Danny, Taylor, and I talked for a good hour or two after I introduced myself as Apex.

  He was an interesting man. I could see where Taylor got many of her traits. He was awkward as hell, but he also had a quiet intensity to him that didn’t peek out too often. And while he never lost his cool, I could sense that he had a wicked temper.

  I think we got along decently and found a rhythm. We talked about meeting on the school tour, and how I’d been helping her as a kind of personal trainer. The realization that I wasn’t trying to eat his daughter or turn her onto a life of sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll seemed to pacify him.

  Taylor had relaxed a little, but not fully. She still seemed uncomfortable. I could see she wanted to get going. We got up and started making preparations to leave. Taylor went upstairs to grab some things from her room. I stayed and chatted with Danny.

  He turned toward me, concern etched on his face. He kept his voice low.

  “Is she… doing okay?”

  I reached out and rested a hand on his upper arm.

  Making eye contact with him, I shook my head slowly. “No, Danny. She’s hurting. She’s struggling. She’s angry and extremely insecure.” His shoulders slumped. “But, despite all of those things, she’s finding her way and finding herself. And she’s improving, slow and steady. Healing and growing.”

  “I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. That I’ve failed her as a parent,” he murmured.

  I bit my lower lip, thinking about how to phrase it. They really were similar in a lot of ways. “It’s natural to blame yourself. And yeah, as her parent, you’ve played a role. But I think you do the same thing she does, Danny.”

  He flinched just a bit at that, but didn’t interrupt. He listened.

  “You both internalize everything. Beat yourselves up more than you should. And the best thing you could do… is talk.”

  I took my hand off his arm, and he tensed up a little.

  “I’ve tried. And it backfired when I tried to force her to talk to me. She left home.”

  I smiled at him, and he frowned back at me.

  “It’s because you’re so alike, Danny. You step into the same pitfalls, and you line up and amplify each other’s sore spots and insecurities. It’s both a good and a bad thing.”

  “Can I give you my take on things, just knowing what little I do?”

  He nodded. “I don’t see how it could hurt.”

  “She’s super smart. School is probably boring for her, even if she didn’t have all the bullying problems. She’s been coasting along and neglecting herself in the process.”

  I met his eyes. “That’s a form of self-harm, you know?”

  He watched me, nodding slowly.

  “But I’m trying to help her channel that anger. And even though she’s stubborn as a mule, she’s starting to. Those documents from Carol? The fact that she went and had that conversation? That’s huge, Danny. I think she wants to learn, but if she has to choose between dropping out and continuing to face her bullies every day? She’d drop out. Ten out of ten times.”

  He took a deep breath and sighed. “You’re right. The school contacted me because she’s missed weeks of classes. Skipping constantly.”

  “I’ll buy her a laptop she can take with her and attend classes online. It’s what I do. I have a hectic life myself, and although it’s a challenge, I’m still on track to graduate. A few final exams and I’m done. I’ll help her with her studies when I can, if she wants it.”

  He got a pained look on his face and reached into his pocket for his wallet. I held out a hand and shook my head. “No, please. I’d be happy to help her, and I’m doing very well for myself.”

  He hesitated, then asked, “Should I call you Morgan, or Apex?”

  I laughed softly. “I’m just Morgan right now. Her friend and hopefully a good influence in her life.”

  “Well… Morgan.” He smiled faintly. “Thank you for helping Taylor. Is she… staying with you? I don’t even know where she lives now. It keeps me up at night.”

  Shaking my head, I replied, “No, she isn’t. I’ve extended the offer to her. My apartment got… literally blown up yesterday, we’re heading over there after this to see what, if anything, I can salvage from it. I have a second place, much nicer. If she needs a place to stay that she feels safe in, my door is always open for her, as are others.”

  He clenched his jaw. “I just… I don’t understand why she doesn’t want to be here. Why doesn’t she feel safe here?”

  That is… a hard thing to explain.

  Licking my lips, I tread carefully with my words: “Danny, can I be a little rude, a little frank?”

