Chapter 23: "Motorcycles, Martial Arts, and Sibling Sass"
In which Asterion stalks Evan's sister—for professional reasons!—Lena wrecks a creep's hand, and nobody calls the cops for once.
If you've ever wondered what it's like to be an ancient spirit mentor guiding a teenager through early adulthood while moonlighting as an underground boss-in-disguise with a mission to reform part of a city's criminal underworld—and also teach said teenager motorcycle tricks—congrats.
You have a very specific imagination.
But also—
welcome to Asterion's Tuesday.
After letting Evan enjoy his joyride in the real world, Asterion eventually took the wheel again.
While Evan relaxed inside their shared mental space, probably replaying every second he'd spent on the Fireblade like it was the greatest cinematic achievement of his life, Asterion wrapped up a few loose ends.
Or, as he put it:
"Life never gives me a chance to rest."
He said it dramatically, of course.
Not because Asterion actually believed the universe owed him rest.
After nearly a thousand years, he'd learned better than that.
Still...
His thoughts drifted home.
To Lysandra.
To the infant son he'd left behind, only a few months old when Asterion died.
To his brother.
To everyone from a life that now felt impossibly far away.
He hadn't seen them since his death.
Not truly.
And time didn't make that absence lighter.
If anything, sometimes it simply made the silence around it easier to recognize.
But Asterion had never been particularly skilled at sitting still with grief.
There was work to do.
Evan's growth mattered.
The boy's fate stretched toward something enormous, and helping him prepare for it might one day matter to Asterion as well.
And, if Asterion was being honest with himself...
He had also started becoming rather fond of the boy.
Not that Evan needed to know that.
His ego already required regular maintenance.
Still, Asterion's plans had layers.
Evan wasn't the only Mercer worth paying attention to.
His parents would eventually need to become involved in what was coming.
But first?
Lena.
Lena Mercer.
Older sister.
Black belt in judo.
Psychology student.
Extremely intelligent.
Extremely observant.
And, judging from what Asterion had seen so far, perfectly capable of breaking someone's wrist without ruining her morning.
She was smart.
She was stubborn.
And she possessed the sort of composed temperament that made deception considerably more inconvenient.
She would be difficult to fool.
But if convinced?
An excellent ally.
Asterion pulled through the university gates on the Fireblade, looking criminally cool in leather and sunglasses.
The sort of man someone's mother would warn them to stay away from—
and then possibly wonder where she'd seen him before.
He parked with practiced ease.
Foot down.
One smooth swing off the motorcycle.
Sunglasses catching the afternoon light.
"Let's see."
The timing was excellent.
Lena stood near the bus stop with her usual calm expression, backpack hanging from one shoulder, several friends beside her.
And—
ah.
There they were.
Two young men who were either very brave...
or very stupid.
Asterion slowed.
They were bothering Lena's group.
One stepped closer.
Lena warned him.
He ignored her.
Asterion crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby tree.
He didn't intervene.
One of Lena's friends looked nervous.
The first man reached toward Lena.
Asterion's eyebrow rose.
Bad decision.
Lena caught his wrist.
Twist.
Step.
POP.
His thumb dislocated.
He screamed.
His friend lunged forward.
Lena pivoted.
Sweep.
Drop.
Elbow into the ribs.
Two men hit the pavement.
Asterion actually clapped.
Lena looked toward the sound.
The Fireblade rolled closer.
Asterion stopped beside her.
"Lena."
She stared.
For several seconds, she said absolutely nothing.
Which was impressive.
Then:
"...Evan?"
Asterion lifted the helmet visor.
"Not exactly."
Her eyes narrowed instantly.
"But close."
That definitely didn't help.
Lena walked toward him with her arms crossed.
"What are you doing here?"
Her eyes dropped to the motorcycle.
"And where did you get that?"
"Picking you up."
Asterion glanced at the two men groaning on the pavement.
"Though apparently you didn't require much assistance."
"That's not an answer."
"It's our arrangement."
Lena stared at him.
Then realization struck.
"Oh."
Her expression shifted.
"You're serious about that ridiculous fake-date thing?"
"You agreed."
"I was questioning your sanity."
"And yet you agreed."
Lena sighed.
Asterion smiled.
"And the motorcycle isn't ridiculous."
"It absolutely is."
"It represents responsibility."
"It represents an expensive insurance claim waiting to happen."
"Your brother would disagree."
Lena's eyes sharpened at the wording.
Asterion mentally noted the mistake.
Too late.
"Who are you?" she asked quietly.
