“Biomass! Get up!”

  The words were further away than the ringing in her ears. Whatever scene was in front of her swayed at the end of a long, dark tunnel that was her vision. Footfalls shaking the ground. Bodies tumbling through the air. Shots firing.

  Why was that always her fucking luck?

  Two hands gripped Lauren’s shoulders. A warming, energizing feeling seeped into them and then spread through the rest of her body. It reached her head, and Lauren snapped to attention. She had landed against a wall, her head propped up at its base at a painful angle. Around and above her were the shiny, vaulted halls of the National Hero Memorial. It all started coming back to her. Lauren’s patrol had been called in for a disturbance. Not the New Lords this time. A real, adult, professional villain, whose minion had just punched Lauren clear across the room.

  Watchdog, aka Troy, helped Lauren to her feet. A white mask covered the bottom half of his face, lips and nose stretching the fabric that displayed a green cross. His head was bare, dreads pulled back tight against his scalp. His costume had a vest with supply pouches over a skintight undershirt and durable pants and boots.

  “Shit, I needed that,” Lauren said. She could still feel the warmth ebbing through her body, easing her sore muscles. But it wasn’t like a relaxer. Lauren’s mind and body both felt sharp and ready. Much faster than her own form of healing, though maybe not as deep.

  “Yeah, don’t get used to it,” Watchdog said. He led her by the arm around a corner where they could break line of sight and get some cover.

  The National Hero Memorial was a vaguely dome-shaped building with sloping windows forming most of the outside walls. The interior was open concept, with thin movable walls forming temporary rooms, sort of like an art gallery. More history of superheroes than Lauren had ever seen or imagined lined the space around them: old photographs and newsprints, pieces of costumes, chunks of artifacts. She wasn’t very focused on the actual contents. Moreso the intruders.

  She peeked her head around the corner to see how the others in her makeshift patrol team were doing.

  The rogue of the evening stood on the edge of the second floor that covered half of the ground-level floorspace, sort of like an extended shelf. Curio, he had bombastically introduced himself as. An older man with a fringe of hair surrounding his rather large head and only a dollop directly on top. He wore a red-vested suit and black outer jacket with a ridiculous extended collar that rose up to mid-face. A pair of round solid black glasses perched on his severe nose. One sleeve of his jacket was rolled up to make room for a bulky mechanical glove he wore on his hand, increasing the size of it threefold. The thing looked like a scrappy, rusty old prototype, but evidently was perfectly effective in controlling Curio’s muscle.

  Curio raised his arm, directing his puppet across the ground floor. The puppet in question being a twelve-foot tall black and chrome robot. It was vaguely shaped like a two-legged turtle, hunched with an armored round shell studded with rivets. A helmet-shaped head swiveled like a gun turret, a single mechanical eye scanning for threats. A heavy chain gun was built into its right forearm. It was kind of like if an old tank and gunship were scrapped for parts and reassembled into a walking killing machine.

  Lauren had been close enough to the robot where its only choice was to punch her across the room. Her teammates weren’t going to stay out of its crosshairs for long.

  Ingrid, or Silvermist as she was known in costume, kept mobile by teleporting around the room, each time leaving behind a witch-shaped outline of mist, including her broad and pointy hat. The robot had a hard time following her movements to line up a shot.

  Inner Demon, aka Jonas, was dressed in his costume that resembled a black ninja’s outfit with red horns poking from the forehead. He wielded a katana that glowed with red energy that trailed upwards from its tip. He rolled between the robot’s thick legs, blade slashing and seeming to leave glowing cuts. They did little to topple the guardian.

  “We gotta get back in there and help,” Lauren said.

  Watchdog grabbed her shoulder, holding her back for now.

  “I’ll go help keep up the distraction. You take down Curio and his other guards. Can you do that?”

  Lauren looked up at the supervillain. He had multiple other robots with him, these ones humanoid women in dark trenchcoats and hats wielding old-fashioned pistols. Some of their artificial skin had peeled away in strips, revealing aged mechanisms underneath. Only one guarded him now, as the rest were off plundering whatever prize they were after.

  “We got this!” Jonas called, narrowly avoiding a metal foot landing on him with a slide. “You take down the Nazi!”

