My brother’s voice was staticky over the phone.

  That happens sometimes. My electrical aura interfered with radio signals and the like. I sighed and pulled some of the energy inward. I’d been keeping my electrical senses pretty spread out lately, trying to catch any hint of danger coming my way. My instincts told me something bad was on the horizon. “What was that?”

  “C’mon, Shay. You gotta come. It’s my debut.” This was the fifth time we’d had this conversation. I’d been dodging it for a week now. “I need my big bro there.”

  “Dom, do you need Shay there?” I asked, my voice tired. “Or do you need Thunderblast?” It wasn’t a card I liked to play. Hell, I didn’t even like thinking about it. But I was also on edge and I didn’t want to bring any of that down on Dom.

  “It ain’t like that,” Dom said a little too quickly. “ ‘sides, it’s not like you’re different people. Everybody already knows.” I rubbed my eyes, willing the tension behind them to go away. I had a headache. I’d had one for a couple of days. Extra strain from keeping my senses extended so far.

  “He’s just sitting there, talking on the phone. Been there ‘bout twenty minutes,” I heard distantly. I schooled my face and didn’t look down the block. I knew there was an old, blue Crown Vic with two cops in plainsclothes sitting there watching me.

  There’d been at least one tailing me at all times for the last week. Every time I’d shake them by cutting through an alley, or across a building, they’d show back up. I suspected I knew what it was about. The new DA was cracking down on vigilantes and I’d already made a name for myself. Not one that he’d appreciate. I hadn’t had a chance to ask Kari, Chuck, or Jenny if they’d also been tailed. It wasn’t exactly something I could do over the phone. If they’re tailing me, they almost certainly have my phone tapped.

  “Shay?” My brother’s voice cut in, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice. “You listening, man?”

  “Sorry, Dom.” I meant it. Guilt tightened my throat. “Normally, I’d be there in a heartbeat. You know that.”

  “Then be there!” He insisted. I sighed.

  “Right now, I might bring shit down on you and your debut that you don’t need right now, little bro.” I said, not able to keep all of the irritation out of my voice. “Not during the debut of your new album.”

  “What do you mean?” He asked through a laugh. “I thought you were the big, bad Thunderblast! Here to bring justice and pop lightbulbs randomly.”

  “That’s kinda the problem,” I muttered.

  “Bring your trouble. They’ll learn that they can’t push me around.” The cockiness drained out of his voice. “C’mon, Shay. There’ll be drinks and girls. It’ll be a good time.” I tried to put up a front, but I wanted to go. Since these pigs had been tailing me, I hadn’t been out. Not even on patrol. Figured it was better to give them nothing rather than play into whatever stupid assumptions they had. But I felt cooped up. I’d finished building the old vacuum tube TV, I’d listened to a bunch of albums, and I’d cleaned my entire apartment. Twice. Hell, the only reason I was at Gentrification Coffee right now was because I needed some air. To be out in the world for a moment.

  “Alright,” I said, deflating.

  “Thank you!” Dom exclaimed loudly. “You won’t regret it.”

  “Yeah. But I’m bringing a friend.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Oh?” Dom asked, hesitation plain in his voice. I could almost picture his silly face. “Do I know them?”

  “Nah, but you should,” I tried to reassure him. “It’s Jenny.”

  “From the block?” He joked. I rolled my eyes.

  “The Cannonneer.” I said, without emotion. Jenny could probably use the excuse to get out too. And we could talk. No one could hear us in a concert.

  “She cool?” Dom asked, trying not to sound nonchalant. A smile spread across my face.

  “She cool,” I confirmed without doubt. “She’s older, but I figure you can bond over your samples.”

  “Kinda an old head, then?” I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Yeah. Very. She was probably around for some of it.”

  “A’ight,” Dom said, thoughtfully. “She can come, then.”

  “See you tonight.”

