CHAPTER 9
Astrid
Sparks opens her apartment door, and I freeze with my fist in the air, raised to knock. My breath catches as we stand face-to-face, only a foot away from each other. I haven’t been this close to her in months.
A man steps around Sparks, shoving me with his shoulder as he passes in a way I can only assume is intentional. I stumble back a step, stunned at his brazenness and a little embarrassed.
“Was that the guy who fought alongside me on the boat?” I ask Sparks, doing a double-take at his retreating form.
“Yes.” Sparks’s voice is distant as her eyes glaze over.
“I still can’t figure out why he did that.
” It was one of the strangest things that has happened to me as the Water Weaver.
I stormed the boat to rescue Sparks, and then this man turned on his cohorts, slashing and stabbing with ease.
We fought well together, covering each other’s blind spots.
“I was so confused, but I wasn’t about to complain. ”
“Derek did it because I asked him to.” Sparks shrugs, as if it was just that simple. “He asked what I needed, and I said to keep you safe.”
“Oh.” I pick at my fingernails, on edge from being in this unfamiliar place where I am clearly not wanted, talking about the worst night of our lives. “Thank you, I guess.”
“Don’t mention it.” I get the feeling she means that literally. “Anyway, Derek and I are heading to the sparring ring. Care to join?”
“I don’t know if I’m brave enough to go head-to-head with him.” I shiver, remembering his skilled movements from our fight. “His glare alone could kill.”
“You could skirmish with me,” she offers casually. “I’m a bit tired of Derek whooping my ass.”
“So you think that you can just bowl me over?” I raise my eyebrow, trying to decide if I should be offended.
“Nah.” She shakes her head as she leads me toward the gym. “But it’ll be fun to get beat up by a different person.”
Something about her frankness catches me off guard, and I throw my head back laughing. Sparks glances at me over her shoulder. Her eyes don’t have their usual malice, instead she seems almost amused.
In the gym, Sparks shows me how to swathe my fists with the wraps, to help protect our wrists or something.
What kind of fighting does she think we’re about to do?
Derek stands nearby, overseeing our conversation.
He seems to serve as some kind of trainer for Sparks, teaching her how to fight.
I wonder if that extends past the walls of the gym to how the inner workings of the crime syndicate are structured.
I shake my head, sending the thoughts away.
Sparks has amnesty, we shook on it. None of this concerns me.
Still though, a pang of jealousy cuts through my chest. She has someone in her corner to guide her, show her the ropes.
The Water Weaver never did. My fighting technique relies on a very simple principle – don’t get hit.
Evade, glide, move like water. If all goes to plan, I use my powers to apprehend criminals, never having to interact with them at all.
That being said, several years of trial by fire have taught me enough to hold my own.
Wait for the right moment, dodge, find your opening. Then get the heck out of there.
“Alright you two, standard fighting rules apply,” Derek recites passively. “No hits to the neck, spine, or groin. No use of your powers. If one contender yields, all contact is to cease immediately. Any questions?”
Sparks stands across from me, shaking out her hands. Her expression is hard and determined, taking this perhaps a bit too seriously. Okay then, I raise my hands. Maybe this could be fun?
Derek blows his whistle and Sparks immediately steps to my left, starting to circle.
I’ve really only seen her fight once. It wasn’t the most impressive performance I’ve seen, but to be fair, she was restrained at the time and freshly beaten.
I have no idea what to expect from her. What are her strengths?
What are her weaknesses? She throws out a soft jab, testing my defenses.
I duck underneath and evade easily. Sparks is not surprised that her blow doesn’t land but raises her eyebrow when I don’t try to block, instead preferring sleek movements to a firm stance.
It seems Derek taught her to fight like a guy, a brick wall of force. Oh, this is going to be so much fun.
Sparks throws a right hook next. I slink underneath, trying to weasel my way behind her, but Sparks is a fast learner, catching on to my plan.
She sticks out her foot and I trip, smoothly transitioning into a somersault instead.
My ponytail whips around as I stand, chuckling to myself for falling for Sparks’s trick.
She’s better than I gave her credit for.
“Fighting dirty, huh?” I taunt, a mischievous gleam in my eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she feigns indignation.
I move in and she strikes, testing how good I am at evading her blows. Left hook, right uppercut, left side kick, right hook. I dodge the first three easily, but as I sidestep her kick, I move directly into the incoming right hook. She catches me directly on my cheek.
