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instead of dull painted bricks, and that gave them a luster that caught this girl’s attention. And not just mine.
    There should be a diamond storage , Eve Kappler said in my head. That combined with this would be … glorious. I’d never taken her for a gold and jewels type. You think you know someone, just because they’re living in your head …
    Fairbine had told me that each of them weighed twenty-eight pounds, and the workers had to wear special shoes when they moved them. You know, in case someone dropped one on their foot. Because that sort of thing could put a real damper on your weekend games of lacrosse.
    I felt a low rumble and looked across the room to the far end, where we were reasonably sure they were going to come in. There were a dozen guys waiting, both nervous security personnel from the bank as well as NYPD SWAT, and while they didn’t have their fingers on the trigger, you could tell there was a gameday atmosphere. This was probably going to be the single biggest, gutsiest robbery attempt on the place ever—and certainly the closest to succeeding. I mean, it’s probably gonna sound like a humbrag, but they totally would have gotten away with it if not for us meddling kids.
    “Everybody ready?” Welch asked, the consummate professional. I hadn’t asked him, but I was pretty sure he was so gung-ho because he was getting to ride shotgun on this and get a lot of the glory for it. Most of the crew we were about to take down was human, after all, and they all had the rap sheets of professional criminals. He’d make a nice name for himself on this one, stand out front at the press conference while Reed and I vamoosed back to Minnesota without being heard from at the event.
    I was going to get the dregs—Eric Simmons, and maybe his mastermind, if they turned out to be a meta. Simmons was no prize, but the collar would be nice. He wouldn’t be able to be imprisoned in a normal place, like Riker’s Island, after all. He’d have to go where—well, where metas go.
    Once again, that was my department.
    My job.
    Blocks were moving at the back end of the vault. Fairbine assured us that the place was normally empty at this hour, which was probably why the thieves had chosen this moment to make their entry. Morning rounds had concluded, the next patrol would be a little bit off yet. A subtle rumble ran through the vault again, and the lights flickered.
    Showtime, Roberto Bastian said in my mind. Always the tactical thinker, that one.
    I strode out in front of Fairbine, who suddenly looked a little weak in the knees. I could feel my brother a little behind me. By unspoken agreement, I always went first. Not only because I was more suited to sponging up bullets, but because I was easily the better person to beat the ass off whoever we faced. Better, faster, stronger. Reed knew it and he didn’t make a fuss about it, which was good, because I wouldn’t have enjoyed beating him into a pulp just to prove a point. Don’t mess with little sister. She will eff you up.
    Bricks shifted in the wall ahead of me, high above a stack of gold bars. Fairbine had informed me that the vault wall had been reinforced last year, but that this had gone unmentioned in any public forum. We assumed our criminals would be a little behind schedule because of this fact, but as I heard the rattle of concrete hitting the floor, I knew they’d punched through on time. Taken by itself, it hinted to me that the brains of this operation had known about the reinforcement.
    Smart brain. I couldn’t wait to knock it senseless.
    I could hear the faint noises of jubilation over the high-pitched whine of the drill they were using, the sounds of a bunch of crooks that were about to get a hell of a surprise.
    “Clear!” came the shout from within the cage ahead. The drill powered down, whine dying to a whimper in a second. I couldn’t see it very well behind a stack of gold bullion that went over my head. I heard guys coming in through the