Waking up was like getting cymbals crashed together by his ears, but a lot more unpleasant. Dexter groaned and rolled onto his back, pulling the thin hotel blankets up around his waist. His head was pounding and he had a dry mouth. "A mouth like Gandhi's flipflop". He had heard someone say that once, maybe when he killed that vampire that time. He didn't know which time exactly; he'd killed a lot of vampires.
He licked his lips. For a moment he allowed himself to hope that it wasn't going to be too bad, but he couldn't kid himself for long. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Dexter Vex sat up. His head throbbed and he groaned.
Realising he needed water now, Dexter forced himself to stand. Good God, his head hurt. He walked with heavy feet to his suitcase and pulled out some jeans. He yanked them on, disappointed with the amount of effort it took. A wave of nausea passed through him. He stumbled to the small kitchen space and poured himself a big glass of water. As an after thought, he poured a second. He took some of the weird named headache pills from a drawer and took two of them. He drank the rest of the water as fast as he could before slipping the pills into his pocket. Everything hurt and the world seemed sluggish. He walked back to his bed and picked up his mobile from the table beside it. Dexter took a second to gaze longingly at the soft looking mattress, before opening his phone. A voicemail from Ghastly and China apiece, and two from Skulduggery, always being different. He checked the time and moaned. He shoved his phone into his pocket.
" Saracen!" he called, and then winced. He wouldn't be shouting again. He went to the kitchen and picked up the second glass of padded to the bedroom door. Dexter prayed that his friend would be decent. He kicked open the door and it hit the wall with a reasonably loud tap. Saracen was sprawled across his bed, fully covered and thankfully alone, which came as a surprise to Dexter. Saracen always found ways to charm women into spending the night with him, to put it politely. Dexter didn't mind, as long as he had time to cringe and put a pillow around his ears.
"Saracen." he said again, moving to stand over his friend. Saracen didn't react. Dexter kicked the bed and made it jolt a few inches to the right. "Saracen." he said.
"Wake up." said Dexter, kicking again. Nothing. Not a peep.
Dexter sighed and reached down, wrapping his hand around Saracen's blankets. A smile formed on his lips. He didn't know if Saracen was clothed so Dexter prepared himself to turn away. Dexter hesitated but then said "You brought this on yourself." and ripped the covers off.
Saracen yelped like a puppy whose paw had just been stood on, and Dexter knew the deed was done. He tried not to laugh as he knew his friend wouldn't take it well. Dexter turned away, avoiding his friends nakedness. He heard rustling as Saracen pulled on his clothes. His dirty clothes.
"You decent?" asked Dexter.
"Nnhhhggr."
"Brilliant." said Dexter, turning back around. Saracen was now wearing trousers and a grey shirt. He held out the glass to Saracen and he took it. Dexter fished in his pocket for the headache pills and passed them to Saracen. He grunted in thanks and took them.
"Why?" said Saracen, his voice hoarse and scratchy
"We have a flight to catch in a few hours." Dexter said, and then, "Sorry."
Saracen waved a hand as if to say 'dont worry about it'. He groaned. "My brain hurts."
"I know." said Dexter.
"Everything hurts."
"I know." said Dexter.
"Our last night in Vegas wasn't exactly memorable." muttered Saracen distantly.
"Why?" said Dexter, confused. He'd had a good time, to be honest.
"Because I can't remember it."
Dexter smiled. "I did warn you."
"I don't remember you warning me."
"You don't remember anything."
"That," said Saracen, "Is an annoyingly good point."
Dexter walked out of the room and to the kitchen and got himself another glass of water. He sipped it. "Do you want food?" he asked Saracen.
"I am not going down to breakfast." said Saracen quietly, rubbing his head.
"Okay." said Dexter, watching as Saracen tried to sit down on the stool by the breakfast bar. It took him two tries. After he was settled, he put his head in his hands. Then he sat up. Then he put his head on the table. Then he groaned.
"I just need to lie down and not move for about ten hours." he whimpered. "My head hurts."
"Mm." said Dexter.
"My brain feels like its swollen."
"That would explain a lot." muttered Dexter to himself. Saracen didn't hear.