  Jenny jumped at the chance to get out on some non-hero stuff. Well, as much as she could from her chair. Between me, Kari, Chuck, and her own adventures, I got the vibe that she often felt trapped in the life. And I knew the feeling. I picked her up at 8. She had come down in this strange chair. She had a few, I knew. The basic one that she used around the apartment; the Cannonball, which she drove around the city; and what she called her street level chair. This looked closest to that, but it was new.

  “What’s with the new digs?” I asked, as she lifted herself into the front seat.

  “New street chair I’m testing out. Now, get to loading it up.” Her voice was playful, but she always liked giving orders. I rolled my eyes and went around, let the seats down, and folded the chair up. It was heavy, and clunky, but I saw her watching me in the mirror. I grinned at her and let a trickle of electricity crawl through my muscles. I couldn’t exactly make myself stronger, but I could tap into a little bit of the unused strength this way and lift more than I would normally. It worked by temporarily shorting out the inhibitors that stopped people from biting off their fingers or lifting cars by themselves, except in extreme peril, I didn’t quite chuck the wheelchair in, but I probably could have.

  As we drove down to my brother’s show, I kept an eye out. I could usually find them by extending my electric sense out towards the road, but doing that while driving had the tendency to make me a little car sick. And I didn’t want to risk fucking with another car’s sensors if I didn’t have to. An option if I absolutely must, but powers weren’t a substitution for thinking through the problem and just watching out. And sure enough, there was a car following us not too far off. Three cars down. Another Crown Vic. Older, but in remarkable condition. Kind of thing you only can do with devotion or a union maintaining it for you.

  “What’s going on?” Jenny asked. She wasn’t looking around. Hadn’t even turned to me to ask the question.

  “Nothing,” I lied. I didn’t know if they’d bugged the car. I hadn’t sensed any new electrical or radio signals, but I didn’t quite know what technologies they might have access to. Hell, might even have a couple of metas on the payroll that can do that kind of thing. I doubted it, but it wasn’t impossible and was something that I couldn’t really rule out. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jenny rolling her eyes.

  “Sure, Shay.”

  “Not here,” I murmured just loudly enough to hear. “Concert.” That did get her attention. She turned to face me, lips pursed. After a few more minutes, we got to the show. I stepped out of the car and grabbed my coat from the back. It was a nice leather piece and had my logo, a thunder cloud with a lightning bolt crawling through it, embossed on the back. I fit it over my deep red turtleneck and checked myself in the mirror. Jenny watched me, smirking to herself. While checking myself out, I also caught sight of the car, parking about half a block down.

  I got Jenny’s chair out of the back and helped load her into it, which she graciously allowed. She was wearing a little black dress with a deep neckline and no back. A gorgeous contrast to her pale skin and fiery red hair. She looked good. And she knew it, smiling up at me. She rolled ahead of me under her own power.

  The doorman stopped us and I told him we were on the list. After we got our comped tickets and had found a seat near the stage, and had got a drink, Jenny finally couldn’t take it. She leaned in and spoke in a way to just carry over the music. “What’s going on?”

  “Cops’ve been following me around for about a week or so now,” I replied, shrugging. My gaze went over the venue. It wasn’t a huge place. Two stories. Sound would carry well enough here. And there was a bar. And that was honestly good enough. Pot smoke had already started to fill the ceiling. “You notice anything like that on your end recently?”

  “I . . . Son of a bitch!” She exclaimed. “I hadn’t, but now that I think about it, their response times have been fast. Too fast. You know what it’s about?”

  “Lawin,” I suggested half-heartedly, lifting my palm to her. She considered that for a moment.

  “I thought that anti-vigilante shit was saying was a bunch of crap, honestly.” She nursed her drink for a moment. “But you might be right. The cops have been even more unhelpful than usual, lately.”

  “They ain’t ever been that helpful to me.” She frowned, but didn’t disagree. We’d worked together too much for her to. They were a little distrusting of heroes in general, but around me, they’d get ornery and hostile if I didn’t watch myself. Even if I did, they would get that way. “Any idea what we can do?” I asked. This was her area. Public relations and legal trouble were what we gave her that ten percent for.

