Not as fast as me, it seemed, but far more maneuverable.

I drew in closer.

She hit me, and I didn’t see what with. A flash, an impulse.

My head was flooded with information. Everything and nothing. Every priority I had. March and the time effects, Love Lost and the hostages, Cradle and the people he had apparently butchered, who would be stronger if Love Lost got close. The team, the dynamic with the Undersiders, the Heartbroken, the kids—I couldn’t help but go to that. And from there my brain leapfrogged to the Major Malfunctions to Fume Hood and the other low-level capes who had been so neglected. To the major teams and that I still had to prove my worth to them. To the organization I was trying to set up—not in the sense that I wanted an institution, but I wanted to organize, and that meant something vaguely institutional.

I wanted to stop anyone from being hurt like I’d been hurt. I wanted to stop every Amy out there. I wanted to save every Glory Girl, stupid and barbaric as they might be. I wanted to help Jessica help Breakthrough and I was worried that by failing to stop Chris I’d failed her.

A surge of feeling, of paralysis and motivation in overwhelming measure.

And I’d been driven back by it, because it had tapered off as I’d pulled away.

Which meant the flier was free to continue.

I saw her course, and I had a pretty good idea of what she was capable of now. I halfway knew what she was doing before she used the black energy blades at her hands to swipe at a lamp post, severing the post that held up the glowing head. The metal crashed to the ground, and the van rolled over it, bucking, almost leaping into the air.

Rain steered, and navigated the traffic that was freaking out, people stopping midway down the road without pulling over after hearing the crash.

The van was almost recovered when Nailbiter struck again from the alley. Rachel’s dogs leaped, crashing into them, and instead of striking dead on or through the windows, they raked along the top, still forceful enough to topple the van, knocking it onto its side, directly in the path of incoming vehicles.

I swooped down, curving as I descended. I was almost flying horizontal as I hit it, knocking it out of the lane.

I heard a door pop open. Foil, climbing out the door that was now facing sky. She had the gun in her hand, for all the good it would do here.

I really hoped Chastity had revoked her power from our captives. Else we wouldn’t have her, and we’d potentially have an escaped Lord of Loss.