Dashing Devil Omnibus 1: Books 1-3, page 2
“Do it,” Silver said with a sigh, and then she closed her eyes.
A moment later, Silver felt the strange itch in her head that she recognized from when Mind Witch had used her Power on Silver in the past.
Chapter 1
Boyd stared at the empty wall of his room. He’d never been one for superfluous decorations. He couldn’t help but picture a purple sheet with intricate knotwork drawn upon it in black marker, hanging from the plain concrete. Even thinking about it made his heart ache.
He had no right to think about her artistic efforts. Not after what he’d done to her.
He broke his eyes away from the illusionary wall hanging and scanned the rest of his fresh, spartan room. He’d been assigned a new room, away from the other Hero trainees. It was a justifiable safety measure.
Boyd had become the monster he’d feared he would for the last two years after all—right after she’d made him start to think he might not. She’d learned, in the end, that Boyd was exactly the kind of monster he appeared to be.
The room consisted of a kitchenette, a desk that was too small for him, a dresser, and a bed that his feet would hang off the end of—but that was nothing new. He’d been too big for his last room, too. Sleeping with your feet hanging over the end of the bed was fairly standard when you were seven feet tall and still growing.
He was used to it, so had managed to get three hours of sleep the night before. It was better than he’d gotten for the last two weeks. The familiarity of an empty room must have helped. They’d kept him in a holding cell in a different section of the PAC since that night; he had hardly slept for the last two weeks. The rooms, even blank as this one was, were different.
At least he had a gym, a simulation room, and access to electronic learning materials. The mostly sleepless nights had allowed him to set new personal records in several categories. He needed something to occupy his thoughts—if he didn’t focus on something, anything, they went to what he’d done.
In the end, they decided to keep him in the Hero training program. Boyd might be a monster, but even monsters could save lives—as long as they stayed focused, stayed in control, and didn’t let themselves hurt people.
Boyd could do that. He just couldn’t make the mistake of letting anyone close again.
He’d keep his focus on setting personal records. That had worked before, right after his Change. And it would work again. Self-improvement, that was the key. He’d be the best Hero he could be and just avoid anything that might distract him from that goal.
The other trainees mostly stayed out of his way, especially now. The Mentors had confirmed that rumors had spread. Boyd was last seen entering her room the evening before they both went missing and then she’d been transferred. His understanding was that rumors ran the full spectrum, with most landing on the rumor he’d done something to her that had made it impossible for her to continue as a Hero.
That wasn’t quite the truth—at least he hoped not. While she’d said she couldn’t be around him and that she never wanted to see him again, she’d made no mention of giving up on becoming a Hero. The Mentors had said that she’d transferred to a different PAC to finish her training, and they had no reason to lie.
Thinking about her words brought the look in her nearly black eyes back to his mind. The pain in them. He was the one who’d put it there. He’d hurt her.
Never again.
He’d never do that to anyone ever again. He’d even promised her he wouldn’t, and Boyd didn’t break his promises. He’d fulfill his promise and just keep his head down. He would train harder than ever and become the best Hero he could be. And maybe, just maybe, he would eventually feel like he’d done enough to atone for what he’d done.
That meant facing the other trainees and their rumors. The looks. The nervous glances and gestures his passing or presence would cause. The accusations and the jeers. The pokes and prods. He’d dealt with all of that before, though.
It had faded a bit with time, but all Changed went through it after they… well, after they changed. The ones that come out looking like classically ‘good’ beings from Old Earth’s mythology didn’t face nearly as much of a stigma. They could be trusted.
Boyd wasn’t so lucky. He’d come out of his Change looking like a demon. He was a monster, a being of evil.
The way it worked for Changed was that they ended up acting how they appeared. Look like something evil and you’d eventually feel the urge to do evil things. Those urges had to be suppressed or someone ended up getting hurt. Boyd was the perfect example.
Oh, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. If he had, he wouldn’t be permitted to continue his training with a simple promise to never be alone with another trainee ever again. His one comfort was that she knew that he hadn’t done it on purpose. He had listened to his urges, and she’d ended up getting hurt.
Never again.
He would do nothing to dissuade the rumors. Let them think he was a monster; that’s what he was. It would encourage the others to keep their distance. They only needed to know that they could trust him to have their back; which they could. They just shouldn’t let themselves be alone with him.
Best not even to tempt himself with things like friendship. That’s how it had started with her.
Boyd would accept the jeers and taunts for what they were—a test. It was better to test him as a Changed now, when everyone around him was also Powered, rather than out in the real world where civilians might get hurt. He’d passed those tests for two years and had just started to trust himself around people again. Then he’d failed.
The testing would start all over again. He donned a large sweatshirt with slots for his wings as he prepared to face those tests. The dark blue matched the pants and displayed their age group so every Mentor would know what they were dealing with at a glance. It was hard to guess ages when there were seven-foot-tall fifteen-year-olds like Boyd walking around.
