Clear Lake Academy holds some of the worst delinquents from around the country. Each and every student there holds a notorious background and almost everyone avoids them.
After setting another building on fire, which just so happened to be a commun...
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I dropped low just as a fist cut through the air where my head had been. My palm hit the concrete and I swept my leg out in one sharp motion, knocking an older man clean off his feet. He crashed onto his back with a grunt.
The room was barely lit—only a weak wash of yellow from a lamppost outside the single window on the left. The cold seeped through my clothes, raising goosebumps along my arms despite the heat of the fight.
Behind me, Nico opened fire in controlled bursts—not reckless, not lethal. Precise. Anyone who got too close dropped with a cry, clutching a leg or shoulder as he deliberately disabled instead of killed.
"Right!" He barked.
I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see someone advancing. I pivoted, slamming the butt of my handgun down against his temple. He staggered, blinking hard, before collapsing in a heap, groaning and clutching his head.
Another came at me.
I launched a roundhouse kick toward his ribs, but he caught my ankle mid-air. His fingers clamped down tight, a smug grin spreading across his face.
I smiled back.
Then I yanked my leg toward me with everything I had.
His balance gave out and he pitched forward. I twisted, sweeping his standing leg out from under him. His jaw hit the concrete first with a sickening crack, followed by the rest of him. He screamed once before curling inward.
One by one, we worked through the outer circle until bodies littered the floor—groaning, clutching injuries, disarmed. But that was just the warm-up.
The center of the room was chaos. Shouting. Cursing. Boots scuffing. Fists colliding. Muzzle flashes briefly illuminating furious faces. Officers and culprits clashed in tight quarters. It wasn't clean. It wasn't orderly. It was a storm.
"Spread hate. Lots of it." I muttered to Nico.
His answering grin was sharp and eager. He followed me in without hesitation, weapon raised.
A few steps away, Liliane was a force of nature.
She drove her fists into a woman's face with brutal precision. A man grabbed her from behind, hauling her upward—but she reacted instantly, gripping his arms and throwing her weight forward. He flipped over her shoulder and hit the ground hard.
She didn't even look back before grabbing the woman by the hair and dragging her down again when she tried to escape.
I blinked, attention falling in front of me to find myself surrounded.
A loose ring of men formed around me, weapons raised, eyes hard. My lips tilted upwards as I stepped forward, hands lifting as if in surrender. Their guns tracked my movement.
Liliane shoved through a gap behind them, disrupting their line just enough.
