Catwoman: Soulstealer (DC Icons #3)(37)

Selina snickered. “Priorities.”

She quietly shut the metal door as they stepped into the alley behind the behemoth store, the street in the heart of the shopping district near-silent on either end.

Ivy lifted a brow at the shut door. “You going to leave a calling card, or should I?”

Selina flicked out the claws on her glove.

Screeching metal and two slashes of her nails down the back door was her only answer. Claw marks.

Ivy studied Selina’s handiwork. “Simple but efficient.”

Selina sheathed her claws. Motion down the alley triggered her helmet’s warning system, and she whirled—

Night-bright eyes, silent feet, an upright tail came into view around a sagging cardboard box. Ivy followed Selina’s line of vision and snorted. “Relative of yours?”

Selina smiled beneath her helmet and crouched as the small alley cat approached, her gray coat blending into the shadows. Selina extended a gloved hand, and the cat sniffed at it, whiskers twitching.

“You’re too thin, friend,” she told the cat, ignoring Ivy’s question, and scratched the cat under her little chin.

“I feel like I should be taking photos of this,” Ivy said.

The cat pulled her face away, and Selina ran a hand down her slender spine, the cat arching into the touch. “I thought you loved animals.”

“I do,” Ivy said. “But I didn’t expect you to.”

The cat, satisfied by the attention, scampered off into the alley. Selina rose, watching the cat disappear into the darkness. “I always wanted a pet. Never had one.”

“Why?”

She couldn’t answer that. Not when it required explaining so much. Too much. Secrecy was vital, another weapon. Even among allies. “I moved around a lot. Was never settled enough to get one.”

Not entirely a lie. But she’d had her hands full those years, and a pet, no matter how much Maggie had pleaded for a cat, was another mouth to feed. Vet bills could add up. It hadn’t been responsible to get a pet. Still wasn’t.

“We should go,” Selina said, scanning the dark skies above. “I disabled the alarms, but someone might spot us.”

Ivy pointed a thumb over her shoulder, down the alley. “I’m that way.”

Selina lied and pointed with her chin in the other direction. “I’m that way.”

Ivy nodded once. “How do I get in touch with you?”

“You’ve been stalking me for two nights. Seems like you have no problem finding me.”

Ivy laughed again. “Use this number to give me a heads-up on your next target.” She pulled a piece of paper from one of her bodysuit’s pockets. “It’s a burner phone, but I’ll have it for a few more days.”

Selina took the paper, gloves scratching. “Get Harley on board. Or don’t bother to show up.”

Ivy gave her a mocking salute and lifted her heavy bag. “Thanks for the payday.”

Selina didn’t leave until Ivy had vanished into the shadows, her steps fading away.

A long night ahead. And she was just getting started.





Seated in bed, bracing for another sleepless night, Luke stared at his phone like it was about to bite him.

Bruce: Everything all right over there?

He’d seen the headline. Bruce might be on a vital mission, but there was no way he wasn’t keeping tabs on his city. Their city.

Luke slid the phone over to himself, unplugging the charger, and typed back, Nothing to worry about.

He conveniently forgot to mention that tonight he’d found himself staring at two slash marks on a jewelry store door, the cache of money and jewels stolen. Wiped clean, except for some of the lesser-priced pieces. Someone with a discerning eye.

Or oversized lenses.

No one harmed, at least. But when the frantic store owner had seen the claw marks, he started shouting at him about why someone hadn’t put a leash on this Catwoman.

Bruce’s typing bubble popped up. Let me know if you need anything.

Luke wouldn’t. Not just because Bruce was on a mission but because he wanted to handle this on his own.

He typed back. Will do.

Luke debated asking how the mission was going, but…he and Bruce had never really engaged in small talk. Hadn’t been the sort of friends who watched a game together, though they certainly had shared a few drinks at various galas they were obligated to attend as sons of Gotham City.

Sometimes Luke felt as if they were both already old men. Weary and jaded and worn at the edges.

So Luke set down his phone, plugged it back in, and switched off the light.

The piece of art Catwoman had stolen was insured, but the fact that she’d not only evaded the trap he’d laid but had done it so publicly…He gritted his teeth.

He’d find another way to snare her. And learn who was beneath that helmet.



* * *



—

Selina bustled out of her apartment around eleven in the morning, as befitted someone with nothing to do with their time, the shopping bags dead weights in her hands. Considering that the shoe boxes stacked inside were full of cold, hard cash and jewelry, she was praying they didn’t break on her way to her safe-deposit box at the bank.

The door across the way opened. Selina debated turning right back around and pretending to be coming in, when Luke Fox appeared.