After he secured the velcro that held the slots closed under his wings, he turned to face the door. Taking a deep breath, Boyd stepped towards the door and the tests that he knew lay beyond, going barefoot as he usually did to account for the thick claw-like nails on the end of his toes. He pulled his wings in tight, both to protect them and to hide them, and pressed the button that triggered the door to slide into the wall.
He faced his first test immediately. Out in the hall, one of the Mentors was waiting for him to appear. Victory Seeker’s piercing gaze bore into Boyd’s soul.
“I had hoped my counsel might sway you,” the Mentor said, his words tinged with disappointment. “Yet it seems you remain blind to your unsuitability to be a Hero. While you are undoubtedly skilled and intelligent, that does not absolve you of your transgressions.”
Boyd’s voice held a firm resolve, unwavering even under Victory Seeker’s scrutiny.
“I have considered your counsel,” he declared, amber eyes meeting green in an unspoken challenge. “Your wisdom has driven me to continue my training, and to strive for excellence. As you are fond of saying, every Powered has a responsibility. I was born Powered, Sir, and I will use my Power to save lives—even if I also am a Changed.”
Victory Seeker’s lips twisted into a scowl, his frustration plain to see. “Your presence taints the very essence of Heroism,” he retorted, his tone dripping with disdain. “At best, you are a distraction… at worst the source of doubt in the minds of those you should protect and those who fight beside you. That’s to say nothing of your corrupting influence…” His nose crinkled in disgust as he regarded Boyd. “Anyone you form personal attachments to would be at risk.”
“Which is why I won’t allow myself any, Sir. I’ve learned my lesson. I thought I could allow myself just the one, but only because of who she was. I was wrong and she got hurt. I won’t let it happen again. No more personal attachments.” Boyd kept his shoulders set and held the Mentor’s gaze.
He would not be deterred. He would become one of The Authority’s Heroes. That was his sole purpose; it was the only thing he had left.
“No personal attachments. I promise,” Boyd said. “I won’t allow myself to endanger others again.”
Victory Seeker’s gaze bore even deeper into Boyd, a glint of begrudging approval slipping through his stern exterior. “Your words hold weight, Boyd,” he conceded, though the admission seemed to pain him. “Your actions, however, will be the true testament to your commitment. If you truly aim to prove your dedication to this path, then I expect you to keep to your word.”
Boyd met Victory Seeker’s gaze without flinching. “You have my promise, Sir,” he affirmed, his voice carrying the weight of his sincerity. Boyd didn’t break his promises. “I will strive to uphold the ideals of The Authority and avoid all personal entanglements that could compromise my mission.”
Victory Seeker studied his face for a long moment, before giving a single nod.
“If you assign me a punishment because I misused my Power, I’ll accept it. But I won’t give up on being a Hero. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be late for training on my first day back.”
A rare flicker of something nearing approval crossed Victory Seeker’s stern face. “Very well,” he conceded, his tone begrudging. “I shall be watching you closely, Boyd. Not only because I doubt your strength, but to ensure that I am there for your next moment of weakness.”
It was as much a threat as a promise; that much the Mentor made clear with his eyes. If Boyd were to fail and allow his Power to strip another of their free will, Victory Seeker would be there to administer the appropriate punishment—and stripping people of their free will was punishable by death under The Authority’s laws.
Boyd nodded, additional determination filling him. “I welcome the extra eyes,” he replied, a touch of gratitude underlying his words. “In case there is a moment when my resolve falters, protect the victim. Please.”
Victory Seeker straightened, pushing away from the wall with a curt nod. “Good,” he stated, his tone still stern but slightly less adversarial. “Remember, Boyd, the greatest strength often lies in our ability to uphold our principles even when tested. Do not disappoint me. No personal connections.”
Boyd stood tall, his amber eyes unwavering. “I won’t forget… no personal connections,” he assured Victory Seeker, his conviction echoing through the room.
Never Again.
With a final nod, Victory Seeker turned to leave, the weight of his presence lingering even after he’d departed. Boyd returned his attention to the barren wall, his thoughts a mix of determination and anticipation for the challenges that lay ahead.
When Boyd strode down the corridor, his steps were measured and purposeful. The sterile walls of the training facility seemed to close in on him, a constant reminder of his journey’s uncertainty. As he approached the main section, where the sparse stream of trainees walked, he scanned both ways, his amber eyes searching for any sign of metallic silver or bright white.
Keeping his long, slender spade-tipped tail from lashing in agitation, Boyd began walking towards the training room. The concrete walls and metal sliding doors of the Powered Adolescent Center, or PAC, were nondescript. Colored numbers posted on beams across the ceiling told him exactly where he was in relation to where he needed to be.
The first segment of his walk was peaceful. The section of the underground center they’d put him in was all but empty. Eventually, though, he would have to share the halls with the other trainees in his age group. They were all separated by age and kept on different floors, although some of the specialty training was done in smaller, cross-age groups. There were about fifty of them left in the Hero program and all of them would probably make it through.
Most of the transfers seemed to happen to kids in the ten to fourteen age group—when kids that Changed became… what they became. Thirty kids from their group had Changed, and most had decided that it made being a Hero too hard for them. They couldn’t control themselves well enough.
