Shades of Gray by Jackie Kessler Page B

responding hero must …”
    Bradford stepped closer to her, and her voice trailed off. His smile really was devastating. His eyes too. They were pale and bored into you like a diamond drill. Lit from within by his gaze, Valerie finally realized why citizens and news feeds loved Lester so much. He always looked like he was having fun.
    “I haven’t commed in. For all they know, Neutron beat me about the head and you flew to my rescue like a shining princess in armor.” He brushed the back of one gloved hand down Valerie’s cheek. “Would you? Rescue me?”
    “I …” Valerie stopped talking when the warehouse behind them vibrated, bending inward with an ominous groan. She felt a tug deep in her gut, as if the entire world had just jerked sideways.
    Lester glanced toward the structure. “Bollocks. He’s creating another vortex.”
    Valerie felt her blood race, warming all of the exposed parts of her. “We need to hurry the hell up and collar him, then.”
    “Well?” Lester demanded. “Do you want point, or shall I swoop in and dazzle the city like I’ve done a dozen times before? I favor your lead. Dazzling is rather humdrum when you’re as handsome, charming, and intelligent as me.”
    This close to him, Valerie felt a reckless part of herself that she rarely allowed off the leash break loose. Luster in real life was nothing like Luster in the vids or the briefing room at Squadron HQ. Here, he was relaxed. Funny, even.
    She smiled at Luster and squared her shoulders. “I’ll take him down. Call Night and Blackout for backup.”
    Lester snapped her a salute. “As you say. And Vixen?”
    Valerie turned back as she started toward the warehouse. “Yes, Luster?”
    “You look absolutely stunning in that outfit.”

CHAPTER 8
    ANGELICA
Aaron still insists that Angelica should be classified as a Mental power, not as a Light power. Frankly, I think he just wants the excuse to study her in every way possible. I’ve never understood his taste in women.
—From the journal of Martin Moore, entry #7
    H olly Owens pivoted to look over her shoulder, flouncing her long, blond hair and billowing her white cape. She gave the cameras a wry smile—one that she knew suggested humor and (according to Branding stats) sexual prowess. Lights flashed and popped, and if she hadn’t been a Light power, she would have been momentarily blinded. But Holly loved the spotlight. Always had. It was a necessity if you were a superhero.
    “Brilliant, love,” the Glamique rep cooed. “You look delectable. A little more with the lips, please.”
    Of course—had to show off the latest lip color. “Mulberry Mischief,” it was called. Holly always read the names on the sample tubes she was given as freebies during her photo shoots for the cosmetics maker. She got a kick out of some of the product names—“Razzle Dazzle” eye shadow, “Ghostly Blush” foundation and matching powder; “Lay It On Thick” mascara. Some Squadron soldiers got the shaft when it came to mandatory sponsorships, but not Holly Owens, code name Angelica. She’d scored big when Glamique Holdings had selected her during her fourth year at the Academy.
    “Like that, love. Yes, perfect! That’ll have the ladies scrambling to buy Number 601 like mad.”
    “Angelica,” Jamie said, tapping his handheld. “You’re supposed to join Vixen for patrol in five minutes.”
    The Glamique rep squawked, “Absolutely not! We’ve scheduled you for the next two and a half hours.”
    “Sir,” Jamie said politely, “I’m afraid Angelica must fulfill her duties to the Squadron and the people of New Chicago …”
    “She must also fulfill her duties to her corporate sponsor.” The rep sniffed, looking down at the Runner. “Unless Angelica would prefer that Glamique cancel its contract with Corp-Co, I suggest that you remember which of her duties are a priority. There are a million other little superheroes flitting about this city of ours. Get one of them to do the