Blake watched as Perry lifted up Zack’s welcome mat and retrieved a nearby key. He quickly inserted into the lock before unlocking the door, his eyes quickly scanning the neighborhood as he did so. He entered the apartment, with Blake right behind him. She shut the door and quickly locked it.

“I don’t think we were followed,” Perry said. Blake nervously glanced out the window.

“I felt like I was being watched the whole way home,” Blake said. Her boyfriend nodded.

“Yeah. I felt it too,” Perry said. He gave a small smile.

“Maybe our performance was just that good,” he said. Blake returned the smile, even if she found Perry’s attempt at confidence somewhat unconvincing.

“Yeah, maybe,” Blake said. She moved inside Zack’s rather bare apartment and shivered.

“Would it kill Zachary to turn on the heat every once and while?” she said, hugging herself.

“I’ll keep you warm, honey,” came a voice from the shadows, one with chilled Blake’s blood for a very different reason.

From the shadows emerged one of the thick-necked Alpha goons that followed that Kaine creep. Blake didn’t know his name. She wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have one. He smiled menacingly at her.

“Just one of you?” Blake said, trying to act unimpressed as she gave a cautious side-eye to Perry. “You remember what happened the last time you pulled this shit.”

She bit her lip, knowing full well how hollow her bravado truly sounded.

Now who’s unconvincing?

“Don’t worry, girl,” the goon said. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

When she turned back, two goons, almost completely identical, stood in the space once occupied by one. In an instant, a trio consumed the space, followed by a quartet. Each goon looked slightly different - one had a bigger nose, the other a wide forehead, but every one of their eyes were locked on her.

The sound of breaking glass echoed into her eardrums as she watched Perry leap into the forway, bashing one of the goons with a nearby wine bottle. The goon went down a pulpy mixture of purple and red.

“Blake, run!” he cried.

That’s not what I had in mind.

She whirled around at her remaining assailants as she felt power course through her fingertips. Blake wasn’t really good at aiming this power. Or controlling it for that matter. But when your enemies were dumb enough to be grouped together like this, she really didn’t need to.

“Babe, get clear!” she yelled.

A lightning bolt exploded from her hand, sending white sparks bursting through the room. Once her vision cleared, Blake looked up to see Perry standing in the midst of several fallen muscle, with all of Kaine’s boys down for the count. She put her hands on her hip and smiled.

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“Maybe I’m getting a hang of this control thing,” she said.

Perry, for his part, looked about as comforted as a cat in the middle of a dog pile. On closer examination, Blake noted his brown hair was slightly singed. “Speak for yourself.”

“Hey, you’re still alive, aren’t you?” Blake smiled.

“Not for long,” another voice rose from below as one of the goons, apparently unhurt by Blake’s lightning assault, drew up from his hiding spot just under the table and wrapped his hand around Perry’s sternum. In his other hand, he held a broken wine bottle, which he pointed menacingly at Perry’s throat.

“Stand down, sweet cheeks,” the goon said. “If I see your fingers so much as twitch, I’ll turn his neck into a Jack O’Lantern.”

Blake stood, paralyzed by fear. Her overconfidence had endangered Perry, the very last thing she wanted to happen. She started to fidget, but the goon called her bluff, keeping his broken wine bottle leveled with Perry’s neck.

With no other options, Blake felt her arms drop to the side.

“Good,” the muscle said. “Now here’s how things are gonna be-”

“You broke your wrist at some point,” Perry announced. his eyes fixated on his captor’s thick arms. “A sports injury, if I had to guess.”

The goon didn’t react. He just stared forward, his gaze never leaving Blake.

“Of course, you don’t know how you got it, I would imagine,” Perry said. “After all, you’re just the copy, not the progenitor.”

“Hey, shut up, pal,” the goon said, pulling the broken bottle closer to Perry’s neck. “This copy can still cut your throat to pieces.”

“It’s just interesting,” Perry said, keeping his eyes on the hand gripping the bottle. “With every copy the physical injuries become more pronounced. I would imagine your progenitor’s hand has completely healed. You on the other hand…”

Perry gripped the large man’s hand and brought it down on the table. The goon cried out, dropping the wine bottle in the process. Perry turned around as the man struggled to regain his grip. Doing so left him open to attack, however, as Perry slid in and hammered his fist into the man’s protruding Adam’s Apple. He crumbled onto the floor. Perry cast a wary eye to Blake.

“I don’t think this place is secure,” Perry said. Blake rolled her eyes. Perry’s grasp of the understatement was unmatched. Biting back a sarcastic comment, Blake moved her eyes to the door. She ran towards the exit, only to be blocked by a large shape.

More muscle had arrived.

It was hard to tell if anyone was the original. They all looked so much alike. One reached for her with a massive hand, but Blake wrinkled her nose and swore, blasting away the creep without much effort. Unfortunately, the moment she did so, his buddy fell upon her. She turned to see Perry already being tackled by two burly goons.

It was over before it ever really started. Blake fell herself slammed against the refrigerator with such force that the wind knocked out of her. She didn’t have any voice to plead for them to stop as two of them pounded into Perry’s small frame, leaving him a bloody heap as he slumped to the ground next to him.

Blake was out of juice, out of air, surrounded by enemies on all sides.

“What do we do now?” one of them asked.

“Make it look like an accident,” one replied. “And turn up the heat.”

“So we can burn this place down?” a third raised his eyebrow.

“No, because it’s freaking cold in here!” his buddy replied.

Blake struggled to stand, hoping the two goons were distracted. She didn’t have enough juice to fry both of them.

One would have to do.

“Seriously,” the one on the left said. “Why is it so cold in here?”

“Because of me,” a different voice entered the room.

Blake gawked at the figure in the doorway. He was wearing a mask as well as a raggedy costume which hung from his figure. Two sleek high-tech gauntlets extended off either of his wrists. Blake hadn’t seen this figure since the Promenade a little over a week ago.

Icer.