were too tight. His hands moved down to her ribs, her waist, then her hips as she stared at him coldly.
Joe could sense that she didn’t like him. It didn’t matter why he was touching her, simply that he did so without first asking.
Another guard did the same thing to Joe and he looked toward Not-Kyrie and spoke again in her head. Do it. Take him out.
She jumped. Barely bending her legs at all, she pushed herself into the air, and as she rose she drew her knees up to her chest. Before gravity could force her to the ground, she launched a front snap kick at the man who’d been groping her. He had exactly long enough to look surprised before the ball of her foot connected with his mouth and nose. His head snapped back hard, and with little more than a grunt he fell back, unconscious and bleeding.
The leader looked at her and barked his orders. “Do not move again or you will be shot! Don’t test me!” Joe smiled and sent the command to attack, his blood thrilling as she moved. He felt what she felt, her body responded to his commands, and he grinned as she smiled and jumped, again, powerful legs kicking her high into the air and toward the man even as he aimed for her.
“Bite me!” Her voice was harsh, her kick was harder. The guard tried to fire. His aim was good, but she was too fast. The guard started to say something, but her weight slammed into him. There was no finesse, no fancy maneuvers this time. She merely rammed into him with all of her strength and sent him staggering back, trying to catch himself before he fell.
“Shoot them!”
Joe brought his arm down in a savage stroke. The man grunted and before he could even stagger backward, Joe attacked again and again. Three fast strikes and then the guard crashed into the rooftop.
Joe was next to Not-Kyrie a moment later and smiling. He’d grabbed another of the men, with one arm on the man’s neck and one holding the guard’s hands together. The man was trying to fight back, desperate to defend himself against Joe, but he failed. Joe looked toward the leader and called out in cold, savage tones: “You want him alive, you’ll back down right now.”
“You don’t even have a weapon, you idiot,” one of the men answered. The rifle he’d been carrying was knocked aside, but he reached fast and pulled a pistol from his side.
Joe laughed and his eyes flicked over to his assistant. “I don’t need one. I have her.” His mind voice spoke again. Take him out.
She kicked him on his elbow, and even from a distance Joe heard the bones in his arm snap under the impact. The blow left Not-Kyrie’s foot aching, but in comparison to what he suffered, she got off easy.
Another of them tried to get at her from behind. And Joe gave her a silent warning that she didn’t seem to need. She had felt the impacts of his tread on the roof behind her.
That was different. Her Other, Kyrie, was not as sensitive. Joe had come to realize that Kyrie couldn’t hear or see or smell the world as easily. Not-Kyrie responded to his warning with sudden violence, spinning her body at the hips. Her hands caught the man as he reached for her. She used his own momentum and shifted her weight as he reached her. Powerful muscles moved and tensed and the guard let out a loud, terrified scream as he sailed through the air and over the side of the building.
The next one came in low, his left arm held out in front of him and his right pulled back, holding a stout wooden club. She let him come in and as he swung the weapon, she blocked his attack, her wrist slamming into his forearm. A quick twist of her hand and she caught his sleeve. She pulled him forward and swung her other arm in tightly in an elbow strike. His face broke against her. Joe could tell that the blow hurt her arm, but she took her enemy’s club before it hit the ground.
Joe grinned, excited by the conflict, by how quickly she adapted. Her mind was still almost a blank slate in a lot of ways, but she was waking up, learning more and more every time she was in her Hyde form. When he’d first contacted Kyrie’s Other, she was so new and so easily confused by the world that he’d doubted she’d ever be useful. Now she was coming into her own. The self-defense training that Kyrie had been given by her parents carried through the way it was supposed to, and unlike many of the Others, Not-Kyrie reacted to the attacks with a warrior’s instincts.
Her combat-ready mind looked at each person coming her way, assessed the best-possible option and responded immediately. Fleeing was not a part of her makeup. Her reactions were those of a fighter, a survivor. Joe watched her, his arms still holding his target, and reveled in the fury he’d unleashed.
She hit the man she’d already struck once with his club and stepped past him, not bothering to check if he was conscious.
The one Joe had used as a shield started rising to his feet, his eyes looking from her to Joe and back again. Not-Kyrie caught him in her grip and lifted him completely off the ground. He windmilled his arms and tried to regain his balance but before he could she’d slammed his back into the roof hard enough to stun him.
Joe knocked the gunman to the ground and brought both fists down on the man’s skull as hard as he could. Bones shattered under the blow. Joe rose to his feet, not caring if his enemy was alive or dead so long as he was unmoving.
Joe looked at Not-Kyrie for a moment and nodded, his face stony and expressionless. Then he moved over to the man whose arm she had broken. His hand reached out and gripped the spot where the man’s bones hung uselessly within his skin and he squeezed.
The man bucked and thrashed and screamed before he passed out, the sudden, shocking pain too much for him.
And then Joe moved toward her and the one she’d just subdued.
Good job. I knew I could count on you.
“You got shot!” Her voice was loud, nervous.
He looked at his arm and tore the sleeve of his dress shirt down, revealing the wound. It had already stopped bleeding.
We’re fast healers. I’ll be better soon.
Joe crouched next to the man in front of her, who was still trying to catch his breath after being body slammed. He grabbed the man’s left ear in his hand and lifted the man into a half-sitting position. The guard yelped and started to fight until Joe hissed at him.
“Stop fighting. Stop fighting, or I’ll tear your ear off your damned head.” The man was smart enough to listen. That was for the best because Joe wasn’t kidding.
“What are you?” The man’s voice shook. He was terrified.
“Right now?” Joe looked up at the sky for a moment and then looked back down at his prey. “Right now I’m extremely pissed off.”
“What do you want?” The man’s voice broke and he was breathing too fast. He looked ready to cry.
“I want you to answer some questions for me.”
“I can’t.”
“Wrong answer.” Joe shook his hand and the man’s head moved with it. It was simply a choice of going along for the ride or getting his ear torn free. “We’re going to have a talk. You’re going to answer some questions for me.” He smiled and leaned in closer. “And unless you want me to let her start biting pieces out of your thighs, you’re going to answer them.”
He felt Not-Kyrie smile behind him as she looked at the man. His eyes bounced from one of them to the next and then he stared at her teeth. Finally he nodded. Joe could feel her disappointment. Part of her was curious as to what he might taste like.
Not-Cody waited outside for his attackers and rolled his shoulders, keeping himself loose and ready. Joe looked through his eyes and sensed his adrenaline levels. Not-Cody was excited but being cautious. He wanted to know what he could do, how much damage he could deliver and how much he could take, but he wasn’t being stupid about it. Joe looked on through Not-Cody’s senses but felt that same odd resistance he’d experienced before, almost like radio feedback. He tried to shake it off and focus on the battle ahead. On the other side of the building, where the other main entrance lay, he could sense Not-Gene and Not-Tina bracing themselves, preparing for the attack to come.
The air was fresh, clean and laced with dirt, soot and the faint smell of burnt gunpowder.
“Come on then. Let’s dance, you losers.” The voice was deep, and the body it came from was so radically different from Cody’s that Joe had trouble believing they shared a body. Cody’s Other was almost twice the size of
