“…Harmon has declared her a hero, responsible for saving the world from a dire threat…”
She barely felt her fingers on Alistair McKinney’s chest, but he was choking now, being ripped out of himself. The little numbers she needed, vis a vis his banking information, came tearing out along with the rest of him, and she knew it was there. He was twitching under her, but she didn’t care; she pushed down on him, the last bits of his mind ripping free of his body now. She couldn’t have pulled a hand off now if she wanted to; her entire self was on fire with pure, uncontained joy—none of that fear that had torn at her when she’d been in the throes of it at the village that night.
This was the beauty of what she had, and she wanted to use it, wanted to do this every time she could.
Rose stood almost as soon as she knew it was over, leaving the corpse of Alistair McKinney behind. The news was still talking, but she didn’t care.
Sienna Nealon.
That name.
Sienna Nealon was the reason she didn’t have a bloody home anymore.
Sienna Nealon was the reason she didn’t have a life anymore.
Sienna Nealon was the reason she couldn’t even think her own thoughts, alone, anymore.
Rose stared at the dark-haired girl, the camera following her as she walked to a car. Then they cut to the US President, Harmon, talking about metahumans, outing them there on international television.
I can’t bloody believe it, Granddad said. A secret that’s lasted countless human generations and he just…throws it out there.
Rose was standing near naked, and for some reason…she no longer felt self-conscious at her skinny body, thin thighs, almost no chest and knock knees. What did that bloody matter, anyway? Any man who touched her was going to get a dose of what Alistair McKinney got, and it’d be all to her joy and none to his.
The world is about to change, Tamhas said. And this girl, this…Sienna Nealon…she’s going to be right at the forefront of it.
“To hell with her,” Rose whispered.
You could be right at the forefront too, Hamilton said. Look at what they’re doing to her: making her out like one of those comic book heroes people are so damned fond of. You could—
“To hell with that,” Rose said, slipping her bra back on. She stooped to get it at the side of the bed where Alistair had dropped it, ignoring his hand hanging limply next to her.
Don’t be stupid, Graham said. She’s a succubus, like you. And she’s got other powers at her disposal—
We should learn how to do that, Granddad said.
“Oh, we’re going to, all right,” Rose said, strangely cold again. She slipped back into the dress which she’d left puddled near the entry and picked up her heels. For some reason, now, when she put it on, she felt…
Different.
You be a good lass, her mam said, sounding a little more tentative than she had with her previous pronouncements. You can have power now. Walk openly now. Do great things—
“To hell with your great things,” Rose said, spewing it out as she walked out the bedroom door and headed for the staircase. “To hell with you all—you clingers, you shites, you. I was worthless to you until your own lives were about to end and then suddenly, suddenly Rose has use again. You’re the plague that is humanity, aren’t you?” She breathed heavily, spite oozing out with every breath, as she walked, with a purpose, to the door.
“Well, now I’ve got money,” she said, “and I’ve got powers—I’ll figure out how to use the powers like this Sienna Nealon.” And she let a mighty fury rage over the souls in her head, and felt them scream in a way they never had before. Usually it was her screaming, but seeing that girl—that Sienna Nealon—she knew, somehow she knew—that determined look in her eyes as she’d been led out of her house—that she needed to be hard. Relentless. That it was all necessary…
In order to destroy Sienna Nealon.
“Everybody who ruined my life is dead except for one,” Rose said, opening the door and casting one last look inside Alistair McKinney’s grand house. Maybe she’d come back, make this place her own. She needed to know things first though—how to use those other powers. How to manipulate others who weren’t as malleable or stupid as Alistair McKinney, for one.
A babble of voices broke out in her head.
You can’t think this is the way— Granddad said.
You can do better, be better— Tamhas said.
You can have the whole world— Hamilton said.
You’re gonna nozz it all up anyway, you wee scunner, Miriam said.
Please don’t do this, Graham said softly.
You’re such a disappointment, Mam said.
“Fuck all of you,” Rose said, hard eyes determined. She’d run this city, run this country, and someday—she wasn’t particular about the when, just that she’d do it—someday she’d bring this Sienna Nealon down on her knees and leave her naked and scared shitless for her own mortality, the way she’d left Rose out at the village. Terror would be the point. She’d need to feel it, really feel it the way Rose had, and then, eventually—
“I’m going to kill her, too,” Rose said, and she walked out the door into the warm Edinburgh night, feeling alive again, and unworried, mind free, for the first time in months.
*
“Oh, God,” Zack said. They were all standing around the scene of Rose’s innocence, lost like a piece of crumpled carbon paper tossed on a fire. He’d watched her make her choices with a steady, growing horror. “This is…”
“It feels like when Sienna killed us, doesn’t it?” Eve asked with an even tenor.
“I watched it happen,” Zack said. “With this…kind of cold horror. She plotted it all out, and came after you one by one. It was like watching someone drive a truck toward a pedestrian, not veering off.”
“And she got us,” Bastian said, looking around the foyer and up the stairs toward where the body remained. “Just like this girl got him.”
“Sienna was more calculating,” Gavrikov said.
“We were pushing her into it, too,” Bjorn said. “Just like these souls moved this Rose.”
“So they’ve got a common thread,” Zack said, looking at their newest addition. Graham hadn’t said much; he looked like a paler shadow of the healthy young man they’d seen in the earlier visions. “More than one, actually.”
“Have you ever been so angry at the world, or at something,” Graham said softly, “that the next thing you ran across that tripped your trigger ended up getting all your ire?” He nodded at the door Rose had shut on her way out. “That’s your girl to Rose. She heard the name, believed the worst, and made her decision. She’s a stubborn one too, not willing to back off it for a moment, even if she had heard something better, something that might change a lesser mind. She’s kept a good mad on for…years now.” Graham shook his head. “Now she’s all in. And your girl…she’s about to be on the way out.”
“This still doesn’t help us,” Harmon said, pacing the foyer. The usually calm politician was starting to show signs of wear. “I expected her to make a slip by now. To let us see…something other than this dull purgatory of her past idiocies.” He let out a hard breath. “I don’t care about her poor, tortured soul. Lots of people have traumas, trust me. I know. This is hardly the worst I’ve seen, but this reaction…‘to hell with the world, to hell with Sienna’—this is a bratty girl being twisted and self-indulgent because she’s discovered she has godlike powers to back up her angst.”
“Makes you grateful Sienna didn’t take a worse turn, huh?” Zack said, a little lighter than he felt. “Especially given the, uh…influences she had on her compared to Rose.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bjorn asked, eyes narrowed.
“It means she’s had a serial killer and you in the forefront of her mind all this time,” Gavrikov said. “And me. Can you imagine a dimmer view of humanity than the one I hold? I don’t care for any of you, save one.”