much less aerodynamic than WonderGirl’s sleek, girlish physique. Raised in a super family, Darla never questioned her duty to the city, never doubted the need for good to triumph over evil.
But what if evil isn’t so evil?
“Did something happen between you and that Lyle? There’s the strangest quote—”
“Kyle,” she corrected absently. “Yeah, it’s over.”
“Oh, sweetie, are you okay?”
“What did she say?” her father demanded.
“She and that Kyle broke up,” her mother explained.
“Good. He was never good enough for her anyway.”
Darla smiled, comforted by those words from the only man whose arms had always been stronger than hers. Until Lucien. Her father never thought anyone she dated was good enough for his baby. What would he think of a man who wasn’t good at all? How would the villain, with his unexpected integrity, measure up?
Not that she could ever tell her parents about the kiss. There would never be anything between her and Lucien Wroth. If he knew what was good for him, she’d never set eyes on him again.
A heavy pounding shook the front door of her apartment. Darla flinched.
“Hang on a sec, Mom.”
It was probably a reporter. Unless some supervillain had sent her a bomb by UPS again. She shuffled over to the door with her mother chattering about press conferences and being visible in a positive way. At least she wasn’t still in her pajamas. Her ratty old jeans and threadbare T-shirt weren’t exactly DynaGirl couture, but they were a step up from answering the door at noon in her pajamas.
The knock came again, hard enough to make the frame shudder, and something in Darla’s chest tightened with anticipation. It couldn’t be…
It was.
Lucien Wroth, brooding demigod of the villain persuasion, stood in the hallway outside her apartment.
“We need to talk.”
“Darla? Baby? Is there someone there with you?”
Darla tried to speak, but her tongue suddenly felt three sizes too big. “Mom, I’ve, uh, I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you later. My love to Daddy.” She disconnected the call and tossed the phone onto the side table in her entry. Careful to keep her focus on Lucien Wroth’s midnight eyes so she didn’t betray her intentions, she slid her hand past the deadbolt, the open door blocking the movement from his view, and palmed the modified tranq gun she kept in a holster for hostile guests. “What are you doing here? I told you—”
“That you’d lock me up if I ever came near you again. I remember. This is important.” He swallowed thickly, looking uncertain for the first time since she’d met him. His eyes flicked toward her hidden hand and she tensed, ready to take his ass down if he even sneezed at superspeed. “I need your help.”
Darla blinked. Well that was unexpected.
Chapter Nine
Bad Pennies & Superhot Criminals
Please let her refrain from tasing my ass.
Her eyes gave nothing away, but she had a weapon behind that door, Lucien was sure of it. Probably aimed, cocked and on a hair-trigger.
He knew he was taking a chance, coming to Darla. She was the poster child for everything heroic and good, while he was barely staying out of a cell, but something had moved her to let him go the last time. He had to hope whatever soft spot she had for him was still feeling warm and squishy.
She was different from the other supers. He had to believe that because he was about to lay all his cards on the table and pray for the best—and he wasn’t a praying man.
“It’s my sister.”
Darla didn’t relax, but her tension shifted, becoming less defensive, more curious. “Mirage?”
Play on that curiosity. Use every weapon you have. “She went back to the guy who got her thrown into Area Nine in the first place. They have some plan. Something big. Real villainous shit.” Come on, Darla. I know you can’t resist a chance to go on a justice rampage. “I need to figure out what’s going down, and you have access I don’t. You can tell me
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