Flash Fire by T.J. Klune

9

The sky had darkened considerably. Flurries fell, catching the light from the streetlamps. It was freezing, but Nick barely felt it as his feet pounded pavement, pushing through the people on the sidewalk.

He didn’t know how long he ran for, only that by the time he stopped, he had a painful stitch in his side. He was hot. He was cold. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t latch onto a single clear thought that would help pull him through the storm in his head. He couldn’t pull enough air into his lungs.

He lifted his head, his neck stiff and sore. In an alley. He was in an alley a few feet off the sidewalk, hidden in the encroaching dark. Nick pressed his forehead against the side of a building, the brick cold against his skin. Before he could stop himself, he punched the brick. The pain was fierce and immediate, the knuckles of his skin splitting, blood welling. It was enough to clear his head a little, and he sucked in a breath that burned his throat.

“Think,” he muttered, shaking his hand, blood falling to the ground. “Think. You can do this. Focus. Next step.”

He couldn’t call Dad. He didn’t know where Jazz had gone. Last he heard, Gibby was still at the Grays’ house, working on—

Seth.

Seth, Seth, Seth.

He would know what to do.

Nick pulled his phone from his pocket, wincing when his injured hand rubbed against rough denim. He ignored it, grunting as his fingers flew over the screen.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.

“You’ve reached Seth’s voicemail. I’m probably busy. And nobody calls anyone anymore unless it’s an emergency. Send a text. Unless it’s an emergency.”

“It is an emergency,” Nick hissed into the phone after it beeped. “Pick up your damn phone! I can move things with my mind.”

He tried again.

Voicemail.

Like last year, when he thought Seth had been ignoring his calls, because if his phone was off, it would have rung once before going to voicemail. If he hadn’t heard, it’d ring at least six times.

Three times meant Seth silenced the call.

Seth—for whatever reason—couldn’t talk right then. Before he could get pissed off, he remembered vaguely that earlier, Gibby had said that Seth suited up, meaning something had happened.

Just busy. That’s all it was. Seth was saving the day.

Again.

But then, why hadn’t Dad known? Unless he’d been distracted by his call with Simon Burke, Dad should’ve been where Seth was, or at least monitoring the situation remotely.

Nick swallowed thickly, unable to comprehend that level of betrayal. Simon Burke was the enemy. And Dad was helping him.

Nick was alone. No one to call. No one to help him. No one he could trust.

“Oh, come on,” he mumbled to himself. “You’re not that much of a drama queen. Call Gibby. Call Jazz. Call Martha or Bob. Be smart about this. Figure it out. My superpower is my brain, so think, goddammit!”

Before he could get anywhere, his phone beeped.

A text from Seth, as if he knew Nick needed him. Saw u called. Long day, heading home. Talk tomorrow? xx

Kiss kiss. It should have made Nick flush to the roots of his hair.

Except his phone beeped again, this time from the Team Pyro Storm app, the alert with an 8-bit cartoon of Pyro Storm’s face with a word bubble proclaiming PYRO STORM IS NEARBY! He clicked on Pyro Storm’s face, which opened a map of Nova City on his screen. Gibby had integrated Google Maps to show every street, complete with the names of buildings, parks, and neighborhoods. A green dot blinked on the screen as it moved. The dot showed Seth about twenty minutes away from where he now stood. The green blip moved toward what Nick thought was an alley behind a row of restaurants and a bodega with a particularly mean cat the size of a small horse.

The opposite way of his house.

Nick frowned as he went back to the text thread. Hesitating a moment, he tapped a reply.

Going to bed?

Yep! Exhausted. Easy stuff, no worries. Even sent a new tweet on the account!

Playful. Fun. Their usual banter.

And a lie, because he switched back to the app and saw that Seth still wasn’t going home. The dot was stopped in the alley.

He was about to text back that he could see that Seth wasn’t going home. His thumb hovered over the screen. But that wasn’t cool, right? The app wasn’t made for Nick to track his boyfriend. It’d be an invasion of privacy if Nick called him out for it. He trusted Seth as much as he did his … well, as much as he had trusted his father. So what if Seth was lying about where he was? He didn’t need Nick’s permission to do anything.

