He stopped halfway up, standing on one beam while gripping another to hold himself upright. He didn’t think he had ever been this high up before. His stomach lurched when he looked straight down. Being activated wouldn’t save him from a fall like this. From here, he could see teams of militia moving through the station. There were still so many. He squinted, trying to spot any Adrenalites. There was one to the south and another two back towards the entrance of the station. Surely there had to be more still fighting. But he couldn’t see any. Where had Candle gone?
Sparks spied the largest pack of militia, maybe thirty in total, crossing a quad. Heading towards the centre of the station. Towards him.
Sparks grinned as he began to climb down. Juliette had to be amongst that group. That’s where she would be safest. But it wouldn’t matter even if she was protected by a hundred militia. Sparks was the best fighter in Legacy, and he was coming for her.
Spencer’s head burst open. Blood sprayed across the wall, the floor, and the pages of the book he had been reading. Roman stood motionless. Shocked. And angry. Spencer was no use as hostage now. Coming here had been a waste of time. Time that Roman didn’t have.
He turned to face the doorway he had come through. What had happened to Tan? Roman closed his eyes, listening. The crack of Spencer’s gunshot still rung in his ears, but he also heard footsteps.
A voice Roman didn’t recognize called down the hallway. “Ashton?”
Roman kept silent as he retreated to shadows in the corner of the room, next to Spencer’s corpse. Blood pooled around his boots. From the doorway came blue light, contrasting against the orange candlelight inside the room.
“Ashton?” The voice called again. Closer now.
An Adrenalite stepped into the doorway. He was so big he barely fit through the door frame, and his thick black hair hung down to his shoulders. He glowed the darkest blue that Roman had seen, and his trails of light covering him were so thick almost his entire body glowed. His arms and chest were covered in blood.
“Don’t you fucking move,” Roman said, stepping forward and aiming his pistol at the Adrenalite’s chest.
The newcomer didn’t even look at him, his eyes were locked onto Spencer, his expression twisting into a scowl. “You killed Spencer.”
Roman’s grip tightened. “You’re Candle, aren’t you?”
The Adrenalite ignored him. “He was a good man, and you killed him.”
Then Roman noticed it — the thin spike of metal embedded in the Adrenalite’s shoulder. Roman had no doubt who had shot him. “Is Tan alive?”
“Who?”
“The man guarding the door. Did you kill him?”
“You killed Spencer. Fair is fair.”
“You’re lying,” Roman growled. This was Candle, it had to be. His finger itched on the trigger, eager to shoot. But he restrained himself. Maybe Gavin would give Ruby back if Roman brought back Candle’s corpse, but Roman couldn’t risk it, not with Ruby’s life at stake. He needed Candle alive.
That spike in Candle’s shoulder, how long would it take to deactivate him? Roman had to distract him long enough for it to take effect.
Candle finally turned to him. “You’re Roman. The bounty hunter. You’re Juliette’s—”
“Shut up. Did you kill Tan?”
“This is a war. People die.”
“Not my people.”
Candle stepped into the room. “Don’t try play the hero with me. I know what you are.”
“You don’t know shit about me.”
Candle’s light began to fade.
And Roman finally noticed the three Adrenaline needles strapped to Candle’s forearms — he would be able to reactivate himself instantly. That changed things. Roman aimed the gun at Candle’s leg and fired. In a blur, Candle spun to the right. He was fast. Roman didn’t have time to react before Candle was right in front of him.
Roman ducked a punch. But a moment later a second blow caught him in the gut. He stumbled back, winded.
Candle’s light had gone completely. He ripped an activation needle off his forearm and—
Roman cracked Candle across the jaw with the butt of his pistol. Candle dropped to one knee, the needle falling to the ground. Roman stomped his foot down, shattering it.
One down.
Candle grabbed him by the thigh. The next thing Roman knew he was in the air, spinning backwards. He landed on his back, shock running down his spine, staring up at the roof. Fighting the wave of dizziness, Roman sprang back to his feet. Candle had another activation needle in his hand, about to insert it into his forearm.
Roman barrelled into him, one hand closing around the syringe and squeezing it until the glass fractured in his hand. Two down. Candle lashed out with his elbow, digging it into Roman’s ribs. Roman doubled over, gasping for breath.
Even deactivated, he’s fast. Roman dodged to the side as another punch flew past him, then leapt back to avoid a high kick. Candle pressed his advantage, pushing Roman back with a series of rapid jabs. Roman watched for an opportunity for a counter-attack. Candle didn’t give him one. Roman retreated another two steps until his back hit the wall.
A kick caught Roman in his left hip and all the strength left his legs. He fell to the ground. He didn’t even see the blow that caught him in the chest. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. The room seemed to spin around him. And then Candle was pinning him to the ground, one hand around Roman’s throat, the other pinning his right hand.
Roman struggled to twist out of Candle’s grip, his free hand punching Candle in the ribs, once, twice, three times. Candle didn’t budge.
“This is justice,” Candle spat. “For every Adrenalite you gave to Juliette.”
They deserved it, Roman tried to retort, but he couldn’t get the words out of his blocked throat. Why the fuck did all his fights end in him being strangled? Candle tightened his grip. His face was curled in a scowl of rage. Lit by the orange candlelight, he looked like a monster straight out of a nightmare.
Roman’s chest felt ready to collapse. He needed air. Now.
32
Sparks crept across the rooftop, keeping just out of sight of the militia below. He had to be careful – staying out of sight was hard when you were literally a source of light.
The pack of militia weren’t in a rush. They walked through the station confidently, clustered together around Juliette. It was easy for Sparks to recognize her. The tangle of brown hair. The thin, bony face. He had never forgotten her face since she had watched him being branded. The way she had looked at him like he was nothing more than a stray dog.
But he couldn’t strike now, there were too many militia down there, even for him. It would be suicide to try. So he waited, crouching out of sight as he stalked them. He would get his chance. And he would take it.
Sparks risked another glance. They were nearing the centre of the station, heading towards a large quad, empty except for a single white building. Its door had been smashed in. When the militia were halfway across the quad, Sparks climbed down to the ground. He ducked behind a pile of rusted steel beams, watching…
…and growing impatient.
One thing left to do: Roman reached to the side and grabbed one of the burning candles. Hot wax poured through his fingers as he shoved the flame into Candle’s eye. Candle howled in pain, pulling away, releasing Roman’s neck.
Gasping to reclaim his breath, Roman twisted out from beneath Candle and climbed to his feet. The wax still scalded his fingers. It hurt like a bitch. He didn’t want to imagine how it felt getting it in the eye.