  “I am not a Nazi!” Curio snarled. His voice was whiny and nasally.

  One of his other blonde-haired, blue-eyed robot bodyguards in a tight leather trenchcoat appeared at his side.

  “Mein Führer, Queen Beach’s costume is nearly in our possession.”

  Curio’s expression went from affronted to embarrassed. “Okay, I had to reprogram them a little to make them think I’m Hitler. But I am merely a collector of the historical and strange! I’m not into World War 2 for weird reasons!”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Nazi!” Silvermist cried boldly. She spread her arms wide above her, and a cloud appeared above the tank-robot. Thick paint in a rainbow of hues fell in droplets and splattered on the bot. It rotated its head, trying in vain to clear its ocular lens.

  With the large robot distracted, Lauren sprinted for the stairs to the upper level. Curio’s two bodyguards spotted her approach and began firing their pistols. Lauren stayed fast and low. Bullets whizzed by and popped into the wall or cracked windows. She concentrated solely on moving forwards. Her nerves didn’t falter. She was in combat mode in her head, the sense that came with her powers riding copilot. No distractions. No fear. Just adrenaline.

  Heading directly for them was going to be the much harder part of the gambit. Maybe Lauren could afford to take a small bullet or two by now.

  She reached the top level and turned to sprint directly at Curio. More shots flew by. Then one tagged her leg. A direct hit to the center of her right thigh. Lauren stumbled, but forced herself to keep her momentum. Her biology was her greatest strength. One little bullet wasn’t going to stop her.

  Their guns clicked empty a second before Lauren reached them. That would have come in handy earlier. Guns were tossed aside, and gloved fists came flying to meet her.

  The elderly bodyguard-droids were no slouches in hand-to-hand combat, unfortunately. They moved together in near-perfect synchronicity. Lauren was forced to step back and block their blows.

  “Aren’t they something?” Curio asked gleefully from behind them. “Built for the German chancellor himself. Never saw much combat, of course. Some natural degradation has occurred… some people really don’t know how to store a priceless piece of history…”

  A layer of thick bone finished forming over Lauren’s knuckles. She recklessly punched forwards, meeting a robotic fist with her own. Her strength won. The bodyguard’s hand crumpled, digits hanging from wires splaying uselessly.

  A fist from the other one hit Lauren’s eye, but she took it in stride. Her other hand came up, spikes dense and sharp, and rocketed for the face of the guard whose hand Lauren had just destroyed. Fake skin shredded as Lauren’s fist connected with the droid’s jaw. Metal crumpled underneath as its head yanked to the side.

  “Hey! Careful!” Curio demanded, incensed. “These are priceless collector’s items!”

  Lauren worked both her fists into the dented face, hoping to beat one down so she could focus on the other before more returned. A chop bounced off Lauren’s head. She grimaced, but didn't slow in smashing in the face of the guard in front of her. As she worked it more and more, fists pumping tirelessly in a way she wasn’t allowed to against a human, the guard fell to its knees and shuddered. Its head was a ruin of smashed metal and sparking circuitry. If it was an actually alive person, blood pouring out of a dented skull, Lauren might have been a little horrified at her brutal beatdown.

  An arm reached around Lauren’s neck and pulled her backwards off her feet. She had left the other guard alone too long. Now its robotic arm strangled her from behind. She tried to reach behind her and grab it, but didn’t have the leverage.

  Two more Nazi-bots wheeled forward a cart holding a glass case. Lauren could just barely see them from the bottom of her upturned vision. Encased in glass was a sparkling pink bikini with an iridescent veil surrounding it. Curio tapped his fingers together delightedly.

  “Queen Beach’s original outfit!” he reveled. “Only worn from 1960-1961. Perfectly preserved. I’ll have to get it slabbed and graded.”

  He looked at his emotionless guards that stood on either side of the case.

  “Or maybe I’ll break the seal and have one of you model it…”

  He gave a creepy giggle.

  Lauren had a high tolerance for going without air, but the arm strangling her was starting to wear her down. She felt blood pool in her face. Her thrashing limbs grew more desperate. She used claws to tear at the arm around her throat, shredding leather and artificial muscle but failing to break the reinforced metal bone underneath.

