Broken People (Serial)

Forty-One

Nervously, Nicholas rolled up his sleeves. He didn't need his hands free to exercise his powers, but it made him feel better. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at Fei Lin. The bot sat on her haunches, hands resting on her massive thighs. From this angle, her shape resembled that of the knife throwers. They both used to be war machines at one point, and despite Spinner's claims the girl inside wouldn't hurt a fly, the men in front of him told another story. Someone needed to keep an eye on her and, obviously, that task couldn't be entrusted to Spinner.

Shaking his head, Nicholas turned his attention back to the men who groaned and whined about their injuries but didn't leave the support of the wall. They couldn't. Nicholas kept them pinned there. During the two long years of hiding from the drafting committee, Nicholas had been in tight situations more than once, and only the use of his power had helped him walk free and in one piece. Those years weren't far gone, and he hadn't forgotten how to use it.

He began with a simple question. "Why did you come to the circus?"

"Prosthetics ..." The man on the left licked his lips.

"We heard there's a car full of them here," his companion said.

The areas of their brains where those memories were stored lit up, and Nicholas memorized the locations. Some fine-tuning would be needed later on but, for now, it was enough. "Who told you that?"

"The owner of a pawn shop in town ..."

"We heard him talking with a customer who was looking for something to have fixed here."

That made sense. Aside from the circus acts and the Nightingale, this was the other thing the whole city was talking about.

"How did you get here?" Nicholas asked.

"The car ..." The man on the left groaned.

"We left it by the warehouse."

So he knew the who, the how, and the why. "What happened then?"

"That ... that thing—" The less chatty man pointed at the bot with a trembling hand.

"Attacked us! We didn't make it to the train."

Nicholas had enough information to proceed. He sent a low electrical current to the mapped areas and short-circuited the cells, destroying the encoded data in the process. The eyes of both men rolled back, and they slumped on their sides in awkward positions.

He gave Fei Lin one last look, wondering what she was thinking of the power display, but since he couldn't read anything on the metallic face, Nicholas grabbed his coat and opened the door.

Rake and Spinner raised their eyebrows.

"It's done." He climbed out of the car. Somewhere behind him, the bot moved to follow him, but he didn't pay any attention to it. "Get their car from the warehouse and drop them into town. They won't remember anything when they wake up."

Before they could ask any questions, Nicholas stalked off in the direction of his car. No one followed him, and that was a good thing. He wanted to be alone. He needed to think.

It didn't take long until Anya peeked inside and found him pacing in the solitude of his cluttered room. The Hrad blueprints lay on the table, but Nicholas's thoughts couldn't have been farther away from them.

"This isn't a good time," he said.

"Nick, I've heard ..." Her voice trailed off. "They shouldn't have made you do that."

"They didn't." This was his own doing, like all of the screwed-up events in his life.

"Still ..." Anya stepped into the room and let out a small sigh.

"It's done, okay?" He snapped. And he had to live with it. He'd always wondered how long it would take him to cross over to the dark side. No need to wait for the answer anymore. Big Dino would be proud—another freak added to his growing collection.

Anya drew in a long, calming breath, and her features recomposed themselves into a concerned mask. She was in full damage control mode. "Are you all right?"

Nicholas held out his right hand. It wasn't shaking. Dealing with small things didn't consume that much of his strength, yet another reason his ability was more frightening. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Anya took his hand in hers and cradled it against her chest. The pump that had replaced her heart years ago hummed softly against his fingers.

Her touch distracted him. He needed a distraction, so he gazed into her pale, heart-shaped face and those chocolate eyes that searched his, looking for signs of distress. Oh, they were there, he didn't doubt it, regardless of how hard he tried to hide them.

But Anya possessed the keen ability to see through his layers of disguise. She'd seen his desperation that day at the café when she discreetly pointed him in the direction of the circus. From that day forward, she had felt responsible for his fate for some reason when, in fact, she'd probably saved his life. He always found it ironic to be protected by a woman whom he could break with one thought.

Nicholas squeezed her delicate fingers and pushed some of his anguish aside. "I'll be fine."

That was a promise he intended to keep.