He switched back to the app, planning on shutting it down, when the green blip disappeared.

It only did that when Seth turned off the tracker himself.

Like he realized he wasn’t where he said he was.

But …

Nick’s gorge rose, his mouth flooding with saliva. What if Seth had been captured by a new villain? What if this new villain had taken Seth’s phone from him to respond to Nick’s messages while ordering his lackeys to torture Pyro Storm? What if Seth was screaming for help and no one was there to save him? That was more likely than Seth Gray lying about where he was. Seth never lied. Sure, he’d kept his alter-ego from Nick for years, but there’d been a good reason for that.

Doubt crept in. Seth would be the type to keep things from Nick if he thought it’d put him in danger. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he stared down at his phone.

He typed back a response. Glad ur using the Twitter. Remember that candy I gave u last year? What was it called again?

No one outside of their friend group would know the answer. If this wasn’t Seth on the other end, then they wouldn’t be able to tell him.

Skwinkles Salsagheti. Good night <3

“Oh no,” Nick breathed. “You’re lying.”

He left the alley behind.

Nick tried to run the entire way but he’d already run more today than he’d probably done in his entire life, and the stitch in his side grew teeth.

He made it to the cross streets he’d seen on the map. The snow flurries had lessened, the sky now spitting a few flakes that swirled around him. People laughed and smiled as they hurried by him. Though the streetlamps lit the sidewalks, the shadows of night seemed to reach toward him, and he felt colder than he had in his life.

The alley was as he thought: in between a bodega and an apartment building at the forefront of gentrification, sleek and made of steel and glass.

Nick crossed the street as soon as the light gave him the go-ahead, hurrying as he pulled his hood up and over his head. It wasn’t a costume, but it’d have to do until he could change that. He reached the alley, hoping Seth hadn’t left. No lights, only darkness. He couldn’t even see how far back the alley went. “Okay. You can do this. Furious Lightning Punch. Make sure they know you mean business. Move silently. Don’t let them hear you.”

With that, he stepped into the alley.

And immediately tripped over a bag of trash lying on the ground. The bag was apparently filled with at least five hundred pounds of glass; it shattered so loudly, Nick was sure the sound registered as a seismic event on the Richter scale. He managed to stay upright, but only because he stepped down hard onto the bag, breaking even more glass.

He froze, waiting to see if anyone called out to him.

No one did.

He took another step forward. More glass broke. And then more. “Are you kidding me?” he whispered angrily. “Come on.”

He took an exaggerated step forward, clearing the glass. Relieved, he hurried further into the alley, keeping close to the building on his left.

He was halfway down the alley when he heard Seth’s voice.

Scratch that.

Pyro Storm’svoice, modulated and deep.

He didn’t sound hurt.

He sounded fine.

Nick pressed himself flat against the building as he inched closer.

“—and we’ll have to be careful,” Pyro Storm was saying. “They’ll figure out something is up before too long. I don’t like keeping things from them, my boyfriend especially. People don’t give him the credit he deserves. He’s smart. He’ll figure it out eventually. We need to get ahead of that.”

Before Nick could puff out his chest (because compliments he wasn’t supposed to hear were his favorite kind of compliments), another voice spoke, breathy and deep. “I get that, honeybunch, but I’d remind you this isn’t about him. It’s about you and me.”

Pyro Storm sighed. “I know. And I’m not going to force you to do something you’re not ready for, but I don’t like lying to people I care about. I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.”

“Don’t I know it,” the voice replied. “There may come a time when I’ll change my mind, but it’s not today. I gotta watch out for me, because I’m the only one who will.”

“We’re in this together,” Pyro Storm said. “I promise.”

Nick stopped moving, his back against a wall that ended a couple of feet away, turning inward at a ninety-degree angle. An alcove. Pyro Storm and whoever he was talking to were in an alcove.

“I wish I could believe you,” the voice said. “But I’ve seen what happens to people like us. We’re different. It’s like coming out. I went through that once already. I don’t know if I’m capable of doing it again. I don’t even know who you are behind the mask.”

“Just like I don’t know who you are outside of your costume,” Pyro Storm said. “It’s safer this way, at least for now. We’re Extraordinaries. You need to get used to keeping your identity a secret.”