  Curio turned around and stalked over to Lauren. She could see her desperate face reflected in his opaque black glasses.

  “You little heroes aren’t even ripe…” he muttered. “Nothing of value to take from you yet. No legends. No victories. Not like the aftermath of Beacon City…”

  Lauren tried swiping at him. She was just an inch short of raking his face. He grinned. And then his grin faltered.

  “HIYAA!”

  Lauren could feel the slash happening directly behind her. The arm around her neck loosened. She immediately pulled it off her. The entire body had gone limp. She turned and saw why. Inner Demon had slashed the guard’s head in half diagonally down the center. Sparks shot from the two halves of the cleaved brain.

  Curio wheeled backwards, practically tripping over his own coat.

  “Take them down!” he screamed shrilly.

  Lauren and Inner Demon had a guard to handle each. Demon deflected a bullet with his glowing sword before it reached him. Lauren took another bullet to the shoulder. Her own body hardly let her feel it. She didn’t let her opponent get its stance up. With a fierce roar, she shoved apart its arms and went directly for its neck. Sharp claws dug in. With a human opponent, that would have been the kill. But Lauren dug in further. With great effort, she exerted her arms and ripped the robot’s head right off its neck, metal spine snapping and breaking off. The cranium went rolling across the floor as Lauren let the headless body fall.

  Inner Demon’s match was over before Lauren’s, the last guard a twitching heap of sliced pieces. They both turned to Curio. He held his hands up in surrender, an afraid smile twitching his lips.

  “Okay children, let’s calm down and handle things gently from here on out. You don’t hurt me, I’ll deactivate the kriegbot…”

  The larger war machine could still be heard crashing around blindly downstairs. Hopefully Ingrid and Troy were doing alright containing it.

  “Nah, I think we’ll handle that part,” Lauren said. She came forward and pulled the mechanical glove off Curio’s hand.

  “No!” he protested. “Not like that!”

  Lauren threw the glove backwards, and Jonas sliced it in half.

  Curio grabbed the sides of his head like he was about to rip out his remaining hair.

  “Oh, you stupid children!” he moaned. “Now we’re—”

  “BEERDIGUNGSPROTOKOLL AKTIVIERT.”

  The droning metallic voice came from below. At no point had the warbot talked before now. It sounded beyond ominous.

  Lauren and Jonas raced to the edge to see what was happening. The warbot had frozen its stomping around. It stood eerily still. Then, it raised its arm with the chain gun attached. At the same time, a slot in its bulky shell opened. A tank cannon extended from it and lowered over its shoulder.

  “TAKE COVER!” Lauren screamed.

  Troy dove behind a wall, and Ingrid disappeared into mist. The war bot swiveled at its waist, legs planted firmly. The chain gun spun up and fired a solid line of destruction. Shells littered the ground as everything the bot pointed at was blasted into powder. Walls crumbled. Statues of superheroes turned to dust above the waist. At the same time, the cannon on its back fired. Shells rocked through glass, detonating in orange explosions outside, or hitting closer and rocking the foundations of the building.

  All Lauren could do was hit the deck, cover her ears, and pray nothing hit her. The bot's ammo reserves seemed endless. It could keep firing until the whole building came down on top of them. The whine of destruction filled her head, drowning all thoughts save for survival.

  A black portal appeared directly in front of the barrel of the blind, rainbow-splattered robot’s cannon. Another portal appeared over its head at the same time. It fired its cannon again. The shell hit the portal, and the robot exploded.

  The last loud sound was the crash of the warbot’s body hitting the floor. Lauren tentatively raised her head. The machine was limp, with just a smoking crater where its head had been.

  Lauren panted. Her heart hammered in her chest.

  “Holy shit…”

  Edward Darkheart came walking in. He wore no mask and no costume, just nice clothes. Edward was team leader for C tonight. His team came in, looking for any danger. All that was there to find were the wrecks of robots, a very shaken up Team D, and Curio hiding in a corner.

  “Sorry it took us so long,” Edward apologized to Team D. “Busy night out there.”

  They stood and sat in the ruins of the National Hero Memorial. Curio was being taken away by an escort of heavily-armed police. The place was in absolute ruins. Small fires dotted the area. Bullet casings clinked with every step someone took. It was a miracle the structure itself was still standing.