"My mouth feels like I threw up. There's no taste there, but I just feel like I threw up, you know?" said Saracen I also have aches in my legs and arms. Was I dancing? I was probably dancing. Oh God I was probably dancing, Dexter. I don't dance. You dance! Girls like it when you dance! I look like an idiot when I dance!"
Dexter flinched.
"Sorry, I'll stop shouting. God, I feel so awful, I'm dying. This is it. The end. My life is over. Everything hurts and-"
"Saracen, I don't say this often, but shut up." said Dexter, exasperated. His head ached and he could barely keep track of what Saracen was saying.
Saracen considered this, "You do say that often." he decided.
"I do." agreed Dexter, "But I thought it would make you be quieter more quickly if I was mean."
"No. But for my sake, not yours I will go and get a shower. I have a sticky, clammy feeling on my skin, and I'm afraid it's vomit."
Dexter lips quirked into a smile as he watched Saracen drag himself to the bathroom. Dexter took his glass of water and sat on the armchair by the window. The view looked out onto the iconic Las Vegas. The sun was just beginning to rise and it sent beams of light through the sparse clouds to shine onto the windows of buildings. With the orange hue of the sky growing deeper by the second, Dexter found his eyes drooping.
They had come to Vegas a week and a half ago, their pockets (or more accurately bank accounts) full of money that they had been saving for years. After both of their near death experiences during the fall of Darquesse, they had both decided that they needed a break. Or at least Saracen had. Dexter had been in critical condition for weeks, which was in its own way impressive considering the capabilities of medical science magic these days. Half of his teeth had been missing, and his jaw shattered. His innards were in pieces. What had saved him? Luck.
The doctors said it was a miracle, but Dexter didn't really believe in miracles. When he told (by the form of a whiteboard and pen) that he didn't, they said "Well you must of been determined to live then, Mr Vex.". That wasn't true either. Dexter couldn't remember any of it. He woke up in a bed in the medical wing in Sanctuary with God knows how many tubes in him, unable to talk and agony in his every thought. The pain was so great he just wanted it to end.
But it didn't. He endured. Despite all odds, he recovered. It took two months to be able to stand again, and another few months for them to reassemble his vocal cords and make him new teeth. Saracen had always joked that they shouldn't of bothered, or at least Dexter hoped he was joking. Saracen had been crushed by a wall but escaped with five broken ribs, a broken leg and arm (on the same side), and the worst thing according to Saracen, a bitten tongue.
Dexter Vex had scars now. Not where near as many as Ghastly, but enough. They were kind of disappointing as scars went. They didn't look brave. They were all straight and well calculated lines that came from them cutting him up and fixing his insides. There was a horizontal one on his neck, just below the hollow of his throat. There was a vertical one on his chest that stretched down towards his bellybutton but stopped before it reached it. He also had several on his back. It didn't really bother Dexter. At least he lived.
When he had recovered, Saracen preposed that they should take a break from everything. It sounded like a good idea to Dexter, so they began to muse on where to go. Dexter suggested going to see the Seven Wonders of the World, but Saracen said no. "It's needs to be a break." He had insisted.
"It will be?" Dexter had told him, confused.
"With you? God, no. You'd spend half the time talking about your adventures."
"You know I'll do that anyway." said Dexter, unoffended. It was true and he didn't mind.
They had chosen Vegas simply because it was so normal. Two guys taking a well earned break to Vegas? It sounded like the plot of a movie. It was perfect.
Unfortunately, it was expensive. Really expensive. None of them had the money for the sort of experience they were wanting. What was the point of going, Saracen said, if they didn't have the full package? The "full package" as Saracen had put it, included decent flights for the long journey, a fancy hotel with an even fancier casino, money for bars and restaurants, souvenirs and travel. It was insane. But hey it was fine because they needed a break. They saved up. Scraped the money together. Worked with one another on what Saracen called "adventures" and began to take money for jobs. Dexter didn't usually take money, so it was interesting to find out how much people were willing to pay. It was quite a lot.