  “Of course,” he said, rubbing one arm.

  “I think you’re assuming this is about you. About your home. Your parenting. And yeah, maybe that’s a part of it—but I think it’s a small part.”

  “I haven’t talked to her about this, so I’m just basing this on my reasons for leaving home early. Try seeing it from another perspective. She’s smart. I doubt she made the decision lightly. Maybe she has good reasons of her own.”

  His expression twisted. Guilt fighting pride, love warring with frustration.

  “How can I not take it personally?” he asked, his cheeks coloring. “I’m her father. It’s my job to protect her. Take care of her.”

  I nodded, slowly. “And she’s your daughter. Sometimes… It’s her job to protect you. ”

  He blinked rapidly. “What are you trying to say?”

  “Just that family commitments aren’t a one-way street, Danny. This isn’t what’s going on, but what if she was in deep with the mob? What if you were? Wouldn’t you want to make space, so that kind of shit didn’t bleed over to the people you love?”

  Danny looked like he wanted to argue with me. Instead, he scratched his cheek and considered. Grudgingly, he admitted: “Yeah. Yeah. I could see that.” He sighed. “Is she at least eating, has a roof over her head, taking care of herself?”

  I smiled at him. “She is. She’s doing odd jobs around town–”

  Like robbing banks, but let’s not go there.

  “–and she’s got a serious talent for fashion design, of all things. She’s making some money for herself, she’s making friends, and she’s trying to fix some of the big problems in her life, like school. I’d say she’s doing pretty damn well, in all honesty.”

  “What? How? We don’t have anything to do things like that. Fashion design?” He sounded incredulous.

  I snickered and nodded. “Yeah, it’s weird, but true. She carries a little kit around to work on stuff. She’s really good at it. Has a line of people waiting for her to make them something.”

  He straightened a little and rubbed the back of his head, then he smiled. “Wow. I’m glad to hear that. Maybe it would be a good hook for her to get interested in university.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  I’m not sure they have insect-fiber apparel design at BBU.

  “Just… keep her safe, will you? Please?”

  I gave him a look, dead serious. “Danny, if someone tried to hurt her or go after her, I’d make them seriously regret making the life decisions that led them there.”

  I held my hand up, black nails with their strange shimmer facing Danny. I grew them out into my sharp claws. His eyes widened. He reached out slowly, checking for my reaction, and tapped the back of one.

  “They’re real, and they cut through steel like it’s butter.”

  He blinked his eyes rapidly. “Really? That’s… terrifying. How do you not hurt yourself with those?”

  I grinned, sharp and toothy, and retracted the claws. “Normally, I’m covered in what’s been lovingly referred to as tank armor. My claws can’t cut my armor, not by accident. And being terrifying? Sort of my brand now. I’m leaning into it.”

  The stairs thumped. Taylor came down with a second bag. I held a hand out, and she handed it to me.

  “All set?” I asked her. She nodded.

  I held my hand out to Danny, and we shook. “It was nice meeting you, Danny. I’m off to do damage control.”

  As we headed for the door, he called out. “Wait a moment.”

  We turned. He hugged Taylor, then turned to me. “Can I have your number? Just in case anything comes up?”

  I grinned. “Sure, I’ll beam it over to your phone…?” I looked around.

  He grimaced. “I only use home phones.” I tilted my head, shrugged, then asked him for a piece of paper.

  I wrote down my personal and work numbers. “This is for anything. Really. Call this one if there’s trouble.” I handed it over to him. “I’m always happy to talk about things. You get scumbags or gangs causing issues at work? Feel free to ring. I’ve got competitive rates on packages ranging from sternly worded warning to the pants pisser.”

  He laughed out loud. I grinned. He looked back at me, realizing I wasn’t entirely joking. I just kept grinning.

  “O-oh. Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  With that, we left on foot and headed towards my place.

  My neighborhood had been hit hard. Sixty, maybe seventy percent of the buildings were partially collapsed, fully collapsed, or in varying states of char and ruin. Fire services had come through at some point yesterday or last night and sprayed, putting out the fires.

