The witness was beautiful, in a way that was almost hard to look at. His face was abstract and fashionable, all eyes and angles, with a luminous innocence too perfect to be entirely sincere…
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“Wow.” Tiny Tim shakes his head slowly. Peels off his crimson domino mask and slaps it down on the meeting table. “That makes three of us.”
“We’re marked men….” Dust Mite’s voice trembles. He tugs at the hood of his pale gray body suit. “Every costumed avenger with the power to shrink…”
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Their orange gazes came from devilishly carved eyes and their vigilant stares sent a chill up Kincade’s neck. He had never liked the gutted vegetables that people found hauntingly ornamental this time of year…
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