“We should call for an ambulance,” D.J. said. “I’m not sure if you all killed any.”

Love Lost made a motion with one hand, claws glinting where they were mounted on her fingers.

“Calling,” D.J. reported, hesitating as he turned to the others, “what do you think? Three ambulances?”

“More than that,” Sidepiece replied. “What happened?”

“They came after us. We came back at them harder,” Nailbiter said.

“Good thing D.J. and I showed up when we did,” Sidepiece said.

Nailbiter gave her a look.

It wasn’t that Nailbiter disliked her or she disliked Nailbiter, but Nailbiter was a veteran. Almost a decade under her belt, being a villain. That shit hardened a woman. Nailbiter wasn’t one to relax, play around or laugh at jokes until she’d had drinks.

By contrast, D.J. wasn’t hardened enough. He was here because she was here and if pushed he sometimes collapsed. He was figuring her out and she was figuring him out. They made a good team, because she could deal with numbers and he could trip up any one enemy. But even this shit with gunfire, or shit like the Fallen, it wasn’t as big as some of the shit they could end up getting stuck in. She wasn’t absolutely sure he was fucked enough in the head to have her back when it counted.

She missed Damsel. Damsel had been willing to let the facade crack to fucking smile now and then. Sidepiece had started to think it was all an act, part of the undercover op, but during the interrogation in the shed, she’d still seen those small smiles.

Shit like that fueled Sidepiece. It was rare she could meet someone and feel like she could take on the world with them at her side.

She kept picking up guns.

She wasn’t done with Damsel, she decided. If the princess wanted to act proper and heroic, then Sidepiece would find a way to drag her into the muck. There was a kind of romance in the mental picture of the two of them too beat up to move, bloody and dirty, and the facades cracking. Emotion pouring out.

There was a romance to the scene, but a purely platonic intent, she decided. Damsel’s ass was far too skinny for Sidepiece’s tastes.

Speaking of. They had a report to make.

“How did you know that Tattletale wouldn’t pick up on us?” Sidepiece asked.

Love Lost looked over one shoulder, peering through red hair at Sidepiece. The hair had been dyed at one point, when Love Lost had been doing covert missions and had sought something more subtle, and it still lacked its brighter tones as some of the dye was still there. Blood red, if anything.

Love Lost’s claw moved, tapping out something in the air. She slashed it to one side, as if it was a kind of punctuation.