  There was wet, sticky, muddy ash in the sidewalks, streets, and gutters. I was thankful that it hadn’t dried yet. Otherwise, this would be a hell of a mess. Respirator or filtered mask area.

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  My phone rang as we trudged along. I checked it. Melody.

  I answered it with a “Hey!”

  “Hey, umm…” she sounded hesitant, uncertain.

  I stopped walking.

  “...Everything okay?” I asked her.

  She sighed. “Yeah, it’s just. I feel like I owe you some apologies. The five of us have been talking for hours, and it’s just… there’s so much to it that I didn’t know. Stuff I misunderstood. Took for granted.”

  I nibbled my lower lip, then told her: “You don’t need to apolo–”

  “Morgan, please, just let me talk a moment?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve never really sat down and talked about this stuff with Amy or Victoria. They told me that from their perspective, you always tried really hard to include me. To make time for me.”

  I stayed quiet. Taylor looked over—concerned—and I gave her a thumbs-up.

  “So, I’m sorry. I’ve had a chip on my shoulder ever since you were in the accident, and you tried to tell me… You were right. Some things you just can’t understand unless you’ve been through them. I kept seeing you spend less and less time with me. Week after week. And it started to hurt.”

  She cleared her throat. “That’s what I wanted to say. I have a question, after.”

  I smiled. “Thank you for saying that, Melody. But what I meant wasn’t disagreement. I was going to say: you don’t need to apologize for how you felt. Your feelings were real. I hurt them. That’s not going to change. And I don’t blame you for being mad, or upset, or lashing out.”

  “Well, I feel bad about it now,” she replied quietly.

  “That’s okay. But let’s try to put that behind us, yeah? Thank you for apologizing. But don’t carry guilt for my sake. I don’t feel that way. I love you. That’s all that matters.”

  “I love you, too. I have an appointment tomorrow. With the PRT and Protectorate. Will you… Please come with me? For testing? I’m nervous. I know it’s complicated between you and them, but I’d feel better if you were there.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rubbed my forehead with one hand. She was silent, waiting for my response.

  “Yes. I’ll come. It might get awkward, but I’ll go with you. It’s out in the bay, right?”

  “Yes. Thanks. We’re still talking, and Mom and Dad are doing a ton of paperwork with me. I’ll let you go. Oh! Two PM tomorrow.”

  “OK. Plan on it. Don’t stress too much. Some of it’s intense, but it’s no worse than going to the doctor.”

  She groaned. “Ugh… Okay, bye!”

  “Later, Mel!” I hung up.

  Taylor looked over at me. “Melody is going in for power testing tomorrow with the PRT. She’s nervous, wanted me to go with her.”

  “Awkward…” Taylor commented.

  I chuckled and nodded.

  We got to my apartment. It hadn’t burned, but there was smoke and water damage everywhere. I was going to try and save what clothing I could, so I took soggy clothing and started wringing it out and tossing it into trash bags. Taylor was a huge help. My beanbag couch, which also serves as a bed, survived more or less undamaged. It was scuffed in a few places, but the shell was waterproof and stain-resistant, so it was good to go.

  Small blessings.

  As Taylor and I were working, her phone rang and she answered.

  “What? Where? Right now? I’ll be there… as soon as I can. We’re not far. Yeah, Morgan’s with me. Okay. Bye.”

  Taylor looked around. The remaining walls of the building offered decent cover. She started stripping quickly and fished out her costume from her backpack.

  I stood and cracked my neck. “What’s going on?” I asked her.

  “Some E88 thugs have a few of us cornered and are pushing for a fight. The uh, Purity thing has been resolved, I guess, but there’s other bad blood that’s popped back up.”

  Shit.

  “What’s the situation? Are they holed up?”

  “Tattletale, Grue, and Bitch are in a standoff with Hookwolf, Stormtiger, and Cricket. It’s… bad. I don’t think they could win in a straight fight.”

