Kyle's POV
Ming rushed through the door, nearly tripping over herself, breath heavy, body caked in frost. I blinked at her, my expression brightening as I lowered myself from the air. I'd been practicing my Telekinesis, floating and twirling a pair of knives.
Finally, something exciting was happening.
"The plan failed," she said.
"Yeah, I got that from the building nearly collapsing. Did the spandex-wearing freaks follow you up?" I asked, telekinetically pulling the knives into my hands.
Ming gave me a stern look, like she was my mother or something. "No. You're not charging down those stairs and getting into a brawl with the fucking Justice League. Alex's family is the priority. Remember Ade's orders?"
I leaned forward, smirking. "Oh, I remember alright," I whispered in her ear. "He said to protect them to the best of my abilities—but never risk capture. If the situation becomes impossible, I'm supposed to terminate them all and escape."
Ming went pale.
"I see," she said slowly, her expression shifting—reluctance bleeding into acceptance. I blinked, stepping back.
"Hot damn. There's cold, and then there's you guys."
Ming had been in Alex's circle for years. Damn. She was at his wedding, at his youngest son's birth, and I'd just told her her boss wanted me to gut them like a fucking fish—and that was all she had to say?
"In time you'll understand," she said quietly, eyes unfocused. "The vows take emotion out of it."
"You think that's gonna make the rich boy feel better?" I said. "Telling him I absolutely didn't enjoy killing his wife and kids?"
"No!" Ming hissed, forcing a smile onto her face.
It was the most unnatural thing I'd ever seen—and I could make things float with my mind.
It was then that I realized the smile wasn't for me. She was looking past me, locking eyes with Alex's supermodel wife, Bianca.
She had an ass like an eighteen-year-old and a face that was imperfectly perfect. It didn't take long to put it together that she'd gotten the same treatment I had. With a single touch, Artisan had remade me—tweaked my brain and body so my Telekinesis flowed easier, cleaner.
Bianca owned an up-and-coming fitness clothing brand valued at twenty million dollars. I respected the hustle—using an ill-gotten body to sell desperate people dreams most of them would never achieve. She was a predator.
We all were.
Boss lady had brutally stomped out everything else.
Heh. Who would've thought I'd end up in a death cult headed by a woman? Life had a great sense of humor.
Ming looked back at me. "I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. We need to evacuate them."
"And take 'em where?" I asked. "If they want them, they're going to get 'em."
"We break the city," Ming said quickly, a calculating gleam in her eyes. "How far can you reach with your Telekinesis now?"
"Pretty far," I answered, a slow smile spreading across my face. "You want me to take hostages."
"We have to force the Leaguers into a binding vow," she explained, a queasy look flashing across her face. "It's the best way to buy time until backup arrives. And if it doesn't—" She swallowed. "They'll be our exit strategy."
I could dig that.
"Of course, we'll have to make examples out of a couple of people first," I said. "No real teeth to a threat if you're not willing to spill some blood."
Ming looked irritated. She clearly saw through me. "Five people. No more. If we escalate too fast, we risk destabilizing the situation. More bodies also mean more news coverage—something we don't want."
I glanced out the window at the chaos Ade and Julius had unleashed during their little tussle. "I think we're well past that point."
I studied Ming more closely. Her tattoos, piercings, and technique said one thing—but if you paid attention, you saw something else entirely.
"You don't have the stomach for this, do you?" I asked. "Why'd you let yourself get snatched up?"
She shot me an incredulous look. "Who said I had a choice?"
"What's going on?" Bianca finally spoke, drawing her children closer.
One was asleep on her hip. The other had cried herself to exhaustion, clinging to her mother with one hand and a teddy bear with the other.
She really should've chosen somebody better. Alex ruined her.
"Still, I gotta ask, if it comes down to it," I whispered in Ming's ear, "do you want me to do it—or will you take care of it yourself?"
I delighted in the rage that exploded in her eyes.
"You won't touch them! Not a single hair on their heads!"
She grabbed my hand and squeezed—hard enough to fracture bone. I almost buried a knife in her eyes when she released me. I dropped to my knees, hissing, and she walked past me without looking back.
"Everything will be fine," she promised Bianca. "We take care of family. Everything will be fine."
Listening to her, I couldn't bring myself to be angry.
Laughter spilled out instead.
"You're something else, Ming."
–
Flash's POV
The world stopped as I ran, pushing myself faster than I typically did in cities—but that was the kind of mission this was. I knew the risk of failure, the risk of not getting to them in time, and the tragedy that would invite.
We might outnumber them at the moment and have stronger fighters, but they had us over a barrel. The city of New York was one massive hostage—one they could leverage to get us to do just about anything, if they played their cards right.
But I wasn't about to let that happen.
I leaped over a speeding car, bounced off a streetlight, and ran up the side of a high-rise, circling it until I reached the top. I raced off the edge, boosting myself over the border with a jump and discharge of speed force energy.
Lightning snaked down my body, scarring the limestone. I windmilled, hands and legs seesawing. My hand caught a flagpole jutting from the side of the Empire State Building. I twisted, feeding my momentum into the pole, using it to build even more speed as I looped around it twice before letting go at the apex.
The maneuver got me halfway up the building. My rising speed carried me the rest of the way.
Alex and Sanjay stood frozen there, mid-teleport. They'd just arrived after setting fire to the parking plaza.
I wasn't going to give them a chance to hurt anybody else.
I went after Sanjay first—blinding him with a scarf I'd snatched off a panicking woman, then cutting off his meta-powers with an inhibitor collar and tying up his hands. As for Alex, I pulled out a strange-looking rope, dotted with mystical Japanese markings and other obscure languages.
I stared at it skeptically.
I still struggled to wrap my head around the idea of magic, but it was sure as hell real. Most of the League still had phantom pain from the injuries Artisan inflicted. So I muscled through my questions and reservations and got to work, hog-tying Alexander. I seized both of their phones, tucking them into my utility belt for analysis later.
Both men toppled over in undignified yelps as the crowd screamed, parting and pointing. I waved, wearing a sheepish smile.
"Nothing to see here, folks."
"Oh my God, it's Flash."
"What's going on at the Plaza?"
"Is there a supervillain attack?"
"We're going to die, aren't we?"
"We need to get out of here!"
"Wait—are you guys the reason why the cell towers are down across New York!"
"That's Alex Whitmore. Isn't he, like, uber rich?"
"Help!" Alex screamed. "The Justice League is trying to kidnap me. Please—don't let them take me!"
The sympathy was immediate. Some people were already stepping forward.
I held up a hand. "I wouldn't be coming after him if we didn't have something on him." I pointed toward the horizon, where smoke rose from a growing fire. "He and the kid behind him are responsible for the chaos tearing through your city."
"He's lying!" Alex shouted.
"You'll get your chance to argue that in front of a judge," I said smoothly, yanking him to his feet.
"You bet I will," Alex sneered.
The crowd's reaction was more divided than I expected—and it wasn't hard to see why. Alex was amazing at his job as Artisan's ambassador. He and his family were pillars of New York's aristocracy. He supported popular causes, gave generously to charity, and openly criticized politicians.
He was the people's champion.
It didn't matter that I'd saved the world twice last month. He was their hero—and in court, that was going to matter a lot more than his circumstantial ties to a terrorist death cult.
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
We had our work cut out for us.
I scooped up both men and sped away.
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