Firbolg damsel book 7, p.1
Firbolg (Damsel Book 7), page 1
Damsel: Book Seven
Firbolg
P.S. Power
Orange Cat Publishing
Copyright 2022
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter six
Chapter seven
Chapter eight
Chapter nine
Chapter ten
Chapter eleven
Chapter twelve
Chapter thirteen
Chapter fourteen
Chapter fifteen
Chapter sixteen
Chapter seventeen
Chapter eighteen
Chapter nineteen
Chapter one
“Holy fu...”
Hannah noticed that there was a pained oomph on the end of her sentence, instead of the full word she’d intended to use, as her face was pressed into the mixed green and gold grass of the rather average park she’d found herself in that day.
The space wasn’t nice really, being mainly dry yellow grass and some low trees that could have looked healthier with only a little TLC. The weather that day was far too hot for it to be pleasant as well. The scent of burning charcoal was in the air, naturally. That and cooking meat. She noticed all of this as Top Hat, a superhero she’d met a few times before, tried to pry the football from her small, pale fingers.
A thing that wasn’t happening that day.
Hannah might not have known the rules of the game they were playing, but she’d caught the ball when Gregory had, very gently and slowly, tossed it to Kate, who had missed it. Allowing her to steal it, fair and square. No one was screaming about cheating yet, so she locked her muscles, even as she felt the larger woman starting to win in their tug of war. At least until Hannah tried even harder, working her hands back around. Out tugging the larger, no doubt stronger, woman. Using sheer force of will.
A voice called out, laughing.
Maverick. A man she didn’t have another name for. That struck her as odd, since they’d worked together half a dozen times. He knew that she was Hannah de Peyser, but if anyone asked who he was, she’d be stuck, pointing and gasping about code names and trying to make up a reason to not know, exactly. Things that didn’t sound like she was just an uncaring moron who didn’t think it was important, just because the man wasn’t classically good looking.
“Down! Hey, this isn’t tackle football. It’s touch! Pull it back a notch or two there, you wacky ladies.” There was no hint of exasperation from the man, just a goofy voice that was showing he didn’t think being playful was going to be the start of a fight or anything.
Top Hat, or as Hannah was considering calling her if she tackled her again, Mud, stood up, letting go of the ball, which was still in the possession of the other team. Hannah’s, in this case. Meaning, it seemed, that her theft had been successful.
When she got up, it was a bit gingerly. Nothing had been broken in the exchange, but there were going to be some bruises, she didn’t doubt. Even if nothing actually hurt, at the moment.
Stan, who was on the sideline, working for her team that day, looked down at her, grinning. The man was eight feet tall, and incredibly overbuilt, as far as lean, hard muscle went. An incredibly sweet person, as well. More than that, he was competent and actually understood the rules of the game they were playing. Then, he’d been slated to go professional when he’d been in high school. Before he’d gotten too large and obviously showed superhuman abilities. Then the leagues had cut him loose at that point, of course. They’d had to, by their own volition, to keep the government off of their backs. If you had powers, you weren’t allowed to play professional sports. That was considered cheating. Meaning they couldn’t afford to be that obvious about it.
Her coach held up a hand.
“Good hustle there, Hannah! Shake it off and get back to the game.” He sounded slightly worried, even as she grinned, standing up as lightly as if nothing had taken place. That was a lie, of course.
Top Hat worked in magic, and didn’t have a physical power at all. At the same time, the woman was fit, and stood nearly nine inches taller than Hannah de Peyser on a good day. The impact had legitimately knocked the wind from her sails. A thing that she was controlling for, with a fake smile and a refusal to gasp for air.
The game wasn’t a big deal there, at the picnic. They only had ten people playing, with two sides of five people each. Most of those people were men, too. Supposedly, no one was supposed to be using any superhuman powers for it, either. She wasn’t certain that Gregory could pull that off, if he got too excited, of course. He was so fast that it translated into superhuman strength as well, even if no one really thought of it that way. The ball had pulled skin off her arms when she’d snagged it from the air. A thing she was only just that moment noticing. A soft toss from the boy had actually done some damage to her. If he’d actually tried, the football might well have become deadly.
Still, she moved back into position, as the larger event went on around them. The teams reset, with hers having the ball now, she noticed. That probably meant stealing the ball like she had was a legal move. This time the ball had to be passed back to their quarterback, Alistair, who looked away, before that could happen.
“Time! We have... Incoming! Hannah, start a move! Attack at a picnic in Oregon. Three gunmen!” The boy, who was actually seventeen, seemed mildly panicked at the idea, which meant it was probably bad. Before she could do more than start to find the specific location, a teleportation being powered up, someone ran at her from across the park.
Over by where the food was being set up that day. She held out her left hand, as not one, but two different people snagged a hold on her, firmly. At the same time, she simply knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, where they needed to go. That wasn’t about her powers at all, even if she could have, eventually worked out where to go. Al had forced the location into her being in a way that meant she was already starting to be there, having been holding enough energy to force herself to shift, already.