  “We’ve always been operating in a gray-area.” She slumped over the table, frowning. “If they start prosecuting us, there ain’t much we can do about it.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

  “It’s bullshit. We give our lives, our bodies,” she spat the word venomously. “To these fucking people. Just trying to make sure they stay safe. Protect them from werewolves and aliens and God only knows what else. And they thank us by having us followed. Threaten to put us away.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, taking a swig of my drink. I caught sight of Dom out of the corner of my eye and waved a hand. My brother was short and broad, like our Momma. He strolled up, grinning from ear to ear. I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. He was wearing bright white and blue hammer pants, a giant chain with a golden pole on it, and a jacket to match his pants. No shirt. He was cut, which was the only thing that stopped the entire image from being entirely ridiculous. Capped out at only mostly ridiculous. “What the hell are you wearing, little bro?”

  His grin somehow widened and spun to show me the rest of it. The back of his coat had patches ironed onto the back that spelled out inDOMitable. “It’s branding, brother.”

  “Okay, Hammer,” I said, smiling back at him. “This is Jenny, my super-manager.” I nodded at her. “And this is my little brother, Dom.” Jenny offered him her hand and he took it and kissed it. I snorted and rolled my eyes. She smiled through it.

  “You’re the opener, right?” She asked.

  “Yeah. But that’s just the start, pretty lady.” Dom pivoted back to me. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Shay.”

  “Here it comes,” I said in my best, long-suffering voice, motioning for him to continue, glancing at Jenny. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “Don’t be like that,” he retorted, annoyed. “Look, When I do my set, I just need you to do a little of your thing. Just a quick bolt here, just for a couple of seconds.”

  “Uh-huh. And I assume that’s been approved by the venue.” I didn’t try to hide the doubt in my voice.

  “It’ll be fine, bro.” He brushed off my concern easily.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Look, I’m not the headliner. Not yet. The opener doesn’t get a light show. But I’m building something here. Something big. Do this for me and next year I will be the headliner.”

  “Okay, okay.” I held up my hands. “What do I need to do?”

  “Not much. When I come out on stage, I’ll throw you a copper line. You’ve heard my music. Just light things up with the song.”

  “Is that all?” I asked. I could hear Jenny chuckling behind her drink.

  “Yeah, easy.”

  “I don’t know, Dom. I don’t know these songs.”

  “We could’ve practiced, but you’ve been dodging me lately.” He puffed out his chest, daring me to contradict him.

  “I . . . It’s not like that, Dom. I just have shit going on.” He just watched me, unphased. “Okay. I’ll try. It’s not bare copper, is it? That’s too risky.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Shay.” He pulled me into a hug and I squeezed him back. As he left, I gazed around the little venue and spotted two people I suspected would be there. The cops that had been following us. I could have reached out with my senses and tried to listen into whatever they were saying. I might be able to access their phones if they weren’t protected. But the room was busy and I’d have to block out a lot of interference. And God only knew what it’d do to the sound system. Jenny followed my gaze and grimaced.

  “Assholes,” she murmured into her drink.

  “We’re just enjoying a show tonight,” I tried to reassure her. She shrugged half-heartedly.

  Twenty minutes later, I watched Dom and a stage hand wheel something out onto the stage. It wouldn’t be in the way and he’d still have the full range of it as he walked back and forth. He walked over and threw the end of an extension cord at me. I caught it, glowering down at the line.

  “Really?” I mouthed at it. He just grinned at me. Jenny gave a full belly laugh at this.

  “Well, at least it’s not bare copper,” Jenny quipped.

  “Yeah, I guess.” I sent a whisper of electricity through the cord, just to map out whatever this device was. It was a series of lights. Sensing through the cord was awkward. It was pretty complex, and I couldn’t quite get the full picture without activating it, but I understood what it was basically. After another few minutes, he snuck back on stage and an announcer echoed out over the room. “Welcome to the stage: inDOMitable!”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  As he said my brother’s stage name, I sent a jolt through the cord and the lights came to life, spelling it out. The system was set up into three sections and was wired pretty good. My brother had a four song set and I alternated the lights, and he alternated, playing some of his older stuff with his newer stuff. He’d been making music since we were kids and had a huge backlog. Had released a few EPs, handing them out on the street and taking donations. Pride bubbled up in me. It was good to see him on the stage.

