Everyone else made frequent efforts to visit Ross during their free time, Markl more than anyone. Damien, after the previous breakthrough, became almost obsessed with the computer, always upgrading it and adding extras, leaving it on overnight to accumulate data – and sometimes even sitting there with the data in the dark. One more breakthrough on that magnitude and their lives would be over.

Tora avoided visiting Ross. Moving about the house without her keen glare was a relieving change, although she also became aware of Markl's eyes on her back in the few times she'd bumped into him. Ross must have told him what happened on that roof and about Cyrus, and it was going to look bad for Tora if she didn't also confess. Fair as Markl was, once Ross got a hint of blood, she wouldn't relent. Her awkward conversation with Markl a few days earlier didn't help, either, but getting the words out curdled her thoughts. It was as though if she shared her suspicions and what she knew, Cyrus and her past would be lost to her forever.

Down in the basement, she sat on one of the cabinets and stared across the room. The table tennis table was out with the bats laid across the surface of one end. She concentrated, staring at the bright red bats with the wooden handles. The top one shivered, but became still again.

Taking in another breath and wrapping her arms around her tucked-up knees, Tora narrowed her eyes, concentrating on just the one bat. An invisible forcefield formed around it. For a moment, its smooth dome reflected the light overhead and then disappeared.

Tora winced, swearing under her breath, at the sound of a tinker in her head. Pain shot through her brain, making her eyes water. She clutched at her forehead, breathing heavily. Bits of her fringe stabbed into her eyes.

"What the hell..." she said to herself. She focused. It should come naturally to her. Tendrils snaked around the bat, thickening until it solidified over it and shimmered.

She swore. It splintered again, sending a spike of heat through her head. She slammed a fist onto the cabinet surface, groaning. When the pain finally subsided, leaving a bitter taste in the back of her mouth and a dull ache in her temples, Tora stared down at her knees. What the hell was going on? Telekinesis had always come naturally to her. Why did she have to make so much effort all of a sudden?

"Maybe I'm getting old," she said out loud, and then shook her head at herself. It had only been two days since the hospital disaster. Maybe it was too soon. She was exhausted. It would get better with time.

She hoped.

****

Despite the calm days that passed, the Seekers were still on edge, waiting for the buzzer to go off or for Damien to run in looking terrified. A darkness continued to lurk inside Tora. Her telekinesis remained weak and, although she wasn't too worried about its return, she kept an acute eye on the golden pot. Since emptying it in her fight against Cyrus, it had filled again, with the same enticing power as before.

Ross resumed training just under a week after the Royal Falcork Hospital incident.

"Come on!" said Carlos, parrying Tora's hit with his arm. He blocked her next kick and threw her in the air. Tora somersaulted and landed to the left of the foosball table. She brushed her fringe out of her face, grinning through the panting. Nothing gave her greater joy than a good workout and endorphins streaming through her veins.

She moved forward, feigning to the right. Carlos turned his whole body to defend. She stepped to the left. Surprise flitted across his face. She slammed into his exposed flank like a charging bull. Carlos grunted, feet sliding along the ground. He grabbed her by the neck of her t-shirt and threw a knee into her stomach. Tora twisted. Her arms got tangled in the material. Carlos's knee connected with her nose instead. Her head snapped back. Stars exploded in her eyes as the pain rampaged through her skull.

"Ugh!"

Her feet disappeared from beneath her. Carlos, panting, wrapped an arm around her neck in a headlock. His bulging muscles slid over her neck from sweat that drenched them both. He squeezed, crushing her windpipe.

Tora's throat became tiny. Her gasps turned into a struggle. Weak punches above her head at Carlos had no avail. Her peripheral vision darkened, her legs turned to cotton wool, and blood pounded against her skull.

Her arms fell.

"You give?" grunted Carlos.

Tora nodded – just. He let go. She crashed onto the floor, coughing and clutching her neck. Blue eyes watering and ears ringing, she glanced up at Carlos, who was flapping the neck of his t-shirt, cooling off.

"Still not back to a hundred percent yet?"

"Go to hell, you mug," she said, grinning and propping herself up against the wall, sucking in air.

"Your telekinesis is compromised."

Ross's voice made Tora glance up. Her stomach dropped at the sight of the lieutenant's frail form at the bottom of the basement steps. A large scratch ran below her eye from her forehead.

"What?" Carlos said, staring at Ross. "You mean Tora?"

"No, I mean the buffalo beside me." Ross's icy stare left Carlos's face and turned to Tora again. "Mind telling me what's going on?"

Threatening as Ross sounded – as usual – the hardness didn't come all the way through.

"I don't like to fight with telekinesis. You know that." Tora's throat was dry. Ross stared back, unimpressed. Despite the constant pain she should be in, all that gave it away was the odd grimace, and even then Tora wasn't sure that was actually from the lies she just spewed rather than from the injuries

"Don't play dumb, Tora. It might work for Carlos but it doesn't become you."

"Hey!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tora kept her voice steady, rising to her feet. Her hands curled into fists.

"You've physically recovered."

"Hospital food is pretty great, wouldn't you know."

"And yet you've not even touched your ability since you came back."

