i'm the bitch you hated, filth infatuated

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I'm the bitch you hated, filth infatuated.
Yeah! I'm the pain you tasted, fell intoxicated.
I'm a firestarter, twisted firestarter.
-The Prodigy, Firestarter

A malevolent eye stared at me from within. I recognized it as belonging to Javier. "Harley? What the hell are you doing here?" he asked incredulously, his glare fading, allowing the gap to widen just a bit more as he recognized me.

That was all I needed. I shoved my foot in the crack and slammed my shoulder against the door. Surprised, he let it go, and the door flew open with the force. I strolled in like I owned the place and looked around, taking account of the remaining men.

Chaz was missing. Javier was there, obviously, as well as Tommy, Jake, and Roger. There was also a group of four or five men who were mostly strangers, though one or two of them looked vaguely familiar. I turned and fixed Javier with a glare.

"Is this it?" I demanded.

He crossed his arms, looking unusually hostile, and I vaguely realized that I'd never spoken to him this way and he obviously didn't appreciate it. I felt a momentary twinge of misgiving as he glowered at me—after all, he was only a little shorter than the Joker and weighed even more, meaning that in a fight I'd be at a disadvantage—but shoved it aside. I couldn't afford to even think my doubts at this moment.

"Of course this is it," he snapped. "In case you didn't notice, the boss is out of commission. The only ones here are the ones who can't go home."

"Lost boys, I get it," I said, nodding abruptly and turning away. "All right, boys, listen up! Here's what we're going to do—"

"Excuse me!" Tommy had spoken up, and I looked attentively at him, raising my eyebrows. "Who put you in charge?"

I showed my teeth, the corners of my lips pulled up in the mockery of a smile. "I put me in charge. Now, sweetie, really—shut up before I bring Timmy out."

"Who the hell's Timmy?" Tommy muttered sourly. Jake, ignoring him, pushed forward like a bantam cock, all puffed-out chest and wiry biceps.

"Gonna have to agree with Tommy here, Harley," he said breezily. "The Jokerman threw you out. Or do you want us to believe that he beat the shit out of you just for fun?" He wiggled his eyebrows tauntingly.

I took a second to size him up. He was a little taller than Javier but didn't look quite as strong, and I'd been drawing even with Javier in our last few sparring matches. Taking advantage of the element of surprise, I lunged at him, going for the throat.

No, I mean I literally went for the throat. As he threw his hands up to fend me off, I grabbed his wrists, wresting them out and away from him, and ducked forward, sinking my teeth into his corded neck. He gave a quick, soft huff of surprise, which quickly extended into a scream as my jaw tightened and I felt flesh give out under my teeth.

I came away with a sizeable chunk of his neck in my mouth. I was rather relieved to see that I'd missed the jugular—I didn't want to deal with blood spraying all over the place—but I'd still made him bleed enough to serve my purposes. He screamed wordlessly at me as I let him go, stumbling back and grabbing his throat. I think I'd surprised him. I'd certainly surprised the other men, who stood completely motionless, making no moves to help their wounded colleague.

Come to think of it, I'd surprised myself.

I spat out the chunk of skin but didn't wipe away the blood on my lips. I figured it would give me a bit of an edge, that the crazier I looked, the warier they would be about trying to deal with me. I turned to the other men and bared my teeth for a split second. "Remember, boys," I said flatly, "Girls bite." I lifted my hand, curling the fingers into a claw. "We scratch, too. Anyone care to see?"

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