chapter 21
I’m just saying that male Halflings are stronger than females. That’s all.” Vine shrugged and took another bite of a hot dog.
Winter sighed. If Vine thought he’d convince the three females, he was clueless.
Will chuckled and turned the meat on the backyard grill. “Vine, I’m going to give you a piece of advice. Having lived for thousands of years, I’ve learned one universal rule that has transcended eras and ethnicities. Never tell a female she’s weaker.” Glimmer and Winter both nodded agreement from their sunny perches, stretched out in chaise lounges.
The girls spent most of their waking hours on the back porch now, or congregated in the living room or backyard with the other Halflings, waiting for the faintest scent of trouble. Winter, even though she was better with patience than the other two girls, was starting to feel somewhat like a caged animal — no battle, no hell hounds to fight.
Vegan caressed a wilted plant in a terra-cotta pot.
The enemy had been extremely quiet. And that fact didn’t bode well with Will, Winter could tell. He’d been around too long, seen too much, to look at this as a reprieve.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Glimmer stood, took a hot dog Will offered, and dropped her free hand onto a cocked hip.
Uh-oh. Vine was about to get a lesson in girl power. Will stifled a grin and shared a poor, innocent Vine look with Winter.
Vine shrugged. “It’s obvious males are stronger.” His attention was on his lunch, and with his head down he smeared the bun with ketchup.
Glimmer’s eyes leveled on him. “Is that so?” Her voice deepened to lethal.
The tone brought his head up with a snap. A storm swirled in Glimmer’s gaze.
Hot dog half hanging from his mouth, he chewed quickly and swallowed hard. “Uh.” His eyes flashed an SOS to Will.
Will raised his palms as if to say, “You got yourself into this, get yourself out.”
Vine set the rest of his dog on his plate and rose. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that —”
Glimmer stepped closer, cutting off his exit. “That what?”
He stumbled back a step. Off balance, he plopped into the chair. “Um. Just that …” His gaze darted around the back patio looking for help. But Glimmer, Winter, and Vegan outnumbered him, and Will was neutral. Vine’s only possibly ally, Raven, had disappeared inside to get a root beer.
“Well, males were originally angels. And the females were human. So, I mean, it makes sense. Angels are stronger than humans.” His flashed a quick smile, hoping he’d diffused the situation.
“So true,” Glimmer agreed, sweetly. She batted her eyes, just before they turned to ice. “Let’s go out in the yard and put your ideas to the test.”
“I wouldn’t,” Raven said, stepping onto the patio with a half grin on his face. “Don’t let that little-boy-lost demeanor fool you. Vine is an expert warrior. One of the best I’ve ever seen.”
Vine threw him a grateful look that replaced the deer-in-the-headlights one.
Vegan, who’d been watering the nearly dead potted plant, placed the greenery on the porch. “Glimmer is a marksman. With bow and arrow, she can nail any target from over a hundred yards away.”
Raven laughed and dropped into one of the deck chairs. He popped the top on his root beer. “That’s got to be helpful in hand-to-hand combat,” he said, wryly, and slurped the liquid from the can. “Which, by the way, is what we’re involved in nine times out of ten. For those of us who’ve seen much battle.”
Glimmer drew a quick gulp of air. “We’ve seen plenty of battle. Haven’t we, Winter?”
“Like Will, I’m staying out of this one.”
Raven’s lips curled into a sadistic grin. “I’m sure you’ve seen plenty, Glimmer. From your safe hundred-yard distance. Look, we’ve seen you fight. Honestly, you could stand to brush up a little.”
Vegan faced off with Raven, Glimmer with Vine. Four perfect bodies, taut and ready to fight. Will shook his head while electricity crackled on the patio. If anyone were walking by, they’d swear an actual storm brewed around the Victorian home. Will heaved a breath. “Teenagers,” he mumbled. But the skirmish was interrupted when Mace threw the patio door open. “Has anyone seen Nikki?”