  I tried to alternate the lights to the beat, which was made up of older samples. But his flow was modern. Before his last song, he took a break and leaned down on the stage, offering me his hand. I grabbed it and he pulled me up, easily.

  “This last song I wrote for my brother. Y’all probably know him. He’s more famous than me, right now. This is for you, Thunderblast!” I killed the lights, as a recording of thunder crawled throughout the speakers. He gave me a signal.

  3.

  2.

  1.

  There was a lightning crack and I lit up the one piece of his display I’d kept dark the entire time. His last song was called Lightning Rod. Which made his ridiculous necklace make a little more sense. It was a gilded one. I went to one end of the stage, cord still in hand and did my best to stay out of his way. The song was directed at me. He’d used the thunder and the crack of lightning to create a beat, mixed with other elements. And while he did direct a lot to the audience, a lot of the song was directed to me. And I grinned through the entire damn thing. I was wondering why he’d been so insistent. I’d not been to every one of his shows. It was hard, between modeling and heroing. But this was his biggest so far. And I’d never heard this tribute before.

  After his set was over, I helped him and a stage hand wheel the thing off the stage. He looked up to me after the fact and said, “Well, if this super model gig you’re doing doesn’t work out, you could always do work as a backup generator. Or a roady.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” I said, clapping my hand on his shoulder. “Pretty good show, little brother.”

  “I know,” he said, pride evident in his tone.

  The headliner walked up and nodded at both of us. He was a star who had been a part of the scene for a while, but hadn’t quite hit universally known status yet. Dom was always saying he was almost there. I’m telling you, Shay. He’s gonna make it big and I’m gonna be right there with him. The man nodded to both of us. “Thunderblast, Dom. How’s it going, fam?”

  “We doing great!” Dom said, trying to stand a little taller.

  “Good show. We didn’t approve those lights.” I watched the man for a moment and recognized a glint of approval in his eye, despite his tone.

  “Didn’t have to pay for them, either, though,” Dom pointed out, slick as ice. The man shrugged, a smile twisting his lips.

  “True enough. You have your verses ready?” Dom nodded seriously. “Good. What about you, Shay? You do any music?”

  “Afraid not. Dom took all that talent. I got a couple of other irons in the fire, though.”

  “Yeah. I see you around. You interested in repping my line?” I knew that he had his own fashion line that he was trying to get off the ground. I bobbed my head. Not a firm affirmation, but not a denial either.

  “I’ll have to check some of my contracts, but we might be able to work something out.”

  “Smart man. Gotta keep in the habit, too. I’ll have my people hit yours up.”

  Des and Curt had been gone for a long while.

  I was going through some of the proposals on Curt’s desk, seeing what I could implement without him. Silly man is going to work himself to death, I thought, moving some of the papers out of the way. Tierra was looming over, doing much the same as I was. We had different philosophies when it came to running crews, but between the two of us and Curt, we had struck a balance between bringing in money and recruits from all over the world and making sure that whatever philanthropic venture he had set out on got done..

  NEW FOLLOWERS. Pinikir’s thoughts vibrated through me and I straightened up a little, trying to adjust to it. I felt a twitch in my lips and nodded. New followers, I agreed. THEY WILL OFFER TRIBUTE TO US. TO ME. Her voice shook me to a core. She wasn’t shouting. She wasn’t making a demand. She was stating a fact. A natural order that had to be followed, like gravity or entropy. And it is natural. I hadn’t realized that I had been doing what she wanted unconsciously for years. Gathering loyal fans, people who hung on my every word and would die for a night with me. My lip twitch grew into a full smile. Curt would argue that the way that celebrities, superheroes and villains, and the ancient gods of the old all acted in the same way. Cultivating power and abusing it.

