Kelly Dawson lived in an apartment building on East 84th Street, a little less than a mile from her office at DHS. Connor and Angela had teleported Joanna into the nearest alleyway, where luckily, no one was around to witness their precipitous arrival.
“You’re sure you’re going to be okay?” Angela asked. On the next street over, someone honked, and the response was a volley of more honking. The prima winced, obviously not too impressed with the bright lights of the big city.
Not that Joanna could call herself impressed, either. All right, the only thing she’d seen so far was this alley, but what she hadn’t been expecting was the enormous, crushing weight of having so many people packed into such a small space. The tall buildings felt as though they wanted to topple over on her, and the a