Nick’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. Extraordinaries? As in plural? There was no way there were others he didn’t know about, right? Seth wouldn’t … he would never keep something like that secret.

“You’re breaking my heart,” the voice said. “Look at you. You can mope with the best of them. Come here. Let me make it better.”

Nick heard movement, and then the voice said, “There. That’s it. Tighter, fire boy. I’m not gonna break. Put your back into it.”

Nick trusted Seth with his life. He trusted Seth with his heart. Seth would never do anything to hurt him, at least not intentionally. But today hadn’t been a normal day, even in the life of one Nicholas Bell, which was filled with many abnormal days. Nick was tired, hurt, and more than a little angry.

So Nick didn’t think he could be blamed for jumping out of the shadows into the alcove, a thunderous expression on his face. He blinked against the bare bulb hanging over a rusty door at the back of the alcove.

And there, standing in a pool of light, was Pyro Storm, hugging a spectacularly tall woman with brown skin who had to hunch over to wrap her arms around Nick’s boyfriend. Her hair, which hung in shockingly blue curls, bounced as she swayed Pyro Storm back and forth. She wore a leotard of sorts, covered in black sparkly sequins, and killer white boots that rose up to her knees. Her arms were covered in thin metal bangles, and if Nick wasn’t extremely confused, he’d think this stranger had the best costume he’d ever seen.

Perhaps, then, he could be forgiven for blurting out, “Oh my god, you look amazing. Bangles? I could never pull that off.”

The effect was instantaneous. Pyro Storm yelped and stumbled back, the lenses covering his eyes flashing brightly. The other figure whirled around, and Nick could see she (he? they? Nick needed to get their pronouns before he made a fool of himself) wore a white mask that covered their eyes, the tips of which curled up into spiky points like old-fashioned glasses. The mask had tiny, electric-blue rhinestones on it that sparkled when they caught the light from the bulb.

“Nick?” Pyro Storm said in a strangled voice.

Nick ignored him in favor of this new Extraordinary. He rushed forward, and as he approached, he thought he heard the snarl of electricity, the air around him thickening with the stench of ozone. He stopped in his tracks when what appeared to be blue lightning crawled along the Extraordinary’s arms, down to their fingers. They raised one hand, the lightning collecting in a ball above their palm.

“No, wait,” Pyro Storm cried, jumping forward and knocking their hand down. The ball of lightning fell from their hand, hitting the ground and bursting, sending arcs of electricity along the dirty pavement. Nick managed to hop over it, but not before what felt like every single hair on his body stood on end. He came to a stop a foot away from the two people gaping at him.

“Whoa,” Nick breathed, staring up in awe at the Extraordinary towering over him. “You have lightning powers? Holy shit, that’s freaking rad. Please don’t electrocute me, but if you still feel the need to, at least I’ll go out knowing my murderer wears the hell out of those boots. I bet they’re good for kicking people in the junk.” He blanched and took a step back. “Uh, not that I’d like to find that out for myself or anything.”

“Pyro Storm,” the Extraordinary said, squinting down at Nick. “Who is this little twink who won’t stop talking?”

“Hi!” Nick said, thrusting out his hand, hoping he wasn’t about to get fried. The Extraordinary hesitated before taking it. Nick pumped their hands up and down three times before letting go. “I’m Nick. I’m Pyro Storm’s biggest fan. Also, his boyfriend. Also, I’m the leader of Team Pyro Storm. Also, I run Lighthouse.” He paused, considering. “Well, not by myself. Gibby and Jazz help, too, but still.” He struck what he hoped looked like a heroic pose, hands on his hips, gazing off into the distance as if contemplating the road that still lay ahead.

“What,” the Extraordinary said flatly, and Nick had to admire someone who could put so much into a single word.

The moment was broken when Pyro Storm rushed forward, cape billowing behind him. He grabbed Nick by the arm, pulling him back out of the alcove. “What are you doing here?” he whisper-shouted. “I told you I’d see you tomorrow!”

“Right,” Nick said. “And I respect that, but I needed to see you as soon as possible.” He craned his neck back toward the Extraordinary, who stood staring at them with narrowed eyes. “Who is that and why do I want to be like them when I grow up?”

