the power that he launched like missiles on air-strike.
So maybe he wasn’t completely without emotion.
He dragged the first one into Natalie’s room. Stopped only when his hand hurt and the guy was too injured to escape. Bonds of the power caged him. He’d not be able to crawl away even if he tried.
He used the power to snag the other guy’s ankle and drag his ass in next to his friend.
Guns were shoved aside. Did Amengual not warn anyone who they were dealing with?
He stood over the pair. The same tight-jawwed muscle from the hospital. Panting. Swarming with power. Darkness flitting around the room like demons. Natalie said her power was beautiful. Like music. Jay’s was anything but beautiful. It was crushing and violent. The flashbomb of a nuclear eruption that incinerated its targets to dust.
He could do it, he realized. Incinerate these two shits to dust and kick their ashes into the carpet. Far easier than he cared to admit. The more chilling realization wasn’t the capacity within to do just that, but that Jay only barely hesitated from carrying out the gruesome end. It wasn’t mercy that hesitated executing Wallace-Johnson. It was the epiphany that he how greatly wanted to do it.
He had questions for these two bastards. Amengual’s hounds. Did they really think to take him so easily? To knock on the door and jump a trained operator and Rod of Dominion?
Then understanding flooded in. He whipped around, Natalie forgotten until now.
This was her room.
They were here to take her.
He had to retreat. If he didn’t, he’d kill them both before there was time to extract answers, and they'd envy Andres Amengual's violent reaper of carnage.
Only darkness shows you the light.