Page 52

“She’s practically immortal. She could still be around and be in good shape.”

Amazing Woman was from the old days when Supers had super-gendered names. Her impenetrable body was essentially indestructible inside and out. By the time she’d stepped away from her duties, she was something like seventy years old but barely looked a day over fifty. You couldn’t blame her for being burned out. She’d retired before Spark and Ice’s time, so they’d never interacted with her. All Perry ever said about her was, “She was the most hard-headed person I ever met.”

“I hope I look slightly better than a hundred-year-old woman,” Joan said as she sat on the shiny leather seat. “The point is Sadie does think I’m Catch, and it sucks.”

“It does suck. She’s a cutie pie.”

“Isn’t she?” Warmth pulsed through Joan’s chest.

Mark started the engine and said, “She’s just your type,Catch.”

He released an evil cackle that got louder when she backhanded his arm.

Joan ignored his ribbing and calling her Catch on the short drive to their hideout. She’d half expected Sadie to freak out from that story about the equipment shed. Maybe a small part of Joan had told her as a test. A gauge of how much Sadie could tolerate, or would want to tolerate. But Sadie had clung to the idea of Joan heroically defending Mark, because Joan was a Superhero even before becoming a Superhero.

She didn’t usually feel so bad about lying. This gnawed at her head, at her heart, at her bones. The deep-down facts of what she’d told Sadie were true, but that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right. Sadie didn’t deserve it. And the longer this went on, the harder it would be to come clean.

They parked inside the warehouse and quickly changed into their gear. Mark pulled at the tight crotch on his bodysuit. “I’m not wearing the right underwear,” he grumbled.

“What’s the deal with tonight, anyway? What does Mel want us to do?”

“Perry said it’s cut and dry. A special art exhibit’s being delivered to the museum. Eighteenth-century paintings.”

“Art.” Joan snarled in annoyance. “He picked the thing Perry and I can’t resist.”

“He knows you love pretty things.” Mark snorted and added, “And that I’ll go along with whatever you do.”

“I made it clear we don’t want to be a part of his schemes anymore.”

“That’s why he’s trying to sweeten the score.”

They could decline the job and get Melvin off their backs, and she could hurry home to have dessert with Sadie, and thenhave dessertwith Sadie. If the rest of her tasted as good as her lips…

Only that would require having a conversation Joan was so not looking forward to having.

Perry came in through the back entrance, Irving and Ethel with him. All three were dressed for the task at hand: Perry in gray for Breeze; Ethel in black and yellow for Volt; and Irving in deep green for Hide.

“We’re really getting the band back together,” Mark muttered.

“We don’t have to do this,” Joan reminded him.

The twins stared at the hench-people. They didn’t like each other, but had found it necessary to tolerate one another for the greater good. Er, well, the greater bad, as it were.

Irving acknowledged them with a brisk nod. His straight brown hair poked out of his facemask. Ugh, his terrible halitosis wafted through the air. It was a hilariously cruel joke that he had the ability to be invisible yet could be detected by his foul breath. It got worse when he was nervous before a job.

Ethel scratched at the warm beige skin of her nose. Still the blandest individual on God’s green earth. She didn’t even shoot off electricity in a particularly interesting manner.

Joan turned toward Perry and said, “Don’t be tempted by shiny things. We’re turning this and all other jobs down.”

“Fine,” Perry grumbled. Then he murmured, “Could we start after I take a look at what’s in the shipment?”

“No.” Joan crossed her arms. The rubbery material of her gloves squeaked against her suit.

“You should commit to Trick now,” Irving said. “Before his big plan is set in motion.”

“You’re either with him or against him,” Ethel droned in her monotone.

“Against.” Mark waved his hands around. “How much clearer can we be?”