Pyro Storm groaned. “Nick, you can’t be here.”

Nick blinked. “What do you mean I can’t be here? That certainly doesn’t seem true, because I am here. Weird how that works.”

Pyro Storm jostled him. “Nicky, focus. Look at me.”

Nick did. He leaned forward, kissing the bump in Pyro Storm’s mask where his nose was. “Hi. Nice to see you.”

Pyro Storm sighed, though he was fighting a smile. “How did you find me?”

Nick winced. “Uh, the tracker? But I swear I wasn’t being creepy or that I don’t trust you, even though you lied when you said you were going home and going to bed. I forgive you for that, by the way. Who is that? Why didn’t you tell me there was another Extraordinary?”

“Go home,” Pyro Storm said. “We can talk about this tomorrow, okay? I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”

“What does it look like?” Nick asked, confused.

Pyro Storm looked over his shoulder at the other Extraordinary before turning back to Nick. “I’m not—we’re not doing anything. With each other. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Nick gaped at him before bending over, wrapping his arms around his waist as he laughed.

Pyro Storm frowned. “It’s not funny!”

“It is,” Nick gasped, wiping his eyes. “Dude, I know you, okay? You would never cheat on me.”

“You didn’t think that?” Pyro Storm asked, sounding small and unsure.

And Nick couldn’t have that. He leaned his forehead against Pyro Storm’s, the heat from him chasing away the chill in the air. “Of course not. I trust you not to mess around on me. That’s pretty mature, if you think about it.”

Pyro Storm shook his head. “You dork.”

“Introduce me,” Nick said, stepping back. But instead of waiting, Nick pushed by Pyro Storm and marched toward the new Extraordinary. “Sorry about that. He’s really protective of me. I’m cool with it. Hey! Hi, hello. I’m Nicholas Bell, and you are … ma’am? Sir? Some other pronoun you would have me use?”

The Extraordinary looked past him at Pyro Storm. “He’s loud.”

Nick nodded furiously. “That’s my default setting. Sorry about that. So—about that electricity you almost fried me with. I have questions.”

The Extraordinary looked him up and down. “Seems like you have your hands full with this one.”

“Not yet,” Nick said. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean we’re ready to take our relationship to the next level. We’re waiting until the time is right, even if it means blue balls.”

Pyro Storm groaned as the Extraordinary snorted. “I certainly wasn’t talking about that.”

Nick blanched. “Oh. Uh—right. My bad. I can see now that you weren’t inquiring about our sex life. Let’s start again. I’m Nick. And you are …”

“Wait,” Pyro Storm said as the Extraordinary opened their mouth. “Don’t.”

Nick and the Extraordinary both glared at Pyro Storm. “Honeybunch, he just asked my name. If I don’t want to tell him, I won’t.”

Pyro Storm shook his head. “It’s not that. You need to work up to it slowly with him. Trust me. Watch. Nick?”

“Yes,” Nick said promptly.

“I’m going to tell you her name in a moment, but first, I have to give you some information. I want you to breathe, okay? Easy breaths, in and out. Can you do that for me?”

Nick could. He sucked in a breath, held it, then let it out. He did it again. And again.

“Okay,” Pyro Storm said, taking his hand. “I’m going to tell you two things. I don’t want you to speak until I’m finished. Can you do that?”

Pffft. Easy.

Pyro Storm squeezed his hand. “First, she’s a drag queen. When she’s in costume, she uses she/her pronouns. When she’s not, she uses he/him.”

“A Puerto Rican drag queen,” the Extraordinary said, a seductive curl to her lips. “The best in Nova City.”

Nick opened his mouth, but the only sound that came out was—for lack of a better word—a squeak.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Pyro Storm said in a soothing voice. “I’m going to tell you her name now, and I need you to stay calm, okay?”

“What’s with all the theatrics?” the Extraordinary asked. “And when a drag queen asks you that question, you know shit’s getting weird.”

“Your name is a double entendre,” Pyro Storm explained, never looking away from Nick. “If there’s one thing Nick can’t handle, it’s a double entendre. Which is why I want to make sure he’s warned beforehand. Nicky, I believe in you. Hold back your reaction, okay?”