  “Really?” Lauren felt a bit critical of that statement. “So busy out there it took you that long to come back us up?”

  She wasn’t team leader anymore. Hadn’t been since the museum. But Troy didn’t look in any position to argue, if he even wanted to. He sat with his arms on his knees against a broken statue. He looked practically green with nausea.

  Edward shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. A week of quiet, then everything goes off at once. It’s like every villain in this city coordinates. I don’t know if you heard, but some New Lords ambushed multiple teams tonight. They appear and disappear without us being ready to follow. It’s like they know where we’re going to be before we’re there. We just have to react to it.”

  “Yeah…” She wanted to blame his cousin, but Lauren knew Edward didn’t have anything to do with her machinations. Still, she couldn’t help but see a shadow of the girl quickly becoming her nemesis in his face. Lauren groaned as she stood from leaning against a column. Edward stepped forward to offer support, but Lauren waved him off.

  A voice came through their communicators.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Patrol is over for tonight. All students head back to campus before curfew.”

  “We should get out of here,” Troy said. He accepted Edward’s hand standing up. “This place isn’t safe anyways. I really hope they had insurance.”

  “Yeah, let’s go get patched up,” Edward agreed. He turned around and made a circling motion for his team to gather.

  “You guys go ahead,” Lauren said. “I’m gonna get some fresh air and walk this off.”

  “Walk it off— Lauren, you were just shot!” Troy balked. “The only reason we didn’t rush you back is because I stabilized you so you aren’t bleeding out.”

  Troy had given her another jolt of his healing power when the fighting was over, but it wasn’t as powerful and focusing as the first hit had been. Still, it helped.

  “I’ll be fine!” Lauen insisted. The wounds hurt, but only as much as a fresh bruise. Endorphins or whatever was responsible for pain relief must have been flooding through her system like crazy. She could already feel her muscles stitching back together and worrying the bullet shards out. She wanted some time to herself. She wanted a lot of time to herself ever since the museum, and knowing Hogan had truly given up on his search. Why, she still didn’t know. He didn’t even bother to lie to her. He had just kept his distance.

  She left through the front doors, down the steps and past the police tape that had just been set up. Flashing red and blue lights faded behind her. She kept walking with no particular destination in mind.

  They were somewhere in or around the International District, on the other side of downtown. An area Lauren hadn’t been around much yet. During patrol she got a sense of the place, its red lanterns hanging over streets from curving tiled roof flourishes. Exotic neon signs bounced their colors off street names written in English and other languages. The blocks here went up and down like static waves, everything seemingly built on a small hill. It was a maze of narrow alleys and tight buildings. Old men smoked and played games and argued with each other in the windows of storefronts and at small tables outside. The words may have been different, but Lauren knew the arguments were always the same. Younger men posted in the darkness between buildings sometimes leered at her as she passed. Not something unique to this district, she was sure. She almost wanted one of them to try something. Maybe the bloodstains she wore with indifference kept them just looking.

  The week had been a lonely and hopeless one. Other students were still recovering from the museum fight that Lauren had inadvertently dragged everyone into. No one really blamed her for it. They seemed glad if anything to be able to meet the main competition face to face. Well, no one blamed her except for Reagan. She had been on the receiving end of one of the worst beatings out of anyone. Part of her spine was injured. And she didn’t benefit from a faster metabolism like those with an ultra-gene did. So she was stuck in bed like a normal human. During the one time Lauren visited her teammate, mostly out of guilt, it was made clear whatever small connection they may have started on that rooftop was dead. Reagan wanted nothing to do with her failed team leader. Lauren didn’t blame her.

  Thoughts of running away were again creeping into Lauren’s mind. The headmaster claimed they could stop her, but she doubted they could if she really tried. Problem was, she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Hogan might not have believed Rachel was out here for whatever reason, but Lauren equally didn’t know where else she would be. Pacific City was still the largest and most opportunity-rich place she could think of. Other problem was, she cared too much about the people here. And they cared too much about her. A week in, she could have ripped the band aid off and jumped ship with temporary guilt. Over a month in, not so much. She couldn’t let Lucy or Adam or any of the others get killed by these vicious New Lords when she could make the difference. She wasn’t built to abandon anyone that she cared about.

