Hero Stalker

Part Twenty-Seven

Dan was the first officer through the breach. He'd picked up a police jacket and a sidearm from the locker in his car. His eyes flickered around suspiciously as he lead six other officers forward. Two of them went to restrain the pimply pair of young journalists who'd snuck in the gap with their camera. The Clarion had probably sent two junior reporters to cover the car expo. Since the pair would get their pictures on tomorrow's front page, they didn't look too upset at getting dragged out.

A team of EMTs had descended on the unconscious henchmen. One of them shot Peregrine a dirty look. Guess he'd also heard the scream.

"I was having a nice date before the party crashers arrived," Dan said. He looked bored. "Any clue what were they after?"

"A car engine." Cypher pointed down at the hole in the red car's hood. "One worth millions of dollars."

"Oh, it's the pussy car." Dan bent over the hood. "How'd they get it out?"

"They flew." From the frustration in Cypher's voice, you'd think someone had stolen his firstborn. He pulled a black device the size of a cellphone from his belt. "My psi-meter isn't detecting any radiation signature from Harpy."

"Until the Centurions hand over a psi-meter for independent testing, they're inadmissible in court," Dan said. "But if you guys want to drop the case, go ahead. I'll go cook some dinner and y'all can do whatever it is you do in your spare time."

"Program computers."

"Figures. Want to give this one to the FBI?" Dan paused. Then both he and Cypher cracked up. Peregrine rolled her eyes and blew a lock of hair out of her face. I didn't get it.

Maybe I wasn't in a joking mood. You idiot. You total idiot. What had I been thinking, grabbing Harpy's ankle? I should have realized earlier Harpy wanted the Edison. Randolph had mentioned it cost twenty million dollars to develop. And his henchmen had done nothing but engage the Centurions. Harpy hadn't sent them to nab cars, just to make a diversion. I should have known . . . but the moment the explosion had gone off, adrenaline had flipped the override switch on my brain.

Dan turned to me. "Name?"

I almost said Gloria Dodson, but he knew that already, didn't he? "Shadowcat," I blurted out.

"You gotta be kidding me," he muttered, and I just knew he'd seen past my mask, but he just looked down and jotted 'Shadowcat' on his notepad. Sweat dripped down his forehead. "You pick that out yourself?"

"Femme Fatale came up with it."

Dan sighed. "I've heard worse. Did you also witness this man in a robot suit? Sorry. Ever since Visions trashed Miami, I've got to ask."

"Harpy? Yeah. He went . . ." I pointed up at the sky, knowing I couldn't get more vague.

Dan looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. "Okay," he finally said. "Officer Gibson will take your statements. Gibson!"

A skinny young man in an ill-fitting police uniform materialized out of thin air. I jumped and ended up flying five feet backwards.

"I told you to stop doing that," Dan said.

"Sorry, Detective Silver." Officer Gibson stared down at his shoes.

"I remember you," Cypher said, rubbing his chin. "You were at the team tryouts four years ago. The teleporter."

"Yeah, well, a ten-foot radius isn't good enough to qualify for the Centurions." Gibson lifted his clipboard and turned to me. "Let's start at the beginning, ma'am. When did you arrive on the scene?"

I couldn't miss the flicker of jealousy in his eyes. What could I say? Don't worry, I'm a failure who's about to get kicked off the team? I'd be able to openly use my powers then—but only for party tricks. Not for stopping crime. Not for what they were meant to do. Would that make him happy?

"I need to find my date," Dan said, and stomped away.