Enemies(100)

“You’re not really a warm person, are you?”

“Oh, little girl,” Weissman’s voice was low, running over gravel, “I want to make you hurt so bad. I just want to bleed you for a while. I’d like to kill you, but I know how he’d frown on that. So I think I’m just gonna … cut all your tendons from the waist down, rip out your liver and shove it so far down your throat that you’ll never even notice it’s missing, then hang you from a meat hook and let you watch what I do to your friends.”

I didn’t smile as I looked back at Weissman. “How do I beat you to death?”

Weissman’s expression of fury turned to amused disdain. “You can’t. You’d be a fool to try.”

He’s afraid to push his powers because Akiyama will kill him if he stops time for too long, Wolfe whispered. Make him move, make him keep using them, and he’ll get irate, get sloppy. He can’t freeze time for more than a few seconds at a stretch, so if the Doll forces him into a situation where he can’t save himself but by using his powers for longer, the Doll wins.

“But you just said you were going to make me suffer,” I said, smiling at him. “That makes it seem like I don’t have anything to lose.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna make you—”

I sprang to the side, away from him, and the blast of wind that came in my wake swept him up and slammed him into the ceiling. “I’m guessing that being flung in the air isn’t the sort of thing you can just ‘time freeze’ your way out of. Gravity and all that, am I right?”

Weissman hit the ground firmly and squarely on his ass, and I heard the crack of something. “You …”

“Me,” I said, still whirling in motion as another tornado started his way from Reed, who was now on his knees. I bounded toward him, changing direction mid-move, angling toward Reed. I saw Weissman disappear in the second before the tornado hit him and he reappeared just behind Reed, his knife raised.

“Ah, ah, ah,” I said and collided with him just before he could deliver the killing strike. “Shouldn’t shortcut these things,” I said as I cranked his arm back and heard it crack, just before he disappeared again. The only thing that had saved Reed was Weissman’s desire to freeze time as little as possible. I hoped I had broken his wrist. I thought I had. It would pull some joy out of his day.

I saw a flash of movement behind me and I realized that there was a second me, dressed exactly the same, rolling off her feet in the opposite direction I was. Weissman reappeared next to her, and I saw his left hand with the knife in it this time, and he thrust the blade into my doppelganger’s belly. It passed through as easily as if he’d swept it through air, and his face burned with scarlet rage.

“Rakshasa,” Karthik said as he punched Weissman in the back of the head. “Did you enjoy my illusion?”

Weissman rolled to his feet and I saw him twirl the knife in his left hand. He kept his right at an off angle, curled toward him, cradled a little. I knew if I could get hold of it I could hurt him more.

Hurt him, Little Doll. His power requires intense concentration. Without focus, he cannot use it as easily. Give him something else to think about … make him angrier. Make it personal.

Something flashed behind Weissman, and for a second I thought it was him, shifting in time. It took me a second to realize it was Karthik again, another illusion. Weissman sensed it, twitched, turned on pure instinct and flashed as he lashed out—

He missed the tornado that vaulted him into the air from behind, flinging him into the high ceilings of Omega’s bullpen. He came down again with a scream as he was forced to catch himself on his right arm. I nearly winced for him. Instead, I rushed him and slammed my foot into his knee with all the momentum I’d built running toward him. I heard the snap of bone and saw the top of his shin break through skin, giving his pants a bloody stain at the knee.

“Ouch. Pretty sure that’s gonna take time to heal,” I quipped. “So, Weissman, how much time do you have?”

“More than you,” he grunted, and the crackle of electricity filled the air.

“Oh?” I turned as Eleanor Madigan lashed out at me with a bolt of lightning that hit me in the midsection and sent me into the wall. Other flashes lit the room and I heard others flung as well; Reed landed beside me.

“Shit,” he whispered, grunting in pain. “We forgot about the one that craps thunder.”

“I didn’t forget her,” I said, “I just had to delay dealing with her. I thought the guy who could move faster than lightning was more important than the lady who threw it, at least at the time.”