After two years they booked the holiday. After another six months they were on the plane. Finally. When they arrived they took a (brief) moment to sort out their things before Saracen virtually dragged Dexter out to the nearest bar. Dexter only remembered half of the night. Which wasn't surprising. Saracen brought out the worse in him, Dexter liked to think.
Their routine began and Dexter did end up enjoying himself, after he forced Saracen to tone it down a bit. They had a great holiday, but now it was time to go back.
Dexter forced his eyes open and blinked in the growing light that hurt his eyes. He swallowed down his feelings of nausea. After recovering, he took out his mobile and opened the voicemail from China first.
"Mr Vex." she said in greeting, "I have booked you onto a flight this evening. Please get on the plane, you have work to do. I'll be see you soon."
It ended and Dexter muttered "charming" before checking the time when the voicemail arrived. He sighed when he saw. China would of calculated the time difference and the message arrived at around midday yesterday, which meant they missed the flight. That wasn't good. China wouldn't be happy.
Next he opened the two from Skulduggery, as they came after China.
"Hello, Dexter." began Skulduggery, "I don't mean to interrupt your essentially important holiday-"
"Yes he does." called Valkyrie from what sounded like the other side of the room. Dexter could practically hear the lok Skulduggery must of given Valkyrie.
"But we have a problem on our hands, and-"
"We can't do it without you!" said Valkyrie in a mocking sing song voice.
"Shut up. Ignore her. She's just upset that she's not the centre of attention anymore. Kindly make your way-"
There was a thump and the call went dead. Dexter frowned and clicked the second voicemail.
"Sorry about that. My lovely, caring, partner decided to throw something at me, and it happened to knock my phone out of my hand."
"You were being annoying!"
"Whose being annoying now? I'm trying to leave a message. Shush. "
There was another thump and Dexter smiled.
"Stop throwing things at me!" said Skulduggery indignantly. "Now, Dexter- ow. Right stop. Enough. Ouch." Skulduggery seemed irritated and mildly amused, but not angry. "Just get on a plane, Dexter!" he called into the phone. Then Dexter heard Valkyrie shriek as there was a crash, and the message ended. Those two were perfect for each other. More of a match for each other.
"Hi, Dexter. I thought I'd talk to you before China gets hold of you again. You might want to head back, its important. Ravel- Erskine had an army of sorcerers that we're trying to tack down... it's hard to explain. There's a powerful sensitive and a shapeshifter, if that gives you incentive. The next voicemail will probably be from China, so prepare yourself. See you soon, hopefully. Bye."
The message finished and Dexter frowned. The message had convinced him that they needed to get back. Things were beginning to happen and Dexter liked to know what he was facing before he had to face it. Erskine Ravel having a secret army of powerful sorcerers was a disturbing thought, as nobody had noticed. If nobody had noticed an army then who knew what else still lingered from Ravel's plans? It had been years since all that happened and it was supposed to be over, but it seemed to Dexter that Erskine's roots were anchored deeper than what they had first assumed. More people could still be out there. People who were alone and confused, which made them dangerous and the people around them vulnerable. It was unsettling. And Ghastly had mentioned a powerful sensitive. Though surely if he really was as powerful as Ghastly thought then his disappearance to the army would of been noticed. Powerful sorcerers attached attention from all sorts of people, but the new people seemed to be appearing from nowhere. This begged the question; where the hell was Ravel getting these people?
Then came the brief mention of the shapeshifter. There hadn't been one of those in years. Not because it was a bad ability to have but because it was dangerous. Dexter supposed that if the people didn't have knowledge about the magic community then they wouldn't of known what branches of magic were the most difficult. The last shapeshifter he'd had a conversation with had been one of his best friends, and even he had said the shapeshifter was a painful area of magic. The results, his friend had said, were worth it, but it took work. His friend, whom was often said to have many faces, was always practising his ability and fine tuning it, making sure that every change was smooth and instinctual. This new shapeshifter had a lot of work ahead of them, dangerous work. Even his friend Hopel-
Saracen came out of the bathroom and collapsed into another armchair. He had two towels wrapped around him and water drilled from his hair. His eyes were wide and stared into space.
"Are you okay?" asked Dexter.
"Great, yeah." said Saracen, beaming. "Fantastic."
