Phantom, Joker, and Bird prowl at my shoulder. Our coats swirl behind us, as like dark vengeance, we stalk down the pulsing scarlet corridor.
When guards yell and barrel toward us, Phantom and Joker raise their guns and shoot.
I don’t even slow.
I am done being controlled.
I am done being a prisoner.
I am done being hunted.
I tip my head back and howl.
The Rogues are clanking at the bars of their cells on either side of the corridor. They are yelling in excitement, rioting.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse Bird darting between the cells, pressing the gadgets to the locks.
The small explosions send smoke and orange sparks like fireworks pluming through the small space.
Devils, reveling in escaping hell, we swagger through the center of it all.
Bird encourages the Rogues free of their cells.
“Find somewhere safe,” I hear Bird say, “and wait for us. Please, trust us, we’re here to save every Rogue.”
I bare my teeth.
I swore that I would free these Rogues.
I’ve fucking done it.
When a muscled Alpha with a shaved head and tiny eyes, which are so dark that they look like they are black, hurls himself out of a cell and into me, he knocks me to the floor.
I glare into Greco’s enraged face.
He must have been disciplining a Rogue.
I’ve never been happy to see him before.
“I’ll fucking kill you.” Greco punches me across the jaw.
I don’t flinch.
Instead, I knee him in the balls and then the guts.
When he curls over to his knees, I straighten, gesturing at Greco to stand and fight me.
I wave at Phantom and Joker to stay back.
I need this fight.
Greco staggers to his feet. “Psycho, do you think that you can take me without your powers?”
“Obviously you don’t know my full reputation in the Adonis pack.”
He pales.
Maybe he does.