Edict had a pitying look on her face. It only irritated Damsel more.

“I wouldn’t move to Boston if you moved,” Edict said. “I was assigned to keep an eye out for you and that’s what I do. We’re not your enemy.”

“You’re not my ally, either,” Ashley said. She stood a little straighter. “They’re my allies.”

Edict turned around. The cape she was with raised his hands.

Ashley had asked names, but she didn’t remember most. The unpowered were hard to keep distinct. The boy with the freckles was J. The tall one was Bar. There was a girl called Angel, but she wasn’t a teenager. Just a girl who knew how to throw a punch.

Bar had two friends. Angel had a younger brother.

And Ashley had proven herself to the point that they had her back.

“Does your friend there have a power that can deal with all of us?” Ashley asked. “I know your power affects one person at a time.”

“Don’t go. We can talk. There is a place for you in Boston if you want it.”

“Same old story. Lies, to get me into custody. No. And no more talking. No more using your voice. If she talks again, knock her teeth out. If she gives someone an order, that person should obey. The rest? Knock her teeth out.”

Ashley took a step, disobeying the ‘stop’ order she’d been given. Pain exploded through her head, and as it dissipated, some of the peripheral vision in her left eye was gone.

Sometimes it was as minor as a tingle in the fingertips, blindness to the color blue, or a verbal tic. Sometimes it was more severe. Partial or total loss of a sense, or loss of the use of a limb. Hallucinations. Emotional changes. Sometimes an effect lasted a few minutes, sometimes it lasted days or weeks.

“I’ll see you soon, I’m sure,” Ashley said, as she walked past Edict.

Over the years, Ashley had learned it made sense to just obey, to avoid the annoying or the crippling. She’d learned to avoid giving Edict the chance to say something.

But this order had been to stop, and she had no intention of slowing down or stopping anytime soon.

Eclipse x.4

She regretted sleeping. There were businessmen and entertainers who could be up for seventy-two hours without sleeping, and she was pretty sure she understood why. She chased that. She liked to think of it as hibernating and storing energy for the days she needed to do more.

Sleeping was dangerous when every second counted.

Sleeping was a soft reset, and when things were working, a reset was the last thing she wanted.