  IT IS NOT ABUSE! This time she was shouting and the papers I was going through tumbled from my fingers as I almost doubled over. IT IS ONLY RIGHT THAT I AM GIVEN MY DUE. MORTALS LIKE TO BE CODDLED BY THE KINDNESS OF US GODS. I leaned over the desk and gripped the varnished wood. BUT THEY BEST REMEMBER OUR CAPRICIOUSNESS TOO. OUR FAVOR IS NOT FREE. I closed my eyes and gathered in my will, building a bulwark against her. Enough! She recoiled some. I didn’t understand the extent of our entanglement, but she needed me in some way.

  “You okay?” Tierra asked. She was staring at me, her expression was tight, somewhere between concern and wary. There was a tension in her shoulders. A cat ready to bolt, I thought. She’s always been like that. Were it not for Des, she’d be gone by now. The parallel to Curt and I was not lost on me.

  “Of course. Just a little headache. Not used to all of this hard labor.” I smiled at her, reassuringly. The defensiveness in her expression didn’t fade, but she nodded. “It’s why I’ve always preferred smaller crews. But this is interesting at least. A new challenge when the game had become so dreadfully easy, don’t you agree, dear Ti?”

  “I guess,” she replied, rolling her eyes, a small chuckle falling from her lips.

  Pinikir, I thought towards the goddess residing in my spirit, trying to placate her as well. We will gather our followers; we’ve already made great strides to that end. We will show them our strength and that we’re worthy of their worship. They will come to see us as we deserve to be seen. I took a deep breath and reaffirmed my will against what would probably be an assault.

  But we are no longer, in your time, darling. Things have changed. Mortals . . . I struggled to not include myself in that to some degree. I was not entirely sure of what I was anymore. They’re more cynical, more numerous, more disconnected from one another than ever before. And they have not felt the presence of the gods since ages well past. I felt the goddess’ presence press against my mind for an uncomfortable moment, then she shifted, considering.

  YOU SPEAK TRUE, the goddess thought at me after a few long moments. BUT IT IS IMPERATIVE THEY REMEMBER. I didn’t know exactly why this was so important to Pinikir, and unfortunately, there were too few people I could ask. To my knowledge, there wasn’t anyone who had been possessed by a goddess in this way before. Maybe I can have one of the teams steal some ancient texts. I knew I needed to understand whatever this connection was.

  Curt had pointed out, after I had convinced him that it was actually happening, which was a feat on its own, that it was more dangerous than I had originally considered. Look, he had said, I’m not saying that this power isn’t great, that the control isn’t a good thing. But if i-she, he corrected himself without prompting; it just took a raised eyebrow of mine. He’s such a good boy. He continued past his hesitation. She is sentient. And anything sentient has motives. I pointed out that his tone might be considered disrespectful, and he rebuffed that as well. Hell no! I respect the hell out of power. Gods, goddesses, whatever, I don’t know anything about all that. But power, I respect. Enough to know that you need to tread carefully around it.

  That was almost laughable. Curt was many things, but respectful of power was hardly one of them. But he did respect me, which was enough for Pinikir. OUR FIRST ACOLYTE. IRONIC, CONSIDERING HIS OWN CULT. And it wasn’t lost on me that we were hijacking the group that bore his name. Not that he’d mind. HE IS NOT A GOD. HE DOES NOT NEED WORSHIPERS. Something that I’m sure he’d agree with, wholeheartedly, I thought, amused.

  My thoughts were interrupted as my phone went off. I frowned at the screen.

  “Doctor?” I asked, which got Tierra’s attention again. I was going to ask if Curt had agreed to dinner, but I could hear them hyperventilating desperately over the line. “What’s wrong?”

  “Curt,” they cried out over the phone. “G-gun shots. I . . . I don’t know what to do. Cindi, what do I do? I-” their voice cut out over the phone, as their throat closed over the words. I took a few deep breaths, my shoulders tightening. I stretched them, preparing for battle.

