Gale Force Page 0,39

you do this. It's not Lewis. It's not the Wardens. Somebody's forcing you to take me out of circulation. Come on, man, we don't have to make this a throw down. We can talk about it, work it out." While I talked, I used my Earth powers, subtly sending calming vibrations to him, lulling him into a state in which he might be more inclined to listen. To trust.

Antonelli shook himself, as if he were throwing off a wrestling hold, and I knew my brief second of opportunity was gone. "Save it," he snapped. "I'm not some wet-behind-the-ears trainee. You can't con me."

And then Lee Antonelli, one of the best natural Fire Wardens I had ever seen, declared war.

I'll give him credit; it was a strategic strike, not just a general firestorm. He formed a fireball and lobbed it not at me, but at my car. Clearly, he did not understand my relationship with cars. He'd have gotten off easier if he'd gone ahead and set my hair on fire. I'd have taken it less personally.

I formed an invisible cricket bat of hardened air, swung, lined up, and hit a solid line drive, sending the fireball right back into Antonelli's midsection. It hit him hard enough to drive him against the body of the van, which rocked and creaked on its springs, and his muscle tee caught fire. He glanced down, annoyed, and brushed a hand over it. The fire went out, but there was a nice round hole with scorched edges baring his carefully developed abs. He'd had a tattoo put around his navel - a woman's face, with the navel representing her open mouth. Classy. "Bitch!" he snarled.

"Repeating yourself already? We just started," I said. I didn't alter my stance, and I didn't go after him. "Walk away. Just get in your van and go. We'll all be happier."

Only it wasn't going to happen. He was scared, and he clearly didn't think walking away from this was an option. Instead, he pointed his finger at me, and from the tip of it blazed a pinpoint of red light, hot as the sun. Coherent light, concentrated a thousand times stronger than the brightest earth-based laser developed by men.

Air wouldn't slow it down. Neither would water, although it would bend the beam and eat up some of its energy in steam. Both options were sure to fail, and I knew from experience that if he could break my concentration, he could hurt me badly enough that I'd have a hard time defending myself at all.

Instead of defense, I went for offense. I had to end this fast, before some innocent bystander traipsed out of the diner and into the line of - literally - fire.

First, I summoned up a gale-force wind that slammed into his chest and pinned him against the van. Then I took away his air.

It's damn hard to concentrate when you feel like you're suffocating. I started with the air going in, filtering out the oxygen as he gasped. Then I focused on the oxygen inside Antonelli's body - in his lungs, in his blood. I knew what I wanted to see, and it glowed bright blue for me.

I separated the hydrogen and oxygen atoms, took away an atom from the oxygen molecule, and within seconds, he was shaking in desperation, nearly out. I let him continue to breathe, because if anything it increased his panic, but I destroyed the oxygen before he could metabolize it.

There was a side effect of this, of course. Destruction creates energy, and I burned off the excess in sharp blue sparks that danced on the antenna of the van, the metal rims of the wheels, even Antonelli's showy belt buckle.

It felt as though I were killing him, in a cruel and inhumane way, and that was exactly what I wanted him to feel. I wanted him to know that I wasn't going to give in, and I wasn't going to screw around. If he wanted to play hardball, he was going to have to live through the opening innings, and I'd taken the game to the professional level.

"Think about it," I said. "I could just as easily put water in your lungs. Drowning on dry land. Sound good to you, tough guy?"

Antonelli sank to his knees, eyes wide and desperate. I hadn't noticed before, but he had brown eyes, big and somehow childlike despite all the 'roided-up muscles.

I felt oddly detached about what I was doing, but there was no way