  “And they are letting them call in backup?” I asked, frowning.

  “This is some like… pride fight thing. They want to settle a score and aren’t letting them leave for a later date.”

  “I’d like to come with you,” I told her. I tied off the trash bags with clothing, tossed them on the bed, and hid my backpack in some rubble.

  Skitter turned to me, adjusting her mask. A swarm was already forming overhead.

  “It’s not like I can stop you.” She shrugged.

  I dusted off my hands and stretched.

  “After you.”

  I thought about changing, but I wanted to see what the situation was first. Potentially just dropping in as Apex might escalate things and endanger them.

  It wasn’t far. Three blocks and change. Still in a heavily damaged part of the city. Nobody was around.

  Bitch, Grue, and Tattletale were there. Bitch had three dogs, all juiced up and ready to go. They were standing in the middle of the street, with Hookwolf, Stormtiger, and Cricket in loose formation around them on three sides.

  Stormtiger was a buff white dude with baggy jeans, some hanging chains that were very out of date, and a sort of goofy-looking white tiger mask on his head.

  Cricket had short blonde hair, a rough hybrid between a pixie cut and a buzz cut. A metal cage covered her face, doing nothing to hide her identity. A nasty scar split her throat, and her arms were similarly marked. Wiry build. Dirty tank top. Stretch-fit jeans. Two kamas, lazily spinning by their chains in her hands.

  Then there was the top dog, Hookwolf. Another shirtless brute.

  Tall at six feet something. He was built like a tank, coated in thick blond body hair.

  Tattoos on both arms. Nazi shit.

  A stainless steel mask, shaped like a wolf’s head, covered his face. Long blond hair spilled over his shoulders. The mask was crude, but clearly hand-forged. Hammered. Welded. Loved.

  Skitter and I walked over to Grue, while the E88 stood there and watched us.

  Grue looked over at me. He had his weird echoing voice thing going on, and he asked, “Hey, surprised you came. This isn’t your fight.”

  I shrugged and grinned at him. “You ever consider that maybe I just like to fucking fight?”

  He chuckled. “The thought has crossed my mind more than once.”

  Hookwolf spoke up, and his voice also had a touch of echo to it from his mask. “I don’t care who you bring. We’re settling this here. Now.”

  “You’ve made it clear you want your pound of flesh, Hookwolf. And as I have been saying, we made a deal with Kaiser and with Purity. This was supposed to be handled,” Grue said.

  “And I said, I don't care what deals you made. That’s my problem. I’m here to fight, and we’re not leaving without one.”

  Grue clenched his fists.

  “I’ll kick his ass,” Bitch said, grinning widely. Or rather, baring her teeth.

  “I don’t doubt you Bitch, but this is an ugly fight for us.” He looked over at Tattletale.

  She nodded and looked between Skitter and Bitch. “He’s right. We can probably pull out a win, but even in a best-case scenario, several of us are going to the hospital.”

  “You think I care?!” Bitch spat at Tattletale.

  Yeesh. Talk about grouchy.

  I thought for a moment.

  Oh, right. All of this was probably about her in the first place. That thing with the dog-fighting rings.

  “I’ll do it,” I told the four of them.

  “I don’t need some weak bitch coming in to protect me. This is my dogs, I attacked them, this is my fight.”

  I held up a hand. “Hold up a moment.” I stepped up to her, and she thrust herself forward, challenging me. I kept my voice level and my posture loose. “I’m not a weak bitch. And I’m not here to protect you. I said I’d fight for you.”

  “It’s the same damn thing!”

  I shook my head and held her gaze. “No, it isn’t. Because I’m volunteering for you. You decide. Your choice. You’re in control.”

  “Then I–” she started to say, and Tattletale cut her off.

  “Bitch. I know you don’t care about getting seriously hurt, but what if he really hurt one of your dogs, or one of them died? He’s all knives, swords, hooks, and daggers under his skin. Even if they bit him, they’d get their mouth and face gouged out.”