  “Des,” I began, softly, which caused Tierra’s eyes to narrow in suspicion. I seldom referred to them as anything but their profession. “Breathe. In.” I heard them do so. “Out. Good. A few more times.” After letting them do that, I asked, “What happened? Where are the gun shots?”

  “I-we-” they began, almost breaking under the pressure again, but they steadied themself. “We finished up the exam. I was trying to get him to take a break. Come to dinner with us. Then that man, the cult leader, came in. Said they needed to talk. Curt told me to go. But I . . . don’t know . . . something was off, Cindi.” Icy rage crawled through my veins, my jaw tightening, the fingers of the hand not holding the phone flexing impatiently. Now that they were speaking, their words were coming out in a flash flood. “So . . . I stuck around. They were arguing, but I figured . . . it’s Curt, you know?” They laughed nervously. “He’s fought Smash Gal, for god’s sake. He can handle some guy. Still, I stuck around, just to make sure both came out okay. But they didn’t. That guy did for a few minutes, but I didn’t think I could just go in and check in on Curt.” They broke down again. “C-Cindi, I’m not like Curt, you. Any of you. I can’t handle . . .”

  “Des,” I said soothingly, keeping my rage at bay, just as I had the goddess. “Gun shots. You said there were gun shots.”

  “Yeah, right.” They were still teetering. “Curt never came out. That man went back in. I could hear them talking. Then gun shots. 8, I think? I don’t know. It was too fast. Too loud. I-I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

  “Where?” They gave me the location, a few floors down. Makes sense. Too much trouble for a vanilla to move him. As they were telling me where it went down, I strapped on the little rig that Curt had made for me. I’d taken to wearing the contacts he’d made by default; something my expanded relationship with Pinikir had made easy. I cycled through our building until I found the right spot. Tierra was tense, but not in the way she had been before; not in the way of a cat ready to bolt, but a tigress ready to pounce. I opened a portal and stepped through.

  The call dropped, but I was right next to Des, Tierra at my heels. They looked like a wreck, tears streaming down their cheeks, their nose dark and blotchy. “Where?” I repeated as Tierra closed the distance, wrapping a protective arm around the doctor. They gestured with a shaking hand, curling into their girlfriend.

  I made my way down a hallway. I couldn’t hear anything coming from the room at the end. But I was not going to be caught unaware. ESPECIALLY NOT BY SOME WEAK MORTAL MAN, Pinikir assured me. I almost smiled. There wasn’t any joy in it. She’s right. Now’s the time to smite a mortal for daring to touch my property. There was a purr of approval from the goddess. That gave me some pause. I mentally corrected myself, My husband. I sank through the floor, and swam underneath the room before sticking my head through it on the other side of the door.

  The coppery smell of blood and shit came through my distorted senses. The strange feeling of being stretched out to fit between atoms but still connected was disorienting and I usually had to concentrate to smell or feel anything. I shot up through the floor and looked down, finding Curt collapsed to the side of Crowley, blood pooling underneath him. He was pale, much paler than normal. My heart was pounding and a numbness spread through me. My hands were shaking too much and I couldn’t check his pulse. I wouldn’t be able to find it like this. OUR PROPERTY, Pinikir mused, more annoyed than concerned. My husband, I countered, rage burning through her words. She receded. I kicked the gun away from Crowley, but it didn’t matter. His throat had been crushed, presumably by Curt. I ripped open the door and called, “Des!”

  It wasn’t necessary. Both the doctor and Tierra were already at the door and walked through. The thief looked sick at the sight. All of the blood drained from Des’ face, leaving them a shade of their normal self, and they hesitated, only managing to squeak out, “Maa lo.”

  “Des,” I called as calmly as I could. Their face snapped to mine. “Get to work.”

  “I . . . Yeah.” And they did, dragging him away. He had been bound to a chair and they struggled for a moment, but I simply walked over and phased him through the bindings and his shirt. He was a mass of blood and I couldn’t even see how many holes were in him. My stomach crawled and I took a few deep breaths, blinking back tears.