  So she went where she was told and fought who was there to fight just to keep her friends alive another night. And when the fighting was done she walked along, stuck in torturous limbo.

  She passed the narrow darkness of yet another alley. A rustling sound came from somewhere within it.

  Lauren paused. It was probably just a raccoon or other scavenger sifting through a dumpster. But her enhanced senses coiled and leered at what they perceived to be a threat. Her senses were rarely wrong. Just a little overbearing sometimes. She stood at the entrance of the alley, looking for what it might be.

  A figure rose from the gloom clinging to the sides of the buildings. They stood to full height, a shape blocking the lights at the other end of the alley. Their form was indistinct, their head inhuman in shape. Two large, round ears at the top. Some kind of strange snout swung around as the figure regarded Lauren.

  A bone spike emerged from her sleeve.

  The figure stepped forward. A hand rose and removed the strange head, which turned out to be a mask.

  “Jeez. You’re eager to gut things, aren’t you?” Mara asked, stepping into view. A smile slashed across her streetbeaten face. She held a creepy paper-maché-like mask crudely made to resemble the face of a rat under her arm. The rest of her outfit consisted of layers of raggedy, torn brown and gray fabric that somehow came together to form a cohesive whole.

  “Hey,” Lauren said with relief. She found herself stepping forward and hugging her fellow street kid from the opposite coast.

  “Woah,” Mara said, but returned the hug with her free arm. “You didn’t strike me as a hugger.”

  “I’m not,” Lauren said as she stepped back. Something had suddenly come over her. A strange form of relief Lauren didn’t know she needed. Mara was one of the first people she connected with at Rosewell. The odd girl was never around very much outside of classes, if she even showed up to those. Maybe it was just good to see her around. Maybe Lauren felt an almost sisterly kinship with her, both of them having been through things no one else at school could relate to.

  “What are you doing lurking in an alley?” Lauren asked. She took another look at her outfit. “And what are you wearing? Did Rosewell give you that?”

  Mara scoffed. “No way. I’m not wearing their propaganda. I’m surprised you are.”

  Lauren found herself embarrassed that she was wearing her skintight outfit under her jacket. She wasn’t aware there was an option. Her street cred she didn’t know she cared about was going down the toilet.

  Mara gave a spin. “I designed this myself. Urban camouflage. Keeps the creeps on their toes.”

  “Keeps me on my toes too,” Lauren said. But the fit was impressive in its slightly stinky ingenuity.

  “As for why I’m out here,” Mara continued, “I wanted to come find you. My rats made it pretty easy.”

  An ember of hope dared to reignite in Lauren’s heart. There was no way Mara would be so casual if she had actually found Lauren’s sister. She knew how much it meant to her. Could it be some lead?

  “It’s not your sister,” Mara preempted with a look that knew Lauren would be disappointed. She was.

  “But… it’s something that might be helpful in the long run. If we get our hands dirty and put some effort into it.”

  That got Lauren curious. Mara turned around back to the alley, waving for Lauren to follow.

  “What is it?” Lauren asked, catching up to her.

  “No questions yet. Just trust me.”

  She led Lauren on a trek through several blocks. They snaked through alleys and side streets. Mara placed her creepy mask back on. Even when there were hooligans hanging around, they gave the two girls a wide berth. Smart of them.

  They stopped in the middle of an alley. Mara bent down. For what, Lauren didn’t know at first. Then she saw Mara was clearing debris away from an old sewer lid.

  “Help me lift this,” Mara said up to her.

  “Seriously?”

  “Just help me, strong girl! These things are a pain in the ass.”

  Lauren crouched down and lifted the lid, sliding it to the side. A dark hole opened between them. The top of a ladder could barely be seen.

  “You are not seriously having me climb in there,” Lauren said.

  “Oh, come on! Are the Malibu Dolls we go to school with rubbing off on you? You forgetting where you came from?” Mara taunted playfully.

  “For the record, I never climbed into a fucking sewer in my old life,” Lauren stated. “I don’t think my town even had a sewer to climb into.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Mara insisted. “I have a light. It’s not like there’s a river of shit down there. It’s just an old tunnel.”

