Battle and Peace

Jypz

AN-Hrm…not sure of the name. Wanted something powerful and all that. I think I just silly. Anyway, prologue of a story that will probably take me a long time to write. This is the first thing I've written really since my mother passed in February. Any Spanish translation that is wrong, blame Google. Thanks for reading.

Summary-Barron Battle has escaped and disappeared, leaving the hero and citizen communities at large in a state of panic. Warren Peace has ceased all communication, causing some to think he's gone rogue to hunt down his father, or worse, join him. One person gets the call to seek Warren out, one person that turned her back on heroes and sidekicks and the Agency of Supers years ago. Against her instincts, Layla Williams agrees, fully aware that more than Warren's allegiance is at stake.

Prologue

Layla Williams could count on one hand the times in her life she'd been truly terrified.

She wasn't an easily frightened child. The dark, monsters under the bed or bogeymen in her closet didn't bother her. As a teen, she was twittery and nervous, mainly because she hadn't known how to deal with her feeling about Will, but never afraid.

The first time wasn't when Gwen tried to turn all the adult supers into babies to create a legion of super villains, like most would think. Or even when Will Stronghold had been thrown out the window to his impending doom, only to fly as if he'd been doing so for years. Something within her had known he would be all right.

No, the first time was when that same Will Stronghold dropped to one knee to ask her to marry him. By that time, Layla's freshman year in college, she'd realized that she wasn't in love with him. Not anymore. Her fear, her deepest shame, was that she had to hurt him. The thought that she might lose him forever as even a friend had struck her dumb with fear. So much so, she'd said yes, without much thought.

Their engagement lasted three weeks. And her worst fear had come true when it ended.

The second was when a tsunami had ripped through the small south Asian town she was visiting. She'd spent the week trying to help the struggling crops grow, to save the lives of the village. Then the storm had ripped through, killing at least half. All of her power of vegetation couldn't help when the winds and water were tearing the island apart.

She still had nightmares of the sounds, the screams. The aftermath.

The third and perhaps the worst, was the phone call she'd gotten from her mother, telling Layla that her father- a citizen-had had a heart attack. Her strong, robust, doctor father, who saved lives on a daily basis and was just as much a hero as any man with super powers, was laying in a hospital bed with little chance of survival.

She still could barely think about that, even though he had survived and was thriving, playing with her younger sisters kids.

None of them, however, were quite like this oily terror sliding through her as she stepped onto the cool tile of the hacienda, surrounded by stocky Mexican men with guns. Unlike Will, bullets could hurt her and Layla was rethinking her plan with each step.

"Por favor. Please. She pay me. My children, I need the money. Please, no bring me to Senor Battle…" Layla's companion was throwing her under the bus in heavily accented English. She wondered if he thought the begging would be better received in English, since he'd been going in Spanish since they'd been captured.

"Callate!" The man in front of them hissed in a gravelly voice. Layla looked around, the wide-open space of the veranda making way to the dark double doors that surely led to her doom.

But maybe she was being melodramatic.

"No, no, no." Her companion, Ramón, started crossing himself and muttering under his breathe in rapid fire Spanish. Layla could practically smell his regret at accepting her money to bring her here in the sweat that glistened on his dark skin. She couldn't blame him. Her heart was thundering in her chest like a freight train and a cold sweat was trailing ice down her spine. Everything she'd ever heard about Barron Battle, both lie and truth, swirled in her brain until the man she was about to face seemed as large and horrific as any Mythic beast.

"After you, senorita." The lead man leered at her, smiling wide to show a flash of a gold tooth. His eyes rolled over her brazenly, taking in her mud stained jeans and t-shirt, making her bare toes curl against the tile. She realized then that she'd lost her shoes somewhere and that made her feel even more vulnerable. Defiantly, she tossed her copper hair off her shoulder and leveled what she hoped was a scathing look at him. Chuckling, he turned the knob and the door swung open. Layla tramped down hard on her fear, straightened her shoulders and took her first step through the door.

The room was dim, the shutters closed against the harsh midday sun. It took just a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. There was nothing in the room. It was just a great open space with hallways leading off in different directions. The air was cool, much cooler than she had expected, and a shiver raced over her skin. Confusion pulled her brows together and she turned to look at the man.

"Layla Williams."

The voice boomed around them, seeming to rattle her bones. Her eyes shot around the room, panic pushing her heart up into her throat and she took a step back. She bumped into Ramón, who jumped away from her like she'd scalded him.

She heard their captors snicker at their surprise and instinct had her reaching out. A tree branch broke through one of the shuttered windows, twining its way towards the little group. The men cursed, Ramón started praying in earnest and all of them scrambled as another branch joined the first, then another. Layla threw her arms out, controlling them like her own appendages. She knocked the guns away from the men and broke out several of the other windows. Her eyes were open but she stared blind ahead of her, her control never wavering as a gust of wind whipped her hair around her face.

"ENOUGH!" That same voice lashed out, followed by a burst of heat that seared Layla's skin and broke her concentration. The branches were scorched before they hit the ground, their bark black and smoking. Layla felt hard hands grab her, felt the rough cut of rope in her skin as she came back to herself. Usually she had complete control of her powers. This time, she didn't and it left her groggy and disoriented.

"Is that necessary?" A voice asked, spilling over her like warmth on a cold night. She looked up, her eyes searching until they fell on him. Relief washed over her and she had to bite her cheek to keep from smiling. Warren Peace stood in the middle of the room, facing away from the small group, speaking to someone Layla couldn't see.