Asterion dismounted.
He studied her for a moment.
Then opened his arms.
"At the moment?"
He smiled.
"Someone offering you a ride."
Lena stared at him.
Then, surprisingly, allowed the brief hug.
She pulled away almost immediately.
Her suspicion remained very much alive.
"What kind of part-time job gives Evan access to motorcycles like this?"
"A complicated one."
"Of course it is."
She looked the Fireblade over.
"Does this mysterious employer know you're using his motorcycle?"
"He'd approve."
Technically true.
Asterion glanced back toward the two injured men.
Lena followed his gaze.
Then looked at him.
"You watched that entire thing."
"Yes."
"And didn't help."
"You didn't need help."
That stopped her.
Asterion shrugged.
"You're not helpless, Lena."
Then came the slight smile.
"Those two simply learned that somewhat painfully."
One of the men groaned from the pavement.
Lena's mouth twitched.
"You enjoyed that."
"A little."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You're acting very strange."
"So I've been told."
Asterion held out the spare helmet.
"Coming?"
Lena looked at the motorcycle.
Then the helmet.
Then him.
She hesitated for approximately two seconds.
"Only because I want answers."
"Naturally."
She took the helmet.
Asterion climbed onto the bike.
"Hold on."
Lena narrowed her eyes.
"I know how motorcycles work."
"Good."
The Fireblade roared to life.
Asterion smiled.
"Then this should be easy."
And with that, they pulled away from the university, leaving behind two groaning idiots and a collection of very confused students.
Lena Mercer prided herself on being logical, cautious, and very, very hard to surprise.
Which was why she deeply disliked the fact that the current situation involved her riding behind her younger brother's body on a motorcycle that probably cost more than a semester of tuition.
She also disliked the fact that she was enjoying it.
"So," she said once they'd stopped briefly near a quiet intersection, "where are we going?"
"That's a surprise."
Asterion's answer came too easily.
Lena narrowed her eyes.
"I hate surprises."
"No, you hate surprises you don't control."
She stared at him.
"That's annoyingly accurate."
Asterion dismounted.
Before she could ask why, he stepped toward her.
Then—
he scooped her up.
Actually scooped her up.
One arm beneath her knees.
One supporting her back.
Lena made a noise somewhere between outrage and disbelief.
"HEY!"
Her body reacted instantly.
She twisted, reaching for his wrist—
and found empty air.
Asterion had already put her down and moved just outside her reach.
Lena stared at him.
"When did Evan get this strong?"
"Training."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the correct answer."
She narrowed her eyes further.
"Never do that again."
Asterion smiled.
"I'll consider your request."
"That means no."
"It means I'll consider it."
"You are incredibly annoying."
"I've been told."
Lena pulled on her helmet with enough force to make her opinion perfectly clear.
Asterion climbed back onto the Fireblade.
She joined him.
Then pinched his side.
Asterion gave an exaggerated flinch.
"Violence?"
"You deserved it."
"Probably."
"Now where are we going?"
"Somewhere you'll enjoy."
"What, exactly, does that mean?"
Asterion glanced back slightly.
"You spend a great deal of your time worrying about everyone else."
Lena went quiet.
"Your studies. Your family. Evan."
Her grip around his waist tightened slightly.
Asterion continued.
"So today you don't have to."
That one landed.
"...Since when does Evan say things like that?"
Asterion paused.
"Since he started realizing how much he's taken you for granted."
Not technically a lie.
Evan was beginning to realize it.
Lena was quiet for several seconds.
Then:
"That's disturbingly mature."
"I'll inform him."
"Please do. He'll hate it."
"Almost certainly."
Her arms tightened around him.
Just a little.
"Fine," she said. "Where are we headed?"
"Still a surprise."
Lena groaned.
Asterion accelerated.
The city blurred past.
Traffic flowed around them.
Unlike Evan, Asterion handled the motorcycle with complete confidence.
No panicked throttle control.
No accidental wobbling.
No arguments with traffic lights.
Just precision.
Lena noticed.
Of course she noticed.
She noticed everything.
"You're riding like you've done this for years."
"I learn quickly."
"That's getting less believable every time you say it."
Asterion chuckled.
Lena rested her helmet briefly against his back.
"You're different."
That wasn't phrased as a question.
Asterion didn't answer immediately.
"Different isn't always bad."
"No."
Her voice softened.
"But it usually has a reason."
Asterion smiled faintly.
Clever girl.
"Today isn't about that."
"Oh, you're absolutely explaining eventually."
"Perhaps."
