"I was wondering what kind of girl could have botched up a rescue attempt so badly. Now that I know it was you all along, everything makes sense."
"Go away."
Rome runs his nose down the side of my face, smiling at the way I shiver. "After all thes...
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Whereas the first floor of Wasteland is a diner, the second floor has an atmosphere resembling more of a bar. Instead of plushy chairs and hot coffee, the bar has pulsing lights and cold beer. It's just as populated as the first floor, but home to many of the more rowdier supers.
Like Nick.
Already transformed into his shapeshifter form - a giant bull - he rams into a man with large sunglasses, knocking him into the opposite wall. People, half of them already drunk, cheer and clap. Some of them even stand up on their chairs to catch the action.
Nick's opponent, a man with red that flickers in his eyes, stands up. His pupils turn bright orange.
"Uh oh," Somebody says.
Uh oh, indeed.
Laser beams shoot out out of the man's eyes, sending a heat wave through the floor. People duck out of the way. It hits Nick on his left arm, sending off the scent of burnt flesh and smokey fur. The bull rears back with its nostrils flaring.
"Stop," I call, pushing my way through. "Both of you, stop!"
The people near the back part automatically to let me through. Fights between supers, especially on the second floor, are in my jurisdiction. It's not unusual to see me break them up - since I do it almost every week.
"Stop," I repeat, reaching the front.
Nick's opponent shows no sign of following orders. Heat flickers in his eyes again. Before he can blast of another leaser beam, I grab a pitcher of beer and throw it in his eyes. He yelps and tumbles to the floor. Behind me, Nick huffs and attempts to buck around me. I block him.
"Enough."
He points his horns towards me threateningly, a ball of fury and fur.
I cross my arms. "Elliot's going to be here any minute. Do you think he's going to be happy when he sees you like this?"
That does the trick.
With something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, Nick bows down and returns to his knees. The brown bull with curved gold horns transforms, leaving a man with bronze skin and a spectrum piercing in its place.
Part of Nick's leather superhero costume is burnt off, leaving a red spot behind. I note, with relief, that his opponent's laser beams don't create burn beyond the second-degree.
"He hit me," Despite his low and heavy voice, Nick sounds like a five-year old. "It burns."
