Riley notices the ball of green flame balanced on Nitro’s hands. He shrinks back, looking more like wall art than a human being.
“You’re crazy! And you need to leave before I call the SHPD.” He looks at Rebel meaningfully. “Leave my sister and Kenna here, and get the hell out.”
“We’ll leave when you grow a conscience and tell us what we need to know,” Draven says. “Until then, we’re not going anywhere.”
“No way. I’ll never talk, no matter how much you torture me.”
“Torture?” Draven asks incredulously. “We’re not the ones with a history of torture. I think you’ve got us confused with your hero friends.”
Riley narrows his eyes at him. “Heroes don’t torture.”
“They do,” I blurt out. “I saw it at the lab. You don’t know how important it is that you tell us where the bunker is. We have to find them or people are going to die. My mom could die, Riley. They took her. Heroes took her.”
“Why would heroes take your mom? She works for us.” He shakes his head. “We’re the good guys.”
“Good guys?” Dante tells him, stepping forward. “Good guys? Are you serious right now?” His fist slams into Riley’s stomach and Rebel’s brother doubles over.
Dante hits him again and again. Riley is no match for his strength or fury.
“Stop!” I shout, grabbing his arm, but Dante’s out of control.
“Back off, man,” Draven tells his cousin. “This isn’t the way to get him to talk.”
“Sure it is,” Dante says. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll get the little pipsqueak to give up everything he knows.”
Riley drops to the floor, cowering. Dante pulls back a fist, ready to hit him again.
But Draven pushes his cousin away. “We’re not like them. We don’t do the things they do.”
“Deacon.” Dante sounds shattered.
“I swear, we’ll find out where he is,” Draven promises. “But not like this. Never like this.”
He crouches next to Riley, eyes narrowed and hands clenched with restraint.
“Riley, tell him!” I urge. It feels like time is running out. “Please.”
Images of Deacon flash before my eyes again. Riley’s willful ignorance is killing me, knowing that my own ignorance let the superheroes get away with too much for too long. But I see the truth now, and even one person can make a difference. Right now, that person has to be me.
After all, only a few days ago I was just like Riley.
I try to reason with him. “We know that the lab has been shut down and the most important experiments have been moved to this bunker. We know that the heroes have been torturing the villains for—”
“That’s not true!” Riley gasps. “We’re not torturing them.”
“Liar!” Draven shoves Riley hard enough that his head bangs against the wall.
“I saw it, Riley. I saw what they were doing, and I saw the dead villains—”
“Accidents,” he says. “Mistakes. Every great program has them.”
“Great program?” Dante repeats. He looks like he’s about to lose his tenuous grip on his powers, and I don’t blame him. Riley sounds completely insane—not to mention totally heartless. “You think torturing my twin is part of some great program like the Peace Corps? Like Doctors without Borders? Yeah, you guys are real humanitarians.”
“You. Are. Killing. People!” Nitro adds.
“Not on purpose!”
Draven snaps. He doesn’t touch Riley, doesn’t hurt him, but he leans forward until his face is only inches from the hero’s.
Riley’s eyes widen as he recognizes Draven’s power, sees those blue eyes crystallize with memory control. Rebel’s brother squeezes his eyes tight, blocking out the psy access to his mind.
Draven doesn’t seem to care. He leans closer, whispers something in Riley’s ear. I can only catch a few of the words, but they sound a lot like pain and own medicine and death is too easy.
Riley shakes, trying to curl in on himself.
Clearly Draven doesn’t need to use his power to break Riley’s brain. And still he keeps talking, whispering new threats.
Riley holds a hand to his nose to staunch the sudden blood flow.
My mind screams at me that there has to be a better way, but I don’t move. I don’t intercede. I don’t do anything but watch as the darkness washes over Draven.
It’s a tangible thing, which fascinates me even as it freaks me out. There’s a shift in the way he holds his body, in how he transforms from fighter to predator. A sharpness in his eyes, a clenching in his jaw, a vibe that rolls off him, pumping electricity into the air, into me.
It frightens me, the way I’m responding to him. Not to mention the fact that the whole room seems as spellbound as I am, like we’re all just waiting to see what he does next. I know Draven doesn’t want to hurt Riley; he just wants to scare him. But I also know that if Draven loses control like he did with the guards, we’ll all be sorry.
With that thought in mind, I crouch next to Draven and rest a hand on his lower back. A shudder runs through him.