flinch, even when his bug-eyed goggles steamed from the heat.
“Polarized glass.” He giggled. “Old school. I’m smarter this time.”
“But sadly, not prettier.” Iridium let her power die down and curled her fists. Blackwasp wasn’t that big, and all he had going were the stingers.
“Sweep the leg, Iri!” Taser called from where he had Duster down on his stomach, strapped into stun-cuffs.
“Get bent,” she shouted back.
Blackwasp used her moment of distraction to strike, and one of the stingers scraped across her cheek—not deep enough to release its venom, but plenty deep enough to hurt.
“Christo,” Iridium hissed. She caught Blackwasp’s arm on the backswing, twisted, and snapped the stinger off.
Blackwasp howled as bluish ichor dribbled from his wound. “You bitch.”
Iridium kicked him in the back of the knee and took him to ground in a police hold. “And don’t you forget it.”
She held a hand out to Taser. “Cuffs.”
“So hot when you say it like that.” Taser dropped the stun-cuffs into her palm.
“Put a sock in it, Bruce.” Working with Taser was almost as bad as taking down junior supervillains. If he hadn’t been so damn competent, she probably would have strobed him by now.
Iridium cuffed Blackwasp, who’d reduced himself to snuffling invective against her looks, her parentage, and her fighting skills. She looked up at the merc. “If Bruce is even your name.”
“Yup,” he said. “Bruce Hunter. I never lied to you, Callie. I just omitted.”
Iridium hauled Blackwasp to his feet. “You don’t get to use that name.”
Bruce’s face crinkled under his mask. “Who does?”
“People I trust.”
A cop hover pulled up, Oz’s unmarked just behind it. The patrolmen came over with their hands on their shock pistols, and Iridium stepped back, raising her hands. “All yours, Officers.”
Oz touched the lead patrolman on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Dennehy. Iridium here isn’t like the others.”
Dennehy took in the villains and Iridium, and the mess they’d made of Lower Wabash. “Thanks, I guess.” He handed Feedback off to his partner and took Blackwasp and Duster himself.
“You crippled me!” Blackwasp shouted at Iridium. “I’m gonna sue!”
“Watch your head,” Dennehy said, and banged Blackwasp face-first into the roof of his hover cruiser.
Iridium smiled at Oz. “I like that guy.”
“Bright future, that kid,” Oz agreed. “Probably be the commissioner in five years, the way things are going.”
Citizens had started to creep back outside, cleaning up glass and brick, and picking up overturned possessions. A bum reclaimed his shopping cart and gave Iridium a toothless grin. The owner of the rental store came over and held out her hand. “You did a good thing,” she said. “Thank you.”
Iridium looked at the woman’s extended appendage, nonplussed, but Taser grabbed it and pumped it. “Just doing our job, ma’am.”
Even the dealer on the corner—one of the Russians, judging by his tattoos—tipped Iridium a salute before he skulked away from Oz and his gold detective’s badge.
“I’ve been held up three times this year,” the woman said to Iridium and Taser. “This is the first time I’ve seen uniformed cops in Wreck City in … well … years.”
“New Chicago PD is making some changes, ma’am,” Oz said. “Our influence is no longer mitigated by … outside parties.”
“You show up next time I trip the silent alarm because some punk has a plasgun in my face, I might believe that,” the woman huffed, then stomped back into her shop.
Iridium chuckled. “Not your biggest fan, Oz.”
“And the NCPD isn’t yours, Iridium, but here in Wreck City, we take help where we can get it.” He patted her shoulder. “Fight the good fight, kid.”
Taser watched Oz leave and cracked his knuckles. “As far as first dates go, this was pretty good, wouldn’t you say?”
She glared at him. “How long will it take for you to realize those lines don’t work on me?”
“The lady doth protest too much.”
Iridium ignored him, electing instead to put a comlink in her ear. After they’d foiled the bank robbery two days ago, Steele had insisted she take an earpiece and be given an Ops channel. Just in case.
So far, Iridium had answered every time they’d called. She didn’t really want to go home, and Boxer seemed content to stay at Wrigley Field with Hornblower, so … why not keep her grid from devolving into an urban slice of hell?
“What does work?” Taser said.
Iridium frowned at him, considering what worked—and if she should tell him. Jet had clearly marked her territory when he was her Runner.
But Jet wasn’t here.
Finally, she said, “Try taking off your mask, for starters. And I