Adam tore his scythe free.
Black arcs flashed as he swung, but the vines didn't sever. They rang, vibrating under the impact, too thick, too dense, too reinforced to cut through cleanly, as sparks scattered uselessly.
Damn it.
He shifted fully onto the defensive, mind racing at breakneck speed.
Is she from the Faradays?
Another vine slammed down. Adam blocked, boots digging trenches into the stone as the force traveled up his arms.
No.
The Alliance already rounded them up.
So then…
Which family?
A vine shot straight for his chest.
Freeze — Activated.
The air looked as if it crystallized around the attack and its speed dropped just enough for Adam to twist aside, but the vine adapted, flexing through the slowed space and grazing his side before ripping past him, as blood welled.
Adam looked at Martha.
There was no hesitation in his eyes now.
Only killing intent.
Martha didn't flinch.
And Adam understood why.
She's a martial master.
