Excerpt: Weapons

“There has to be a mistake,” Mystique finally interjected, drawing full attention on herself. “We can’t be the elementals. I mean…it can’t be us.”
“Yeah,” Shylo agreed, leaning forward earnestly. “If it was us, we’d know by now, wouldn’t we?”
“Don’t you, though?” Constantine asked, aggravated by their disbelief. “All three of you have been exhibiting signs for years. Why do you think we put you all together?”
“The system,” Shylo murmured, eyes wide. “The matching. We’re a squad.”
“You’re THE squad,” Constantine corrected.
“That’s ridiculous,” Shylo countered.
“How is that possible?” Mystique demanded, her face fierce and defiant. “I mean, Shylo? Seriously?”
“I might say the same about you,” Shylo shot back, his tone suddenly dark.
“At least I’m not a naïve, idealist idiot.”
“Yeah, because psychotic masochists can totally be trusted with superhuman power.”
“Quiet!” Constantine bellowed, slamming his palms on the table. “Obviously the three of you have been keeping a lot of secrets from one another. All three of you have come forward at some point or another with evidence enough.”
Sagittarius recognized the truth in that statement, reflecting on the tattered remains of his curtains from that morning’s incident. The stricken, guilty expressions on Shylo and Mystique’s faces told him that they had also been hiding things, suppressing their own realizations to the point of blind rejection. It was impossible, they all told themselves. Impossible.
Allegra sat at the end of the table, eyes locked on the table top in front of her, where her hands still clasped one another rigidly, as though clinging to reality under the weight of the uncomfortable silence. She looked even smaller than before.