“Ow!” I stumble back, holding the side of my face. I bend over as I reel from the blow. “Motherfucker!” This is no longer fun.
“Shit, are you okay?” Sparks drops her guard and places a hand on my back… just like I wanted.
I grab her arm and yank it forward as I sweep her legs.
Sparks falls on her stomach. I try to use her momentum to pin her arm behind her back, but she squirms out of my hold, twisting to face me.
I straddle her, but she bucks her hips to throw me over her head.
I slide cleanly into another somersault, rising to a crouched position matching hers.
“That was a dirty trick,” she grumbles.
“If you don’t like it, then do something about it.” I wink, having fun again. God, I missed our banter. No one can dish out sass quite like she can.
After letting her lead the offensive, I decide it’s my turn.
Lithe and graceful, I pounce. We grapple for a moment.
I’m slipperier than she is, but she’s strong.
Sparks gets control of my wrists and forces me to the floor, straddling my hips.
Her hair dangles freely, not in a ponytail like mine.
I scrunch my nose as her curls tickle my face.
She whips her hair back, a polite gesture, and our eyes meet.
I can see the deep flecks of silver and gray in her iris.
I can feel the warmth of her breath. I notice the outlines of her muscles, more pronounced than when I’d seen her last. Her strong thighs around my hips, her firm grip on my wrists. Focus, Astrid. Focus.
I suddenly jerk my arms down and Sparks loses her balance.
I slide out from under her agilely, while she topples clumsily.
She curses at herself under her breath as we stand and reset our defenses, circling each other once more.
Sparks feints toward my left side, hoping I’ll flinch due to her landing the right hook earlier.
Not the case. Instead, I reach across my body with my right hand, firmly grasping her arm, and in one fluid movement, I spin and lash out with my left elbow.
Her head is knocked back as I connect with her brow.
Oof, that looked like it hurt. She stumbles back as Derek blows his whistle.
“That’s enough, girls.” Derek eyes me distrustfully. “Take a break.”
I relax immediately, completely shifting my body language from the Water Weaver back to Astrid. I hold a hand up to my cheek and mutter profanity under my breath. That really hurts.
“Come on,” Sparks offers apologetically. “Let’s get you some ice.”
“Don’t you get tired of being covered in bruises all the time?” I moan, following her dutifully to the kitchen freezer.
“Haven’t thought about it.” She shrugs. It’s unsettling how used she is to being injured. She tosses me a bag of frozen vegetables. “I do get tired of peas though.”
“Ugh, I hate peas.” I wince as I hold up the peas to my face. Yeah, that’s going to bruise. She grabs a bag of frozen corn, pressing that to her brow.
“So, about Synergy… how thoroughly did you search the labs?” Sparks asks hesitantly. She grabs a croissant and picks at the layers.
“Not fantastically.” I sit on an island stool, grabbing one of her croissant flakes and popping it in my mouth. “There were a lot of places I couldn’t get to. Lots of locked doors for an abandoned building.”
“Why didn’t you pick the locks?” Sparks goes to the fridge, pulls out some fruits, and sets them in front of me. She also slides over the rest of her demolished pastry, encouraging me to eat.
“Pick the locks?” I raise an eyebrow. I look over the fruit before selecting a nice peach. “Why would I know how to do that?”
“Do you need me to teach you?” She offers. “Derek’s like a total lockpicking pro. He’s shown me a ton.”
“Umm, no.” I shift on my stool. “I try not to make petty crime a habit.” Sparks rolls her eyes, annoyed at my comment.
“Answer me honestly.” She scoots onto the counter, pulling one leg up in front of her and letting the other dangle. “Is there anything I can do to get you to stay away from Synergy Labs, or is this going to be something that you’ll go behind my back to investigate?”
“Sparks, I don’t see how I can stop.” I fiddle with the peach pit. “I mean, this connects to our powers and to the death of so many people. I need to figure out what happened, maybe even find justice for their families.” I avoid looking at her during that last sentence.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she huffs. “Synergy Labs has been and will always be bad news, even disbanded.” There’s a beat of silence. “But if there’s no stopping you, then I don’t want you to go there alone.”
“Really? Oh, thank you!” I leap up from my barstool and hug her. “This is going to be so much fun!” She quickly squirms out from my embrace, uncomfortable with my affection.