Anger drove me. The image of all those people lying on the bloodstained battlefield and what had happened to the Navigators was flashing through my head as I fought for what it took to keep going, keep hurting him.

He shifted, and he got one knee or one foot between myself and him. I could feel the flex, and I knew he was going to kick me off him. I couldn’t afford to let him. I brought my hands down and hooked the spikes into the sides of his neck, closer to the spine than the front. The action and my center of gravity brought my face close to his. Blood dripped down from my scalp wound onto the white mask.

Each of his hands found my forearms, and struck my arms out and away from his neck. I might have nicked him, but I didn’t take much flesh with the motion. My center of gravity being what it was, with me on top of him, my face smashed into his. The scalp wound shed blood straight into his eye.

His footing against my midsection shifted, one closer to my chest, and he kicked out, leveraging me away.

I hit road, and cold wind blew past me. I took in half a lungful of air, and the air burned my nostrils, mouth, and throat.

There was noise all around me. The circle was gone. I started to rise to my feet, reaching for my flight, and more coughing overtook me.

Again, I felt something in me go. Again, I blacked out, except it was longer than the one second this time. No flight, no movement at all. I came back to, took the start of a breath in, and again, I felt the burn. Reflex actions.

Noontide.

“Victoria!” a voice. “Behind you!”

It took all of my energy to turn to look behind me, the direction I’d felt everything go. Noontide was in one of the vehicles, wheels spinning to find traction.

Then the sedan had its traction and it lunged. It was aimed straight at me and at the ditch. It lunged as it took over.

A hand grabbed me. It was Sveta who pulled me clear. With all the strength and energy Noontide had sapped from me, I wouldn’t have been able.

The car continued on its way, to where Tristan had made the bridge that had let them cross the ditch and get to the crime scene. It was only just reaching that bridge when bridge became water. The sedan struck the edge of the ditch nose-on. Airbags inside inflated.

“What are you doing!?” Sveta raised her voice.

I thought it was me. Then I realized Rain’s effect was still in place. The guilt, the easy switch to self-blame.

There were still people with guns. Sveta held onto me and dragged us to cover.