It was too hasty of a move to do comfortably, of course. Not with that much weight being moved around. Thankfully neither of the people who had grabbed her seemed that big.
Which didn’t mean she could prevent a solid scream, as she transported them across a third of the country. It hurt, and the sound came out, without her meaning to do it. From a light press of bodies at a park, to a heavier one. With gunfire in the background. The back of her head was on fire, and for a moment she legitimately couldn’t see. There was an array of bright rainbows across her vision, preventing that from taking place. Both of the other people she’d brought to the party moved away, meaning she dropped to her knees, and got the wonderful experience of fighting off an intense nausea for a moment.
One of the voices, a female one, called out.
“Fast Kid, take the... Man in the center! I’ll get the third!”
Hannah nodded, and forced her eyes open, still not able to see anything of note, for the moment. After all, there had been three shooters and she could hear them, still killing people. If the others had two of them, which meant she needed to suck it up and fight, or at least get the weapon away from the last one, if she could.
Jumping in to throw down was probably not a real plan. Top Hat had just reminded her of that fact of life. The woman wasn’t even that big and could kick her ass. As she scanned the area, which was overcast that day, and about thirty degrees cooler than it had been in Texas, her mind refused to understand what was going on, for a moment. She locked on June, who was in cute red shorts, a tight-fitting t-shirt and had long golden hair running down her back in a ponytail that day. She was light skinned, and charging the young-looking guy on the far end, getting him to shoot her, instead of regular people who wouldn’t be able to soak bullets like she could.
Fast Kid, Gregory, was already on his man, who was falling to the ground, almost as if in slow motion. She didn’t know what had happened there, but it seemed fine enough. Her man, the last one...
That was the part she didn’t get, at first.
His whole face, possibly his eyes, were glowing green. It was a sparkling and scintillating blob of light that, when she noticed it, seemed to cover his upper chest as well as his skin. The top of his shirt was doing it, too. The killer had stopped shooting, and after a moment, she understood that the source of the glow wasn’t the man’s low level superpowers, but was rather coming from the limping fat man who was, very doggedly, attempting to dodge bullets as he moved in, pointing a laser or weirdly powerful flashlight at the man, to blind him.
A thing that was working.
Before she could do anything of note, even as she started to gather all the weapons she could find on the attackers, the heavy fellow, who was bald, and already bleeding in at least three places, got to the currently blind man.
That was surprising to her, she had to admit.
Because the move didn’t end in some sort of weak tackle, or a campaign of slow and clumsy haymakers.
The older guy struck with much better hand speed than he’d moved in at, even if he was clearly in agony, the whole time. The blows were professional seeming. Hard, to show that they had power behind them. Not so much that it seemed superhuman, but he snagged the rifle the man had, rather smoothly. With a bit of clever leverage, that was pulled away, and turned smoothly by the heavy guy.
Al most as smoothly, the thin, rather plain seeming younger man dropped his right hand to his waist, shaking his head, as if that would clear his eyes faster. He didn’t have a side arm, but rather a six inch fixed blade knife. It was hard to tell what that was, being on the far side of the camo covered man, from her perspective. That, the blade, started to pump in the air, missing by several feet. Showing the man still wasn’t up to seeing very clearly, if at all.
Then, in the hands of her new hero, fat guy, the AR-15 spun, as he stepped in, grunting in pain. The butt of the weapon striking the slightly taller guy on the side of the jaw. Then it was brought back, even as heavy-set fellow stumbled back, gasping in pain as his right foot took a quick step back. That could have been from the bullet wounds on his front, of course. It wasn’t, though. Hannah could, she thought, feel that the reaction was from the pain of walking. Of taking that single step away, a bit too fast.
At the same the barrel of the weapon was brought up and three, rather tightly focused shots struck the man, directly in the middle. Dropping the killer to the ground.
About that time, the real action over, Hannah finally managed to take the weapons, piling them at her own feet, grunting in pain as she did it. The one man, the heavy guy with the rifle, brought it up, clearly ready to keep fighting the other attackers. Even as blood poured from him, at least one of the spots being much darker than the other, showing his liver had been hit on the right-hand side. At least she thought that was what that kind of thing meant. Regardless, dying or not, the man was bringing the fight to the other two killers. To protect the crowd.
Only they were down.
So she yelled.
“We have them! All the bad guys are secured!” She tried to use normal language, not knowing who, or what, she was dealing with at the moment. Looking up at the situation, blinking, the civilian hero pointed the weapon down at the ground and moved away from the man he’d taken, seeming ready to keep fighting, if it was a trick and there were more people there that day intent on doing harm.
Liberty and Fast Kid hadn’t been carrying handcuffs on them, since picnics rarely needed that kind of thing but Hannah had a trick to make up for the lack, since she could move people around, and knew where some handy, very secure, cells were. Still, as the unconscious men vanished, she called that out.
Which worked, since other people had come.
“They’re in holding at The Society! At least one needs medical attention, now!”
June nodded, then spoke, inside of Hannah’s head.