Nick nodded. He could do this.

“Nick, I’d like to introduce you to … Miss Conduct.”

Nick couldn’t do it. He slapped his hands over his mouth and screamed into them, the sound mostly muffled in the alcove. Miss Conduct? As in a conduct of electricity with a cheeky implication of bad behavior? Holy shit, it was literally the greatest thing Nick had ever heard. But—he didn’t want to embarrass Pyro Storm, especially in front of a drag queen. He had to maintain control. He dropped his hands, clasped them in front of him, and blurted, “Hello, Miss Conduct. I like your name. And your costume. And the fact that you exist.”

“Of course you do,” she said. “How old are you, twinkie?”

“Seventeen,” Nick said. “Well, almost. My birthday is in April. And I don’t know if I’m a twink or a furry. Being queer is very confusing. So many labels. Did you know there’s something called a twunk? Cosmo taught me that.”

Miss Conduct gaped at him before looking at Pyro Storm. “Are you seventeen too?”

“He is,” Nick said. “His birthday is in December. I bought him flame-retardant sheets so he didn’t burn his bed if he had sexy dreams about me. I give excellent gifts.”

“You’re children?” Miss Conduct asked. “What in the flying fu—”

Nick bristled. “We’re not children. Thank you for noticing that we’re young and attractive—”

“I never said anything about—”

“—but we’re more than capable of handling ourselves. We took down Shadow Star, didn’t we? Sure, my shoulder got dislocated and Pyro Storm almost died, but we won.” He stared defiantly up at Miss Conduct. “Don’t you dare give Pyro Storm shit over his age. He’s good at what he does. The best, even. If anyone tries to say otherwise, they have to go through me.”

“You look like you weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet,” Miss Conduct said, flicking his forehead. “I’ve eaten bigger men than you for breakfast.”

“Oh my god,” Nick mumbled. “So unfair. Your catchphrase is already better than mine.”

Pyro Storm shook his head. “Nick, what are you doing here? Did something happen?”

And with that, the weight of the day crashed back down upon Nick’s shoulders. He slumped inwardly, looking down at the ground, defeated. He flinched when a hand came under his chin, lifting his head. Pyro Storm cupped his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

Nick tried to smile, but it cracked right down the middle. “I should probably just show you.”

“Show me what?”

Nick took a step back away from Pyro Storm and Miss Conduct. Turning, he saw a metal trash can, dented and lying on its side on the ground. He closed his eyes, shaking out his shoulders and arms, trying to rid himself of the heavy tension that flooded his body. He opened his eyes, determined. He raised his hands in front of him, palms facing the trash can and prepared for the extraordinary. And because he could, he said, “It’s time to take out the trash.”

Nothing happened.

Nick wiggled his fingers.

Still nothing.

“Okay, uh, hold on a second. It worked earlier.” He curled his hands into fists before opening them again. “Flying Trash Can of Doom!”

Nothing.

“Levitating Metal Smash!”

The trash didn’t even twitch.

“Come on. Do it. Move! Furious Garbage Annihilation!”

The trash can shook. Nick’s eyes widened, sure he was about to show Pyro Storm and Miss Conduct that he absolutely deserved to be at their secret Extraordinary meeting. Then a cat ran out from the inside of the trash can, ears flattened as it hissed at them. It took off, disappearing into the darkness of the alley.

Nick dropped his hands. “Well, shit. It worked earlier. I don’t know how to turn it on.”

“Turn what on?” Pyro Storm asked.

Nick looked back over his shoulder. “Dude. I’m an Extraordinary.”

Pyro Storm shook his head. “Nick, we’ve been through this, remember? You’re perfect the way you are. You’re already—”

“It’s not like that,” Nick snapped. “I swear. I—look, I found out some stuff today, things my dad kept from me.” He swallowed thickly. “My mom, she—she was—”

He never got to finish. That moment, the temperature plummeted at least thirty degrees as the air around them crystalized, small snowflakes hanging suspended around them. Miss Conduct reached out to touch the closest snowflake. It broke apart, the minute ice crystals spinning slowly. She gasped as smoke began to billow around them, thick and noxious as it rose from the concrete. Nick started to cough roughly when Pyro Storm grabbed him by the wrist, jerking Nick back behind him. Nick crowded against him, peering over his shoulder.