Tora hesitated. "Don't bluff me. You've not seen me in a week."

Ross's eyes glittered.

"I don't need to see you to know things."

Tora had a feeling Ross wasn't just referring to her burnt-out telekinesis.

"Carlos."

"Yes, boss."

"Engage Tora again."

"But—" He faltered when Ross gave him the glare of death. Markl shivered and then swallowed. "Yes... boss."

"Don't let her yield. Attack her until she's unconscious."

"What?" Tora stared at Ross. "Are you crazy?"

"M-maybe you should go back to bed, Ross."

Ross's dark eyes made Carlos cower.

"Are you going to do it or do I need to kick your ass, Carlos? 'Cos believe me, I can smack you to next week and back with one finger."

Carlos nodded, swallowing again. His eyes flicked to Tora. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed again. Tora's neck still ached from their last clash. Most of her fractures had heeled but the tiredness from over-healing and exhaustion still lingered like the aftermath of cooked expired food.

"Does Markl know what you're doing?"

"What, are you scared to fight Carlos?"

Ross knew just how to press her buttons.

"No."

"You don't get special treatment from me, Tora."

"I wasn't expecting any." Tora's hands curled into fists.

The scepticism hung in the air, thick enough to slice through. Carlos looked awkwardly between the two girls again.

"Get on with it!" Ross barked. Carlos jumped.

He shimmered out of sight. His tactics wouldn't faze Tora. His footsteps and breathing were still too heavy. In a busy place like a shopping centre or hospital, he wouldn't be found, but one-on-one he might as well forego his ability.

He charged head-on.

Tora counted his steps and bypassed his attacks easily. He was larger, and tougher to take head-on. She thought she'd buffed up enough to stand a chance face-to-face, but from the result of the last fight, she was obviously wrong.

Ross watched with an impassive face, her arms held at uncomfortable angles. Tora darted forward. Before she could turn to face him, her head snapped back. Her hair was tugged back without mercy. Her scalp burned. She aimed a wild kick backwards. The soles of her trainers sank into hard shins. Carlos groaned, dropping her ponytail. Tora scrambled forwards and turned to face where she thought he was, massaging her aching skull.

"Hair-pulling? That was low, Car. Really low."

"Sorry, man."

"You want me to fight fire with fire?"

He gulped.

"Please don't."

"Too late."

Tora took a flying jump and threw her leg out. Her feet passed through air. A breath breezed her neck. She spun around. A steely grip clamped over her right fist. Her shoulder was nearly yanked out of its socket. Her feet left the ground. Tora's stomach lurched. The world spun beneath her and before she knew it, her back slammed onto the hard floor. All the air was smashed out of her lungs. She coughed, blood surging to her head and pulsing in her ears and behind her eyes. Her shoulder complained, throbbing.

Tora gritted her teeth and, grabbing her biceps, tugged her right arm upwards. The shoulder slid back with a click, sending a spasm of pain all around. She got to her feet, listening out for Carlos. Her body was slowing down. She knew she hadn't fully recovered, but she wasn't going to show any weakness in front of Ross.

Just when she straightened up, a blow came out of nowhere – literally. Carlos's footstep attracted her attention a millisecond before a rock-hard fist sank into her ribs. Out of instinct, Tora stiffened, crashing to the floor on her elbows and knees. Pain shot up her joints. With a grunt, she rolled out of the way, only to be met with a kick. She reeled backwards, the world exploding into stars. Nausea flooded her body, making her stomach do somersaults.

She squeezed her eyes shut, keeping her breathing even. In. Out. In. Out. All she could hear were the pounding in her ears and the sound of her breaths. Carlos, still invisible, could strike at any moment.

"What are you waiting for?" said Ross, as though thinking the same thing as Tora.

"I don't want to kill her," said a voice from the far end of the room. Ross snorted.

"It wouldn't be much of a loss."

"That's not fair, Ross!" Carlos shimmered into sight at last, looking horrified, even more than the last time Damien had eaten his cheese tortillas.

"We don't need weaklings on the team." Ross's eyes glittered, not leaving Tora's face. Tora glared back at her, forcing herself onto her feet, every little move a massive effort. Her knees shook and her head spun. She knew it was from the injuries superimposed on her suboptimal state. "She's excess baggage. Cut her loose and we'll be better off."

"To hell with you," Tora said through gritted teeth. Her body seemed to be submerged in a numbing, thick liquid. Her voice echoed in her mind. Her limbs barely responded to her commands.

"Without your telekinesis, what are you? Just some violent thug, no different from the humans? Will you go crying to Markl when your forcefield couldn't contain demons or humans?"

"I'd like to see you fight me when I'm back to my normal self," Tora retorted, flushing. She winced without meaning to when her sides gave a pang of pain.

The temperature dropped by several degrees as Ross's coolness turned positively glacial.

"And which self is that?"

Ross locked eyes with Tora. After what seemed like millennia, Tora broke away, gnashing her teeth and her fists shaking.

Remember your promise.

The demon's voice echoed in her mind, sending chills to her very core. She shivered. Ross wasn't the threat. The real enemy was out there, waiting, watching.

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