I groaned as my Vitality worked through the st of the Hemlock poison still in my system. The stuff wasn't potent enough to kill me, but micro-dosing before a workout made every rep hellish—which was better for me in the long run.

  Slowly, I began the agonizing process of undoing the straps on my weighted vest, checking on my recovering stats as I did. Vitality was over the 70% mark, and Endurance sat just above 50%.

  Going to the gym—or anywhere, really—came with the risk of an assassination. Apparently, Bck Mask had upped my bounty to a clean million. That drew in both the crazies and the professionals.

  The city had truly turned against me, and I couldn't stay in a motel for more than forty-eight hours. Batman and Shade had both offered protection, but I wasn't inclined to accept help from either. It was for rgely the same reason—they wanted every hour of every day.

  If I wasn't scouting a location for Shade, I was feeding intel to Bruce and keeping tabs on Penguin's operation. I even had a mission lined up with Robin to break into the Iceberg Lounge and snag some information after hours.

  I didn't want to tip the fragile bance I'd established as a go-between. A few more weeks of this, and I could finally go on the offensive.

  I had already arranged for someone to work on the IDs for Mom and Sasha. Some private investigator Marj knew—she was handling the transaction. I paid her a fat chunk of cash to buy her silence.

  I knew she was loyal—but not that loyal. And I didn't mind paying.

  Between the jobs, I had close to seven million stashed in my inventory—a sum I was still surprised Penguin let me keep. No doubt Shade was his way of stiffing me, but the alternative had been the five grand he originally pnned to pay me.

  I was just about to slip on a clean shirt after a shower when it happened.

  The pressure in the room dropped like someone had lit a match in a sealed space. My skin prickled. I smelled something—burned copper and melted pstic. Faint, but rising.

  Fring cursed energy, I pushed off the carpeted floor, dashing across the room in a blink. I flipped the bed—frame and all—with one powerful movement and braced with Inverse just as the explosion hit.

  The window blew inward, fmes roaring into the room like a dragon's breath. The curtains lit up like tissue paper. The heat surged fast—too fast.

  The second explosion ripped the door off its hinges and smmed the bed into me. I endured it, even as fmes licked at my side.

  Inverse did its job, turning what should've fsh-fried me into a mild singe.

  With a grunt, I shoved the bed aside and unched myself through the shattered window into the parking lot.

  Screams filled the air. Desperate overnight guests poured out of their rooms in a panic. I looked up—and there he was.

  Firefly.

  His jetpack hummed behind him, wings keeping him aloft. He wore a green and yellow fme-retardant suit, a low, sinister chuckle bubbling from behind his mask. He cocked his fme gun.

  "Come on, kid. You're worth a million. Don't just stand there and gawk—make me work for it."

  I didn't answer. I fired four tranq shots straight at his neck—what should've been the weakest part of his suit. They bounced off.

  Fuck.

  His gun hissed and fred, spitting a stream of fire that licked my side as I dodged, spinning and vaulting over a car. Curtain swallowed me on the dismount, and I navigated the lot, putting vehicles between us.

  The first car exploded seconds after he started torching it. The second followed.

  I dove into the bushes before he could catch me, dispelling and reapplying Curtain, circling the motel. I grabbed a fire extinguisher and an axe, scaling the roof.

  Half the building was already on fire, and a group of ten guests found themselves stuck between a fming car and the walls. Firefly cackled the whole time.

  I slipped my mask on. Still shirtless, just pants on, axe and extinguisher in hand, I crept to the edge of the roof, hidden beneath Curtain.

  My grip tightened around the extinguisher. Just as I was about to call out, Firefly raised his voice, leveling the gun at the hostages.

  "Heard you were running with Batman. You wouldn't let these innocents fry, would you?"

  He slowly pushed on the trigger. "That bastard locked me up for five years. Five fucking years. The cash is just icing now."

  I filled the axe with cursed energy and let it fly. It sliced through the air with a sharp whoosh, knocking his gun aside. I threw the extinguisher to the guests and leapt from the roof, Curtain dropping as I nded, gun drawn.

  The bullets punctured his wings, sending him spiraling. I could've shot his fuel tank and ended it. But I remembered what I was working toward.

  My freedom. Revenge. My family's safety.

  And the hostages. They wouldn't survive the bst.

  But that didn't mean I wouldn't take Firefly apart.

  I shot off before Firefly recovered, and he grabbed his gun. The nozzle of the weapon sputtered wide from where the axe had hit it, but it was still deadly.

  The fire came screaming at me, but I juked left, fred Inverse, and fired my tranq gun at his visor.

  He flinched. I sped up with Overdrive. By the time he reacted, I was already on top of him.

  My punch sent him spinning—but he didn't fall. His jetpack kicked back to life, stabilizing him. He cranked his gun again and let loose.

  A wide, searing stream of fme. It was the biggest one yet.

  It would've roasted the hostages who hadn't escaped. It could've overpowered my Inverse. Fire dealt incremental damage to my technique, but concentrated heat at this level was like taking a bomb to the face.

  The smart move would've been to retreat, let him burn out his accelerant.

  But I didn't.

  "Run!" I found myself screaming at the hostages while I charged the fire, arm spread wide to take as much of the fme as I could, while I leaned on my technique.

  Inverse held until I was inches from the gun. I ripped it out of his hand with a flying kick and drove him into the dirt with another to the sor plexus.

  The pain hit all at once. Half my upper body was gone—twisted, red, and burned raw.

  It hurt worse than acid.

  Firefly scrambled for his weapon, but I stomped on his hand with Overdrive, snapping bone. I shattered his visor with a punch. Another dislocated his jaw.

  A third would've crushed his throat—if a hand hadn't caught mine mid-swing. Cold. Strong.

  It barely stopped me.

  Batman.

  There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as he looked at me—but I didn't care. My gaze returned to Firefly, and he looked at me with something akin to fear.

  "Are you--" Bruce began, but I cut him off.

  "I'll be fine," I said.