“Something’s coming,” Pyro Storm growled. “Stay behind me, no matter what. Miss Conduct, either get out of here or get ready.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Miss Conduct said, coming to stand next to them. Nick looked over to see lightning arcing across her fingers. He gasped when her exposed skin turned almost translucent, electricity running along the entire length of her body. Her eyes began to glow an ethereal blue, as if the electricity was coming from within.

A crackling sound from above.

Nick lifted his head to see a figure skating down the side of the apartment building on a sheet of ice. Ten feet above the ground, they launched themselves off the building, landing in the alley in a crouch, the ground beneath them freezing instantly, shards of ice sprouting around their legs. They were clothed in white from head to toe. The only skin exposed was around their eyes, glittering darkly.

Before the team could react, smoke rose near the ice Extraordinary, taking on a vague shape that looked like arms and legs attached to a body. As they watched, the smoke parted, and from its center stepped another person, this one dressed similarly to their ice counterpart, except their costume was entirely black.

“Please tell me they are also friends you didn’t want me to know about,” Nick muttered in Pyro Storm’s ear.

“They’re not,” Pyro Storm snarled.

The two figures looked at each other and nodded before turning toward the others. As one, they took a step forward, their movements almost choreographed.

Ice said, “Hello.” A man, his voice deep and rough.

Smoke said, “We’ve found you.” A woman, her voice light and happy, almost like she was singing.

“What do you want?” Pyro Storm asked, pushing back against Nick.

Ice cocked his head, the movement staccato like a bird. “You.”

“The spare?” Smoke singsonged.

Ice glanced at Miss Conduct. “Leave her. We’re here for the others.”

Smoke nodded. “Pyro Storm, Nicholas Bell—Mr. Burke sends his regards.”

Chaos, then, an explosion of noise and movement. Nick shouted as Pyro Storm shoved him back with one hand, the other raised in front, a wave of fire rising from the ground in front of him. The heat was immense, melting the ice that had swallowed the alley. Nick reached for Pyro Storm, but his fingers only managed to graze his cape as the Extraordinary darted forward. Ice and Smoke parted, and Pyro Storm flew right between them, slamming into the brick behind them with a terrifying crash.

Nick yelled for Pyro Storm, but even as the words echoed in the alley around them, Miss Conduct said, “You bitches picked the wrong queen to mess with.” Her entire body transformed into electricity, her costume staying perfectly in place. She moved like a current, quicker than Nick could follow. The air sizzled around her as she launched herself forward, going for Smoke. Smoke saw her coming and right before they collided, Smoke dissipated into a black cloud. Miss Conduct flew through the smoke, hitting the building alongside Pyro Storm. She snarled as she turned, electricity arcing around her, even her hair turning into blue energy.

Smoke re-formed between them, facing Miss Conduct and Pyro Storm, her back to Nick. Ice stood and came to Smoke’s side. “The spare,” he said. “He doesn’t know about the spare.”

“Kill her,” Smoke said. “Kill her, and he’ll never know.”

They advanced, one step at a time.

Nick looked at his hands. “Come on,” he muttered, shaking them out. “Come on. Work.”

Pyro Storm threw a vicious punch, hand alight with fire, but his fist flew right through Smoke, sending a black cloud swirling into the air. The force of his movement caused Pyro Storm to over-correct, spinning toward Miss Conduct. He grunted when smoke curled up around his legs, almost like shadows. It crawled up his body, holding him in place. He struggled against it to no avail.

Ice advanced on Miss Conduct, the flurries around his head crashing together and solidifying, forming needle-sharp icicles. They floated above Ice’s head, growing bigger and bigger until they were the size of railroad spikes.

“Work,” Nick demanded. “Turn on. Powers activate!”

“Nick!” Pyro Storm shouted as he struggled against the smoke, bursts of fire crackling the air around him. “Get out of here! Run—you need to run.”

He should have. If he was smarter, he’d have taken off down the alley into the street, where he could see crowds still moving on the sidewalk. Even though he was scared out of his mind, he couldn’t leave Pyro Storm and Miss Conduct.

