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Authors: Unknown Author
Tags: greg cox
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gift.”
Mary was baffled by his sacrifice. “Why?”
“I have lived long enough with the burden,” he said acidly. “Over three millennia, to be exact.” He looked accusingly at Mary. “Besides, this is what you wanted, is it not?”
I guess so, Mary thought. It was hard to see a downside to Adam transferring all his powers to her. She certainly deserved them more.
Turning his back on her, Teth-Adam staggered toward the exit. Mary experienced a moment of anxiety as he moved to leave her behind in the ruined consulate. Smoke rose from the cremated remains of his victims, which had been reduced to ashes by the sizzling lightning bolt. She could still feel the wild magic surging inside her, changing her. Competing voices jostled for attention at the back of her mind. “Teth-Adam?” she called out hesitantly, uncertain what exactly this new power meant. “I... What can I do?” ^
Framed in the doorway, he glanced back over his shoulder. A rueful expression came over his haggard countenance. “If you see your brother,” he said, with what might have been a touch of remorse, “tell him... I’m sorry.” Huh ? Mary thought. What does he mean by that?
33 AND CODNTING.
28 AND COUNTING.
25 AND COUNTING.
23 AND GODNTING.
21 AND COUNTING.
18 AND COUNTING.
16 AND CODNTBNG.
12 AND C0DNTIN6.
9 AND COUNTING.
4 Jteis COimTHUG.
33 AND CODNTING.
METROPOLIS.
Holly Robinson trudged through the Greyhound Bus Station, doing her best to keep a low profile. To her relief, none of the other travelers making their way across the crowded terminal appeared to be paying any attention to the inconspicuous young woman wearing an open army-surplus jacket over jeans and a Hello Kitty T-shirt. A hunting cap was clamped tightly onto her head, the visor and earflaps helping to conceal her gamine features. Mirrored sunglasses hid her tired blue eyes. Her short red hair was now dyed a mousy shade of brown. A battered canvas travel bag, containing all that remained of her worldly possessions, was slung over her shoulder. Scuffed black boots carried her through the station, which felt oppressively warm. Overdressed for the temperature, she sweated beneath her thick jacket. Her butt ached from the two-hour bus ride from Gotham City. A pair of cheap wool gloves kept her fingerprints to herself.
Welcome to the Big Apricot, she thought.
A newsstand displayed a variety of daily papers. Holly paused to glance over the headlines. “EVEN GODS DIE!” proclaimed the front page of the Daily Planet, above a black-and-white photo of Superman bearing the lifeless body of some costumed alien named Lightray, but it was today’s edition of the Gotham Gazette that made her heart miss a beat. “COP KILLER STILL AT LARGE!” her hometown newspaper lamented, above an unflattering mug shot of one Holly Robinson.
Oh, crap! She resisted the urge to flip the topmost paper over and instead crept furtively away from the newsstand, keeping her head low. Her finger pressed the shades farther up her nose, just to make sure they stayed in place. Spotting a bored-looking cop standing guard over the station, she took the long way around to avoid him. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. There were way too many copies of the Gazette floating around the station. At any moment she expected someone to look up from their paper and shout, “There she is! The cop killer!”
In fact, the truth was far more complicated. Not so long ago, Holly had prowled the East End of Gotham as Cat-woman, filling in for Selina Kyle, the original Catwoman, while Selina was on her own version of maternity leave. Holly was not nearly the femme fatale that Selina was, but she’d thought she filled Catwoman’s black leather boots reasonably well, until a run-in with two sadistic Russian super-villains exposed her secret identity—and cost an unlucky cop his head. Holly had not been responsible for the detective’s grisly decapitation, but try
Mary was baffled by his sacrifice. “Why?”
“I have lived long enough with the burden,” he said acidly. “Over three millennia, to be exact.” He looked accusingly at Mary. “Besides, this is what you wanted, is it not?”
I guess so, Mary thought. It was hard to see a downside to Adam transferring all his powers to her. She certainly deserved them more.
Turning his back on her, Teth-Adam staggered toward the exit. Mary experienced a moment of anxiety as he moved to leave her behind in the ruined consulate. Smoke rose from the cremated remains of his victims, which had been reduced to ashes by the sizzling lightning bolt. She could still feel the wild magic surging inside her, changing her. Competing voices jostled for attention at the back of her mind. “Teth-Adam?” she called out hesitantly, uncertain what exactly this new power meant. “I... What can I do?” ^
Framed in the doorway, he glanced back over his shoulder. A rueful expression came over his haggard countenance. “If you see your brother,” he said, with what might have been a touch of remorse, “tell him... I’m sorry.” Huh ? Mary thought. What does he mean by that?
33 AND CODNTING.
28 AND COUNTING.
25 AND COUNTING.
23 AND GODNTING.
21 AND COUNTING.
18 AND COUNTING.
16 AND CODNTBNG.
12 AND C0DNTIN6.
9 AND COUNTING.
4 Jteis COimTHUG.
33 AND CODNTING.
METROPOLIS.
Holly Robinson trudged through the Greyhound Bus Station, doing her best to keep a low profile. To her relief, none of the other travelers making their way across the crowded terminal appeared to be paying any attention to the inconspicuous young woman wearing an open army-surplus jacket over jeans and a Hello Kitty T-shirt. A hunting cap was clamped tightly onto her head, the visor and earflaps helping to conceal her gamine features. Mirrored sunglasses hid her tired blue eyes. Her short red hair was now dyed a mousy shade of brown. A battered canvas travel bag, containing all that remained of her worldly possessions, was slung over her shoulder. Scuffed black boots carried her through the station, which felt oppressively warm. Overdressed for the temperature, she sweated beneath her thick jacket. Her butt ached from the two-hour bus ride from Gotham City. A pair of cheap wool gloves kept her fingerprints to herself.
Welcome to the Big Apricot, she thought.
A newsstand displayed a variety of daily papers. Holly paused to glance over the headlines. “EVEN GODS DIE!” proclaimed the front page of the Daily Planet, above a black-and-white photo of Superman bearing the lifeless body of some costumed alien named Lightray, but it was today’s edition of the Gotham Gazette that made her heart miss a beat. “COP KILLER STILL AT LARGE!” her hometown newspaper lamented, above an unflattering mug shot of one Holly Robinson.
Oh, crap! She resisted the urge to flip the topmost paper over and instead crept furtively away from the newsstand, keeping her head low. Her finger pressed the shades farther up her nose, just to make sure they stayed in place. Spotting a bored-looking cop standing guard over the station, she took the long way around to avoid him. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. There were way too many copies of the Gazette floating around the station. At any moment she expected someone to look up from their paper and shout, “There she is! The cop killer!”
In fact, the truth was far more complicated. Not so long ago, Holly had prowled the East End of Gotham as Cat-woman, filling in for Selina Kyle, the original Catwoman, while Selina was on her own version of maternity leave. Holly was not nearly the femme fatale that Selina was, but she’d thought she filled Catwoman’s black leather boots reasonably well, until a run-in with two sadistic Russian super-villains exposed her secret identity—and cost an unlucky cop his head. Holly had not been responsible for the detective’s grisly decapitation, but try
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