  “Stupid man!” I whispered, pain and anger making the words a rasp of desperate steel. “Why is he like this?” After checking on Curt, Des hesitated over Crowley for a moment. “Leave him!” My voice was harsh and filled with pain and rage. The doctor jumped and swallowed, their hands shaking. Tierra crossed the room and stood between us, looking at me, challenge in her body language. I looked at her coldly, both Pinikir and I wanting to wipe her off of the face of the planet. I closed my eyes, taking another deep breath. “Doctor,” I began more softly. “Curt is your concern. I . . . I am sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” they said, in a voice too small. Tierra didn’t wilt at all under my contrition and I found myself gritting my teeth, incensed by her insolence. Now is not the time to deal with it. The doctor swallowed and looked up at me, eyes brimming with more tears. “Cindi . . . He’s . . .”

  “Save him, Des.” I had not worded it like one, but it was a plea. A desperate prayer.

  “I . . . I don’t know that I can. He’s lost so much blood. He’s . . .”

  “Alive right now. And he will continue to be.” My voice was calm, much calmer than I felt. Between Pinikir’s overwhelming presence and my own anxiety eating away at my insides, it took everything I had to not act.

  “D-damn it, Cindi!” They cried, their voice cracking. “This is too much! He needs surgery! A real hospital!”

  “Tierra,” I called. The other thief jumped and met my eye. Before I could even say anything, she shook her head and mouthed, No. I clenched a fist, feeling my knuckles pop. I took another deep breath and crossed the room, trying to keep my fraying patience together. For the briefest of moments, I glared at the other woman, then dismissed her from my mind. If she’s not going to help, then she will get out of my way. I leaned down over my dying husband and put a hand on Des’ shoulder. “Doctor.” They looked at me, tears starting to leak again. “He can’t go to a hospital. He needs you.”

  “I can’t-” they began.

  “You will. I’ll get what you need.” Then I gave them something to think about. “First steps. We need to get him somewhere we can work. Where?”

  They blinked in confusion, trying to understand for a moment. “M-my office?” I raised a brow at the question. “Exam room one. It has the most room.” They only sounded slightly more sure. But it was enough. I opened another portal to their exam rooms, one of the things that Curt had set up as a default position. The stupid man, I thought angrily.

  We eased him into the next room, setting him down on a table. The doctor adjusted it, setting it flat. They were breathing too fast. I gripped their shoulder and they swallowed, looking at me. “Next steps?”

  “Uh . . . Cindi, I really shouldn’t be doing this.” Their eyes were wide and their hands were shaking. Their words started to run together again, their voice reedy, “My surgical residency was over a decade ago. I never had the stomach for it. It’s too much.”

  “We’re not exactly spoiled for choice, darling,” I tried to smile, but from their reaction, it wasn’t reassuring. They nodded, closing their eyes.

  “Blood. We need blood. Type A. Or O if you can’t find it.” I nodded, considering where I could get that. They started down a laundry list of other things they’d need, most of which were relatively simple. The mental checklist I was keeping was long, but hardly a concern for me. This wouldn’t even be the most complicated job I ran today. “I’ll start cleaning him and scrubbing down, seeing what needs to be done.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” I opened the app and Tierra stood next to me, her foot tapping impatiently. I ignored her, cycling through different places where I could get the things I needed. Not a blood bank, they wouldn’t have everything we need. Eventually, I settled on a large hospital. Security relatively minimal. Should be a quick trip. I opened the portal. Curt tended to teleport blind in a lot of cases, but I preferred the portals, Easier to make predictions. Tierra stepped through first and I followed her.

  We walked into a storage closet. When the portal closed, the other thief turned on a heel and held out her hand. Doubt, depression, anxiety all began to weigh me down physically. My mind started running through everything that could go wrong. I could grab the wrong blood, not get back in time, Curt could die. I’d be alone again. Des could kill him on the table. Even if he survives, the Acolytes could try to kill us for what we did to Crowley. Every thought started compounding, and I started to sink down to the floor. Distantly, I heard Tierra say, “You’re pushing Des too hard. I won’t let you destroy them.”