Without thinking, he rushed forward, but not toward Ice and Smoke and Miss Conduct and Pyro Storm. Instead, he went left, picking up the trash can that he’d tried to move with his mind. He grunted as he lifted it above his head, and he knew then and there that he’d probably never have a moment like this again.

So he said, “It’s time to take out the trash.”

Like a badass.

He hurled the trash can at the villains who dared to try to hurt Pyro Storm. Smoke saw it coming and dissipated again, the binds holding Pyro Storm in place falling away. But Ice didn’t move as fast, and the trash can broke a few of the icicles before smashing into his back, knocking him forward. Miss Conduct was ready and waiting, reaching up and grabbing Ice by the throat, electricity arcing off her arm. She pulled Ice close, their faces inches apart. “Ice, huh? Which is water. And we all know what happens when water meets electricity.”

Ice screamed as electricity coursed through him, snapping furiously, causing the spikes above him to shatter into powder and rain down around them. Miss Conduct lifted him off the ground, Ice’s legs kicking uselessly. “Get out of my face,” Miss Conduct hissed before throwing him as hard as she could. Nick managed to duck in time as Ice flew over him, smashing against the rusted door in the alcove.

Pyro Storm surged forward, leaving a trail of fire in his wake as Smoke re-formed, turning to look for Ice. Smoke grunted when Pyro Storm collided with her back, knocking her off her feet. Nick crouched low, and just when Smoke was about to hit him, he pushed himself up as hard as he could. Nick’s shoulder hit Smoke in the chest, and he pushed Smoke up and over him. Smoke hit the ground hard behind Nick, rolling until she stopped at Ice’s feet. He helped her up as Miss Conduct and Pyro Storm appeared on either side of Nick.

“Better than we thought,” Ice said, voice cold.

“Underestimated,” Smoke panted as she stood. “We will not make that mistake again. Finish this.” She took Ice’s hand in hers, raising them both toward the others. And though Nick couldn’t see their mouths, he thought they were both smiling.

Black clouds mixed with particles of ice as the alley rumbled around them. The door rattled and the lightbulb burst, sparks raining down as darkness fell. Nick took a step back as Ice and Smoke rushed toward them, hands still joined, the black cloud mixing with the ice and forming a gigantic wall in front of them, scraping along the ground, streams of black trailing behind it. He raised his hands in front of his face and screamed. A sharp pain lanced through his head, a pressure, as he waited for impact.

It never came. He cracked open an eye, wondering if he was already dead. He wasn’t.

Smoke and Ice were frozen mid-step, eyes darting wildly from side to side, still holding hands behind the wall of ice and smoke.

“What the hell?” Pyro Storm whispered. He looked around and raised his voice. “Who’s doing that? Show yourself!”

“Uh,” Nick said, grimacing. “I think it’s … me?”

Pyro Storm jerked his head toward him. “What?”

“Maybe,” Nick said, looking down at his hands. He raised them again, pointing them toward Ice and Smoke. He flexed his fingers, and the wall cracked furiously before shattering, ice turning to powder as the smoke blew away. “Holy shit, it is me! Suck it, you dicks! I’m an Extraordinary, and I’m going to kick you in the freaking balls.”

The pressure in his head released, the pain falling away. Ice and Smoke stumbled forward, both gasping.

“Oh crap,” Nick said, eyes growing wide. “No, come back! Turn on again! Powers, if you don’t activate, I’m going to—urk!”

His arm was almost torn from his socket as Pyro Storm pulled him at a run, heading for the mouth of the alley. “Miss Conduct, go!” he cried over his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you to—”

“We’ll draw them out into the street, but you’ll be seen! Get out of here!”

Nick looked back in time to see Miss Conduct turn completely into electricity, her body morphing into arcs of blue. One moment she stood in the alley, and the next, she flashed like lightning, rising off the ground and hitting the cord that held the broken light bulb. Her body shrank as she hit the filament of the bulb, and then she disappeared, the cord shaking as if …

As if she’d turned her entire body into a current and was riding the power line.

“I love drag queens,” Nick managed to say as they ran toward the street. Ice and Smoke chased after them, Ice jumping to the side of the building and running along it, Smoke turning into just that, a gigantic cloud that roiled toward them.

