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to make sure it was anchored on something solid.  
    “Thanks again for the rescue,” Talon said, looking off to the left instead of at me. “Tonight, you’re my hero.”
    Talon started to press a button on the side of the grappling hook gun, but his finger slipped off the gadget. He tried again, with the same result. The third time, he dropped the gun entirely. The superhero teetered from side to side, his legs crumpled, and he pitched forward, face-first into the snow.
    I stared at his unconscious form. Snow drifted down from the black winter sky, covering his cobalt-blue costume one white, crystal flake at a time.  
    I rubbed my aching head. I had a wounded, unconscious superhero who’d made me promise not to call the police and not take him to the hospital. Bandit and his thugs could come back any second, and the weather was going from bad to worse.
    I was used to dealing with crises, but this was a doozy even for me.
    What was I going to do now?

 
    Chapter Four
     
    Even though my headache throbbed toward full-blown migraine, I didn’t panic. I never did, not even when the cruise ship I’d rented out for a bar mitzvah capsized in the middle of Bigtime Bay with two hundred people on board. I hadn’t panicked then, with the threat of mass casualties and the end of my career as an event planner staring me in the face, and I wasn’t going to now.
    Instead, I thought about things, the snow still falling around me. I looked at my phone. I could call the cops. I should call the cops. They could help the superhero, make sure he got the medical attention he needed. But Talon didn’t want me to. And he’d been right about something. If Bandit came after him while the superhero was in the hospital, he’d be dead—and other people would get caught in the crossfire.  
    Besides, I’d promised the superhero I wouldn’t. I always kept my promises—even when I had to plan the perfect party in less than a week’s time.
    So, no calling the police.  
    I could hail a cab, but I doubted any were running at this hour, especially with the snow picking up speed. Even if I did find a cab, the driver would just take Talon to the hospital, and the police would get involved there.
    So, no hailing a cab.
    But I had to do something . I couldn’t leave the superhero in the alley in the cold. Talon would freeze to death—or Bandit would come back and finish him off. I massaged my temples, trying to think of some anonymous place where the superhero would be safe, warm, and hopefully stop bleeding.  
    The convention center. The public library. Quicke’s. Oodles o’ Stuff. Paradise Park. I ticked off the downtown locations in my head, discarding them all. Every place was either already closed, or there’d be too many people asking too many questions.
    I glanced over my shoulder toward the deserted street. I should have just kept on walking instead of stopping to investigate some strange noise. Damn superhearing. It always got me in trouble. I could have been at home in bed in my loft right now, instead of out here, freezing my ass off—
    Wait a minute. My loft. I could take Talon to my loft. It was safe and warm and free of ubervillains. Better yet, it was only a few blocks away.
    It was the best plan I could come up with—the only plan. Now, all I had to do was figure out how to get him there. I didn’t think I could carry Talon. At least, not more than a few feet. I looked back toward the end of the alley, hoping Fiera, Wynter, or some other superstrong superhero would just happen along to help me move Talon—or better yet take him off my hands altogether.
    But, of course, it didn’t happen. That was another reason I didn’t pay much attention to superheroes. They were never around when you really needed them. Like during my water-logged bar mitzvah. I’d expected, even hoped, for Cap’n Freebeard and his Saucy Wenches to show up and take everyone off the sinking ship, but the pirate and his psychedelic party barge had