Now We've Got a Horse Race

Kaze, sotto voice to Richter, "The kanji spirits on the leg may still be active."

Richter recoils as though from a rattling snake.

“Holy hell!” he explodes. “Any Finder can track this thing. They could be closing in right now!"

He glances up, sees Belle peering out the window, and nods. At least part of his responsibility is met.

“Sonny’s wiped out, Kaze’s watching Voinovich, Sky’s tapped. Michael, can you monitor sounds all around this house? We don’t have enough people to watch every window.”

Without waiting for an answer, Richter unwraps the leg and touches one of the broad-brush tattoos with his finger.

The tattoo glows red and smolders. Then it peels up from one end, floating free from the leg like a ghostly sign in the air. It grows larger. The walls are lit with an eerie red light.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” shouts Richter, and grabs the floating kanji with both hands.

The kanji struggles, then shrinks, flowing down Richter’s arms. You can see the glow through his shirtsleeves, then down onto his chest, behind his tie. It settles in place and makes a sizzling sound.

Richter yanks open his shirt. He’s got a brand-new, flaming red tattoo right below the peak of his rib cage. Its glow fades and flickers out.

Richter touches the tattoo wonderingly, then holds the hand in front of his face. Electrical arcs crawl up his fingers and arc between them. With a sharp SNAP!, a blue-white writhing arch of electricity leaps from his hand to the gaslight fixture (fortunately not in use at present.)

Richter chuckles.

“Crackler Power,” he says. “NOW we’ve got a horse race! You steal our Powers, we steal 'em right back. Where’s that leg?”

He looks around, noticing for the first time that everyone is looking at him in some alarm.

"What?" he says, shirt open to the new raw kanji scar, uncontrolled lightning wandering along his arms.