Maxim. Where are you? They're taking me off the deck.
She stepped away from the railing, very cooperative. "Has something happened?"
"It's just a precaution, nothing more," Boris assured. His fingers settled around her arm, and she knew it wasn't just a precaution.
They were taking her prisoner. Had the security force somehow woken up and escaped? Had Theodotus?
Where are you?
Don't panic. These men work for Sorbacov, this is his yacht, not your father's, and his men reported to him. He's countered Theodotus's orders. Of course the first thing they'll do is try to secure you.
She noticed he used the word try. She pulled back, stubbornly refusing to move. "Please don't grab me. I don't like people putting their hands on me."
The two stared at each another, Boris obviously unimpressed with her haughtily delivered order. He didn't relinquish his hold on her.
"Gorya?" She raised her eyebrow, turning to the steward for help. "I don't mind going with the two of you, but I won't be dragged around like a rag doll."
"I don't much care what you like," Boris snapped, dropping all pretense of civility. He tightened his hold on her arm and dragged her several steps across the deck.
Airiana took three stumbling steps and let out a cry of pain as her foot came down hard. Boris paused, and she shot him in the side of the neck with her dart gun. He grunted, his mouth still forming a curse, his eyes wide with shock. For a moment he teetered back and forth and then he toppled like a giant tree, his hand still clamped around her arm.
She went down with him and lay for a moment fighting for breath. Gorya hurried to her side, still unaware that she'd darted Boris. The moment he got close, he realized something was wrong and let out a shout for help. He leapt back just as she brought up the dart gun. Rolling over to come to her hands and knees, she started to rise.
Gorya kicked her hard in the ribs, sending her sprawling across Boris's body. Pain exploded through her, but she held on to the dart gun as if it were her lifeline--and maybe it was. She kept rolling, trying to stay away from Gorya's feet. He seemed to be everywhere, dancing close and whirling away in some strange form of martial arts she'd never seen before.
He was faster than she would have believed him to be, but she should have known that everyone working on the yacht was probably highly trained in combat skills as well as their daily jobs.
Gorya kicked her repeatedly, strike after strike, always dancing out of reach, so fast she couldn't aim the dart gun. She kept moving away from him but she was running out of deck. It was only a matter of time before he landed a blow hard enough to break something.
This man is making me angry.
Losing your temper won't help. Just take aim and shoot the bastard.
She wanted to curse, but she didn't have time. Gorya nailed her in her arm, deadening it, so that the dart gun slipped from nerveless fingers.
I need to be able to bring him down.
You really need to pay more attention in your self-defense class, Maxim said.
Really? I don't think so.
She had a few defenses of her own, and Gorya's weird monkey-like dancing was making her feel a little seasick. She was tired of everyone suddenly turning from nice to enemy. She felt surrounded on all sides, and she just wanted to go home.
Airiana called to the wind to defend her. It came pouring over the yacht, fast, furious, slamming into Gorya as he rolled close to her, lashed out with his foot and retreated. The wind howled, an entity without mercy, as it struck, hitting him square in the chest, uncaring how fast he was. Uncaring how trained he was.
Gorya hit the railing hard, so hard she heard a terrible crack and a scream. The wind was relentless, sliding beneath his legs and lifting them into the air so that he teetered on the railing.
"Enough," she whispered to the wind. "That's enough."
Scooping up the dart gun, she tried to push herself to her feet. There didn't seem to be a place on her body that didn't hurt. The wind lessened its fury, but hadn't died down that much, still tugging and pushing at the steward's body, trying to get him away from Airiana.
Gorya screamed, galvanizing her into action. She forced herself to her feet. Her legs felt like rubber and she went down to one knee just as Gorya slipped off the railing into the dark water below.
She closed her eyes for a moment and knelt there, trying to catch her breath. Tears burned. She'd just killed a man, using her gifts. It was so wrong. She was supposed to use them for good, never evil. This life was madness. She couldn't imagine how Maxim had survived it and stayed sane all those long years.
She not only felt the vibration of running footsteps, but heard them as well. Maxim wouldn't make any noise. If he came to her, it would be in silence. He knew she was in trouble, so he'd be there if he could.
