SD6

My knocks were slow and patient, and Marj answered after the fifth, peaking through the keyhole.

"What do you fucking want? It's my night off. I'm trying to get some shut eye. Oh shit. It's you…" Her voice softened immediately, and she spoke with some hesitation. "You shouldn't be here…or anywhere near Gotham for that matter."

"Why? You heard something?" I asked, and the door opened. Marj wore a robe, loose pants, and bunny flip-flops. She dragged me into her apartment and looked each way before the door shut.

"Didn't you hear? Someone working for Black Mask put a bounty on you. 10 grand to anyone who's seen you or Eddie."

Ah, shit. I'd expected a reaction, but not this.

He was serious.

The Narrows wasn't safe. Hell, most of Gotham wasn't safe. As far as they knew, I was out of town until tonight.

"Then I'm sorry for turning up here and putting you out like this," I said. "Call them after I leave. Tell them everything we talk about. Don't risk it."

"Didn't plan to," Marj said immediately, folding her arms. I blinked, again surprised by her brusqueness. But then again, I'd have done the same if I were in her shoes.

"Haven't heard from Sasha in a while. Do you know where she is?"

She adjusted her robe. "She took her brother's death hard. Crawled into an even deeper hole with that slimeball Tom. He came to collect her a few nights ago. The last anyone saw her was at Vinnie's."

My heart sank. Of course. How could I have not seen this coming? I massaged the bridge of my nose.

Marj looked at me for a time before she spoke. "Want my advice, Kid? Get out of town. I know you feel for her, I do too, but you can't help someone who doesn't want your help. You got your whole life ahead of you. Start fresh. You don't need the heat."

The cold, calculating part of me understood that she was, of course, right. But I also knew I'd never get a good night's rest if I didn't see this through.

"Thanks for the help, Marj." I nodded at her and then departed, taking the back door to her building.

My next stop was Vinnie's. I stole a bike off the corner and pedaled in the general direction of the club with my hoodie up, and my mind spinning.

Halfway to my destination, I came to an uncomfortable realization: I needed Artemis for recon.

Stepping into Vinnie's by myself was asking for trouble. It didn't matter that the club technically belonged to Penguin, Black Mask's arch-rival. He was likely to pawn me off for a favor, kill me to spite him, or use me if he ever found out what I could do.

Still, I was hesitant to send her into the lion's den. Artemis was no angel, but she lived where she lived for a reason. Her mom wasn't my biggest fan, and her father thought training me was a waste of her talents—his words directly.

This was going to make things a whole lot worse.

Yet, it had to happen.

I was tucked in an alleyway a few blocks from the club when I grabbed my Cell phone, but something caught my eye and stopped me before I dialed her number.

It was a well-dressed man drunkenly talking down a group of four trying to rob him of his car.

I snorted. He should've known better than to come into the Narrows dressed like that, driving a luxury car without protection. But the strange thing was, he looked unbothered by the thugs. I'd argue he was comfortable even.

He had scars in the form of tally marks like the type prisoners would cross out on walls to count time, but his tallies had nothing to do with time served. The man had bleach-white hair, a crooked nose, and a wiry and thin build. 

By all counts, he had the bearings of a man who could handle himself in a street fight, but I suppose skill didn't matter much when you're drunk and surrounded by four guys with no weapon in an empty parking lot.

"Come on," the man drawled, leaning into the side of his Sedan, "you're ruining my buzz. Used to be a man could get drunk in relative safety."

"Not with clothes and a car like that, you can't," the lead man laughed, cracking his knuckles.

"It's the only time that caped freak isn't trolling around looking for someone to punch," a lanky man holding a knife chimed in.

"Just make this easy on yourself and empty your pockets," the biggest of the group said. "You don't have to end up with a hole in your gut."

The man laughed. "I'd have to be black out drunk to lose to bottom feeders like you."

"Have it your way then," the first man snarled and stabbed at him. That turned out to be a mistake. As if on instinct, the man stepped to the left just before the knife made contact. His hand snapped around the wrist of the offender, and he twisted while lashing out with a kick to the second attacker. He ate a boot to the chin, putting him on his ass.

"Aaah!" The first man bellowed like he'd been the one kicked as his wrist snapped, and the knife slid out of his arms. The drunk man's demeanor transformed as soon as he touched the blade.

The grin on his face was chilling.

He swiped, slicing up the face of the biggest of them before moving to the third thug, who charged him and tried to stab him in the gut. He stepped back in time while the fourth man seemed to be rooting in his back trousers for something. As soon as I saw the silver flash, I knew it was a gun.

The stone was already in the air before I realized I'd thrown it. It bonked the potential gunner in the head, and he spun around, eyes wide when they met mine. He was a balding thirty-something with a tank top on, dirty jeans, and bags under his eyes.

"You little shit!" He aimed and let a rip. I juked, but not in time. Inverse flashed on just before I stepped back into the alley, and a bullet bounced off my side.

Fuck. I breathed. One second slower, and I'd been dealing with a collapsing lung.

"I know I winged you, boy. Stay nice and still, and I won't have to drag your dead body to Black Mask when I collect your bounty."

Of course, he knew. My luck. But then again, wasn't this what I trained for? There was a way through this. I just had to be innovative.

"Alright," I called over. "I like breathing."

He grinned. "Everybody's a hero until there's a gun involved," he laughed, and I peeked over the corner. The drunk man was sloppier than when the fight started, but he was holding his own against three of them well enough, mostly with threats by swiping his knife.

"Let me see your hands," the gunman yelled as they paced right over, and I obliged, throwing one hand up.

"Show me the other hand, or I shoot."

"I can't," I called back. "You got me in the side."

"Don't try to be smart, and I won't have to shoot you."

He hurried up, rounding the corner, and took a Cursed Energy-infused brass knuckle to the chest. He dropped with a wheeze and aimed at me. The bullet fired, and Inverse flashed on. The bullet slid off my forearm, and I stomped him into the ground with a kick, reducing him to a coughing, scrambling mess. I kicked his gun away the first chance I got.

He looked up at me, surprised. It was the last thing he saw before my enhanced fist slapped into his jaw, bouncing his head off the sidewalk.

"Jeb!" someone screamed. I looked up and immediately saw the biggest of the bunch running straight at me.

"Oh hell." I stuck my hand behind me and produced a bat, filling her with energy as I took several cautionary steps back.