And those are the ones who got off lucky. If that’s not bad, I don’t know what is.”
She bit back a sob and said nothing.
Team Alpha rode in silence until the cruiser landed. As soon as the door opened, Blackout vaulted out, followed quickly by Luster and Night.
Holly Owens Greene closed her eyes and whispered a prayer that, somehow, they could stop Hal without hurting him. Then Angelica opened her eyes and joined her teammates.
Lady Liberty was, shock, another Lighter, using a fake torch as a power focus. She looked ridiculous in her long toga and pointed crown. And if she was going sleeveless, Angelica decided, she really needed to shave her pits. If Vixen were here, she probably would have said the same thing. Aloud.
Liberty didn’t bother with introductions. “Police evacuated all of Alphabet City, and most people actually left, which is something. We’ve got Hypnotic pinpointed in the Projects, but we can’t ferret him out to see which of the ten buildings he’s calling home. His henchmen are making it all but impossible for us to get any reconnaissance.”
“Henchmen?” Angelica asked, blinking.
“Innocents he’s brainwashed into doing his bidding,” Liberty said. “Hundreds of them.”
Oh Christo.
“Why don’t you gas them out?” Luster said.
Liberty rolled her eyes. “Gosh, thank you so much for the suggestion. We never would have thought of that, or already pushed through the request to have it sit on the mayor’s desk for hours while he reviews the P&L of matériel and man-hours versus nonconstituent lives saved.”
“Squatters?” said Night.
“Some. Mostly those who have better things to do on Election Day than vote.” Liberty sniffed. “They got the ‘unwashed masses’ right, I’ll give them that much. You ask me, we should let Hypnotic have them, just get us the hell out of this shit-hole island. But the governor will pitch a fit if we don’t end this thing, immediately.”
Angelica wanted to push her, bliss her out until she was a zombie, then shove her off the roof. She thought she showed remarkable restraint.
Less so, her husband. “So why’re we wasting time with you?” Blackout flexed his fists. “Point the way, Libby, and then get out of the way.”
Liberty narrowed her eyes. “Listen, you Shadow freak—”
“Children,” Luster growled. “Behave.”
The woman glowered at them all. “One block up Eighth will bring you right to Tompkins Square. Try not to get killed.” She stormed off, yanking open the roof door and letting it slam behind her.
“Start spreadin’ the news,” Blackout sang, rubbing his hands gleefully. “We’re leavin’ today.”
“Christo, shut it.” Night spread his arms wide, threw back his head as if trying to catch the sun’s rays. Angelica’s breath frosted, and she wrapped her cloak around herself. A river of black pooled beneath him, spreading out into a wide circle. “Hop on.”
Angelica held on to Blackout’s waist, and Luster put a hand on Night’s shoulder. The four of them zoomed down, almost too fast for Angelica to take in the burned smell of the air, the thickness that threatened to suffocate.
“Black and White, back in action,” Blackout said happily.
Night growled, “Please. Shut up.”
Tompkins Square Projects loomed before them, concrete slabs that spoke of misery and abandoned dreams. “Blackout,” Luster shouted over the rush of wind, “do your ghosting and report. Ignore the civilians. Hell, ignore the New York Squadron. Just go in, find Hypnotic, and report back.”
The gleeful look on Blackout’s face made Angelica’s stomach pitch.
Blackout used the technique Night had coined Shadowsliding: He effectively transformed into a ghost, temporarily becoming part of the Shadow. As he ghosted into one of the buildings, Angelica and the others ushered off the civilian casualties—the entranced humans who were like movable dolls. The heroes loaded up person after person onto ambulance stretchers, and Blackout went into a second building, Shadowsliding, intangible, hunting for Doctor Hypnotic.
And then a third building. And a fourth.
Before he moved into the fifth, Angelica stopped him. “George, you’re bleeding.”
Blackout grinned at her as he wiped the trickle of blood from his nose. “Just greasing the works. It’s nothing.”
“It’s hurting you,” she said. “Stop. Rest. One of us can—”
“Can what?” he snarled. “Walk through walls? Be invisible? Not even our precious Night can do that, now can he?”
One of the others said something, but she tuned him out. Smiling to offset Blackout’s coming rage, she put her hands up in surrender. “You’re right.” She pushed, just a smidge, to blunt his anger.
His eyes widened, glazing, and his mouth opened in a surprised O.
Someone spun her around roughly. Night. She stammered, “What’re