Chapter Ten
Catherine
My head collided with the table, momentarily making the world go black. I groaned as I pushed myself off the table. Turning around, I looked at my problem, or rather, problems.
Two males- Oi Alloi, presumably, both taller than 6 feet, both a little further than 20 feet away, both perfectly capable of killing me.
But they aren't killing you Catherine, are they?
All their moves were knockout moves, tailored to give concussions. Nothing more, nothing less. They could have easily grabbed the knives on the dining table, but they didn't. They weren't even trying to kill me. This meant... Peter...
Both of those...things were just staring at me. Not moving. Waiting. For me.
I had an advantage now, and I wasn't going to let it go.
I slowly pulled a throwing knife from my left boot. Then another from my right. My only two. Use them wisely, Catherine. They were both still, tensed. I knew they could dodge knives, so throwing any at them wouldn't help. And there were no other ways out either. Just because they can't kill me, doesn't mean they can't knock me out. I had to kill them. But how? I frowned.
My mom would always say, "Think, Cathy, your mind is your greatest weapon."
Mom.
I missed her so much. I longed for her safety, her comfort. I kicked myself internally, getting my mind back on track
God, Catherine stop getting so dis-
Wait.
I smiled at those imbeciles. They aren't very smart. This could work...
Twirling my knife in my hand, a smile morphing into what I'm assuming is a maniacal grin, I said, "Come on. Are you even trying to kill me? Let's have some fun!"
I eyed them closely for any reaction, my grin never faltering.
Nothing. Maybe a flicker of unease in those soulless pits they call eyes, but nothing I was going to take my chance on. I almost rolled my eyes. Time to change my tactics.
I bounded at them, savagely, thrusting the kindly knife down through the taller back, I plunged it in, again and again and again, he howled.
His partner, who had failed hilariously to impersonate my mother, turned towards me and started backing out the door. Why isn't he attacking me? There was no time to think about that right now. I had to kill them both. I thrusted the dying body in my cruel hands aside and venomously walked towards the other imposter. "You are not going anywhere, Mom." I flung the bloody knife at his face, precision at its apex, cutting right through his eyebrows. Both my stalkers fell to the floor, a pool of blood at their bodies. I went over to the kitchen sink, washed my hands, my face, and went on to make myself some dinner- after all, I was starving.
It's only once I have gathered up the courage to look at the lifeless bodies on the floor of my house, that the reason for them not harming me finally came to my realization. The reason for them to not remove the loaded guns from their waistcoats. And even though I despised my answer, it gave me a little bit of hope. It meant my parents were alive, and safe, probably just two streets away, at his house. I sit down at a pulled out chair and sigh, tired.
I didn't know why he did it, or what he gained from it, but I knew he was taking care of them, that he was the one who had made sure that these ridiculous men didn't harm me. I considered telling him everything tomorrow on our way to headquarters but decided against it; he would probably know already.
Oh Peter.
-
I wrap the scarf around his face gently, making sure it's held back tight. I trust him with my life- which he's saved more than once- but I can't take any chances.
It takes me everything to hold back my questions on last night's events, on my parents, but, as the engine jitters to life, I know I have to wait. And with one last sorrowful thought escaping my mind, I switch the gears of my car and start on the journey.
-
Margarita has outdone herself. This test is certainly something- hopefully not too much though. I looked around me, an over excited, squealing audience filled up both the sides of the room, making it look more like a stadium.
Funnily, Margarita herself looked a mess; her normally neatly piled hair now had strands falling out, a trail of sweat rolled down the side of her face- even her clothes were a bit messed up- without crumples and dark spots at the bottom. Margarita has had an adventure! I smile to myself, nudging Peter to see this.
In front of us, Peter standing on my left, stands an exquisite course of obstacles, each one testing a different power of his. I wondered how she knew which ones he possessed- even I didn't till now.
The entire path is broken into four sections; the first one, a dark, enclosed room with a small radio inside it connected to a computer outside with a long wire. The computer, controlled manually, has a long pattern of what look like...volumes?
Oh.
Sharp hearing.
I squeeze Peter's hand once, twice, three times. This one is practically a joke to him- right?
"Hey," He whispers to me. "I think it's adorable when you worry but I'll be fine okay?"
"I don't want you to get hurt."
He kisses me lightly on my forehead. "I love you." He says, his lips still touching my face.
My heart skips a beat. "Good to know."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding...
We move on to the next barrier.
It's like a ginormous boxing ring; a huge pile of logs on one corner, a frozen block of ice on the other, and a man in the center.
In his hand, he holds a stick that's on fire. What would happen here, the announcer, who was announcing in the background explained in his loud voice to the hall, was: "the man in the ring would light the logs on fire while Peter would try to do the same to the entire block of ice. Peter must then, only after completing the first part of this task, turn and cool down the fire, showing his control."
His palms are sweating and he clutches my hand harder.
My eyes skid over to the next problem. A tank of water in which he has to hold his breath for at least 10 minutes. I turn to look at him. His eyes, which were a gooey yellow just seconds before, returned to their original blue. This will be easy. I smile and continue.
And then I stop. She would not do this! Absolutely not.
A ring, the size of a normal room, perhaps 9 by...9 feet, I'm assuming, was marked on the floor. I already knew what lay in it. That witch! Oh no she won't.
I turn to walk over to her to give her a piece of my mind and make her change the obstacle, but Peter jerks my hand back and smiles at me. Ugh, that smile.
"You know, you didn't answer me back." He says, still smiling.
I take a step closer and put my mouth to his ear, not ready to say it out loud yet. "My heart beats for you."
He grins. "Sweet."
I look at him. He's biting his lip. "You shouldn't worry about me, you know. It's okay."
"Stop saying that." I reply and we move on.
Inside the ring, a circle of To Sotos soldiers wait for Peter hungrily.
I curse that wretched Margarita under my breath and, following the orders given in the announcement, leave for my seat. I stop after two steps and turn, heading back to him. I leaned in, putting my hands around his neck. "You can do this. It's easy." I say, lying blindly. He chuckles softly and puts his hands around my waist, slowly but tight.
He grins, his eyes a mischievous shade of turquoise, "I think we both know how easy it is." We both laugh a bit more. Looking up at him, I start, "But...?".
"But," he says, "I'll do it for you."
The announcer blew the horn, signaling the beginning of the events. I grinned and left his hand, leaving for my seat. I hoped this would get over soon. But more importantly, I hope he'll be okay.