  “There better be something worth it at the end of this tunnel…”

  “There is.” Mara took a flashlight from the back of her robes and clicked it on. She shimmied to start down the ladder. “C’mon.”

  Very reluctantly, Lauren followed. She stepped off the ladder into a wide access tunnel with a walkway on each side of a channel. The channel was dry, but smelled vaguely of waste. Lauren held a finger to her nose in disgust.

  Mara started walking in one of the directions, the beam of light bobbing in front of her. Lauren hurried to keep up. They walked for a while, taking corners that led to more sections of tunnels. Graffiti painted some stretches like ancient cave art. There wasn’t much else to see or hear but vague distant echoes. Lauren tried not to question her guide too much. She figured Mara had some way of keeping track of where they were and how to leave again.

  They reached a section of tunnel where the brick wall had collapsed away, revealing a more natural-looking tunnel perpendicular to the one they traveled. Mara headed into it without reservation.

  Lauren finally had to question what they were doing.

  “What is this?”

  “We’re traveling through the Warrens,” Mara explained. “Pacific City has a crazy history. In the 1900s, a huge earthquake sunk basically all the old city. They just built a new city on top of it. A lot of the old stuff was left abandoned underground. It’s like an entire time capsule that not many people even remember. Entire blocks left intact. Then they started building new sewers, and railway tunnels, access tunnels… it all kind of just melded together into a whole underground maze below most of the city. It’s called the Warrens by people who know.”

  “Your rats told you all of this?” Lauren asked. They passed through the natural stone section and came out into a larger tunnel. It looked kind of like what Lauren imagined a mine shaft looked like, with roughly shaped walls held up by support beams. This one was large, at least two stories tall. Old construction materials rested in undisturbed piles on either side of the path. Maybe the beginnings of an uncompleted rail system. They must have gradually sloped down for this to all fit underneath the street. Mara continued leading.

  “They led me to discover it. But they can’t tell me what this place is called, or it’s history or anything.”

  “So who did?”

  “We’re almost there.”

  They entered a narrow side path, the light shrinking ahead. Lauren actually had to turn sideways to shuffle forward as the gap narrowed even further. Tight spaces didn’t bother her. She kept telling herself that.

  The path finally let out, and surprisingly there was light on the other side independent of Mara’s flashlight. Lauren stumbled out. She took a moment to dust herself off. Then she noticed her surroundings.

  Just like Mara had said. An entire, old-fashioned street underground. They stood on a wide cobblestone walkway designed for carriages. The path they had taken was actually a crack between two buildings. The walls of the tunnel were all antiquated building fronts. Signs hung with names like Castor’s Apothecary and Diwyck General Goods. There were what looked like apartments or hotels too. Lining the street in regular intervals were old-fashioned electric streetlamps. They glowed inconsistently but provided plenty of light to see the area by.

  “Wow…” Lauren had never seen anything like it. She spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. The roofs of the buildings seemed to be holding up whatever material formed the ceiling, along with some strong metal supporting.

  “This is one of the few places with power. It’s called Bleak Street,” Mara said. “It’s a popular gathering for the Skells.”

  “The Skells…?”

  Even as Lauren asked, she could see them. They watched furtively from windows overlooking the street. Bright eyes in dark shadows. Heads that disappeared quickly upon notice.

  “Homeless,” Lauren answered herself.

  “Not just homeless like other cities have,” Mara said beside her. “It’s a whole society down here. Broken people. Scared people. Forced out of their homes, or victims of gang violence, or even victims of supervillains… people that have lost it all aboveground. Politicians like the mayor want to sweep them under the rug. And he has, in a way.”

  Mara glanced sideways at Lauren. “I figured you’d understand this better than anyone else at the school.”

  “I do,” Lauren said, looking at her. Mara had removed her mask again. “Hell, my sister and I probably would have ended up here if we ever made it to Pacific City on our own.”

  It was a sobering thought, realizing their youthful dreams of escape were probably doomed from the start.

  “But why bring me here?” Lauren asked.

  “Mara,” a voice called with familiarity. They turned.

