The man in the gray suit didn’t move like any soldier Julian had ever seen. He glided forward, more shadow than person, silent and fast. Before Julian could even get a word out, the man lunged. Sunlight hit the silver needle in his hand—a quick, lethal flash.
“Maya, behind me!” Julian shouted, throwing his arm in front of her.
But Maya’s eyes had changed. She didn’t see a man. She saw sparks firing in his brain, muscles winding up in his legs, the cold calculation in his heart. Everything slowed way down. The man came at her like he was moving through syrup.
Maya lifted her hand. She didn’t punch. She just touched the air in front of his chest.
Suddenly, black and white energy cracked out from her fingers. The man shot backwards, twenty feet easy, skidding across the road until he slam
