Grace had to fight to avoid losing Jasper in the crowd. She followed her into the bathroom and found her standing in front of the mirror, hands on the sink.
“Jasper?” Grace waved her hand next to Jasper’s face. “Are you okay?”
“We should go,” Jasper said. Her eyes were fixed on her reflection in a blank stare. “Cutthroat’s not giving us anything.” White-knuckled hands tightened around the edge of the sink. Cracks appeared.
“Is—” Grace’s head was finally clearing. Freeing itself from the chaotic buzz it had picked up during their run through the streets. “Do you—know Tyrso?”
“How would I know him?”
“I don’t know!” Grace exclaimed. “How would you know about a shack in the middle of the desert? Or about spacetime warps that freak out Cutthroat? Maybe you don’t want to tell me about your past, but—”
“You’re fine,” Jasper muttered to herself. The cracks in the sink lengthened. “You can handle an old man. You can handle him. All of them.” She sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the dagger she’d dropped into the sink. She flipped it once. “Let’s make Cutthroat talk.”
Grace grimaced. “Do you want to go? Maybe we should go.” Why had she insisted on following the pirate when Jasper suggested they head back to the shack?
“Nah. Let’s do this.” Jasper cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders, and took another deep breath. The pink lines on the motorcycle suit lit up under her coat, and the press of a button on the dagger’s handle made it do the same. She stormed out of the bathroom.
Grace caught up as Jasper reentered the dance floor. Jasper twirled the dagger in one hand and drew a gun from her coat with the other. She pointed the gun at the ceiling. Fired twice. “Everyone out of my way!”
People screamed and scattered. The bar cleared out quickly, leaving Cutthroat alone to laugh. He sipped from his glass and set it down. “Back so soon, Van Terra?”
Jasper tossed the gun aside. With one hand, she grabbed Cutthroat’s arm and threw him onto the counter. With the other, she pointed the dagger at his face. “Third time’s the charm.”
“You are stronger than you look,” he admitted.
“What do you know about the spacetime warps?”
“You’ll have to do better than that. I’ve seen my share of violent threats.”
“Okay.” Jasper stuck the dagger through his coat, pinning him to the counter and putting a new fracture in its surface. She waved to the bartender cowering on the other side. “Two splash and Coras, please.”
“I don’t want one,” Grace said. She’d stopped a few feet from where Jasper now had Cutthroat in her gasp, and she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.
“They’re both for me.” Jasper cracked her knuckles. “You heard of the Lion’s Den, Cutthroat?”
“Of course I have,” Cutthroat answered. He shot the dagger in his coat an annoyed glance.
Grace slid onto the nearest stool, the energy she’d gained earlier rapidly draining away.
“I was in it. For years.” Jasper’s smile was cold, her eyes were dark, and even Cutthroat was starting to look unnerved. “How old are you, again?”
Cutthroat huffed. “How is this relevant?”
“I’m guessing early forties? Late thirties?” Jasper drew another knife, a smaller one, and pressed it to his neck. “You’ve seen war? Violence?”
“Yes.”
“The depths of space?”
“You can push that blade in all you want. I’m used to pain.”
“I’m not torturing you for information. I know that won’t work.” Jasper’s head tipped to the left. “I’ve been out in the cold heart of space, too. I know what’s it like to be alone in the darkness, just you and your ship and an infinite fabric of stars in front of you.”
Grace shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“So much of that space is nothingness. Really makes you think.” Jasper leaned in. “Especially when you see things they didn’t warn you about. Rips in that fabric. A place where there’s nothing and something all at once. And you can feel it, right? That you shouldn’t be near it? You shouldn’t even be looking at it?”
“You have seen one,” Cutthroat breathed.
“It shouldn’t be alive.” The light was entirely gone from Jasper’s eyes. “It’s just an anomaly. A hole. But it pulls you in like it’s hungry.”
“You should stay away from them,” Cutthroat said. “I’ve seen strange things come out of them.”
Jasper paused. “Now we’re getting somewhere. You saw something come out?”
“All kinds of things. Blasts of energy. Strange particles. Dead things, not from any planet I’ve been to.” Cutthroat shook his head. “I’ve learned what readings mean they’re around. I used to be curious, but I keep my distance now, even if it means taking a longer route.”
