Archon's Queen (21 page)

Five doors later, she caught up to her friends. They stopped halfway through the car, facing away from the forward end to duck the gaze of a pair of constables by the door. The Filth’s body armor had hardware capable of detecting a skimmer if they got too close, but it would look suspicious if Spawny saw police and retreated.

He eyed the cops via their reflection in the window. “They’re watchin’ us. Hey you two lock lips, give ‘em somethin’ to really stare at.”

“Do you want to see my lunch again that badly? She’s like my sister.”

Penny grabbed her, kissing her on the lips before whispering. “Do you want your sister in jail for ten years?”

It could have been the motion of the tram or a fragile stomach already upset from her body’s demand for zoom. The thought of crossing tongues with a woman somewhere between sister and surrogate mum was the last straw that caused the taste of her lunch to burble in the back of her throat. She tried to steel herself, focusing on the thought of Penny getting carted off for skimming. Her mind retreated behind a curtain of logic―do this or Penny goes to jail. Blake had rented her to both men and women, and she forced the thought of who she was with out of her mind and let Penny lead. Spawny behaved as if he was filming them, muttering like a director, holding the skimmer up as though it were a camera.

You cheeky bastard.

In a few minutes, the Met lost interest and went forward through the tram.

Anna let her head fall onto Penny’s shoulder. “I should have skipped the pickles.”

Penny patted her on the back and said soothing things. Holographic adverts slid through the maglev’s windows, accented by the occasional bot brave enough to fly up alongside in an effort to gain the attention of a passenger. By the time they slid into the next station, Anna had gotten a firm grip on her food. They disembarked, eager to avoid the police, but Spawny could not help himself and walked a skim past the people waiting to board the train.

“Oi!” A man shouted.

Spawny ducked the hand reaching for his shoulder, evading the grip of a seven-footer in a heavy black trenchcoat emblazoned with the silver outline of a cross down his entire back, filled with thorns and roses. He squealed when two more men in similar coats, though not as tall, spun about and growled.

He took off at a full sprint, the rubberized soles of his shoes squeaking on the metal of the maglev platform. Penny ran after him, down the switchback stairs to the street level.

A flash of adrenaline chased away some of the knots in her muscles; Anna brought up the rear, moving like a parking lot extra from a bad holo-vid about zombies. Penny caught up to him and grabbed his hand, running together ahead of the three Crossmen who pursued without a word.

The chase spanned the length of two blocks before an ill-chosen left turn stranded them in a dead end alley, among stinking hulks of restaurant trash compactors. Spawny skidded to a halt at the bricked over fence at the end, grabbing Penny by the hips and hauling her up. The widest of the Crossmen checked him into the barrier, smashing the air from his lungs and sending him sliding to the ground.

Penny’s grip failed, and she fell into the waiting arms of the seven-foot man. He threw her like a slab of meat into the grip of his mate, who stepped back with the flailing woman held fast.

“So friend, you fink you kin skim the Crossmen, eh?” He drove a massive boot into Spawny’s side, flipping him over onto his back. “I’m gonna beat seven shades of shite out of ya. Hope you got a box ta put yer hampsteads in when I’m done with ya.”

Spawny howled, lurching to his feet and punching the huge man straight in the jowls. Beard shadow bunched up over his fist, hardly moving the skull behind it. The attack made the huge shaven-headed Crossman grin wider.

“Not bad, mate. My turn.” With that, he slugged the stunned man in the face, bouncing his skull off the wall.

Spawny fell with the grace of a limp noodle to the pavement.

“Stop, please don’t kill him!” Penny kicked and thrashed, pleading. “You can take it all, just don’t kill him.”

“Damn right we’re gonna take it all, right after we’re done with yer little toy-boy.”

Anna stopped a few meters back, her arrival splashed audible through the puddled ground. Three soft pops came out of the darkness to the left, followed by an inexplicable spout of water from a pothole as if someone had dropped a rock into it.

The tall ganger paused, shook his head, blinked, and continued kicking Spawny in the gut. Penny took advantage of the momentary disorientation of the Crossmen cornering her and tried to run. He snapped out of it and shoved her back to the street. The third man spun towards the sound of the splash and spotted her.