"That's also suspicious."
"Most things seem suspicious to you."
"Because most things involving this family are suspicious."
Fair.
For the first time in a long while, Lena allowed herself to stop analyzing.
At least a little.
She didn't know exactly where they were going.
She didn't know what had happened to her brother lately.
She definitely didn't know why he could suddenly move like a trained fighter and ride a high-performance motorcycle like he'd been doing it for decades.
But...
For now?
She could enjoy the ride.
Spending time with your sibling was supposed to feel normal.
Predictable.
Maybe mildly irritating.
Spending time with Evan—who was currently behaving like someone had replaced half his personality with that of an experienced martial artist and part-time motorcycle delinquent—was something else entirely.
Lena had spent the last three hours trying to solve the mystery of her little brother's transformation.
And she wasn't just talking about the leather jacket.
Or the motorcycle.
Or the fact that he had apparently discovered posture.
Something deeper had changed.
And Lena Mercer intended to find out what.
It started innocently enough.
They hit the mall after Asterion looked at her outfit and said:
"You're changing."
Lena stared at him.
"Excuse me?"
"That outfit."
She looked down at herself.
"What's wrong with it?"
Asterion tilted his head.
"It looks like you're attending a faculty meeting."
"I'm a university student."
"Today you're supposed to enjoy yourself."
"My clothes don't prevent enjoyment."
"No."
Asterion smiled.
"But we're still changing them."
Twenty minutes later, Lena was reluctantly looking at herself in a mirror, wearing a flowing sundress with a fitted jacket over it.
She turned slightly.
Okay.
She looked good.
Annoyingly good.
Asterion, waiting nearby, nodded approvingly.
"Better."
Lena glared at him through the mirror.
"If I discover you've been possessed by some kind of fashion spirit, I'm having Mom examine you."
"Tell her to bring better instruments."
"That was not reassuring."
"Wasn't meant to be."
Next came food.
Because no sibling outing was complete without sugar, salt, and questionable nutritional decisions.
They sat outside a theater sharing curly fries after watching a spectacularly stupid action movie containing enough explosions to qualify as a military exercise.
Lena had spent half the film criticizing the plot.
Asterion had apparently enjoyed every second.
"You have terrible taste," she said.
"It was entertaining."
"It had no coherent story."
"Things exploded."
"That doesn't constitute a narrative."
"It helped."
Lena stared at him.
Then laughed despite herself.
Eventually, the Fireblade carried them toward the edge of Havenbrook.
A quiet beach lay beyond the road.
Hidden.
Mostly empty.
Waves rolled softly onto the shore.
Lena removed her shoes and walked through the sand barefoot, letting the breeze pull loose strands of hair across her face.
Asterion followed, jacket thrown over one shoulder.
For several minutes...
They simply walked.
No ghosts.
No training.
No crime.
No mysterious motorcycles.
Just sand.
Ocean.
Silence.
Finally, Lena stopped.
"You ever going to tell me what's happening to you?"
Asterion looked toward the water.
"What makes you think something's happening?"
She gave him a flat stare.
"The bike."
One finger.
"The clothes."
Two.
"The confidence."
Three.
"The fighting ability."
Four.
"The mysterious job."
Five.
"And the fact that you keep talking like someone twenty years older than Evan."
Asterion paused.
"That's quite a list."
"I can continue."
"No need."
She folded her arms.
"Seriously."
Her voice softened.
"I want to help you. But I can't if you keep shutting me out."
There it was.
Not suspicion.
Concern.
Asterion looked at her properly.
Then smiled.
"I found a mentor."
Lena blinked.
"A mentor?"
"Someone who sees potential in me that I didn't see in myself."
That much was completely true.
"Someone helping me become stronger."
Lena studied his face.
"This mentor teaches you martial arts?"
"Among other things."
"Gives you mysterious motorcycles?"
"Indirectly."
"Encourages secret part-time jobs?"
"Sometimes."
Lena sighed.
"Why can't our family ever just be normal?"
"Because normal would probably bore all of you within a month."
She opened her mouth.
Paused.
"...Dad wouldn't last three days."
"Exactly."
Asterion sat down in the sand.
After a moment, Lena joined him.
She pulled her knees toward her chest.
"So he's okay?"
Asterion's expression softened.
"He's better than he was."
That seemed to matter more to her than anything else.
Lena looked toward the ocean.
"Good."
They sat together in companionable silence.
For now, the world was quiet.
No ghosts.
No danger.
Just salt.
Wind.
And a chance for a brother and sister to understand each other a little better.