Winter stood. “Yes. Two hours ago she told me she was going to lie down for a while. She’s in her room.”
“No, she’s not.”
Zero wouldn’t cry again — he’d promised himself. For countless hours, they’d taken turns beating him and he could feel life slipping away. He tried to wriggle his fingers. Yes, still working.
A cold, concrete floor inside a jail cell-sized cage was his new home. The entire room had finally emptied of people, and he was alone. He tipped his head up in an attempt to assess the extent of his injuries. Every muscle ached with each breath, but he willed himself to draw the next. He could taste blood through lips too swollen to be his own. His limbs were bruised and maybe some were broken. Wounds took longer and longer to heal. This is worse than death.
After the last beating, he’d been thrown behind the thick metal bars. Titanium, of course. Sitting on the floor beyond the cage, and just beyond his reach, was a glass of water. He scooted painfully to the bars, lugging his dead weight. He couldn’t move his lower body, so he pulled himself forward with his hands, dragging his legs behind him like a kite tail.
Am I paralyzed? He forced the terrifying thought from his mind. Zero, the gimpy-legged Halfling. As if he wasn’t enough of a misfit already.
At the bars, his head fell forward until it was resting against the cool metal. He could feel the titanium zapping what strength he had, but the water was so close. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on Vegan. He couldn’t access her face. Or her laugh. With his eyes closed, all he saw was fist after fist coming at him, paired with the clatter of bones cracking and breaking, and the scent of blood.
A chair scraping the floor drew his attention. He turned his sore neck toward the noise.
Expensive, pointed-toe shoes. Perfectly worn-in jeans. Until the guy squatted — putting himself at Zero’s level. If only I could raise my head enough to make out a face. The guy must have been in the chair until he’d come closer, quietly sitting there watching the Halfling suffer. Now he was about five feet away, sitting on his haunches and studying his captive.
“We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Damon Vessler,” the man said, hands planted on his knees. His gaze roamed over Zero. “Oh dear. It would seem as though my boys got out of hand. I’m terribly sorry.” He smiled as if apologizing for bumping into someone at the grocery store. “Now” — he tilted back slightly — “you must be the one they call Zero. I hear you run the network.”
Zero swallowed dry, sandpaper air and glanced at the glass of water.
“Would you like that?” Vessler pointed. “Tell you what, share a bit of information with me and I’ll give you the water.”
“Give me the water,” Zero rasped. “And I’ll use the glass to slit your throat.”
Vessler’s nostrils flared. “You’re not playing very nice.” He pulled a gold toothpick from his shirt pocket and slid it into his mouth. “Doesn’t Zero mean nothing?” Vessler’s eyes flashed. “One minus one?”
“Yeah,” Zero said in a hoarse whisper. “And you want information from me. What does that make you?” He chuckled, winced. “Oh, I know. Less than Zero.”
Vessler shoved off the floor. Smooth leather shoes stepped toward the glass of water. Drawing back, he kicked it at Zero.
Glass shattered when it hit the bars. He closed his eyes in time to avoid the shards as they flew at him. Water and bits of broken glass splashed his face.
“What was all that computer equipment doing in your underground space? Is that where you run the network?” Vessler demanded. “And what’s the network’s purpose?”
Zero sucked the bits of water from his lips. “Computers? Is that what those were? I thought they were just bulky paperweights.”
Vessler erupted. “Don’t play games with me, boy!”
Zero grinned. “That’s Lost Boy.”
Vessler strode to the bars, grabbed Zero’s arms, and yanked. Zero’s head clanged against the titanium, sending a shock wave through his already-aching system. Again, he tried to conjure the image of Vegan.
Vessler grabbed him by the throat. “Tell me what you know.”
Choking, Zero tried to pry his fingers beneath Vessler’s powerful hand. Vessler squeezed harder.
Black spots materialized before his eyes. Everything started to fade … fade … “All right,” he said, words barely a whisper. “I’ll tell you.”
Vessler dropped to his knees to look Zero eye to eye. “What do you know?”