  Bitch’s fists trembled. “Yeah? And what if she loses? What then?!” She jabbed me right in the chest with two fingers.

  Hurt like hell, but I could take it.

  “She won’t.” Taylor, this time. Quiet. Bitch seemed to listen to her the most out of the bunch for some reason. “I know she won’t. Let her fight for you, Bitch. We can end this, none of us gets hurt, and be done with it.”

  Rachel turned back to me and jabbed me several more times. “If you lose, I’ll kick your ass. You’ll regret it.”

  I stared at her, hard. “If I lose, I deserve it.”

  I didn’t let her respond; I stepped to the side and let her make the call. I could only hope she made a good one.

  The girl was grinding her teeth and looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel, but finally, she pointed at me and shouted at Hookwolf. “She fights for all of us. And we’re done after this.”

  Hookwolf turned his head from Bitch to me. Then he laughed. I grinned back at him. I thought this was pretty funny, too.

  “You,” he scoffed. “Against who?”

  I leveled an index finger straight at him.

  Take it to the top. These idiots are all strength worshippers.

  “You suicidal? I’ll kill you in a fight.”

  I spoke up. “No killing. Knockout or submission only. This is a pride fight, isn’t it?”

  “Fine,” he agreed quickly.

  “I don’t think it’s fair if I fight you without powers. And it’s probably too easy to cheat it if we tried.”

  Cricket made a noise that sounded like a goat choking to death on a corn cob.

  “I don’t even know who you are,” he shot back.

  “We’ve met before. At Somer’s Rock. You just don’t recognize me.” I thumbed my chest. “I’m Apex.”

  That got his attention.

  “I think it’ll be a good fight, Hookwolf. Fun, at the very least.”

  “So how’s this going to go, little girl?”

  The irony might kill me.

  “We both shift. Real forms only. No reverting to heal. Fight until knockout or submission. Just you and me—no interference, no bystanders. Otherwise? Go wild.”

  He brought two meaty hands up and cracked his knuckles. “You’ve got a deal.”

  He started shifting into Hookwolf.

  I started shifting into Apex.

  His was both quicker and cleaner. I pushed mine a bit for speed, and both my clothing and my ‘costume’ tore. The pain of it sharpened my senses, got my anger roused up from deep inside.

  The splattering and splashing of blood was just the icing on top.

  Stormtiger and Cricket backed off to the side. Undersiders did the same.

  I stretched a little, and Hookwolf paced back and forth on all fours. In his form, his name was pretty descriptive. He looked like a wolf made out of whips, chains, swords, blades, spears, hooks, and needles. All clicking, jostling, and grinding against one another. He was the size of a mid-sized car on all fours.

  I was bigger by a decent margin, but also leaner in places, and not literally made of steel. Two deep blue eyes peered out from the wolf’s head, protected behind grills and mesh. That’d be a good weak point to attack. I didn’t have any great ideas for additional changes for this fight. Most of what I had wasn’t going to do a single thing against a big metal monstrosity.

  I think, I hoped he would be in a similar boat. It was genuinely hard as hell to cut my soft armor. And my hard armor? Good luck. You might as well try stabbing ceramic composite tank armor. My head was encased, my eyes were sealed, and I had no major weak spots outside my wings. I was going to try and keep this on the ground and hope he didn’t target them.

  A robotic voice sounded. Cricket was holding up one of those throat microphone things. She called out loudly: “Ready. Set. FIGHT!”

  Just like that, it was on. I locked in my focus on him, tracking everything he did with eight independent eyes. We circled like two housecats, throwing clawed swipes at each other from range. I had more than he did, and my claws were bigger. But my big claws weren’t sharp, and aside from ripping some chains and plates off him, they didn’t seem to do too much. And he regrew the parts I ripped off.

  His attacks were met with similar results. His claws were like curved swords, and when they hit and sliced across my fists and forearms, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard, but ten times louder. All the observers clapped their hands over their ears. Where his hooks and blades found my soft armor, they failed to find any purchase at all, slipping off with metallic hissing.