  A man in his sixties or seventies stood in one of the doorways. He had a few moles on his face, and frizzy salt and pepper hair. He wore rough denim, worn-in shoes, and a colorful scarf around his neck. One of the Skells. Still, this man had an air of mature dignity about him. He approached, and Mara stepped forward to meet him.

  “Baxter,” Mara greeted. “Good to see you again. This is my friend I told you about.”

  Baxter took stock of Lauren with piercingly icy eyes. The man had a way of taking someone’s measure that Lauren could feel but not comprehend. It must come with age.

  “She looks much more a traditional hero than you,” Baxter said to Mara in his creaky voice. There was some judgement in it, but also some openness.

  “Trust me, Lauren understands the struggle,” Mara assured him. She turned back to Lauren. “Lauren, Baxter here’s kind of the mayor of Bleak Street.”

  “I keep the peace as best I can,” Baxter said humbly.

  “That’s nice of you,” Lauren said. “I’m guessing there’s some sort of problem?”

  “There is,” Mara said.

  “We’ve always been accustomed to some strangeness and danger living down here,” Baxter said. “Comes with taking shelter in the Warrens. But things have been getting worse lately.”

  “How so?” Lauren asked.

  Baxter moved his body slightly, like there was some rhythm only he could hear. It must have been an indecisive quirk. He seemed a quirky guy in general.

  “The areas we know are dangerous are getting more so. And they’re spreading. And to top it all off, there’s some kind of monster moving through the Warrens. Or multiple of them. Attacking without any warning. We’ve lost good people in the community.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Lauren said. She was sympathetic, but she didn’t know how she fit into all of this. Was Mara just wanting help with community service?

  Mara gripped her arm. “The Skells know the bottom levels of this city better than anyone else,” she said. “They know how things move. Who’s using their tunnels. They know the whole unseen underground element of the city.”

  Lauren knew what she was getting at. They could form a working relationship. Build some trust. Then they’d have access to all their intel. They might lead right to Dr. Smythe, or the ones hiding her, if she was still out there somewhere.

  “I can help,” Lauren said.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Baxter said with a smile and a nod. “If Mara vouches for you, you’re good in my book. And we’ll help you however we can.”

  Sounded like a good deal.

  “We need to be getting back, but we’ll start working on it soon,” Mara promised. “Keep your people close in the meantime.”

  “I plan on it,” Baxter said. He gave a casual salute. “Sorry your welcome was a bit empty, Lauren. People are skittish right now. But they’ll embrace you soon enough.”

  “It’s alright. Nice to meet you,” Lauren said. She waved as they left. She followed Mara back to the outside world. Hope was again daring to find purchase on her stony heart. Maybe she could find Rachel her own way. And maybe she could help some other unfortunate people along the way.

  They returned to campus fifteen minutes after curfew. A displeased administrator greeted them at the exit of the elevator.

  “Sorry. Train was running slow,” Lauren tried to blame.

  “No it wasn’t,” the operator said unhelpfully. He was onto a new paperback.

  The administrator let them go with a warning. Lauren had got a text from Lucy about a party happening at the school lounge. It wasn’t Mara’s scene, so they split ways. They promised to keep in touch.

  In the lounge, Maeve was behind the bar serving drinks. Almost everyone in a healthy enough state was sitting around, talking and drinking. What was the expression? Live fast, die young? The Rosewell students were taking their dangerous lifestyle seriously and partying whenever they could. Seeing them all together made Lauren’s heart a bit warmer in a way it hadn’t previously.

  Karaoke was set up on the stage. Much to Lauren’s surprise when she walked in, Harper was on stage giving an emotional performance of Forty Six & 2. Her singing voice was haunting.

  Lauren found her gang at a table near the overlook windows. She sat between Annabelle and Lucy. Annabelle was coiled around Adam’s arm. Adam had a thousand-yard stare that seemed worse than his usual sleeplessness. Thalia wasn’t at the table. Lauren spotted her standing at the bar. She had a different look, being dressed in leather pants, a tight V-neck, and brown cowgirl boots propped against the bar behind her. A tooth-lined hat sat at her elbow. Her hair was trimmed shorter.

  Adam couldn’t keep himself from glancing over at her for more than fifteen seconds at a time. Thalia kept her head pointed to the stage, or Lyra chatting beside her. Annabelle was clearly noticing where her boyfriend’s attention was. Lauren took in the whole situation silently.

