Reapers - Master of Souls (Reapers Chronicles Book III)

18 - Leverage (1 of 2)

His little whispers,

"Love me, love me

That's all I ask for

Love me, love me."                    Monsters by Meg and Dia

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I stood behind the door, peeking into the arena while Vincent trained with his father. From the bleachers, Vladimir and his familiars watched in silence. Levi and Grigori stood like sentinels at the sidelines.

Vincent was sitting on the floor, crossed legged with the back of his hands resting on his knees. He was muttering some kind of mantra under his breath. When he opened his eyes, they were glowing.

Soon the torches bolstered on the walls started to catch fire one by one. The fourth torch exploded and the next two spewed out flames. It nearly got Vladimir, but Mei pushed him out of the way. Byron Flynn used himself to shield all of them, opening his mouth to swallow the flames. He was coughing by the time all of it was consumed.

"Flynn, you okay?" Amyr asked.

"This'll give me the indigestion. Otherwise, I am fine," Byron Flynn panted, clutching his stomach.

Amyr gave him a pat on the back. "I know you think you're fireproof man, but not so much when you're not your doggy self. Take it easy."

It wasn't the first batch of flames Byron Flynn had to ingest. Vincent had been screwing up all morning. I think he was mad—more than the usual—about something.

There was a hard look on Sathariel's face as he fixed his gooseberry green eyes on his son. "Focus, Vince!"

A rumble scraped out of Vincent's throat as he rammed his fist on floor.

The ground began to shift from beneath him. Smoke wafted from his skin as if all the rage in his body was burning him up.

"Use your words, Vincent. Like we practiced," Sathariel hushed. "Acting out would get your friends barbequed and we don't want that, remember?"

Vincent's jaws tensed. "It's... f-frustrating."

"Okay... That's a good start. Now, breathe."

It looked like Vincent was being strangled while sucking and puffing out air. Nonetheless, it appeared to have calmed him a little.

"You did it yesterday and the day before that. Surely you can do it now." There was something in Sathariel's gruff voice that wasn't only commanding, but most importantly, encouraging. "Take a breath... Try again!"

Vincent did as told, but like the last few tries, he had sent something flying or blew something up. And worse, Byron Flynn had to clean up the flames.

Angrily, Vincent got up and kicked the air in front of him.

"How long have we been doing this? Three weeks? All I do is light up your damn torches! And that's going to help me fight Legion how?"

Sathariel closed his eyes and took a lungful himself. "Control, Vincent. This drill's supposed to teach you control. But with the way you're acting up, I think we're going to have to go back to square one."

"For Vinci, that would indeed take a while," Vladimir confessed, brushing the soot off his shirt.

"No one asked you, Vlad. And stop. Calling me. Vinci."

The chagrin on Vladimir's face told me this session wasn't going to end with him and Vincent bromancing over lunch.

"Of course, Vincent. These days, no one ever cares to ask me anything. You do what you want when you want it without even considering the consequences because you're such a big boy now."