Chapter 16: Mid-Chase Celebration
The world became a violent, upward lurch. One moment Harmony’s feet were on gritty asphalt, the next, thick, muscular vines were wrapped around her waist, yanking her into the air with a force that stole her breath. The city spun—a dizzying carousel of neon and darkness—before she was dumped unceremoniously onto the hard, vibrating floor of a subway car. The doors hissed shut behind them.
She lay there, gasping, the taste of exhaust and her own panic sharp in her throat. The sapphire, a hard, cold weight in the small bag clutched to her chest, felt like a stolen piece of a star.
“Woo! Now that’s a commute!” Harley’s voice cut through the rattling roar of the train. She was already on her feet, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her hair a wild mess. Her eyes landed on Harmony, splayed on the floor, and lit up with feral delight.
In two quick strides, Harley was on her. She didn’t help her up. She dropped to her knees, straddling Harmony’s hips, and pinned her wrists to the grimy floor. The cold metal seeped through the living vines of Harmony’s costume.
“You,” Harley breathed, her face inches from Harmony’s. The adrenaline was a visible aura around her, a crackling electricity that made the air hum. “You were magnificent. All big eyes and wobbly lip. I could’ve eaten you alive in that hallway.”
Before Harmony could form a word, Harley’s mouth was on hers. It wasn’t like the grotto, that strange, sweet exploration. This was a claiming. A violent, celebratory punctuation mark at the end of a sentence of crime. Harley’s tongue tasted of stolen champagne and pure, unadulterated chaos. Harmony melted into the assault, her back arching off the floor, a muffled sound of surprise and surrender caught in her throat.
When Harley finally broke away, both of them were panting, their breath fogging in the cold air of the car. The distant wail of sirens echoed faintly from the streets above, a reminder that the world was still hunting them.
“That,” Harley panted, a wide, unhinged grin splitting her face, “had to be the hottest felony ever.”
From the corner of the car, Ivy let out a long, deliberate sigh. She was leaning against a pole, looking out the grimy window at the black tunnel wall rushing by. She didn’t turn around. “Must you defile public transit? It’s already filthy enough.”
“Aw, lighten up, Pammy! We’re rich!” Harley laughed, rolling off Harmony and springing to her feet. She pulled the sapphire from the bag, holding it up to the flickering fluorescent light. The blue stone seemed to drink the weak illumination and pulse with its own deep, celestial fire. “Look at this thing! It’s like holding a piece of the ocean at midnight.”
Harmony slowly sat up, her lips still tingling, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She watched Harley, this dazzling, dangerous creature, spinning with the priceless gem in the middle of the empty, graffiti-scarred car. It was the most beautiful and terrifying thing she had ever seen.
Ivy finally turned, her green eyes flicking from the sapphire to Harley’s ecstatic face, then to Harmony’s flushed, overwhelmed one. A complex emotion—weariness, affection, exasperation—crossed her features. “It’s a rock, Quinn. A pretty one, but still a rock. The city is currently turning itself inside out to find it. And us.”
“Details, details,” Harley sang, tucking the gem back into the bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She plopped down on a seat next to Harmony, immediately leaning into her space, their shoulders touching. “The hard part’s over. We got the goods, we got the getaway, and we got the girl.” She nudged Harmony playfully. “Right, bunny?”
Harmony just nodded, unable to speak. The clinginess she felt was a physical ache, a need to be as close to this radiant heat as possible. She leaned her head on Harley’s shoulder, inhaling the scents of sweat, candy, and Gotham grime that clung to her.
Ivy watched them, a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. “You’re like a stray puppy she brought home, Hayes. One she’s going to forget to feed.”
“I’d never!” Harley protested, wrapping an arm around Harmony and pulling her closer. “She’s our good-luck charm. Our pretty little criminal-in-training.” She pressed a quick, loud kiss to Harmony’s temple. “Aren’t you?”
The train erupted from the tunnel into a sprawling station, its lights a sudden, blinding assault. For a moment, they were illuminated in the car’s bright interior, a frozen tableau: the ecstatic clown, the dazed girl, and the silent, watchful queen of green. Commuters on the platform glanced in, their faces blank with the exhaustion of the late hour, utterly unaware of the fortune and the fugitives rolling past them.
As the train began to slow, Ivy pushed herself off the pole. “This is us. Try to look inconspicuous.”
Harley giggled, grabbing Harmony’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “Too late for that, Red. Look at her.” She gestured to Harmony’s glowing, vine-clad body. “She’s a walking nightlight.”
They stepped onto the platform, the sapphire heavy in the bag, the city’s hunt a distant echo, and the new, terrifying shape of Harmony’s future settling around her shoulders like a familiar coat.
Ivy moved with a purpose that brooked no argument, a sharp contrast to Harley’s celebratory stumble. “Keep moving. Don’t gawk.” Her voice was a low command, cutting through the station’s echoing din. She didn’t look back, trusting they would follow her lead through the late-night crowd.
Harley tugged Harmony along, her grip firm and excited. “C’mon, lucky charm, before Pammy gets all vine-y again.” The stolen sapphire thumped rhythmically against Harley’s hip in the duffel bag, a tangible pulse of their success.
The platform was a river of tired commuters, their faces washed in the sterile fluorescent light. Harmony, still buzzing from the kiss and the heist, suddenly felt the weight of their stares. A man in a rumpled suit did a double-take, his eyes widening at the sight of her luminous, vine-clad skin. A woman clutching a grocery bag openly stared, her mouth slightly agape at the spectacle of a near-naked girl covered in glowing plants being dragged by a brightly-dressed woman.
A hot flush crept up Harmony’s neck. She instinctively tried to pull the duffle bag’s strap across her chest, a futile attempt at modesty. The delicate fungi woven into her costume seemed to pulse brighter under the attention, betraying her discomfort. She felt like an exotic animal on display, a strange and beautiful mistake.
“They’re looking,” she whispered, her voice tight, leaning closer to Harley.
Harley just grinned, throwing a defiant wink at a stunned teenager. “Let ‘em look, bunny. They’re just jealous they’re not us.” She squeezed Harmony’s hand, her touch a brand of belonging. “They’ll never have a night like ours.”