  “You were gone an extra while,” Lucy said to Lauren. “Everything alright?”

  “Yeah. Fine. Just took a walk.” Lauren said. She kept the underground business to herself for now. Things might get messy with it, especially if it involved some sort of monster. Lucy had managed to avoid any serious danger up until now. For her part, Lauren wouldn’t be dragging anyone else into her problems. She had done enough damage.

  As she sat there, Lauren imagined Rachel sitting opposite her at the table. Smiling, drinking something, being more sociable than Lauren. Probably making everyone play a game of cards. Cards were Rachel’s favorite distraction. She had somehow learned all the two-person card games for her and Lauren to pass time. She’d have a lot more fun with more players. She’d involve dice too. Everyone would like her when she was finally around. Lauren would be just fine being the quieter, less decisive twin again. The thought made her heart ache. But it was good to remember.

  Harper finished her song. Everyone clapped, and a few people hooted cheers.

  As soon as the attention was off Harper, Grace clambered onto a tabletop. She yelled a request for some specific pop song. It started playing over the speakers, very quickly getting into some rather suggestive lyrics from the female singer. Grace started moving her body. She wore cutoff jeans that just barely covered more than a pair of panties. She threw off her coat, revealing her shirt to be a flannel crop top tied at the center of her chest.

  “C’mon boys!” Grace called to the crowd as she rolled her hips. “Who’s gonna be lucky enough to take this home tonight!”

  Vic the RA detached from the wall near the entrance.

  “Grace! I’m not sure that’s very appropriate school behavior!” Vic called with a nervous laugh.

  Grace gave two middle fingers in response and dropped her rear even lower. She became the focus of at least half the room’s attention.

  Lucy offered to grab Lauren a drink. Lauren requested a tall glass of blue PowerBurst with ice. Lucy skipped off to order it. While she was gone, Abigail strutted over. She craned her head over Adam’s shoulder.

  “Adam.”

  He jumped a little. Annabelle stared up at the hovering girl. If dull eyes could stare daggers, Annabelle certainly was.

  “Sorry to butt in. I just thought we should talk,” Abigail said. “About the thing yesterday. The important thing we found yesterday. The thing we found alone, together, in the basement.”

  “Yes, thank you!” Adam said, finally breaking his silence. “I know what you’re referring to. We’re going to wait until Monday.”

  “Well, it’s just very dangerous Adam,” Abigail said with overwrought concern. “I would be happy to return to the foundation and oversee things. I can work underneath you until this situation is contained. I have abilities and knowledge that are crucial to this—”

  “There are actually a lot of smart professional people already working for Adam,” Annabelle interjected. “And they know how to handle dangerous things, sooo…”

  Abigail gave the tightest, most condescending smile Lauren had ever seen.

  “You’re not really in the loop in this situation though, are you? It’s kind of a big deal requiring outside specialists, soooooo…”

  “Oh Adam keeps me in the loop on everything actually, soooooooo…"

  “AARGH!” Adam erupted upwards from his seat, unwinding Annabelle’s tight grip. “I need something for this fuckin’ migraine,” he muttered. He stomped off toward the door.

  Grace beckoned to Adam as he passed her tabletop dance floor.

  “Need another woman to complicate your life, Adam?” she teased seductively.

  “Absolutely not!”

  He was gone out the door.

  Annabelle swiveled to Abigail, still standing there.

  “You need to back off,” she warned.

  Abigail smirked. “Some things are more important than high-school infatuation. A man like Adam has many different needs he requires tending to. Many different roles he needs filled. But I’m willing to be magnanimous and share him, for the greater good.”

  “I’m not,” Annabelle growled.

  Abigail shrugged lightly. “I guess we’ll see who he finds more useful then. Shame it has to be a competition.” She bowed and twirled away.

  Annabelle deflated. Almost literally. Her expression drooped cartoonishly. Lauren had mostly felt awkward through the whole exchange, but now just felt kinda bad for her.

  Lucy returned, holding a large glass of electric blue liquid filled with ice.

  “Sorry, line was long,” she said, delivering it in front of Lauren. She looked between the two of them sitting there. “What did I miss?