Dexter raised his eyebrows, "Really?" he said.
"No." sighed Saracen miserably, "I threw up."
"What? Where?"
"In the toilet. I think"
Dexter breathed in relief. "Could of been worse." he admitted. "I'm going to take a shower now. Try not to throw up."
"Thanks."
After getting out of the shower, drying himself off, and putting on some clothes, Dexter exited the bathroom to find Saracen packing up his things. Saracen looked up at the sound of the door opening and Dexter raised his eyebrows at him.
"What?" Saracen said, "I just want to get on the damn plane so I can sleep."
Dexter shrugged. "Fair enough." he said, and began to gather his things together. It was surprising to discover how spread out their belongings were after such a short amount of time. Clothes were everywhere and everything was unbearably creased. After gathering a rather large pile of clothes, Dexter began to pack his suitcase. His packing technique was very practical and in his mind, flawless. Years of travelling had allowed him to perfect a way to pack, and he was quite proud of it.
Dexter noticed a few things were missing, and they happened to be essential. His passport, boarding card, shoes, and phone charger weren't there. Dexter frowned and walked into Saracen's room. He was shoving clothes unceremoniously into his suitcase and most of them were scrunched into tight balls in his haste.
"Hey have you seen my passport?" asked Dexter, starting small. If Saracen really did just 'know' things, then Dexter hoped that his friend 'knew' where his things were.
"Your passport is in the drawer by your bed," began Saracen, turning to face Dexter. "Oh and your boarding card is in the- wait..." Saracen closed his eyes, "One, two, three, four, five..." His eyes opened. "Yes, in the fifth page of your passport. Approximately. Your shoes are under your bed covered by a hotel towel, and your phone charger is behind the couch. Your watch has fallen between the gap in cushions on the couch."
Dexter fought the urged to aggressively roll his eyes. "My watch was missing? he said mildly.
"Yes, but I think that's everything." said Saracen.
"Great." said Dexter, " he paused and then, " Your power is wasted on you."
"Ah, but then how would you be able to find anything? You need me."
"I could find it on my own, and who says you would know where everything is? You don't know everything."
"No, but I know things."
Dexter grimaced, "Any chance you'll tell me what your power is?"
Saracen smiled and tapped his nose. "I know things." he said.
Dexter gritted his teeth in annoyance but said nothing.
Everything was packed and it was time to go. The room was a mess with towels everywhere, rubbish stranded in strange places, and dirty dishes on the kitchen counters. Dexter felt bad about that, but Saracen was convinced that they were going to be late because neither of them really knew where they were going. That was true and it made Dexter feel a little better about leaving such a mess in a fancy hotel, but he still left some dollars as a tip and quick apology. He hoped the cleaners didn't mind. Dexter voiced his concerns to Saracen but he just rolled his eyes and said that it would be fine.
Dexter turned to look at Saracen. "Right," he said, "Have we forgotten anything?"
"No." said Saracen, "Hang on, wait...in fact no."
"Great." said Dexter, "Let's go." Dexter picked up his suitcase handle and walked to the door, dragging his suitcase on its wheels behind him. He pulled the door open and walked out. Saracen followed. They stood out in the corridor side by side for a moment, gazing at their admittedly fithly room. They were quiet until Saracen said;
"I'll miss this."
Dexter looked at him.
"Not the mess, obviously," continued Saracen, "but the memories, you know?"
"Don't get emotional on me, Saracen, I can see the tears glistening in your eyes."
Saracen pretended not to hear. "Ah, Vegas." he sighed mournfully, "The days an adventure, the nights spent with women who found me irresistible-"
"I really don't want to hear this." said Dexter quickly.
"Fine. Point is, I'll miss it. I felt like I belonged here-"
"Saracen, we were here for ten days."
"Which goes to show how much of an impression it's made on me." snapped Saracen, but with good humours. He smiled sadly. "Goodbye, Vegas."
"You done?" inquired Dexter.
"Yes. Let's go."
They walked down the corridor, their wheeled suitcases making a click clacking noise every time they crossed a tile on the polished floor. They walked in silence, the hotel quiet. As they got into the lift that would lead them to the lobby, Dexter saw Saracen stiffen. He immediately went on guard. He knew what that meant.
