~18~
fundraiser for one of the many charities she supported. But now her eyes didn't suggest philanthropy, but burned with rage while her teeth were clenched in a fierce grimace. I quickly saw why. A figure in black leather dived toward her from above. Nightflier was a bat-bastard who had no qualms against hitting a lady. He knocked her from the cab door of the armored car and smack into a solid brick wall. Talon twisted and rolled, and where I expected a bone-crushing impact, she planted her feet on the wall, bellowed a primal scream, and leapt into the sky, wings spread like an avenging angel. I tracked her path, and at the speed she could fly, Nightflier didn't stand a chance as he flew away, especially with murderous retribution radiating from her expression. “Talon, stop!� I called after her, but she must not have heard me and disappeared into the night. None of this made any sense. Talon made a living as a civil rights lawyer and defense attorney. She fought in the courtroom, not on the streets. What was she doing in the middle of an armored car heist? Thunderstorm ripped the door from the armored car as easily as I'd pop the top on a can of beer, and with an almost casual flick of his arm, he sent the door whizzing like a Frisbee in an arc aimed at Hardball. He looked like a caveman, brutish and unkempt. His chest hairs protruded from a wife-beater shirt that stretched over a beer-barrel belly. Teeth bared, Hardball braced for the impact, and the door