CHAPTER TEN: BLUE

Brockton Bay never really went quiet, but there were nights when the noise dipped low enough to make you feel like it had. This was one of them. The streets were nearly empty, the usual sounds of traffic distant, muffled by the thick press of fog rolling in from the bay.

And then—voices.

“Hey—hey, man, come on, you don’t have to—”

A grunt. The dull thud of a body hitting the pavement.

Taylor tensed. The fog blurred the figures ahead, but her eyes allowed her to catch a glimpse—two men, one kneeling, an arm wrapped around his side, the other standing, knife in hand—but it was enough. 

She knew a mugging when she saw one.

She should have ignored it.

She almost did.

Ever since Keith had shown her the poster—her face plastered under the word MISSING—she had kept her head down. No risks. No attention. She had enough to deal with.

But then she heard the click of a knife flicking open.

Her fingers curled into fists.

This wasn’t about her.

The weight of her decision settled over her in an instant.

There was no time to hesitate.

The fog swirled around her as she surged forward, footsteps quick and silent. The man with the knife turned at the last second. His eyes widened, startled. He lifted the blade—

Too slow.

Taylor reached for it—that pull in her gut, the sensation she was still learning to control.

Come here.

Blue shimmered, and the world shifted.

The mugger barely had time to react before an invisible force yanked him forward—too fast, too hard. His body lurched unnaturally, momentum building in an instant, as if gravity itself had betrayed him. His feet barely skimmed the ground before he was hurtling toward her.

And then—

He hit.

Or tried to.

Taylor didn’t move. Didn’t brace. Didn’t need to.

The instant he reached her, the force of his own momentum turned against him. Her forcefield denied the impact, stopped him at the final fraction of a second—and everything that should have carried through had nowhere to go.

The sound was wet. Sudden.

One moment, he was whole. The next—

He came apart.

A sickening rupture, blood and viscera bursting outward as kinetic energy found its release in the only way it could. His body was no longer a body, just shredded remnants collapsing in front of her, painting the pavement in a red mist.

Taylor exhaled slowly.

Too much.

She hadn’t expected it to be so… violent. She hadn’t meant to pull so hard. 

For a second, she just stood there, staring at the ruined mess of what had once been a man. 

A ragged breath broke the silence.

The man on the ground—the one who had been mugged—was staring at her. His face pale, his eyes wide, flickering between her and what remained of his attacker.

“You—” He swallowed. “Holy shit. How did you—”

Taylor turned. Walked away.

Before he could finish the sentence. Before he could demand answers.

She needed to get out of here. Now.

That had been reckless. She had pulled too hard, lost control of the force she had been trying to direct. She hadn’t meant to kill him.

And worse—

She wasn’t alone.

A presence. A shape just past the edge of the alley. Watching.

Taylor’s gaze flicked up, heart pounding.

Dark. Tall. Broad-shouldered.

Brian.

A spike of cold panic shot through her.

Had he seen? Had he noticed something?

She didn’t stop to find out.

Didn’t risk another glance.

She forced herself to keep moving, steps steady, even as the knot in her gut twisted tighter.

She had been careful for weeks. Careful not to be seen. Careful not to give anyone a reason to notice her.

And now?

Now, she wasn’t sure if she had just made her first real mistake.