Catwoman: Soulstealer (DC Icons #3)(47)

“?‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ by Queen,” Harley ordered the bandleader as the couple in front of her shed their jewelry like a snake with a second skin.

Ivy clicked her tongue, her toxins continuing to leak out and ensnare those before her. They handed over their jewelry without a blink of fear. “Good choice.”

Selina was inclined to agree. And hid her laugh as the band struck up the song immediately, the piano player missing the first few notes as his hands shook, but then settling into it. The singer was no Freddie Mercury, but what he lacked in range, he made up for with sheer bravado.

The audio receptors on her helmet gave Selina an update: two minutes until those cop cars got here. SWAT team, likely.

Harley was dancing to the music, braids swinging as she bounced through the crowd. Ivy was swaying along, too, that vine of hers slithering whenever someone seemed to notice her lack of gun and contemplate attacking.

“Playtime’s over,” Selina said to them, zipping up her bag. Two echoing zips sounded.

“Gimme a drumbeat,” Harley ordered the band.

And holy hell, the drummer gave it to her. Right as the band paused, the singer putting enough attitude into the lyrics that Selina finally laughed as she faced the enormous windows overlooking the street below and park beyond. She motioned the crowd back against the far wall.

Harley hurled one of those colored balls right at the window. A blink, flash, and then—

Glass slid to the floor, shattering into countless shards. Someone screamed.

The singer didn’t miss a single beat.

The band was enjoying it, Selina realized as Harley whistled and chucked one of those orbs to her. Catching it in one hand, Selina grinned and lobbed it at the chandelier in the center of the room. Perhaps the band was as sick of these rich pricks as Selina was. There was no way of faking that shredding guitar solo, not faltering as the chandelier came crashing down. Blocking access to the open window as Selina broke into a run, Harley and Ivy already a few steps ahead.

The two launched out the window, people screeching over the music and crashing glass.

As Selina reached the window, the main doors blew open again.

Batwing appeared between them, glowing like he’d been freshly forged, arm raised to fire some weapon from his suit.

Selina leapt out the open window, twisting as she fell. Turning back midair to meet Batwing’s gaze from across the room.

And give him the finger with both hands.

Free fall sang to her for two heartbeats before she hit the awning below, bouncing up to catch the hotel flag jutting out a few feet away. She wrapped her legs around it, slithering down. Right into the convertible where Harley and Ivy were already waiting, duffels overflowing with jewels. Right into the driver’s seat.

Batwing reached the window as Selina punched the ignition, popped the clutch, and floored the gas pedal. His roared curse was sure to make some well-bred ladies behind him faint as Selina, Harley, and Ivy sped off in Luke Fox’s Porsche.





They’d gone too far.

He didn’t care about his car, top down and parked out front all night, keys left in it by the valet. No, that was the least of his concerns when people had been outright robbed and terrified. It didn’t matter what level of society these people existed in, or whether or not they could afford to replace their valuables. This sort of thing could not, would not happen on his watch.

Luke glanced behind him to the panicked, stunned people still in the ballroom, the band that was now making a quick, guilty exit.

He said to the room, to anyone listening, “I’m on this.”

“She took my diamonds!” a woman shrieked, pale face livid. “Get them now!”

Luke reined in the urge to roll his eyes, reminding himself that he was doing this to protect all of Gotham City as he launched himself out the broken window.

He’d haul all three of them into the GCPD precinct.

Starting with Catwoman.



* * *



—

Selina hit sixty, seventy, eighty, the car opening up beautifully as they cruised through Robinson Park’s empty, curving road.

Her roaring blood was a song inside her, sweet as the warm night air around them.

No rules. No barriers. Nothing to hold them back.

Selina leaned into the feeling, savoring it.

Harley was cackling, draping herself in pearls and bracelets, and throwing a few over Ivy’s head.

Behind them, red and blue lit up the night sky. Selina pushed the car faster, the engine a velvety purr rumbling through the trees.

They rounded a curve, Ivy oomphing as Harley slid into her, jewels and pearls clacking against each other. Selina checked the rearview mirror, assessing those sirens and how close their lights were in pursuit.

A black shadow cut across the sky.

“We’ve got a bat on our tail,” Selina called to them.

Harley and Ivy fell silent, whirling around in the back seat.

Harley swore, scrambling for her bandolier of explosives as Batwing soared toward them with his wings—bat wings—spread wide.

“Creative,” Ivy muttered, that long, deadly vine at her hip now dangling from her hand.

“His suit is reinforced armor,” Selina shouted. “Go for the wings.” The retractable, mechanical wings that allowed him to glide long distances.

A gamble to order them to shoot him down, but telling the women don’t kill him would involve too many explanations and questions.