CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: A CLASH OF STYLES

Taylor heard the commotion before she saw it.

A voice—loud, frustrated, and definitely unprofessional. “Oh, come on! What kind of loser sets a trap just to watch people fight?”

Then a crash, followed by a very annoyed groan.

She rounded the corner just in time to see a masked figure—purple, with a hood and cape—dealing with the last of the retreating mercenaries. Dealing with was a generous term, though. More like flailing at.

Spoiler.

Taylor had read about her—a street vigilante with a history of bouncing between going solo, working as a sidekick, and now wearing the Bat symbol. Less disciplined than Nightwing and the others, but smart enough—and lucky enough—to stay alive in Gotham.

One of the mercenaries turned to run. Spoiler kicked him in the shin. Hard.

“Yeah, that’s right! Run, nerd!”

Taylor stared.

Spoiler dusted herself off, then turned her way. The mask covered everything but her eyes, but Taylor could hear the amusement in her voice. “Oh, hey! You must be the mystery-girl-with-no-name. You good?”

Taylor folded her arms. “I had it handled.”

Spoiler scoffed. “Uh-huh. You were totally about to not get shot by that sniper.”

Taylor exhaled sharply. “I knew he was there.”

“Oh, obviously. That’s why you let him take a shot at you.”

Taylor clenched her jaw beneath her mask. “I—”

“Relax, broody.” Spoiler waved her off. “You’re new to Gotham, so let me give you some advice: stuff like this?” She gestured vaguely to the warehouse. “It happens. A lot. Get used to it.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“Cool. Me too.” Spoiler rolled her shoulders. “Doesn’t mean you should do it alone.”

Taylor frowned.

So many people—including Leslie Thompkins—had warned her about the dangers of working solo. And maybe they had a point. She’d spent months avoiding team-ups, trying to carve out her own place in Gotham without getting involved in its larger game. But the way this city worked, that was getting harder every day.

And as much as she hated to admit it, having someone familiar with Gotham’s underground would help.

Spoiler must have caught the hesitation because her posture shifted slightly—more casual, less expectant. “You don’t have to decide now. But trust me, you’ll want backup sooner or later.”

Taylor looked at her, at the outstretched hand that wasn’t quite extended but wasn’t fully withdrawn either.

Finally, she shook her head. “Not interested.”

Spoiler didn’t argue. If anything, she just tilted her head like she was making a mental note.

“Alright, mystery girl. Have it your way.” She took a few steps back, then threw a mock salute. “I’ll see you around.”

Then she was gone.

Taylor exhaled slowly.

She was sure she’d made the right decision.

So why did it feel like she hadn’t?