Chapter 7 - The Wrath of the Tides
"Fire!" Logan roared.
The mercenaries pulled their triggers simultaneously.
*RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!*
A hail of high-velocity lead tore across the penthouse office, shattering the mahogany desk, splintering the bookshelves, and punching holes through the drywall.
Aiden threw himself behind a heavy stone pillar, shielding his head as plaster dust filled the air.
When the gunfire finally stopped, the room was silent, filled with the acrid stench of cordite and burning gunpowder.
Logan lowered his smoking rifle, stepping through the cloud of smoke toward the wreckage of the desk. "Check the target. Make sure she's actually dead this time."
Two operatives stepped forward, lifting the splintered remnants of the executive desk.
There was no body.
There wasn't even a drop of blood.
Instead, where Elena had been standing a moment before, a pool of shimmering, salt-scented seawater was rapidly evaporating across the hardwood floor, leaving behind delicate patterns of white sea salt.
"What the hell...?" one operative muttered, spinning around in confusion.
"Behind you," Aiden whispered from behind his stone pillar.
Before the mercenaries could react, the temperature in the penthouse plummeted thirty degrees in a fraction of a second. The glass windows facing the harbor frosted over instantly, cracking with sharp, echoing snaps.
From the shadows near the ceiling air ducts, a figure dropped silently to the floor.
Elena.
Her eyes didn't just glow amber anymore; they burned like twin fires of molten gold. The air around her rippled with invisible kinetic energy, humming with the terrifying, suppressed power of an oceanic abyss.
Before Logan could raise his weapon, Elena flicked her wrist.
A violent, invisible wave of compressed air and sea pressure exploded outward from her hand, slamming into all four mercenaries with the force of a crashing tidal wave.
They flew backward across the room, smashing through the heavy oak double doors and crashing hard into the hallway wall, dropping their weapons as they slumped unconscious to the carpet.
Silence descended once again upon the penthouse.
Elena stood amidst the wreckage, her breathing steady, her coat trailing behind her like a shroud of dark water.
May you like
Aiden stepped out from behind the pillar, lowering the fireplace poker, his jaw practically on the floor. "Elena... what are you?"
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