I caught up against the desk just as he placed the period at the end of the sentence. Adam slammed next to me, lifted his head to stare at Scribe, drew back his fist, and vanished into thin air.
"Adam?"
I reached out and pawed the air he'd just inhabited. My brows came together and confusion swamped me. Where was he? Seconds ago, he'd been standing there. His fist had been in the air. He'd been ready to rock and roll all over Scribe's face and-
My head swiveled back to Scribe, my heart sinking. Scribe smiled at me, pen touching the paper. "They'll say it was self-defense. A rogue superhero coming for the head of the office? Who would ever think of that? It's common enough. It will pass. And if you don't want to be next, Strikeout, you'll fall back in line."
"Where is he?" My voice quivered. Had he sent him somewhere else? He had to have. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't. Not when he'd invested so much time raising us.
His eyes narrowed. "Gone."
Something inside me snapped. And I think he saw it, too. What I'd experienced for most of my superhero life was a white-hot shot of adrenaline that cranked me up like a hit from any number of hard drugs; take your pick. I'd compared it to a truckload of coke when I was younger, but then I'd actually had coke and realized that was dreadfully wrong.
It was more like getting hit with lightning.
This wasn't that. This? This was fire.
I screamed as I brought death down from above, aiming to smash him into the ground and the many floors below us. He dove to the side, catching his book but leaving the pen for me to crush. I assumed he had more and grabbed his desk, lifting it above my head and hurling it at him.
"You killed my boyfriend!" I shrieked.
The desk shattered against the wall. Nate and the others came after me, Nishelle torching half the room as we went. It was easier to pen him in if he didn't have so much room to work in. Nate's hands reached out for me, but I slid loose and slung myself after Scribe again.
I was lucky enough to catch him with a kick across the knee. The pop was audible, pleasant, the exact sound I needed to hear to reassure me that I'd hit exactly what I wanted to, where I wanted to. He pulled another pen from his pocket and I just couldn't get there in time.
In an instant, I found myself on the ground. A rip across my stomach opened me up, spilling loops of intestine through the hole. Agony tore through me and I sobbed, trying to keep from going into shock. Adam was as good as dead and I needed to keep my shit together to try to find some way to get him back. I had to. I just had to and there was nothing else that mattered in that second.
A bolt of Nishelle's fire tore across the front of the book and scorched the page I was on. It must have, because suddenly the rip in my abdomen was healing, faster than I'd ever healed before. It was like watching someone knit new skin across the wound, pulling that slippery rope back into me bit by bit.
When all of it was inside me, where it belonged, I sat up and ran my hand over the recently healed flesh. Then I turned my attention back to Scribe. "Everyone needs to get away from him right now!"
I didn't give them a chance to argue with me. They'd managed to angle Scribe so he was right next to a window. All the better. He clutched a pen in his fist, scribbling to beat all hell. Whatever he was doing, I was about to ruin him. I tore off across the room at the speed of light and grabbed him. The book fell from his hand and he stared down at me, opening his mouth to curse me or to beg; I didn't know which.
"Put him down, Cassie."
My head whipped back to stare at Melody as she approached me. No, Izzy. She was out of uniform, her eyes red from rubbing them. "Is what you said true?"
I didn't comprehend her at first. Nate chimed in for me. "He wrote Adam out of existence. We're trying to make him bring him back before we put an end to this."
The blow came out of nowhere, flattening me to the ground. Scribe fell from my grasp as Izzy came on, the tears falling freely down her cheeks. "You killed my brother?"
"It isn't death if he never existed. You've always been a good girl, Isabella. Don't ruin it for yourself," Scribe rasped, his hand coming in contact with his book once again.
Maybe if we could get hold of Adam's page, let Nishelle burn it, it would fix that problem, too? I didn't really understand the powers that Scribe controlled; at least, not how to undo them. He was pretty quiet about them, too. I tried to fight my way up but it was impossible. Izzy had me pinned and, upon looking around, I realized she had all of us pinned to the ground.
He was my boyfriend.
But Adam was her brother first.
"Do it, old man. Write me a story with a happy ending," Izzy growled, kicking his pen toward him.
Was she insane? I couldn't so much as speak. She wanted to have him go out thinking he'd have one over on her. It was