“I know …” Zero rubbed a hand across his throat. “I know …”
Vessler’s gaze was wild as he visibly held his breath.
“I know … zero.” He slid back from the bars before Vessler could grab him.
Vessler roared and thrust his arm through the bars. Face wedged against the titanium, he managed to snag Zero’s collar and the necklace beneath, using both to drag him back to the bars. After manacling Zero’s wrists, Vessler dropped to the floor, pressed his feet against the cage, and jerked Zero’s head into the bars again and again.
Slam after slam, Zero felt metal smash his face and collarbone. Finally, Vessler stopped, focusing with terrifying steadiness on the necklace from Vegan. Zero began reconsidering his vow not to bawl, because if Vessler knew how to use the necklace, Vegan could be drawn into this pit as well. Zero couldn’t let that happen. He had to protect her.
“What’s this?” Vessler asked, back to his sorry-I-bumped-into-you-at-the-grocery-store voice. “Did your mother make that for you?”
Zero’s face, arms, and shoulder hurt so bad he thought every bone must be shattered. But how could he resist such an opportunity? “News flash, Einstein. We’re orphans.” He coughed. Searing pain jolted him with each movement. “Gotta hand it to you on the beating, though. You’re pretty strong. Bet you’re taking steroids.” He tsked. “Nasty thing, those steroids, but I hear all Halfling wannabes do them.”
Vessler shook with anger.
“Hey, I don’t blame you. If I was just a human, I’d be upset too. Can’t leap, can’t fly. No ability to heal yourself. It’s okay that you want to be like us. It’s just sad that you never will. Sorry, poser.”
Vessler’s nostrils flared.
“Poser. You know, someone who poses as something they’re not. Halfling wannabe. Or should I just call you Wannaling?”
Vessler’s veins began popping from his neck and arms. He grabbed the necklace from Zero’s throat and threw it to the floor. “You know nothing of my plan.”
The pearled amulet broke. Thank the Throne; Zero would rather die than put Vegan in harm’s way. “Really, Vessler? I know you’re genetically altering horses.”
“And do you know why?” Vessler dragged the chair over and sat. “Technology is a dangerous partner. It can let you down if you become too dependent on it.”
Zero glanced behind Vessler, where a line of computers and medical equipment sat at the ready. “For a guy who doesn’t like technology, you certainly have enough of it surrounding you.”
“For a purpose. Technology is destined to implode. And do you know what will matter most when it does?”
“Enlighten me,” Zero said, coughed, then pressed a hand to his ribs to block the pain shooting through them.
“Whoever carries the biggest sticks.”
Zero rolled his eyes. “Right. And mutant horses can carry really big sticks. Do you want to call the loony bin or should I?” Every inch of him hurt, but if he could keep Vessler talking, maybe he’d reveal his plan.
“The horses will carry my army of Darklings.”
Zero scoffed. “Darklings? Are you kidding me?” But on the inside, his heart dropped. This is how Nikki fit into Vessler’s plan. And the horses made some sense, in a way. But Vessler wasn’t telling all his secrets, because horses against tanks … well, no chance there. His mind went back to the technology statement—how it was destined to implode — and with terrible clarity he saw the other end of Vessler’s plan, how the electromagnetic studies the Halflings had uncovered on the Omega computers played into the world domination agenda. All at once, he felt sick and frustrated by his helplessness. Just keep it together, Zero. “That sounds like a bad sci-fi movie title, dude. I think you better lay off the He-Man drugs. They’re affecting your brain.”
Before Vessler walked from the room, he ground his heel into the necklace. The bits of glass crunched until only powder was left.
After he left, Zero tried to reach the dust that remained. Pressing a shattered cheek into the bars, he stretched, but his index finger barely touched the broken leather cord. “Come on,” he whispered. And tried again. But just like Vegan, the necklace was out of reach.
Finally, he gave up. Hopelessness overtook him. He dropped his head and let the tears fall.