With regret, I had to reduce one character’s role – he was fun, but did not add enough to some scenes. He’ll show up more in later books in the series. However, here’s a snippet of a Super cut scene from the first draft. Be gentle.

Warned through their mental link, Wyn had the car ready to go when they piled in.

“My sword is crooked,” Jerome complained, plopping into the front passenger seat. His saber caught the light as he held it up to check it.

“Dude, things we don’t need to know,” Zita said. Leather stuck to her leg through one of the rips in her pants. She declined to think too much about the stupid grin sitting on her face.

Beside her in the cramped backseat of the Porsche, Andy concurred. “I’m with her on that one.” Being thrown through that window had not been kind to his clothing, and he tried to arrange the tatters to conceal more.

Wyn shrugged, both hands on the steering wheel. “Some women like that.” She giggled.

Opening her mouth and then closing it, Zita considered. “I suppose it depends on the angle.”

“The girls are on their own now.” Andy retreated, but not before poking her in the side. His question was silent. Am I flying us home?

A snort came from the front seat. “I meant my saber, perverts.” Jerome’s tone held the laughter his words lacked.

“You should clarify these things,” Wyn teased. “So did you get the notebook?”

His voice glum, Jerome answered first. “No. And I don’t know how much of the computer drive was wiped, but at least I had it deleting the medical files first, so hopefully those are gone.” The big man shifted position, and must have given up his examination of the weapon, as light no longer reflected off the blade.

I’ll get us back to my place once we’re clear of Jerome’s surveillance setup. Zita offered silently.

“It could have been worse,” the witch offered, “at least you destroyed the relevant data. If someone has the notebook, but no data, all they have are some names other sources would have given them anyway. The hospital conflagration destroyed enough that it might be sufficient to keep us from involuntary confinement.” Wyn changed lanes and took a merge onto the Beltway.

He let out a bark of amusement. “Oh, that doesn’t bother me. Plans are just wishful thinking. T-Bird, though, I’m disappointed in you, man. You need to bone up on what a real friend is.”

“What?” Andy asked. “What did I do?” He looked at Zita. OK, but I prefer flying, he sent mentally.

She shrugged. Then we’ll get you out to do that again soon.

The other man sulked, missing the silent byplay. “A real friend would’ve gotten me as soon as the chick fight started, especially once clothing started getting torn off.”