Izzy’s voice came over the comm, “I don’t see anyone dangerous. One man must have pulled out a rifle during the fight, but right now he’s putting it back into a locked cabinet.”

“Good,” Jaclyn didn’t hesitate. “Drop off Mr. Klein in the house and we’ll grab Shift to go help Travis. Night Cat says the Rocket and Bloodmaiden can stay here in case something goes wrong. Rocket, are you sure you don’t need medical attention?”

I found myself frowning inside my helmet, “Pretty sure. Alien tech says I’m not in imminent danger.”

“Okay,” The words came out of Jaclyn’s mouth the moment I finished, “then we’ve got to book. It’s bad.”

I was about to ask if she were sure, but she wasn’t wrong. I shouldn’t get into a big fight and someone needed to be here if something happened—which was also why I shouldn’t be alone.

I might argue about taking Marcus as opposed to Amy, but they both had their strengths. Amy couldn’t stay transformed forever and if they wanted speed, he was easy to bring along. Plus, he was easily as tough as Jaclyn and Izzy in his own way.

Anyway, I had no time to complain. I heard the sound of Dad’s footsteps on the floor upstairs and heard him shout, “Joan! Joan! Where are you?”

Mom shouted, “The basement!”

Standing behind her, Uncle Steve looked up from Number Eight’s body and up to the sound of my dad running toward the stairway, “This isn’t good. He’s not free of the block yet, is he?”

Mom closed her eyes, “No, but he’s close and we’re not going to be able to hide,” she pointed her finger downward, “that.”

Number Eight’s body continued to bleed internally—I could see it through the Rocket suit’s sensors. Mom had cut his heart partly through along with the superior vena cava and aorta.

Uncle Steve looked down, “I’ve got to say, though, he looks nicer than some people I’ve killed. Did Dad send you to Lee?”

Mom nodded, “As soon as we found out that I didn’t quite have Mom’s abilities, he had Lee teach me a fighting style that used what I could do. Plus, Mom helped. It all came back after my block came down and I’ve done more work with Lee when he’s around.”

Uncle Steve let out a low whistle and turned his head toward me, “Did you know?”

“I knew what she could do. I didn’t know anything about Lee,” I didn’t quite manage to keep the sound of surprise out of my voice.

“You never asked,” Mom said, “and I’m still not comfortable talking about it.”

The thump of Dad’s footfalls on the stair told me that whatever would happen next was about to happen. Mom’s eyes widened as she turned around to look out of the hole in the scazz and into the laundry room.

I squashed down an urge to pull up the spybots’ view of the neighborhood around Travis’ parents’ house. I’d have to be useful for whatever was about to happen here. Plus, if I were honest, anything that Izzy and Jalyn couldn’t handle with Travis, Daniel, Cassie, Vaughn, and Marcus was also out of my league.

Still, even with the dicey nature of my wounds, I couldn’t ignore that fight. If I knew what was happening, I could maybe do something, even if it was from a distance.

I opened up the GPS view of the fight in my HUD. Dots superimposed a map of the neighborhood would tell me who was still in the fight.

Dad stepped into the laundry room, staring at the blue-green metal alloy covering the door and the hole, “Joan, are you back there? Are you okay?”

Mom stepped into view of the hole, “I’m fine. We were attacked, but we survived. I need to call the police.”

Dad stepped through the hole in the metal wall, looking down at it and shaking his head. Then he looked past Uncle Steve to see me and his eyes widened, “Oh.”

He looked down at Number Eight’s body, “What happened? Is he dead?”

I said, “Yes. I’m sorry. There was no other way to stop him.”

He looked at the wall of silver goo still hanging in the room and the metallic walls. He wobbled on his feet, holding out his his hand and placing it against the wall to steady himself.

Mom walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

He shook his head, “I don’t know. There’s something wrong. There’s something strange in my head. I feel dizzy, but not physically. I don’t have the right words. I forgot something. I don’t know what I don’t know, but I feel as if it’s right on the tip of my tongue. I’m sorry. I know this doesn’t make any sense. My head feels so full it might explode.”

Uncle Steve looked from him and back to me.

I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to do?