Page 85 of Stealing Tink

The rest of the guards take a moment to stare open-mouthed at their dead comrade, just as shocked by the sound of a spirit leaving a body as I am. Then they charge.

It’s no use. It doesn’t matter that they outnumber us five to one. It doesn’t matter that I’m useless in a fight now that my hands are broken.

“I’ll take care of it,” the Nomad had said before he opened the closet door.

And with a bent piece of piping, he does.

The next time the Nomad takes the pipe to a man’s skull, I’m quick enough to look away first. That doesn’t stop the blood from spraying onto my cheek.

One of the guards thinks he’s smart and lunges for me. Out of nowhere, the pipe comes swinging and crushes the man’s throat. He falls before me, clutching it, and I suddenly get the urge to clutch my own. Not that my fingers will allow it. Normally I’d be able to look, but the sound of that man’s throat crumbling resounds in my ears, and the pain in my hands is so intense… I close my eyes.

It’s not until a gentle voice in my ear whispers, “It’s over now,” that I open them again.

Bodies, bludgeoned, litter the floor.

My heart pounds, and I can feel it in my broken fingers. The Nomad leads me, still trembling, down the hallway. When we reach the end, a hooded figure rounds the corner, sprinting. The Nomad catches them by the throat, their legs dangling off the ground as he holds them in the air with one hand, his pipe already swinging in the other.

“Wait,” cries a familiar voice. “It’s me!”

The Nomad stops the bar midair. Above him, the woman pulls off her hood. Phoenix stares down at us.

A flex of the Nomad’s fingers, and she falls to the floor, knees first.

“Even more reason to beat your skull in,” seethes the Nomad, but Phoenix rises to her feet, coming to her full height.

“I knew nothing of what Venus was planning. I was just as convinced that she was dead as the rest of you.”

“Funny, I don’t see any of your limbs tied up or crushed,” says the Nomad.

Phoenix glances at my hands, and though she doesn’t wince, a flicker of pity flashes across her face. “She made the deal without me. I never would have agreed to it had I known.”

I glance at the Nomad. We both know it’s true. Or, at least, it corroborates what Venus had said.

“I’m coming with you,” says Phoenix.

The Nomad laughs. “Presumptuous of you to think you still have a spot on the team.”

“I thought you needed me,” says Phoenix.

“Yes, well, I’m sure we can get by without you,” says the Nomad.

Not for the first time, I wonder if he took Phoenix’s power as well.

“I know you took part of Venus’s power,” says Phoenix. “Those calluses on your fingertips. They weren’t there when we met you. You burned the tips of your fingers. Made them lose feeling so that you could touch the painting and retrieve the magic too.”

Beside me, the Nomad goes still.

“Then you know I have no need of you either,” says the Nomad. “I’ll discover how to unlock the power from your portrait, then I’ll simply take it for myself.”

Phoenix shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Now why would I take Venus’s power and not yours?”

“Because you don’t want my power,” says Phoenix. “You need it, but you don’t want it. You’re scared of it.”

The Nomad laughs. “Fear is both healthy and practical depending on the dosage. Fine, I don’t have your power. But I no longer trust you.”

“You don’t have to trust me,” she says. “You just have to need me.”