took my diamonds!” a woman shrieked, pale face livid. “Get them now!”
Luke reined in the urge to roll his eyes, reminding himself that he was doing this to protect all of Gotham City as he launched himself out the broken window.
He’d haul all three of them into the GCPD precinct.
Starting with Catwoman.
* * *
—
Selina hit sixty, seventy, eighty, the car opening up beautifully as they cruised through Robinson Park’s empty, curving road.
Her roaring blood was a song inside her, sweet as the warm night air around them.
No rules. No barriers. Nothing to hold them back.
Selina leaned into the feeling, savoring it.
Harley was cackling, draping herself in pearls and bracelets, and throwing a few over Ivy’s head.
Behind them, red and blue lit up the night sky. Selina pushed the car faster, the engine a velvety purr rumbling through the trees.
They rounded a curve, Ivy oomphing as Harley slid into her, jewels and pearls clacking against each other. Selina checked the rearview mirror, assessing those sirens and how close their lights were in pursuit.
A black shadow cut across the sky.
“We’ve got a bat on our tail,” Selina called to them.
Harley and Ivy fell silent, whirling around in the back seat.
Harley swore, scrambling for her bandolier of explosives as Batwing soared toward them with his wings—bat wings—spread wide.
“Creative,” Ivy muttered, that long, deadly vine at her hip now dangling from her hand.
“His suit is reinforced armor,” Selina shouted. “Go for the wings.” The retractable, mechanical wings that allowed him to glide long distances.
A gamble to order them to shoot him down, but telling the women don’t kill him would involve too many explanations and questions.
A long strand of opera pearls streaming behind her, Harley unhooked one of those smiling orbs and hurled it toward him with the skill of a pitcher.
Batwing swerved, nimbly avoiding the ball as it exploded right where he’d been.
If it triggered anything in his PTSD, it didn’t slow him.
Harley lobbed another one, a third on its heels.
Batwing again soared upward, dodging her shots. Gaining on them.
“He’s still out of range for my vine,” Ivy called over a shoulder as Selina held the car steady. “If you hit the brakes—”
Batwing lifted his arm, firing his own shot.
Some sort of arrow aiming for the back tires.
Selina swerved. Harley cursed, slamming into Ivy, whose vine wrapped around Harley to steady her.
The arrow went wide, ricocheting off the asphalt.
“This dude needs a major attitude readjustment.” Harley pouted, trying to free herself from the tethers of Ivy’s vine. Batwing raised his arm again, preparing another shot to their tires.
Ivy pushed Harley off her, her vine sliding free. “I think you’re right,” Ivy hissed, and lifted her arm. “He’s gotten close enough.”
Selina couldn’t agree more.
“I’ll line up the shot for you,” Selina called to Ivy, taking another curve, then soaring over the small bridge spanning the Finger River, which cleaved Robinson Park in two. “Face forward and get ready.” She ordered over her shoulder, “Seat belts on.”
She veered to the left as Batwing fired another steel arrow. Ivy and Harley grinned and saluted before they obeyed.
And as they hit a long, straight bit of road, Selina slammed on the brakes.
The seat belt bit into her, even through her suit. Harley swore behind her.
Batwing zoomed overhead as they slammed to a stop. Exposing his back to them.
Ivy unclipped her seat belt and leapt into the front seat, balancing her forearm on the windshield. Within a heartbeat, she fired two long green vines, spearing through the night. One to the left, one to the right. Explosives and gases, Batwing had no doubt expected. But a living thing launching at him?
It seemed the element of surprise was on Ivy’s side as his wings flared, trying to halt and pivot him. Too late.
Both of Ivy’s vines hit home.
And whatever indestructible material Batwing’s suit was made of, his wings were not.
The vines ripped through metal and wiring like a hot knife through butter, sending Batwing tumbling toward the towering oaks.
Harley whooped, bouncing in her seat as she clapped Ivy on the shoulder. Ivy only grinned, small flowers blooming on her gloves.
“Brilliant,” Selina breathed, risking a full glance over her shoulder. She found herself answering Ivy’s grin beneath her mask. “Absolutely brilliant.”
Ivy sketched a bow—or as much of one as she could in her seat.
Still grinning, Selina adjusted the clutch and slammed on the gas, the Porsche shooting like a star into the night.
* * *
—
They ditched the Porsche on a side street, then took the subway back