Page 12 of Even Robots Die
As we walk, I realize two of the men that came with my dad are carrying two of the fallen warriors each, and it makes me wonder what kind of shifters they are.
Bats aren’t really known for their strength, more for their very keen hearing and eyesight, and for their speed too. I’m pretty sure that Brice doesn’t lack any strength though with how muscular his arms are. And believe me, I know. One of them was wrapped around my middle just minutes ago, after all.
We arrive at the square, and the jet is right where I left it.
I stop where we are and force Brice to stop too.
“Release my dad,” I demand.
It’s not lost on me that I’m making demands while myself being tied.
“I’m starting to think you need a gag too,” Brice mutters to himself.
Don’t get mad, Flo, don’t get mad.
They’re letting my dad out of his hand ties and he removes his gag himself.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks me, and I can’t help but wonder if they treated him well. I didn’t see any sign of torture on him when he arrived in the street, but it was very dark. Now that we’re in the lit up square, I try to catalog my dad’s state. He looks tired, but other than that, I can’t see any sign of abuse. It’s been days and he doesn’t even look like they restricted his meals.
Good.
Only one thing to do and then we’ll be on our way home.
Everything is about to be alright.
7
Florentine
“In the jet,” Brice tells my dad with a curt voice that I can feel resonating through my whole body.
I really need to get distance from the man or else my body is going to get all the wrong ideas.
At least it should be over in a few minutes.
Once my dad is in the jet, Charles arrives with my bag and drops it at my feet.
“Heal them now,” Brice says.
“How sweet of you to ask politely,” I sass him. “You might need to release me for that.”
Brice drops my hands like they burned him.
Doesn’t look like he appreciates the feel of my skin as much as I appreciate his.
Better this way, anyway.
I drop to my knees next to the line of bodies the shifters have placed next to us.
“Milton, can you activate the defibrillator?” I ask out loud for the sake of everyone here.
“Right away, Miss F.” It answers only for me.
I place my left hand right over the first man’s heart. He’s only wearing a shirt. but I still pull it up to have my hand against his skin directly. As I say “now” the fingerless glove I’m wearing sends an electric shock through the man.
I count.
One. Two.
