Un2talented (Book 3 of the Un2 Series)
Chapter Seventy-Eight

“That is definitely not good!” Deleon confirmed.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asked. “What is not good?”

“Is he?” Dorian gulped.

“Yes,” Reese sighed. “Yes, he is.”

“Who is what?” Charlie shouted.

“This is beautiful! Just freakin’ beautiful!” DeLeon groaned.

“What can we do?” Griffin rose, leaving the breastplate in the dirt. “It recognized the elbow to my jaw as combat. It has chosen him as the victor.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Someone tell me what is going on!” Charlie pleaded, anguished.

DeLeon walked over to Charlie, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and squeezed him.

“Chuck, ol’ buddy, you are now the proud owner of a genuine, life-stream jumping piece of armor.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “And this is bad, why?” he smiled.

“Well, first of all, no good ever comes from the owner of the armor being an asshole.”

“Said the pot to the kettle!” Reese chimed.

DeLeon scowled.

“She’s not wrong!” Joey added.

“On a more technical level,” DeLeon continued. “The breastplate was intended for use by humans. It relies on the warm-blooded human form to function. The bloodstream acts as a conduit to connect the sacred elements contained within the armor. It has never been worn by any other breed.”

“What about dog boy over there?” Charlie pointed at Griffin.

“I started as human. My core parts are still human,” Griffin said. “Although, the addition of a corgi butt has been surprisingly positive!”

“He’s not wrong!” Joey repeated.

“But, herein lies the rub. He must don the armor to take ownership. There’s no telling what might happen if he puts that thing on.”

“So, that’s it. He’s not human. The armor is useless. He needs to leave it where it sits and walk away.”

“But, the armor controls the bracelets! We’re stuck wherever the breastplate is located. What can we do about that?” Cadence asked.

The group huddled to discuss options.

“First off, about the bracelets. I’m removing mine. I don’t know about you, but having Charlie in the driver’s seat is not a ride I want anything to do with.” Reese tossed her bracelet to the ground. The others agreed and followed suit.

“Dorian doesn’t have a bracelet. How did you get here without using the armor?” Joey observed.

“I have a vehicle at the mouth of the Chronostream. We can fit everyone if some of you squeeze into the bed,” Dorian offered.

“Bed? You came here in a bed?” Joey asked.

“No. It’s a truck or a car. Or a truck-car-boat. People are divided on what it is. It’s called the Aquamino. You’ll understand when you see it.”

“Okay?”

Joey was still unsure.

“We would need to go back through the gazebo to get to it, but I know the way. Plus, Charlie has his punt. He can take a person or two. Right, Charlie? Charlie? CHARLIE!”

The ferryman had ditched the group and was holding the breastplate, admiring its potential.

“For the love of God, don’t do it!” DeLeon yelled.

Charlie looked back over his shoulder.

“Which God? The bastard son of Zeus that put me here? What care I about him?”

Charlie held the armor to his chest. Everyone braced for disaster, but nothing happened. He stood with his arms spread as if to say, “TaDa!” and then repeated the “TaDa!” motion with the same lack of results.

“Oh,” Griffin sighed. “That’s right! It doesn’t work without making contact with the body. Lucky for us!”

The group turned to Griffin in disbelief.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” He exhaled.

“Thanks, dog boy!” Charlie dropped the breastplate and began to remove his jacket.

Charlie savored the moment. He hung his suit coat from a stone jutting from the cavern wall and brushed the dust from its sleeve. “Italian,” he winked and loosened his tie.

“This could be something or nothing, but I suggest we treat it as if a big something is about to hit the fan. Let’s head for the gazebo!” Reese pressed.

“ You go!” Leslie urged. “Someone needs to hang back just in case.”

“In case of what?” Dorian asked.

“In case you need more time to reach the gazebo. I’ll give you as much time as I can.”

The group headed toward the exit.

Gary barked, moved beside him, and sat. DeLeon stepped up, as well.

“I appreciate the gesture, but you need to go with them.”

Gary barked in protest.

“I promise, I’ll be right behind you if things get bad. I don’t plan on being a hero, just a speed bump. Now, go!”

“Gary, c’mon!” Cadence beckoned.

Gary begrudgingly joined the group already headed out of the grotto.

“You should go,” Leslie urged DeLeon.

“You may not have the desire to play the hero, but I live for it! “

The group hesitated, but DeLeon waved them on.

“Silk.” Charlie looped his tie over the collar of the suit coat.

DeLeon picked up the berserker sword and wiped the blood from the blade across his sleeve.

“I assume that Dorian’s transformation had something to do with your bloodline. If I hand this to you, will I have two terrors to vanquish?”

“Are you willing to risk it? I can use one of your foils.”

“They’re a matched set; I’d prefer to work with what I am familiar with. Your blade is a bit on the bulky side and far less elegant.”

DeLeon stepped back a few steps and allowed the sword to slide forward until he held it by its tip. He extended its grip to Leslie. The potential berserker withdrew from the weapon.

“Take it,” DeLeon urged. “This is the most excitement I’ve had in centuries.”

Leslie reached for the blade with an extended index finger. He winced as his fingertip met with the grip. He felt no significant change. He took a deep breath as he slid his hand farther up and took hold of the blade. There was a surge of exhilaration, but no loss of self-control. He exhaled heartily.

“I don’t know if I should be happy or disappointed,” DeLeon chuckled.

“Linen!” Charlie yelled, sensing that he was currently not the center of attention.

“There’s still time to change your mind, Chuck! Just walk away!” Leslie pressed.

“Says, the guy who just risked turning into a giant maniacal polar bear!” Charlie quipped.

“In the words of our good friend, Joey, ‘He’s not wrong!’” DeLeon shrugged.

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