Tell me you're still alive, she whispered and pressed her palm hard to her thigh. She needed him. Not to save her life again, but just to hold her. Just for a minute.
She sank back onto the deck and shoved the few extra darts Maxim had given her back into the gun. Crawling, she made it to Boris's body. Dragging his dead weight was much harder than she'd anticipated and whoever was coming was close. In the end, she sank down, using Boris for a shield, trying to blend into the shadows as Maxim did.
I'm alive, Maxim assured her. I've got a couple of them stalking me. I've already taken out two.
I've done the same, but someone's coming.
Can you hide?
I'm trying your blurring technique. It seemed very useful. She used the air around her to build a little cocoon, wrapping herself up tight in the hopes that it would make it more difficult to spot her.
Maxim's gift of fading into the background wasn't just because he was bound to air, it was more than that, but still, she knew part of what he did was wrapping air around himself to "muddy" his image.
The captain skidded to a halt, an assault rifle in his hands. He looked furious, and ready to shoot anything that moved. She held herself very still, even holding her breath, afraid that anything at all might give her away. She wasn't certain why she found the captain so much more intimidating--maybe it was the assault rifle and the businesslike look on his face.
He spotted Boris's body and took his time, scanning the deck for trouble before he crossed to the body and reached down to feel for a pulse. He looked right at her and her heart stuttered and then began to pound. He touched Boris's neck and found the dart. He cursed as he pulled it out, once more looking around.
He hadn't seen her. Wrapping herself in layers of air had blurred her image enough that the shadows successfully kept her hidden. Reluctant to move and possibly draw attention to herself, Airiana debated whether or not to try to use the dart gun on him. Her hand already was shaking, but a small warning alarm kept going off in her head. Earlier, in the patterns she'd seen in the clouds, there had been violence, the deck riddled with bullets.
There was no sound at all to warn her, but she was suddenly aware she was not alone with the captain. Maxim had joined them. She strained her eyes looking for him, searching the darkest parts of the deck, but she still couldn't discover where he was. The captain must have his own radar because he suddenly crouched low, not more than four feet from her, the rifle ready, scrutinizing every inch of the deck systematically.
Above you. Don't move
. Don't make a sound.
She didn't turn her head or tilt it, but just looked up with her eyes. Even then, with him telling her where he was, she failed to spot him immediately. When she did, the breath rushed from her lungs. He was on the ceiling of the overhang above the bar, like a spider, stretched out, using fingertips and toes to push himself like a giant spider to the very edge of the overhang.
How do you do that? Because that wasn't human. No one could hang upside down from a ceiling and not fall. That was completely defying gravity.
Air. There are all kinds of uses for air. You've never had to use them so you haven't considered them, but a large cushion of air can help hold me in position for a fairly long time. He was so matter-of-fact. He loomed over them, both her and the captain.
The captain never once thought to look up. He was on the deck, most of which was open, and it just didn't occur to him that Maxim could be overhead. She pressed her lips together tightly. She was terrified of giving Maxim away. It had been better when she hadn't known where he was. Now, it took every ounce of discipline she had not to stare at him. She feared that intensity might just draw the captain's attention.
The wind shifted, just the smallest bit, sending the gauze wraps that Maxim had removed from her feet earlier fluttering on the lounger. The captain lifted the assault rifle and sprayed the entire area with bullets.
She flattened herself against the wall, shocked at the sound of the gun as it spewed what seemed like a million bullets. She didn't think he'd ever stop. The sound hurt her ears and she couldn't stop herself from covering them.
The captain must have caught that little flash of movement and he started to turn toward her, the rifle still spitting bullets. She froze, unable to move even as the barrel began to swing around.
Maxim kicked away from the ceiling, diving headfirst, slamming into the captain hard, driving him over sideways, his hands grabbing the rifle. Airiana jammed her fist into her mouth as the two men struggled for possession of the weapon. The captain still had his finger on the trigger and tried desperately to turn the barrel toward Maxim.
She became aware of the dart gun still in her fist. Without giving herself time to think about it, she crawled forward. She had to crawl over Boris's body. Grateful that she was small, and could fit in tight places, she moved around Maxim to get to the other side of the captain.