There were only a few Changed left, including another guy like him with a monstrous appearance. Daryl had a long serpentine tail instead of legs and could call lightning from the sky—or the ceiling, if not outside. Really, it was from about ten feet above his target.
It was a fairly useful Power for incapacitating targets. And since he, so far, had restrained himself from attacking another trainee, he’d been allowed to continue in the Hero program. Daryl was a couple of years ahead of Boyd and most of the testing had stopped for him.
There was also a girl who had sprouted black fur all over her body, along with cat ears and a tail. It worked well with her invisibility and otherwise stealthy Power set. Animal Changed were a mixed bag. For the most part, the other trainees left Shelia alone after testing revealed she was more likely to flee than to fight. Plus, he was sure plenty of bullies had been left feeling foolish after shouting insults at a position she had long since abandoned.
Then there was Hopewing. She was not monstrous, though—quite the opposite. Her change befitted her sweet and compassionate demeanor. Hopewing became an angel when she’d Changed.
Boyd approached the junction between halls where he first expected to encounter other trainees and glanced both ways for signs of her attention-grabbing, white, feathered wings. Hopewing served as a solid marker for her constant companion, the one person Boyd did not wish to encounter this morning.
She was the one who was most likely to make achieving his goal of zero personal attachments difficult. Not seeing any signs of white wings or silver hair, Boyd joined the stream of trainees on the way from the mess hall to their first training room. He only hoped his luck held.
Eyes turned to stare at him. A seven-foot-tall demon announced their presence, no matter how hard he tried to avoid doing so. Most of the other trainees were normal sized for their age, if more athletic than you might expect to see in a group of teens. They all wore dark blue, just like him, although that didn’t help him blend in at all.
The ones he walked with gave him a wide berth. He still heard hushed voices pick up the moment he entered the main hall. Fortunately, he reached the door to the training room without incident. At least there’d been no accusations or questions.
Unfortunately, he was a few minutes early. The walk through the empty halls had taken less time than he’d planned. He would account for that tomorrow. Today, though, it left him standing with the other trainees, waiting for the doors to open.
“You’re back.” It wasn’t a question, nor did it come from a friendly voice.
Boyd glanced at the speaker. “Good morning, Cobolto.” He looked away, hoping to avoid any further engagement at all. He’d managed to hold back a snort, just like he’d had to do ever since Stephen had named himself Cobolto. To make matters worse, Boyd had to address the other teen by the ridiculous name—with a straight face.
“That’s it?” the athletically built middling height youth sneered.
Boyd glanced down at him just in time to watch him pull his medium length, brown hair out of his eyes. Now that they had some choices in how they kept their hair, Cobolto had grown his out.
“Good morning, Boyd… No ‘I’m sorry for costing the world another Hero’? I heard Mind Witch transferred out after spending a night with you.”
Middling described Cobolto quite well. He was about middle of the pack in terms of talent amongst their age group, despite his S-Ranked Energy Manipulation ability. His Blue Bolts were certainly something. Unfortunately, the ability of the person who wielded them was questionable at best. He just never seemed to get it.
“Mind Witch transferred to another facility to continue her training. She’s not a drop out,” Boyd corrected the only fact he would. Let them think whatever else they wanted, but he would squash any rumor that she’d quit. Mind Witch was not a quitter. She’d survived her encounter with a monster and walked away with her head held high and back straight.
“So… what?” Cobolto pressed. “You only messed her up bad enough that she couldn’t stand to be around you? Did she finally see your true colors?”
The truth stung, especially coming from another’s mouth. But Boyd welcomed it. It would make it easier for him to keep his distance from everyone. Boyd didn’t bother to respond. He kept his eyes on an empty spot on the wall. It might have been better to confidently confirm Cobolto’s words, but Boyd still needed to be able to work with these people.
Something like that would make it difficult, if not impossible.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” the smaller youth pressed.
The other trainees listened intently. A hush fell on the gathered teens, waiting to begin their morning training routines.
“You know,” Cobolto continued, “I warned her. When I first saw you two were spending time together. I told her…”
“Leave him alone, Cobolto,” Silver said the name with the mocking tone Boyd always wanted to, but didn’t.
She continued with sunshine and sweetness in her voice. “Good morning, Boyd. I’m so glad to see you’re back with us. We missed you.”
Her voice was so pretty. He hated it. Again, Boyd chose to remain silent. He’d already realized it would be the only way to deal with her. Silver was engaging, and a good talker. If you weren’t careful, she would get you talking. Then, soon enough, you wouldn’t want to stop talking to her. That was an attachment Boyd couldn’t afford.
Never again.
“Boyd?” Silver asked after a moment.
She waved a hand in front of his face. “Helloooo. Are you seriously ignoring me?”
“Why are you even bothering?” Cobolto sneered. “He clearly doesn’t want…”
“Shut up, Cobolto,” Silver snapped at the other boy before stepping deliberately in front of Boyd and floating up into the path of his gaze so that he had to look at her, supported by the silver motes of energy she summoned to her hands.