Even if one of them was temporarily being piloted by an ancient cultivator.
Golden hour had just started doing its thing—
casting warm filters across the beach and making Lena wonder whether this might actually qualify as one of the better days she'd had in months.
And then the idiots arrived.
Because of course they did.
It was like the universe looked at a peaceful sibling moment and decided:
Absolutely not.
Lena noticed them first.
Two of the men she'd dropped near the university earlier.
And this time?
They had friends.
Several.
Baseball bats.
Chains.
The kind of expressions worn by people whose pride had made several very bad decisions on their behalf.
Lena stood immediately.
Asterion remained seated for another second.
She counted.
Eight.
Maybe ten.
Fantastic.
Two of them recognized her.
One pointed.
"There!"
Lena stepped in front of Asterion.
"Evan, get back."
Asterion looked up.
"I'll make an opening. Get to the bike."
She didn't hesitate.
Of course she didn't.
That was the kind of sister Lena was.
Protective.
Fierce.
And apparently still under the impression that Evan required saving.
Asterion blinked.
Then sighed.
"Move."
Lena looked back.
"What?"
"I'll handle them."
"Evan—"
Asterion stood and gently moved her behind him.
"Watch."
Something about his voice stopped her.
Not volume.
Authority.
The men charged.
Asterion moved.
Fast.
Very fast.
One sharp kick sent a burst of sand into the first attackers' faces.
Then he entered their formation.
Palm strike.
A man folded.
Pivot.
Elbow.
Second man down.
A chain came toward his head.
Asterion caught the wrist controlling it.
Twisted.
Pulled.
The attacker flew into another man.
Two more dropped.
Every movement was measured.
Controlled.
Asterion wasn't trying to seriously injure them.
He didn't need to.
One man swung a baseball bat.
Asterion stepped inside the arc.
Tapped his elbow.
Struck his chest.
Down.
Another rushed from behind.
Asterion shifted half a step.
The man missed completely.
Asterion hooked his ankle.
He hit the sand face-first.
Lena stood frozen.
Her mind stopped producing useful explanations somewhere around attacker number four.
This was not ordinary training.
This wasn't a few martial arts lessons.
This was...
Something else.
Within moments, the beach was quiet again.
Several grown men lay scattered across the sand, groaning.
Asterion hadn't even started breathing harder.
Lena stared.
"What..."
Asterion crouched beside the leader.
The same man who had apparently spent the walk over talking about "teaching Lena a lesson."
Asterion just looked at him.
YOU GET ONE WARNING.
The man's face paled like he had seen death. Which was probably less tame than what Asterion showed him.
Asterion stood.
Dusted sand from his hands.
Then turned toward Lena.
She was still staring at him.
"Everything's fine."
Lena blinked.
Then blinked again.
"You just..."
"Yes."
"All of them."
"Yes."
"In less than a minute."
Asterion considered it.
"Probably."
"EVAN."
Asterion smiled.
That may have been the wrong response.
Lena stared at him for several more seconds.
Then rubbed both hands over her face.
"I'm going to need several psychological theories for this."
"Take your time."
They started back toward the motorcycle.
Lena kept glancing sideways at him.
As though checking that he was actually there.
Finally, she spoke.
"Today was..."
She hesitated.
"A wonderful day."
The words came softer than she'd expected.
Not quite a compliment.
Not quite anything she wanted analyzed.
Just truth.
Because it had been wonderful.
She'd laughed.
Relaxed.
Spent time with her brother.
Or...
Someone acting through him.
That part still needed investigating.
But whatever exactly was happening, one thing had become obvious.
Evan was changing.
And whoever was helping him...
seemed to care.
Asterion glanced at her.
"So the fake date succeeded?"
Lena groaned.
"Don't ruin it."
"I require a final evaluation."
"You're unbelievable."
Asterion smiled.
"Shouldn't a successful date end with some sign of affection?"
Lena stared at him.
"Hmph. In your dreams."
Then her own smile appeared.
She leaned forward.
Kissed Evan's forehead.
"There. Be grateful."
Asterion blinked once.
Then chuckled.
"Acceptable."
"Don't push it."
They reached the Fireblade.
Lena put on her helmet.
As they rode back beneath the warm colors of dusk, she found herself smiling.
Evan was different.
Stronger.
More confident.
Infinitely more confusing.
She still intended to figure out exactly what was happening.
But maybe—
just maybe—
her little brother was finally becoming the person he'd always had the potential to be.
And heaven help anyone who thought they could hurt him now.