Didn’t matter. Swansong dropped down from above, white costume a swirl around her, and landed on the back end of the car that had come away. She made a threatening motion toward the guy closest to her, and he almost fell in his haste to get away.

“Guns in the car,” I called out.

A blast of her power made the other two men back off, but that meant they moved closer to me, and deeper into my aura, which was more intense as they drew closer to me. Caught in the middle, they stopped, paralyzed. Swansong turned to look at the contents of the car, one hand still out.

The sliding loading bay door rose, and there were two men and two women on the other side, all with what looked like riot shields in front of them, truncheons in their hands. The shields and truncheons all visibly crackled with electricity.

Precipice leaped from the rooftop, tilting as he fell so his head was closer to the ground than his feet were, silver blades already made but held firm in each hand. He stopped in mid-air, twelve or fifteen feet above the alley floor, and hurled silver blades, produced more, and threw them as well.

Ashley picked up the tinker gun, and aimed it at the group, nozzle glowing bright green.

One of them, maybe the squad leader, pointed the truncheon at her. The gun went black. She threw the gun aside, and produced a blast of her power instead—a gout about ten or fifteen feet long, not long enough to reach those at the loading bay door, but enough to give them pause.

Speaking of. I addressed the three workers. “Stand down. Kneel. I’ll tie your wrists, we’ll put you somewhere safe and warm.”

They looked at one another, then charged me instead.

Wretch down.

The first one took a swing for my face. I brought my forcefield up again, just for a second, while moving my head in the direction of the incoming swing.

Blood spray painted the Wretch, and I had a glimpse from the inside of a face, mouth open, teeth bared. It had let him punch teeth, and brought teeth together. Far more damage than I’d wanted.

It was enough that the other two backed off.

“Swan!” Precipice called out.

She threw the gun aside, strode forward, and put a hand out. Precipice resumed falling, and Swansong had a hand out to catch his upper body, averting the faceplant.

I saw the blur and the shifting of lights above. Our alleyway had its own little constellation above us, and that constellation became rock, then became water. Mostly became water.