"What?" he asked quietly as the lift went down.
"Could be nothing," said Saracen softly, "but there's a man down there looking really restless. Sweaty, looking around but mostly at the elevator, nervous. Eager maybe?"
"Waiting for us?"
"Possibly?" Saracen's brow furrowed, "A few other people sat on the couches, but they look normal."
The lift continued down. One floor left.
"The guy has no weapons on him but he's definitely waiting for the lift to come down." Saracen said quickly. "Just act normal, its probably nothing. Be on guard."
Dexter nodded.
The doors of the lift opened and they strolled out, Dexter not even glancing at the man Saracen had been talking about. Dexter smiled at Saracen.
"Are you sure you have the passports?" he asked.
"Yes," insisted Saracen in a similar tone. "Don't worry."
"Good, you know what you're like."
"Mm," said Saracen, "but I'm sure."
Dexter didn't dare glance at the man Saracen was talking about. Instead he made his way to the counter to check out, his pace steady and leisurely, even though his thoughts were tense and anxious.
The woman at the desk gave them both a smile. "Good morning!" she said brightly. "Here to check out?"
Dexter noticed that her shiny name tag read Hilary. She had blonde hair that looked dyed and brown eyes. He could feel the man's gaze. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
"Yes please." said Saracen warmly.
"Okay." said Hilary, typing into her computer. "Key card?"
Dexter gave it to her. She slid it into a machine and it beeped.
"This will take a minute." she explained, "It's just procedure."
"No problem." said Saracen.
Dexter fought the urge to turn around and look at the man. He could feel him looking at them, and he wanted to turn around. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch. Maybe a little glance would be okay? Then at least he'd know whether or not to worry...normal guys standing around didn't notice a casual surveying of the room, Dexter thought.
"So where are you off to?" asked Hilary. The machine with their keycard in was making a whirring sound.
"Home." said Saracen, "Ireland."
"Ah," said Hilary with a smile at Saracen. "I thought I recognised the accent."
Saracen smiled back. Dexter was too preoccupied to care. "I'll miss this place," said Saracen, glancing around the lobby.
"Yeah, me too." added Dexter and took the opportunity to look around also. He looked at the man. Tall, with only a little muscle. He had black hair with streaks of grey and white, which matched his short beard. Their eyes met momentarily, the man had grey eyes. Dexter turned away from him.
Hilary and Saracen were smiling at it each other and Dexter tried his best not to groan. How long had he turned away for? It had to be mere seconds.
"I kind of wish you were staying now," said Hilary, raising an eyebrow.
"Me too." said Saracen as the machine beeped.
Hilary's smile grew. Dexter cleared his throat and nodded to the machine.
"Oh," she said softly as if she'd forgotten all about it. "Sorry." she murmured. Her cheeks turned pink and she fumbled with the machine for a bit, flustered. "Here." she handed it to Saracen, "Thank for staying with us, we wish you a fantastic onwards journey."
Rehearsed words, noted Dexter. Saracen gave her a sad parting smile.
"Really?" said Dexter.
"Oops." said Saracen.
They walked away from the desk together and found the man standing in their path. Not threateningly, but in the way. He looked...cold. His face was expressionless, as smooth and still as if it was made of stone. Dexter's hand tightened on his suitcase handle. He'd always hated waiting for something to happen. They walked up to the man.
Dexter was expecting a confrontation, so it was a surprise when the man smiled warmly, moved, and featured for them to pass. Hesitant but not wanting to arouse suspicion, they walked past. Dexter wondered if the other people in the lobby could sense the almost electric atmosphere in the room.
It came almost as a relief when the man attacked, but it the feeling was ruined when Dexter was catapulted through the air into a wall. A hard wall. He grunted in pain, but managed to get up. He shook off the rattled feeling his brain had gotten from the impact. He looked up to see Saracen swing his suitcase at the man's face. It hit the area of his shoulder, neck, and head and the man stumbled. The overfull suitcase burst open and Saracen's belongings spilled out across the gleaming tiled floor. The man recovered and punched Saracen in the gut. Saracen nearly doubled over but fought it and threw a lunch of his own. It was a lucky shot and landed on his opponents jaw, making him reel backwards. The man spat out a gob of blood.