“Looks like we got a bonus, mates. This one’s worth a squirt as well.”

Anna, mesmerized by the distant rattle of a metal ladder, did not react as his arms circled around her chest, squeezing her paralyzed. It felt unreal, like a dream. The withdrawal had gone from hypersensitivity to numbness, she knew she could not move her arms or walk away from where she was held. The exact reason of why dangled over her conscious mind like a treat held out of the reach of a dog.

She stared at the hands clasped together over her stomach without recognition of what they were or that they had anything to do with her immobility.

“Yearrrgh.” Spawny howled, leaping up with a series of rapid punches to the big man’s groin.

The tower doubled over, wheezing. Taking the opening, Spawny kicked him in the face and bloodied his nose. Like a rabid Chihuahua, the wiry man leapt and dove at the one holding Penny.

He shrugged over Penny, giving Spawny his back and all but ignored the barrage. When he’d had enough, he flung Penny face-first into the metal wall of a Greek café. She wobbled to the ground as the Crossman grabbed Spawny by the jacket and held him up over his head before driving him chest-first into the wet pavement.

Barely able to breathe, Spawny rolled onto his side in time to catch the sole of a boot in the stomach.

Anna became aware of a rough hand squeezing her right breast. With solid pants on, her nether bits seemed too difficult a target for a quick feel. The one holding her had slipped his mitt up under her shirt and worked her tit like a lump of dough.

She made a face as if that act was so minor a breach of etiquette it left her unsure if it really warranted a reaction. The detachment removed her from the now, as if she watched it happen to someone else. Anna looked at the undulating fabric, wincing as he squeezed too hard. Realizing it was her flesh under assault, she squirmed. Her attempt at a scream ended with a hand over her mouth.

Her protest weak and ineffective, the man forced her to the side and bent her over a row of trashcans. The harder she struggled, the greater the cruelty with which the fingers dug into her breast. His left hand crushed into the base of her neck. Growling, she shoved and squirmed. The man was far too strong and heavy; her palms slipped over the rain-spattered lids rather than pushed her up.

“Leave it out.” She pawed at his arm, trying to get his claws out of her chest. “You’re gonna tear my tit off.”

This was not a police checkpoint; she had no reason at all to surrender to these men, but her withdrawal-wracked body lacked the strength to care. Anna closed her eyes and went limp, half hoping they would kill her afterward. A hand slid into her pants, icy cold against her most intimates. It shocked her conscious enough to notice Penny’s sobbing in the dark. No longer only her, the person she cared about most in the entire miserable world suffered with her. She tried to get away from the touch, but his weight crushed her into the refuse bins as hot breath slid over the left side of her face.

“Noice and yummy, the clam ain’t got no beard. Moi favorite.”

Anna growled as fingers pressed tighter. Drops of sweat fell on her head as he panted like a dog. His other hand crushed her cheek against cold metal. Anna
could
protect herself; she could protect Penny, but she would have to kill them all, and how would Spawny react? How would Penny react if she saw what Anna could
really
do?

Penny’s pleading scream made up her mind. If Anna sat there feeling sorry for herself, her only friend would be forever damaged. It didn’t matter if the CSB got wind of her. It didn’t matter what Spawny thought. She couldn’t let then hurt Penny. She had to do
something.

Anna drew a breath and opened her mind to the air around her. She pulled at static electricity, amplifying it into arcs that swam over her for an instant, crackling like spider-legs between the metal trash bin and the wet ground. She gathered the sense of the power, calling the lightning into her body and focusing it into the hands touching her. The unmistakable smell of burnt skin surrounded her.

The man flew backwards and smashed into the wall on the other side of the alley. A twitching unconscious heap hit the ground atop bagged refuse. Anna stood and turned, cradling her aching breast in both hands for a moment before she fixed her belt closed. She shuddered with shame and anger, rage growing as she fought the memory of his touch. Anna lost her hesitation, knowing she needed more power to kill. Twenty meters away, a streetlamp flickered and sent a spark snaking into the watery ground.

