growth. It’s been a burden to me all my life, but just now it saved my bacon. I can do a few tricks too—here’s the first.”
Pulling back in to avoid the dagger Iriya had hurled at it, the true head popped up from the top next. Suddenly it split lengthwise, and a massive quantity of liquid fountained from it, shooting high into the air. It rained down on both Iriya, who’d made a great leap out of the way, and Meeker, who was lying on the ground.
The stunned Iriya was prompted to cry, “What is this—oil?”
“That it is.”
Though the voice carried laughter, the face was lacking in emotion. Its mouth opened wide. A tiny flame was visible in its depths.
“You might be able to run, but I’ll turn the brat into a torch! Unless you wanna see that, come into the surveillance center.”
“What about the boy?”
“I’ll hold on to him. So long as you’re still against me, it looks like he’ll be useful.”
“You coward!”
“Is that your professional opinion as a Hunter? Bounty hunters would give a play like this a round of applause!”
A thought unexpectedly shot through Iriya’s mind: D.
II
At that point, the gorgeous Hunter was already halfway to the top of the stairs to the surveillance deck. His racing footfalls didn’t make a sound.
It was as he took his next step that he sensed danger. Left hand on the rail, he threw himself into the air—and only D could’ve detected the attacker coming at him from behind out of thin air. A silvery arc was limned. The slash the Hunter made while in midair barely missed, and the thing flew back the way it’d come.
“An attack drone,” said the hoarse voice, seeming to issue from the handrail. “It flies at Mach 2—faster than your blade! Someone’s gotta be controlling it.”
As she headed for the surveillance center, Iriya glanced at Gathlin’s corpse. It knocked the wind out of her. Gathlin was dead. That was for certain. She knew as much from seeing the man’s death throes. However, something was moving—his right hand. He was lying with his arm stretched in front of him, but his wrist was raised, and his five fingers were making intricate movements. Even on closer inspection, they seemed to be doing no more than tapping the floor at random. Yet to Iriya, it looked like something else. To her, they seemed to be controlling something.
“Here it comes!” the hoarse voice snapped.
Its words were replaced by a strange slicing sound, and then D fell toward the ground like a beautiful black stone. A black shooting star followed behind him. No doubt it intended to intercept D in midair. However, before it could, something fell from above to cover it. D’s left hand, detached at the wrist!
Its balance upset, the drone began to decelerate from its supersonic speed. At that instant, the tip of D’s blade shot up from below—impaling both the drone and his own hand. At the same time, D fell flat against the concrete. He immediately got up again and swung his sword. His left hand and the attack drone hit the floor.
“You’re a real tyrant,” the left hand kvetched. The stab wound was rapidly fading. “I go to all that trouble of figuring out its speed and direction so I can land on it, and you turn me into shish kebab! Without so much as a thought about all we’ve been through together.”
Perhaps the left hand was just a complainer by nature, because as D looked up at the surveillance center he paid no heed to the grumbles about how cruel the world was or how he must have a death wish. He noticed something was falling over them like rain from above.
“Oil?” the left hand cried, and just then, a small flame sparked in the surveillance deck. Covered by what had become a rain of fire, D’s body became a torch burning at thousands of degrees.
Once D had thudded to the ground and the flames enveloping him had faded, three figures looked down at him from the stairs.
“Dhampir or not, there’s no way he could stand three thousand
Pulling back in to avoid the dagger Iriya had hurled at it, the true head popped up from the top next. Suddenly it split lengthwise, and a massive quantity of liquid fountained from it, shooting high into the air. It rained down on both Iriya, who’d made a great leap out of the way, and Meeker, who was lying on the ground.
The stunned Iriya was prompted to cry, “What is this—oil?”
“That it is.”
Though the voice carried laughter, the face was lacking in emotion. Its mouth opened wide. A tiny flame was visible in its depths.
“You might be able to run, but I’ll turn the brat into a torch! Unless you wanna see that, come into the surveillance center.”
“What about the boy?”
“I’ll hold on to him. So long as you’re still against me, it looks like he’ll be useful.”
“You coward!”
“Is that your professional opinion as a Hunter? Bounty hunters would give a play like this a round of applause!”
A thought unexpectedly shot through Iriya’s mind: D.
II
At that point, the gorgeous Hunter was already halfway to the top of the stairs to the surveillance deck. His racing footfalls didn’t make a sound.
It was as he took his next step that he sensed danger. Left hand on the rail, he threw himself into the air—and only D could’ve detected the attacker coming at him from behind out of thin air. A silvery arc was limned. The slash the Hunter made while in midair barely missed, and the thing flew back the way it’d come.
“An attack drone,” said the hoarse voice, seeming to issue from the handrail. “It flies at Mach 2—faster than your blade! Someone’s gotta be controlling it.”
As she headed for the surveillance center, Iriya glanced at Gathlin’s corpse. It knocked the wind out of her. Gathlin was dead. That was for certain. She knew as much from seeing the man’s death throes. However, something was moving—his right hand. He was lying with his arm stretched in front of him, but his wrist was raised, and his five fingers were making intricate movements. Even on closer inspection, they seemed to be doing no more than tapping the floor at random. Yet to Iriya, it looked like something else. To her, they seemed to be controlling something.
“Here it comes!” the hoarse voice snapped.
Its words were replaced by a strange slicing sound, and then D fell toward the ground like a beautiful black stone. A black shooting star followed behind him. No doubt it intended to intercept D in midair. However, before it could, something fell from above to cover it. D’s left hand, detached at the wrist!
Its balance upset, the drone began to decelerate from its supersonic speed. At that instant, the tip of D’s blade shot up from below—impaling both the drone and his own hand. At the same time, D fell flat against the concrete. He immediately got up again and swung his sword. His left hand and the attack drone hit the floor.
“You’re a real tyrant,” the left hand kvetched. The stab wound was rapidly fading. “I go to all that trouble of figuring out its speed and direction so I can land on it, and you turn me into shish kebab! Without so much as a thought about all we’ve been through together.”
Perhaps the left hand was just a complainer by nature, because as D looked up at the surveillance center he paid no heed to the grumbles about how cruel the world was or how he must have a death wish. He noticed something was falling over them like rain from above.
“Oil?” the left hand cried, and just then, a small flame sparked in the surveillance deck. Covered by what had become a rain of fire, D’s body became a torch burning at thousands of degrees.
Once D had thudded to the ground and the flames enveloping him had faded, three figures looked down at him from the stairs.
“Dhampir or not, there’s no way he could stand three thousand
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