FORTY TWO
PANDORA TRAILED behind Dragomir and his cohorts as they flew over the city back to her building. All of them piled in through her window portal, above her loft. Her impetuous cats raced to hide in the shadows, as the Barbarian squeezed in through the tight opening above.
“Don't break the door,” she quipped.
Quakestorm, Nukeman, and a battered Shifty set down behind Dragomir across the loft.
Pandora followed as Dragomir slid Woden's spear from his back, and he clenched his claws tightly onto the blue silver shaft. The spear twinkled with microscopic sparks that left streaks in the air.
As she passed, she grabbed the warm margarita she had hastily left sitting on the bar. Her color scheme adjusted to suit her lightening mood.
Nukeman chattered, “That was a great speech, boss.
