Mabel's expression steeled.
With a sharp pulse of water Myst, her body flickered—a blur of movement phasing in and out of visibility as spatial distortions rippled around her like mirages. Each blink was cleaner, faster and more surgical. The time for restraint was over.
Liam adjusted immediately, javelin spinning to meet her. The instant she phased back into reality, he struck—his blade sweeping toward her ribs in a vicious arc. But Mabel vanished mid-swing, reappearing just above his shoulder, twisting in the air to drive a palm toward the nape of his neck.
He ducked, countering in the same motion. The javelin swept upward, forcing her to vanish again, the weapon slicing through a ghost of her presence.
His eyes narrowed.
'She's faster now. Her blinks aren't following a pattern anymore.'