  Rage cut through her assault like a knife. I stood straight up. I was more than a head shorter than her, but I floated up to her eye level. She took a wary step back. When I spoke, my voice was soft, almost a whisper, “Do you expect me to let my husband die?”

  “I won’t let you destroy them when he does,” Tierra reaffirmed. They weren’t backing down. “If they do this surgery and he dies anyway, it will kill them. I don’t want to see that.”

  “You think the doctor feels that way?” I asked. The thief swayed slightly and shook her head.

  “He’s already dead. There were 6 bullet holes. He’s been bleeding for minutes. Anything you do now is torture to them. And to yourself.” Tierra pushed herself into my space, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You need to let go. I don’t want to see this destroy you either.”

  I looked down at the hand for a moment, then met the woman’s eyes. “You are in my way.” She recoiled at that, stepping back, gaze dropping to the floor. I stepped out of the closet and went to work. It didn’t take long to find the things and Tierra was on my heels the entire way. I didn’t get everything on Des’ list. Some of the things were unnecessary, by my estimation.

  All the time, Tierra was behind me, complaining. “This is pointless.” “He’s already dead.” “No one can survive that.” As I continued my shopping list, taking a few precious minutes to get as much blood as I could carry, I shoved several packages into her arms. She managed to not lose any of them. “What are you doing?”

  “Make yourself useful or fuck off, Tierra.” She glared at me. I glared right back. “I don’t need you right now. You want to be around, you will help me save my husband. You do anything to stop me, and I will end you.” She opened her mouth to say something, cheeks red with anger and indignation, but I cut her off. “Curt would do this for me. He would do this for Des. Bloody fucking hell, Tierra, he would do it for you. Even though you hate him. He would do it because Des loves you. And because it’s the fucking right thing to do.”

  “You playing the morality card on me is pretty fucking rich.”

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed, my tone softening.

  “Do you really think he can survive this?” She asked, mirroring my tone.

  “He has to.”

  We got back to the doctor’s exam room. While we were gone, they had wiped the blood off his chest, I could see six bullet wounds stuffed with some kind of bandage that expanded to prevent blood loss. I started setting things out on the table. Des grabbed one of the blood bags and set it up like it was second nature. Afterwards, they looked through the rest of what I’d collected and frowned. “You didn’t get a rib spreader.”

  “No, we won’t need it,” I said, without heat.

  “Are you a fucking doctor!?” Des screamed. “You’re already expecting me to do the impossible, but now you expect me to do something double impossible.”

  I walked over to my husband, laid a hand on his chest, and closed my eyes, concentrating. What I was doing was more delicate than a lot of the phasing I’d done before, but since I’d taken in Pinikir’s spirit, my powers weren’t limited any longer. I could phase a building out of existence. I could choose which parts of anything I wanted to phase in and out, and not just on me, anymore. When I opened my eyes, Curt’s chest was transparent, and I could see his heart beating too fast. I swallowed the bile trying to escape my throat and looked up to the doctor and Tierra, who looked as green as I felt.

  “I-is that sanitary?” Des asked.

  “Honestly, I have no clue. But I figure it’s less stress on his body to not have to cut open his chest.” Des considered for a moment, then nodded.

  “What can I do?” Tierra asked, crossing the room over to the three of us. I smiled at her. She sneered at me.

  “We need to suction out the blood pooling around his organs, see where the bullets got lodged,” Des began, passing each of us masks and gloves. “Some of them went straight through. Then we repair the vessels and suture the holes.” The doctor shook their head. “It’s a miracle no major arteries were hit.”

  “You know as well as I do that he’s too stubborn to go down that easily,” I said, smiling softly down at the stupid man. “He probably found a way to teleport the arteries out of the way even tied up in a chair.” We both laughed. Because it was easier to do that.

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