Anna called it to her; the erratic serpent climbed her legs and wrapped around her chest. Electrical energy built up on her skin, hot and tingly. Her lip curled with contempt and her right hand came up, palm facing the man who had groped her. An intense bolt of lightning seared a black trench over his chest, drawing foam from his mouth and turning his closed eyes into swollen purple masses.

Two great arcs snapped like whips through the air, connecting the streetlamp to Anna’s back as she drew more power.

Penny screamed again. Anna’s gaze shot to the left. The second Crossmen had her bent over a trash bin, dress lifted. Her desperate struggle had thus far frustrated his progress at doing anything more than molesting her with his hands. The rumble of the fatal bolt through the alley drew his attention, and left him gawping at Anna while crushing Penny into a rubbish bin.

“Get off her.” Anna snarled, her already dark glare accented by little blue sparks crawling over her face.

The Crossman tightened his grip on Penny’s hair, as if to use her as a human shield. “Who the fuck are you talking to, bint?”

Anna narrowed her eyes. “A soon-to-be dead man.”

A wail came from Penny as he torqued her hair back.

Penny scrabbled at her coat, going for the knife she kept in the pocket. While the man holding her stared at Anna, she flicked the blade out and plunged it into the Crossman’s thigh with a savage cry, part growl, part shriek. Roaring in pain, he bounced her head off the bin and staggered back as she slumped to the ground.

Anna took a step forward. “Oh bugger all. You just pissed me off, fucko.”

Anger surged through her, pulling a lingering spark from the streetlamp. It struck her between the shoulder blades, sizzling for several seconds. She forced the current to wrap over her limbs, basking in the warm rippling surge as she channeled the electricity around her arms and projected it at someone she wanted to kill―no,
erase
from existence. The bolt went straight for the metal blade embedded in his leg. Penny dragged herself against the wall, wide-eyed as the arc connecting the streetlamp to Anna to the ganger lit the dead end lit bright as day for several seconds.

The scent ozone overwhelmed the air.

He went stiff as a plank on his feet, and fell face down with smoke peeling from his mouth.

The Tower stopped using Spawny’s gut for Frictionless practice and stared at her. It took him only seconds to decide to haul ass, and he jumped for the fence Penny had failed to climb.

“Where you goin’?” Spawny coughed and spat up blood. “I ain’t done wif you yet.”

Anna thrust her arms out, letting white-blue arcs snap from her fingertips to his back. The shock launched him from the wall. He landed on his back in a large puddle, legs draped over Spawny. Anna stalked closer, arms out to the sides, fingers splayed. She called; more electricity streamed from the air handler on the Greek restaurant and mains power lines on the other side. Anna glowed with crackling light at the center of a nimbus of energy.

The Tower moaned and rolled over in the puddle, staggering upright. He yanked a truncheon from his belt and growled at Anna.

She returned the noise, a mouse taunting a lion.

Penny’s distant whimpering fanned the fire of her anger. Dozens of small sparks connected her hands to the puddle, the steady whip-crack of lightning drowned out the last Crossman’s screams. A thick, scintillating shaft of lightning leapt from each of her outstretched arms, lapping up his legs from knee to groin before they met at his chest. The alley walls shimmered in the flickering radiance, and the odor of seared flesh filled the area.

Faltering noises emanated from the air handler as she drained it to the point of temporary shutdown. She grunted from exertion, roaring and crying, pouring all of her shame and resentment into the blast. When the crackling and flashing ceased, she sagged forward and fell to her knees. The alley seemed darker than it was before her attack. The Crossman stood deflated, arms slack at his sides and legs apart, smoke peeled from his mouth. Eyes half-closed, he remained still for a few seconds before falling forward with a wet
splat
.

All the power she’d taken from the environment was gone; she bent forward and retched her stomach empty.

Spawny shifted around, holding his stomach, aghast at the dead man nearby. Penny sniffled, not moving from where she’d fallen.

“Jesus fucking H,” whispered Spawny, before he coughed up blood. With one elbow, he dragged himself closer to the women and scrunched up his face at the breeze. “You’re right, luv. You should’a skipped the pickles.”

Anna vomited again.

Penny scrambled to her feet and pushed her dress back to rights.

“Your smalls are showin’.” Anna pointed at the cloth around her ankles.

Penny blushed and fixed them in place.