  I was holding back. I think he was, too. It was a smart way of doing things. Get a feel first, then lay in when you find an advantage.

  He made a big move. He reared up and leapt forwards in a multi-ton pounce. I reached out, catching him off-guard with my speed, planted one huge hand on his muzzle, dug my claws in, and yanked it down. He flipped over and landed on his back, sounding like someone threw a box of forks across asphalt. He slid and crashed into–and through–a brick wall.

  First blood for me. He came back out, and this time he wasn’t holding back at all. We closed into a melee, and things went to shit, fast.

  It was like watching two vehicle-sized big cats locked in a death match: biting, clawing, thrashing across the ruins in a blur of muscle and steel. Except it wasn’t cats. It was two Changer parahumans. A giant rolling ball of screeching, screaming, and roaring. Smashing into ruined buildings and throwing one another through walls. Throwing dumpsters, light poles, and burned-out cars like toys. All hooks and knives, claws and armor.

  We broke apart, both of us bleeding and wrecked. I’d torn off one of his front legs, his chain ‘tail,’ and a huge swathe of the metal plating across his back. He’d managed to pierce my soft armor in a dozen places, and I was bleeding heavily. Two of my wings were snapped off. The rest were tattered shreds. One of my eyes was shattered, and my mask was gouged—ragged where I caught a flying concrete jersey barrier to the face.

  I didn’t want to press back in again. He’d been targeting the holes he’d made in me, shoving blades and all sorts of other nasty bits in the wounds like blenders. I was oozing and gushing black tar in different places. Similarly, he wasn’t doing so hot himself, down two major limbs and a lot of his protective covering for his inner body.

  But I had to press on. I was bleeding. Bleeding meant I was on the clock. Playing the long game gave him the victory. No room to be clever. This was going to be a knock-down, endurance fight.

  The two E88 members and the Undersiders were keeping a safe distance, but watching the fight. Eagerness shone in their eyes for their respective fighters.

  I charged. He came in, too. I caught him by the muzzle again, and this time I grabbed with a second big hand and heaved. I ripped his lower jaw and throat out entirely, and flung it across the street to smash into a wrecked car.

  I opened my mouth and roared straight into his half-head. Straight into his eyes. Trying to rattle him. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he took a harpoon-tipped heavy chain and speared me straight through the tongue and lower jaw. Anger turned to agony. I slammed my jaws shut full force and bit clean through his chain. That got his attention. Hopping back, I pulled the barbed end protruding through the bottom of my face out, tossed it to the side, and spat shattered chain links into the street.

  I think he laughed. It sounded like someone dropping rocks in a blender. I grinned right back at him. I had an idea, but I had to buy time. And that was one resource I didn’t have an excess of at the moment. He came back at me. If he wanted to play dirty, I’d play with the same book.

  I started a change. A big one. It drained my already low energy reserves and slowed me to a crawl.

  One shot. One chance. If this doesn’t drop him, I’m done.

  He charged and tackled me just as I faltered. I let him get his face right up in mine as we were wrestling. He was digging deeper into my right side by my ribcage. Fuck did it hurt. But it got me into position. I sucked in a breath, cracked my jaw open just a bit, and spat a mouthful of sticky, tarry blood straight into his eyes. He flipped off me, fell onto his back, and started clawing at his face.

  It wasn’t just that it was nasty, goopy shit. It was also hot because I was. Metallic screeching sounded out. I staggered and fell to one knee as my change was completed. Big winding, coiled organs filling my chest and running the length of my tail.

  I fell onto my hands as I gasped for lungfuls of air as I charged inside. My vision swam. I knew I was teetering right on the brink of passing out.

  Fully charged.

  Let’s see how you like this, you big grounding rod fuck.

  My tail whipped around, claws formed into a spear point, and I drove it deep into his chest. Then I fried him like bacon on a hot grill, dumping raw bio-electricity into him. He got on all three legs and tried to crawl away. He started glowing from the inside out, smoke rising from his joints, the air filled with the stink of burning oil and melted tires. I crawled after him like this was a crippled beast relay race.