Jasper pulled away from him. “You ever have anyone go in?”
“To a warp? Once.”
“You ever see them again?”
Cutthroat laughed. A cold, bitter laugh. “Pretty sure that’s impossible.”
“Don’t be so sure. Things go in, things come out…”
“Yeah, dead things,” Cutthroat said bluntly. “Whatever’s on the other side, I don’t think it’s survivable.” He sat up and rubbed the front of his neck, where Jasper’s blade had touched his skin. “No one should be going anywhere near those warps, if they can help it.”
“I agree,” Jasper told him. “Unfortunately, other people don’t feel the same.”
“Uh, two splash and Coras?” The bartender set the drinks on the counter with shaking hands.
“Great.” Jasper pointed her dagger at him. “Now hand me all the money in the cash box.” With her other hand, she downed the first glass.
“What’s happening over here?” South Siren asked as she approached. “Van Terra, what—?”
“Is there a problem?” Jasper snapped. “Can’t a villain rob a place in peace?”
South Siren held up her hands. “We usually don’t touch Atzy’s.”
“Well, I felt like it.” Jasper downed the second drink. “Now unless anyone wants to fight, I’m going.”
“You’re just going to show up, attack Cutthroat, and leave?”
“You a cop or something? Mind your business.” Jasper snatched the cash box from the bartender. “Is Tyrso still here?”
“He left,” South Siren replied, frowning.
“Well, if anyone sees him, tell him I’m ready to throw down.”
“You want to fight an old man?”
Jasper jumped up onto the counter. “I could take you all down. You’re lucky I don’t.” She tossed aside her glass and fished around in her pocket for something. The glass shattered against the floor. “You ready, Angel?”
“Ready to go?” Grace asked, eager to finally get back to the peace of the shack.
“Yeah. Screw this place.” Jasper held up a black sphere and pushed a button. She chucked it at the wall.
The wall exploded into a cloud of dust and debris. Grace flinched. Jasper stormed through the opening without hesitation.
Grace hurried after her into an alleyway. “What’s the money for?”
“I don’t know.” Jasper headed for the street.
“Are you okay?” Grace fell into step at Jasper’s right.
“Of course I’m okay! Why would you ask?” Jasper tossed the cash box on top of a dumpster. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Grace told her. “A little surprised by the explosion, but I’m good.” It really was exhaustion weighing down on her now, not terror. Even after being so close to agitated supervillains. The realization came with a small swell of pride, but Grace was too concerned with Jasper’s erratic behavior to dwell on it long.
“Sorry.” Jasper shook her head. “I wasn’t planning on doing any of that, but…” She glanced at Grace as she trailed off.
“As far as I can tell, you’re an invincible, unstoppable force,” Grace told her. “Except when it comes to spacetime warps and Tyrso Starr.”
“Well, I’m not really in the mood to tell you—”
“I’m not asking you to explain. I’m just…realizing there’s a lot more to you than I saw in the news.” Grace folded her arms and lowered her eyes to the pavement as she and Jasper reached the sidewalk. “I think there’s a lot less to me than what I was built up to be.”
Jasper laughed weakly. “Oh, that’s definitely not true.”
“What makes you say that?” Grace asked, eyes darting back up.
“Did you see yourself tonight?”
Grace felt a small smile touch her lips. “You know, parts of that were kind of fun.”
“Really?” Jasper asked. “I thought your idea of fun was much less illegal and dangerous.”
“I thought that too,” Grace said. “Before the governor tried to kill me.”
Jasper grinned. She seemed less shaky now, less pale, but still not quite back to her usual self. “Great. Maybe don’t mention it to the others. I’m sure they’ll blame me for making you more irresponsible.”
“I’m not saying it’s not your fault.”
“Oh, so you are going to blame me for your spiral into a life of crime?” Jasper asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Maybe just a little.”
Jasper tipped her head back to look at the sky. The city lights glinted off her eyes, and for a moment all Grace could think of was her and Cutthroat talking about the warps with that faraway look in their eyes. The dagger in Jasper’s shaking hands. The way the sink cracked in her grasp.
Grace was starting to wonder less about the terrible things Jasper had done, and more about the terrible things she’d seen.