38. Pedro
Pedro
“I’ve been through full training with Mariano most of my life,” I’m not even panting after an hour of knife training against my brother.
“Why do you think this will help me control my powers?” I ask Alin, narrowly dodging the knife Mariano throws my way.
He’s fast, but we’ve been training together since we were four—I know his fighting style as well as his reaction time.
“The goal isn’t to train you physically, but mentally,” she says from the bench in Flavio’s private training room. “You might be calculated, but your fuse is just as short as Luca’s—that’s where the risk lies.” She explains, then immediately shouts, “Again!”
I sigh and take my stance opposite Mariano once more, picking up the knife I always carry—in case I’m left without my gun—from the training mat.
“This time, I’ll let you start,” I flash a sly grin at Mariano.
“Looks like you need the extra training at your age.” I tease, and he charges at me in an instant.
I know him too well to fall for his traps, dodging every blow he sends my way.
But he surprises me when I move to the side to evade him, and he swings his knife toward my neck from the other side.
“Son of a bitch,” I curse as I leap back, managing to avoid him at the last second.
“You keep underestimating my age, and I’ll keep proving you can’t beat me,” he shoots me a satisfied grin, “At least not in close combat.”
I chuckle and toss my knife to the floor, challenging him to a fistfight. He follows suit, waiting like a predator for my next move.
“You’ve always been the weakest among us. You never win at anything,” Mariano advances cautiously, fists up to protect his face.
“You’ll have to try harder if you want to get under my skin and throw me off balance,” I taunt, immediately noticing how he pivots his right foot back—he’s about to attack from my left. I predict his move and easily dodge every punch he throws.
“You think you’re impressing anyone with those dodges? I doubt Bay finds it attractive…” Mariano continues to test my limits, but I hold my ground, dodging strategically to wear him out.
“Really? Not even a flinch? You clearly don’t care much about Bay then,” he tries his luck again, this time looking surprised that I’ve held my temper so long.
I take advantage of his momentary distraction, feigning a right-hand attack.
He blocks it immediately, but not before my left fist slams into his ribs, and he gasps.
“Bastard! We trained you too well,” he chuckles between sharp breaths to control his pain, and I smile in satisfaction.
“Are you being followed?” Alin’s voice echoes through the training room, and my breath catches the second I realize she is on the phone. Is that Bay?
“Put Luca on the phone,” she demands.
“Do you need help? You know how many—” she starts asking Luca, her voice tenses together with my body.
“Don’t tell me not to worry! You’re in the middle of nowhe—” her sentences keep getting cut off, and I can only assume my brother keeps silencing her.
She shoots a scared look at my direction as I am starting to lose my chill.
“Bay? What’s that noise? Are those gunshots? Luca? What’s going on there?” Alin shouts into the phone, her voice rising with panic. My heart pounds against my chest. I rush to grab my cell, Mariano right on my heels.
The busy signal prevents us from reaching either of them, and I can already feel the tingling in my palm starting again.
“What did they say to you?” I lock eyes with Alin, taking deep breaths as she’s taught me. Don’t burn the place. Control yourself.
“Maybe we should’ve started training directly with Bay,” she chuckles nervously, trying to avoid my question.
“Alin, I won’t ask again—what did they say?” The electric currents in my body scorch through every fiber, fueled by the anger mixed with my panic.
“Pedro, your power is an extension of your body. Close your eyes. Own it,” she instructs me with a calm that’s a total mismatch to the worry flooding my chest. But I listen, reluctantly shutting my eyes.
“Feel which parts of your body it flows through, accept it as a part of you—don’t fear it,” she continues to guide me. I take a deep breath, trying to focus on the tingling currents coursing through my body. “Once you feel the source, lead the currents exactly to where you want them to go.”
“I feel the electric currents everywhere. I can’t find the source,” I respond, frustrated. My hands feel like they’re about to burn if I don’t release the electricity soon.
“Concentrate!” she commands. “The currents are all over, but their source is where they all start from—find it.”
I try to calm the chaos within me, ignoring the intensifying sting and focusing on the flow of the currents, leading me directly to what feels like some energy ball at the center of my chest. Alin’s right—they all stem from one place!
“I found it.” I inform her, keeping my eyes shut.
“Excellent. Now focus on that point and direct all the burning currents in your body to a single exit point,” she explains, as if all this madness is making any sense.
I focus on the ball in my chest—from where everything originates—and guide the currents as one steady stream toward my hand, steering it in my mind down to my fingers.
“You’re a fast learner,” Alin acknowledges, and I can almost picture the satisfied smile she’s probably wearing. “Now open your eyes, and channel the electric stream forward, directly at your target.”
I snap my eyes open, thrusting my hand forward. To my surprise, this time the currents don’t leap erratically from my palm—they flow in a single direction toward my fingers, wrapping around my hand as if they’re an inseparable part of it as the sting becomes almost soothing.
“Send it to the target on the wall in front of you. Come on,” Alin urges me, and I suppress the tiny flicker of pride leaping in my chest as I channel the currents forward.
They hit directly at the point I aimed for, staying within the boundaries of the marked target on the wall—and most importantly, without setting us all on fire. I am a fucking weapon!
“I can’t believe I actually did that!” I look at Alin with my mouth agape, the familiar sting in my body now forgotten.
“Our powers are dangerous when we let emotions take over. Now that you know how to control it when it surges, the next step is learning how to create it when you need it.” She steps closer, a mischievous smile on her face, clearly signaling that we still have a long way to go.
But then, my eyes fall on the phone in her hand—it’s still on a call. What the hell?
“They’re still on the line?” I ask angrily.
Alin laughs. “Don’t worry, they’ve got a plan for anyone tailing them. I just saw you were finally starting to lose control when worrying about Bay, so I took advantage of it.”
I hurl curses at her, and immediately a roar echoes from the other side of the line. Even without being on speaker, I can hear the threat in my brother’s voice. Point taken—not cursing my sister-in-law.
I sigh, turning to Mariano, who’s now sitting casually on the bench in the room, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back on his hands, enjoying the show we’re putting on.
“Go ahead, make your snarky comment now so we can get all today’s shit out of the way and get back to training,” I throw at him, already seeing the smirk he’s trying to hold back.
“Welcome to the club of whipped men; we really should get membership cards made,” he chuckles, getting back onto the mat. Alin’s laughter quickly joins his as she ends the call.
I’m definitely going to enjoy every moment of making him suffer today.