~Situation in Oregon controlled. We need medics on scene, ASAP. Three in holding, Society Tower cells. Medical attention needed there, as well. Place priority on the attack site. We have, nearly a hundred down on location.~ The words were crisp, and without any kind of emotion behind them.
The new system just worked that way. It prevented people from being heard, except by the individuals they set their calls, the mental ones, up for. Of course, June, the head of a super group, went around with that kind of thing set up to contact hundreds of people at once, most of the time.
Group speed dial.
This time it worked, so Hannah waved to the fat man, which after ten seconds or so, got his attention, he was standing there, weapon at low ready, spinning in place, scanning for any new threats. She didn’t know there weren’t going to be any, so, instead of having him disarm instantly, she nodded and tried to check for that, using telepathy.
Which didn’t happen. She was too jazzed for that and the skill, a thing she was just starting to learn, took too much concentration, so far.
“Al! Check for threats on site?” She spoke the words, wondering if the teen telepath would be able to hear her there, with all the screaming going on. With all the pain.
~No further threats. We have Medic One and Linear on site there. The...~ It was odd, but Alistair Marks actually paused.
When it came to reading minds, the boy was normally quick. Where he tended to bog down was in moral decisions, since he was kind of a goody-goody in a lot of ways. Still, after a moment, about a full minute, he went on.
~The man who took the first shooter? We need to bring him in.~
She winced, and swallowed, since it was possible that the man was a criminal of some sort. A pedophile or rapist, or even a serial killer. If he were just an embezzler or car thief, well, Alistair Marks would have let him go. She got ready to take the weapon away, and then try to subdue the man. She was going to do that by putting him in a cell, not trying to fight him.
If she did that, she was simply going to lose, after all. Even with him dying, she didn’t have what this man did, in a fight. Not that she could tell what that was. She started the move, picking a cell at the High Command headquarters for it.
~No. He’s a good guy. Not powered at all. He has some health issues, and probably won’t be able to survive this if we don’t help him. It isn’t showing yet, but he’s been shot, three times. The man is... Hannah, I think he might be the toughest man I’ve ever seen. Mentally, I mean.~
She blinked, but then considered the idea. The man was heavy, but not blubbering. He was bleeding, bright and dark red over his front in three places, but wasn’t going down yet. Older, too. She couldn’t tell how much so. He was bald and didn’t have a beard, but she wasn’t seeing leathery skin or anything. He could be in his forties, she guessed.
Slowly, limping, still turning to scan the crowd, the man worked his way over to her, when she waved.
She nodded at him.
“All clear. We’ve had a very good telepath scan the area. No further attacks are incoming. We need a medic...” She held up her hand, but the man just bent, slowly, and put the weapon on the pile of the things at her feet.
Grunting as he did so.
“I’m good. We need to see to everyone else. I didn’t think I was going to survive that.” He looked down, not saying the obvious. That he doubted he was going to still. Even if he was still on his feet and not groaning about the pain.
Kate was there, trying to use first aid, to stop some of the bleeding on a downed woman. Devya Pond had come in as well, along with ten or so people from various teams. Most of them were busy, a few doing what the man in front of her was. Scanning the crowd. Her man pointed, clearly weakening.
“That woman... She’s going down...”
He stumbled, trying to work over toward the heavy woman who was in a red, white and blue floral print. It was the Fourth of July, so that outfit more or less worked. It was hideous, but as Hannah grabbed the man, she called out.
“Medic! That woman!” She pointed, realizing that her words had, most likely, just condemned the man with her to death. She could barely hold him up, with the size difference and he had to be lowered to the ground. Taking most of his own weight the whole time, even as he faded into death. All the healers were busy at the moment, saving other lives, of course.
All she could do, was stand there. After all, she had some powers, but healing wasn’t in her mix at all. She could teleport, move things at a distance, and tell the future, but nothing was coming at her in the moment. She could read minds, a bit, and of course, thanks to magic, give other people powers.
Which didn’t help her at all, since she couldn’t give them to herself that way, and needed to have the clearance of the Alien Committee to hand those out. Neither of whom were on Earth at the moment. The whole concept of the Fourth of July was too violent for them, as a celebration, so her friend, Neary, had left, going home for a week or so.
Still, desperate, she focused as the fat man went down. Blood covering his front and running down his legs. She hadn’t even thought to use basic compression.
~Neary! Emergency permission to give powers!~
She didn’t know if the man would hear her, or would be able to answer, after being screamed at like she was doing. It could, she understood, send him into shock. The tone itself could do that to him, even if she wasn’t being violent about anything.
Weakly, as if the man were truly going down as well, some ten thousand light years away, she heard him reply.
~Granted.~ It was faint, but real, she hoped.
Setting up to pass powers along, she did it instantly. It was a complex set, being the exact same ones that she’d given to a woman a week before. The whole thing, since it was right there, in her list of powers to grant. A thing that was slightly odd, really. She’d done that work in magic, not using her own new power for that kind of thing. Still, she tapped at it, when it came up, being first.