  With an increasingly loud buzzing hum, his midsection liquefied, ropes of molten metal sloughing off to light the pavement on fire. He collapsed onto his chest, pawing forward.

  “Succhmich!” I tried to say, mouth mangled, tongue barely holding together. I sprayed black blood everywhere, trying to speak.

  He rolled onto his back, exposing himself, and held his paw up in the air.

  I cut the current. Good timing. It was seconds from burning out anyway.

  Stormtiger and Cricket rushed in as his blades retracted, and he shrank down. They pulled him away from the molten metal and burning pavement.

  I looked at both of them.

  “Whochh necck?”

  They shook their heads, hoisted the big, hairy man between their shoulders, and took off.

  I watched them leave, trying not to let my limbs shake too much. When they were out of sight, I collapsed onto my belly on the pavement. I released the change in my tail and felt a slight flicker of energy return. The long slits in my back opened up, and I started breathing through them rapidly. Each exhale brought a thick cloud of steam.

  My power was going crazy in my head. A tremendous storm. Maybe it was my exhausted brain misfiring, but I swore it felt almost elated. I queued it up to start stemming my bleeding so I could get somewhere safe to sleep and heal. My wounds, already burning wickedly, flared hotter for a second before beginning to cool. I think the bleeding was stopped, at least.

  The Undersiders trotted over to me. Taylor reached out and touched the massive gash in my mask. I couldn’t feel her fingertips, but her hand came back with powdery dust on the fingertips. Concrete and whatever my hard armor was made out of. I was lucky my head was angled and sloped like it was. That concrete and rebar beam could have taken my head off otherwise.

  I was honestly surprised that I hadn’t been knocked out.

  I hadn’t even felt woozy or light-headed after taking an impact that would’ve turned a normal person’s brain into pudding.

  Huh.

  The fight is over. No victory lap. No crowd.

  Just blood, pain, and people I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted.

  “Soo…” Lisa spoke first. “...you know the tongue piercing in high school is really cliche, right?”

  “Fuchh yuu Reesa,” I managed, and she laughed.

  “Are you… going to survive? Do you need to change back?” Grue asked me.

  “Ahhl bech fech. Nee rayer. Sweech.”

  Grue just stood there, head canted to one side.

  “She said she’ll be fine, needs to go to the lair and sleep,” Lisa translated. I pointed a claw at her.

  He nodded. “Give me a moment, I’ll smoke us up for the trip over there.”

  His smoke poured from his mask like ink from a broken bottle, and I slowly got to my feet. This was going to be an all-fours trip, no question.

  I could have changed back to Morgan, then reverted back to Apex. I think that would have healed me. But it was even more energy when I was already running on empty. And I’d pass out hard either way. I figured I’d just save the time, get back faster, and get my body’s self-repair going.

  We made it to the Undersiders’ lair easily enough, even if it took longer than usual. Taylor and Lisa split off to grab the bags from earlier. I followed Grue and Bitch back. He undid the bay doors, and I walked inside and collapsed immediately onto my belly. I’d opened up a few new bleeds on the way over, but nothing serious. I was hungry, but sleep was the higher priority.

  “Can I get you anything? A uh, whole bottle of painkillers, maybe?”

  I lifted my head enough to speak and said: “Fichhy pouchs ack meaa.”

  He shook his head a little. “Did you say ‘fifty pounds of meat?’”

  I am really hungry.

  I smeared ‘75 plz, cheap, try frzn fish bgs r ask 4 meat gone bad’ onto the dust on the floor.

  He nodded slowly. “You eat that? Okay. Price isn’t a problem, you know.”

  I reached out a claw and tapped ‘cheap’, and he shrugged. “Okay. You got it. Rest up some.”

  He headed for the staircase. “And Apex? I owe you for that. I won’t forget it.”

  I gave him a thumbs-up, set an alarm on my phones for six hours, and then two for tomorrow at 11 am.

  Then I passed the hell out.