Dexter ran forward to assist, noticing for the first time that there was a large, black, burn mark where he had been standing when the man first attacked. Before he could reach the man, he raised his hand, and a bright almost movie like bolt of lightning fkew from his fingertips towards Dexter. Dexter dived to avoid it, not liking the way it singed the floor. Magic in a public place was also not good; that meant the man was dangerous.
"Call 911!" shouted Hilary to the people in the lobby. She was peering over the desk, her mouth an 'o' in shock, still trying to convince herself that she didn't see what she thought she saw. Dexter didn't have that luxury.
Dexter's hands glowed and he fired beams at the man, but he avoided them with ease. Several civilians were frantically fumbling with their mobile phones, trying to stop themselves from shaking so they could punch in the three numbers. Dexter cursed internally, but maybe it was for the best it the cops showed up.
Their opponent took care of it. He raised his hands and twisted them fiercely to the side, and all the phones made popping noises as electricity burst from them. The people gasped in pain as the mobiles burnt their hands. Saracen went to hit the man again while he was distracted, but the man just turned and placed his hands on Saracen and there was a fizz and Saracen flew back. He landed hard, and groaned. Injured but still alive, noted Dexter.
Dexter fired more streams at the man, who returned fire with thin spears of lightning. Dexter kept moving and avoiding, looking for weak spots or anything that would help him. He noticed an emergency telephone in the corner of the room. Someone should call the police because there was a chance tha they could help Dexter survive this encounter. They'd just have to get a sensitive to change what they thought happened afterwards. No one else had noticed the we emergency phone. He found himself by the desk that Hilary was cowering behind. She looked close to hysteria. He looked at her until her caught her eye and then looked to the emergency telephone on the other side of the room from her. Her mouth set in a grim line and she gave him minuscule nod, still scared but determined.
Dexter's brief distraction allowed the man to clip his shoulder with a shot. Dexter hissed as it burnt through his clothes and burrowed into his skin. The shot made his entire arm spasm. A beam of enegry shot from his hand and up into the air. It hit the expensive chandelier and it was severed from the ceiling. To Dexter, it seemed to fall in slow motion. When it hit the ground it shattered into thousands of diamond like pieces. People screamed as shards were thrown in every direction. A rather large and sharp shard flew towards Dexter and sliced open his calf. He grunted as blood began to trickle down his leg and onto his sock.
Hilary took the moment to run for the phone. She ran around the desk and sprinted for the emergency phone, avoiding the metal frame of the chandelie that kay in her path. Dexter fired somemore at the man to try and keep the attention on him so Hilary could get to the phone. Hilary's small heels hindered her and she slipped on the glass shards and went down. She threw out her hands to catch her fall and gasped as tiny fragments pierced her skin. She paused but then slowly stood up, her tights ripped and her knees bleeding. Her lips was bleeding as well and Dexter assumed she had bitten it on the way down.
The man turned and looked at Hilary, who seemed to falter. Dexter raised his hand and felt it get warm until a beam shot from it. The beam hit the man in the back and sent him onto his knees. Hilary stood still, like a rabbit caught in the headlights, but after a moment she seemed to snap out of her trance. She moved to run. Dexter paused to admire her courage, and raised his hand to fire at the man again. He hesitated when he saw the man's own hands raised, and it took his brain a while to react. Dexter sprinted towards the man, firing as he ran, but his steps and pace made his aim off.
The man fired and Hilary ducked as the wall behind her cracked and crumbled. The wall had a black mark on it in the shape of a diamond and singe marks in an oval around that. Hilary saw it and took a whispy little breath, the sound made when someone wants to scream but can't remember how to.
Dexter wrapped his arm around the man's neck, but he didn't seem to even notice. Dexter tried pulling the man's arm down but he was too strong. Dimly, he noticed that Saracen was up and running towards their little scuffle. Dexter tightened but he couldn't stop the man from firing again. Lightning cracked and Dexter's ears rang.
