Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,76

raised his weapon, taking aim at Gabriel’s forehead, when suddenly, a voice from nearby snatched his attention.

“Well, would you look at that. A bunch of blood whores got themselves arrested.”

Alouette looked over to see two men leering at the girls from the street. They were dressed in tailored velvet jackets and shiny leather boots, and their perfectly coiffed hair blew in the damp breeze.

“Good riddance,” the taller of the two men guffawed. He waved a nonchalant hand at Officer Leclair. “Just shoot them, Officer. Don’t even bother with Bastille. It’s a waste of time to get them there. Set your rayonettes to kill and do us all a favor. We could do with a few less déchets in Montfer.”

Beside her, Gabriel’s whole body stiffened, and Alouette saw his wrists strain against his cuffs.

“Oh fric off!” the madame shouted at the men. “You’re going to miss these girls, and their blood, when you have to go home to your wrinkled old wives who can’t get their hands on any more rejuvenation creams.”

Anger flashed over the taller man’s face. And then, in an instant, he was stalking toward them, rage in his dark eyes. But he didn’t go for the madame, as Alouette expected. Instead, he scooped up a handful of wet, sticky mud, and lunged for the girl closest to him. Zéphine.

Alouette felt every one of her muscles tense as she watched the man shove the handful of mud down the back of Zéphine’s dress, staining her skin and the dull yellow fabric.

Zéphine let out a piercing howl that filled the damp morning air. “How dare you, you rotten clochard!” she growled before leaping like a wild animal toward the man and sinking her fingernails into his smooth, clean-shaven cheek.

Everyone froze in their tracks. Alouette felt Heloise’s little finger clutch even tighter to her own. And then, suddenly, a strange sensation began to trickle through Alouette. It started in her chest. A clenching and tightening. Her palms tingled, like tiny needles were puncturing her skin. She felt oddly alert and numb at the same time.

It was the same sensation she’d felt in the Forest Verdure, right before she’d fought off Inspecteur Limier.

She could feel her limbs aching to move. Her hands yearning to arch, loop, strike. But the cuffs were holding her back, limiting her movement.

“You filthy blood whore!” the man yelled, his hand flying up to his scratched face. He turned to Officer Sauvage. “Keep this girl in line, will you?”

But Sauvage was already on the move. He grabbed Zéphine by the hair, spun her around, and slapped her hard across her face.

At the sound of his palm hitting Zéphine’s sickly and hollowed cheek, something unleashed inside Alouette. A million stars suddenly colliding and exploding. She felt it everywhere, from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet.

Sparking.

Burning.

A searing hot lightning strike through every part of her being.

And Alouette knew, cuffs or no, she would not, could not, hold it in.

Shoving Heloise behind her, Alouette lunged forward. Her bound fists struck. Her elbows jabbed. Her feet wheeled and sliced through the air. Every movement her body knew. Every kick and stab was written directly into her nerves and into her muscles. These were the moves of the Tranquil Forme, the meditation sequences taught to her by the sisters in the Refuge.

Except now they were sped up a thousand times.

Now they were fast and furious and powerful. Even with her hands bound.

Within seconds, Officer Leclair was on the ground. Officer Sauvage rushed forward, coming to his colleague’s aid, but another swift sweeping kick flung him backward, into the mud. His rayonette looped off in a soaring arc toward the transporteur. The two well-dressed men, who moments ago were all swagger and smirk, scurried off down the street, vanishing like terrified rats into the gray drizzle.

“Holy Fric!” Gabriel shouted from somewhere behind her. “Are you sure you’re not a croc?”

But Alouette wasn’t listening. Officer Sauvage had scrabbled up from the ground and was diving toward her. She whipped around and faced him dead on, her mind and body still alight with fire.

“And now we move into the third sequence,” she could hear Sister Laurel’s soft voice in her head. “Orbit of the Divine.”

Alouette’s elbow arched up, and with a crack, it met the officer’s jaw, throwing him off-balance and into the mud once again.

“RUN!” Alouette shouted to Madame Blanchard. “Get them out of here!”

After a stunned beat, the girls, Clodie, and the madame scattered like a flock of panicked