"I think it is." A man emerged almost as if from out of thin air. Layla gasped as she looked at the man come to a stop in front of Warren. There was no doubt in her mind that she was staring at Barron Battle himself. Aside from heavy lines cut into his face and the white streaking through his short dark hair, he was what she imagined Warren might look like in twenty years. Beauty cut by hard time, a prince darkened by murder.

"Don't worry son. We won't hurt your little friend." Barron reached up and placed a hand on Warren's shoulder, an indulgent smile curling the older man's lip.

"I didn't say she was my friend. I just don't like to see a woman mistreated." Warren countered, keeping his gaze averted from Layla, even as Barron moved toward her. She pushed away the sting those words caused, and focused her attention on the most infamous criminal in Super Hero history.

"Yes, yes. And a beautiful woman she is, indeed. Are you sure this isn't a friend of yours? Seems I remember hearing you went to Prom or something with a friend of Stronghold's." Barron paused in front of her, raising a hand to brush a lock of russet hair out of her face. "And this lovely lady fits the description."

"That was a lifetime ago." Warren answered, his gaze barely flicking over her. She searched his face for something, anything that would clue her into what he was thinking. But as ever, Warren was a mystery.

"Nothing to say for yourself, my dear? Since you so rudely entered my complex without an invitation, one would think you would be trying to beg for your life."

He doesn't mince words, does he? Layla thought to herself. Forcing her gaze away from Warren, she looked into the eyes of the man that gave him life. The dark orbs staring back at her were cold hard disks of malice and cruelty. An involuntary shudder made her jerk and she felt sickened at the delight that came over his features at her distress.

"Not much of a talker, ay?" He sneered down at her, and Layla was sure that if he had a mustache to twirl, he would. She thought she heard Warren snort, but she refused to look back at him, her attention squarely on the viper turning to face her once more.

"What are you doing here, my dear. And I expect an answer this time."

Defiance had her raising her chin and she quirked a brow at him. Probably not a smart thing, she knew. But as she hadn't really thought of a cover story, Layla figured silence was probably best.

A cry burst from her lips to join Ramón's harsh sob of fear when Barron lit up. Unlike Warren, where only his hands and triceps burst into flame, Barron Battle turned into a walking fireball. His head to his feet were covered in flames and the only features visible were the shiny black orbs of his eyes.

"Oh God," she hissed, stepping back and running square into the chest of her captor. She felt give as he too stepped back, the image of his master in flames apparently unnerving him as well.

"I told you, Layla Williams, daughter of Siren and friend the Stronghold family. The same family that put me into that prison, I…expect…an answer." Barron advanced on her, and Layla found herself stumbling backwards as her captors and Ramón scattered out of Barron's line of sight. She fell, hard on her butt, her hands hitting the floor painfully as she tried to push away from him.

"Barron! Stop." Warren put one flaming hand on his father's shoulder and jerked him around. "Enough."

Layla stared wide-eyed at the two men, one completely in flames, the other only engulfed to the wrist. Warren stared hard at his father, the sharp planes of his face made sharper by the orange light dancing over them. He was stunning in that moment, a fire god controlling not only the element, but also his own father. Layla felt her heart trip and fall in her chest, and the prick of tears in her eyes. If she'd ever doubted her feelings for him, there was no doubting them now. As his gaze quickly met hers, the flash of concern in them just as quickly covered up, she knew she loved him.

With a chuckle, Barron powered down, shrugging off the flaming hand of his son as if it were a fly. "As I said…a friend of yours." There was something in Barron's voice. Something hard and cold, that had Layla scrambling to stand. No easy feat with her hands tied behind her back.

"What if she is?" Warren finally acquiesced, positioning himself between her and his father, the broad length of his shoulders almost hiding Barron from her.

"Oh, it's of no matter to me." Barron replied, his voice deceptively mild. He turned, clasping his hands behind his back as he looked at Warren. "How do you know she hasn't brought the Enforcers with her?"

"Look at her. She's alone. No weapons, no tracking device."

"That we can see. I'll admit, she is refreshingly unadorned. Most women now a days where much to much make-up and jewelry. However, I can tell you, there is more than one way to hide something you don't want found. Isn't that right, my dear?"

"I've gone rogue." Layla spoke for the first time, her voice shaky and dry from not speaking for so long. She was sure Warren would say it was some kind of record.

"Really?" Barron drawled, a sneer curling his lip. "I find that fascinating. May I ask why? I'm fairly sure it's not because of me. Although, I would be deeply flattered if it were."

He was mocking her, baiting her.

Shit, shit, shit, she chorused in her head.

"I.I…" she paused, breathed, then tried again. "They wanted me to bring Warren in." True enough. She did well with the truth. "I don't want too." Again, truth. Ok, good. She hadn't lied and hopefully Barron wouldn't question that too much.

The older man smiled. It was a smile that a much younger Layla would have called a Grinch-y smile. Now she just called it evil.

"You must care a great deal about my son."

"I do." She said without hesitation. She felt more than saw Warren tense as she was keeping her eyes on Barron. If anything, the man's smile got wider, broader, and scarier.

"Wonderful." Layla screamed as a fireball erupted from the fist he flung towards her. Warren jumped, his body taking the brunt and force of it, the action knocking him backwards and straight into Layla.

Bright lights exploded behind her eyes as she fell once more to the floor, smacking her head on the tiles. She thought she heard her name, the sound of it tiny and desperate as the darkness over powered the lights and dragged her underneath.

Con't