Hilary, to her credit, tried to avoid it, but no one is faster than lightning. She seemed to see it coming and her mouth opened to- what? Cry out? Scream? Ask for help? She didn't get one syllable out, and was silent when the lightning spear hit her eye and burrowed into her brain. She was dead before she hit the ground.
People screeched and screamed in horror. Dexter didn't know what he was feeling. He didn't know what Saracen was feeling either, when he ran over and helped restrain the man who'd just killed Hilary. Dexter noticed that his arm was no longer around his throat. He shook of the muddled feeling in his brain and imagined flicking a sort of switch in his head; deal with emotions later. Dexter worked on pulling the man's hands behind his back, which was easier said than done. The man was surprisingly strong considering it was two on one. Saracen had an arm around the man's throat as well but despite all this, the man bucked and hissed and cursed.
Dexter noticed that the man's skin was warm. Very warm. Hot, now. Getting hotter. Then it clicked. He raised his eyes to Saracen's and Dexter watched his eyes widen as he realised. In a split second, they both got up and dived away from the man. Dexter slid across the floor and curled up, his arms around to protect his head. A moment later and a burst of lightning and electricity launched itself from the man's entire body, throwing out a shockwave that threw Dexter's body back. There wasn't even a huge noise, likendexzter would of expected, it was more of a fizz. Out of nowhere, Dexter began to spasm, legs and arms everywhere, every muscle tensing and flailing. The fizz sound faded and Dexter was numb. His body stopped spasming but still his limbs twitched every so often. He didn't know how long he lay there, but he couldn't get up until he felt his legs again.
Slowly, in pain, and groaning, Dexter got up. His knees were still trembling slightly, but he forced himself forward. Smoke clouded the air and glass from the high windows in the lobby was strewn around the ground. He noticed a figure in the smoke. Saracen. He was lying on the ground, moaning, his body still jerking. At the sound of footsteps, Saracen's eyes opened. He seemed to gain control over himself. Dexter held out a hand and helped him up, his arm looped over his shoulder.
The smoke was beginning to clear as the wind from the windows dispersed it. Dexter saw small fires burning the more flammable things. The blast had knocked over candles, and a fire was brewing. He led them to a wall and pulled the fire alarm, and the shrill wail pierced the air.
Dextersaw for the first time that the man was gone, the only evidence of his existence a black mark on the floor. At the moment it didn't matter, him and Saracen had to get away from the damn hotel before the cops appeared and started asking awkward questions. They also needed a sensitive to come over and start wiling minds, but that wasn't an option at the moment.
Saracen nudged him as they approached the door. Dexter looked at him and Saracen nodded over his shoulder. People were standing there, staring at them as the fire spread. Their faces were blackened and several were bleeding from various wounds, but all of them were on their feet, and not moving.
"The hell are you doing?!" shouted Dexter in bewilderment, his voice hoarse from the smoke. When he shouted, people jumped. Their shocked eyes were wide and showed fear. Not at the fire, but at them. "Get out of here! Don't you see the fire?" he cried incredulously. The people didn't move. Dexter didn't know what to do.
Apparently, Saracen did. "Didn't you hear him?" he roared, "Go!"
That did it. The people ran past them on the way out. Some were hobbling slightly from the twitching in their legs. Some threw frightened looks their way.
Dexter let go of Saracen as his body had returned to normal. They jogged out, away from the growing fire.
When they were out in the daylight, Saracen turned to him.
"We have to go." he said.
"I know." replied Dexter, listening to the alarm. He heard shouts from upper floors as people tried to get out.
"Everyone should be fine." murmured Saracen slowly, "The fire will take a while to spread. We can't be here when the police arrive."
"Yeah, I know." said Dexter turning away. "Let's go."
They began to look for a car to steal.
I hoped you liked this chapter. Please vote and comment! This chapter was meant to be 3000 words (my version of brief) but it kind of turned into something else.
Recently, people have been saying amazing things about my sorry and I just wanted to express how much that means to me. It's stuff like those comments that makes me love writing more chapters for you guys, so thank you. It's a great motivator anyway, haha.