But the body had its demands, and as she felt the aches and pains of the skirmish the night prior, a skirmish where she hadn’t even touched anyone, she had rationalized that she needed rest to let her body repair itself. She didn’t even remember the act of lying down.

Damsel didn’t feel any less sharp than she had the day before, but her mood felt like it rested at a different angle. She still had momentum, she had the ability to do this if she could keep her power under control, but her thoughts kept looping back on themselves.

Not second-guessing. No, she was confident. She was also very aware of how any one person, situation, or even bad luck could pull the rug out from under her.

Very, very aware.

The others were standing around their car. Stocky brick buildings lined this street, and a path between two buildings led to a narrow strip of grass and sidewalk at the edge of a little river. She couldn’t stand still, so she walked around the block, traveling the line of the river. She paid attention to rooftops, and to the residential buildings with signs of being lived in.

Sleep was dangerous because she couldn’t know what it would take away. She had rolled the dice, and she counted herself lucky that she had woken up ready to safeguard her accomplishments.

She had minions, and she had an objective. Her triumphs from the night prior were stacking up with other recent wins. Evading the PRT, dodging the cops at the station, an intimidating show as she revealed her cape self to the local teens. They weren’t important, she hadn’t even bothered to remember their names or which one it had been that had invited her to dinner. The show had been the important thing.

Damsel knew she needed to eliminate someone important to make room for herself to step into the scene. She didn’t want a big neighborhood, not to start.

The Brothers were sounding like they wanted to cooperate with the Clockwork Dogs. That took them out of the picture. The Four might go elsewhere.

There were people in other areas, but she wanted Deathchester. That left two opponents, and they were in the area to look into one of them.

A little wooden bridge with railings that looked like they were made entirely of rust gave the residents of these row-houses and blocky apartments a way to get past the river and approach the water. Damsel approached the bridge and stood up on the middle bar of the railing, the top bar pressing into her shins.