“Move!” Pyro Storm shouted, and Nick turned his head to see a crowd of people gathering near the mouth of the alley. “Get out of the way!”

People screamed and jumped as Pyro Storm raised his hand in front of him, fire bursting from his palm and forming a rail of sorts that snapped and crackled along the street. “Hang on!” Pyro Storm bellowed at Nick.

“To what?” Nick screamed back.

“To me,” Pyro Storm snarled, and then jumped even as he hurled Nick forward. He didn’t let Nick’s hand go, and the momentum caused Nick to fly in front of Pyro Storm, his shoulder protesting angrily as Nick snapped back against Pyro Storm’s front, an arm wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly. Pyro Storm landed on top of the fire covering the ground, and like Ice had done, began to skate along it. Wind whipped around them as they flew by the crowd of people, their faces pale, eyes wide, many of them shouting in warning, even as they held up their phones to record.

“How are you doing this?” Nick demanded.

“Practice,” Pyro Storm said, and Nick did not swoon.

He looked back over Pyro Storm’s shoulder to see Ice and Smoke chasing after them, ignoring the people on the street. Horns honked as Pyro Storm deftly weaved between stopped cars, riding the rail of fire. Faces pressed against windows as they flew by, quick flashes of wide eyes and open mouths.

They had half a block’s distance on Smoke and Ice when a taxicab’s door flew open right in front of them. “Oh shit,” Pyro Storm had time to breathe, but it was already too late. Pyro Storm spun around in an apparent attempt to lessen the impact, but it did little as they crashed into the door. The breath was knocked from Nick’s chest as Pyro Storm grunted painfully, the door snapping off in a metallic shriek, the cab spinning and colliding with another car. The cab driver managed to pull his legs back in at the last second, and his sneakers were the last thing Nick saw before he was flying.

He hit the ground hard, rolling until he crashed into a parked delivery truck. He blinked slowly, his body coming back online and cataloguing the scrapes on his knees and arms. Nothing seemed broken or dislocated, and he groaned as he lifted his head in a daze.

Pyro Storm was a few feet away, already climbing to his feet. He looked toward Nick, shouting something that Nick couldn’t hear above the thick buzzing in his ears. Waving him off, Nick pushed himself up, grimacing at the bits of road embedded in his skin. His hood managed to stay up on his head, but his jeans were torn, and his Chucks were scuffed beyond recognition. All in all, Nick wasn’t having the best Holy Crap, I’m An Extraordinary! day.

Fire burst near him, and he looked up in time to see Ice descending on Pyro Storm, glittering spikes hitting a wall of flame, causing them to melt instantly. Pyro Storm pushed the fire toward Ice, who backflipped off the top of a car, the fire slicing the air underneath him. He landed on the ground, eyes narrowed as people screamed around them but made no move to leave, their phones up and recording.

God, people could be so damn stupid. Why weren’t they running? Nick rushed toward the closest crowd, waving his hands above his head, shouting at them to get back. He was almost to the sidewalk when a black cloud bloomed in front of him, and Smoke stepped out of its center. Nick skidded to a stop.

“You,” Smoke said. “I don’t like you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Nick snapped, sounding braver than he felt. He froze when Smoke brought her right arm up against her chest before snapping it back down to her side. A thin column of black coiled from her hand, almost like a whip, the end curling on the ground at her feet.

“Well, shit,” Nick said weakly.

“Indeed,” Smoke said, and then she snapped the whip directly at Nick’s head.

He yelped and ducked, hearing the whip carving the air, missing the top of his head by inches. Nick panted as he stood upright. “Is that all you’ve got? Who do you think you’re messing with? Goddamn amateurs. You don’t come into our city and—”

Smoke swung the whip above her head before lashing out again. This time, Nick wasn’t quick enough. The whip struck him in the chest, knocking him back against a parked car. The whip slithered around him before he could recover, pinning his arms at his sides. He struggled to break free, but it was too strong. It was like shadows. Like Owen. Like Nick was on a bridge, his father screaming from below in terror, Shadow Star cackling as he lifted large sections of Nick’s fanfiction wholesale.

Nick bellowed as the smoke band tightened around his chest, his ribs creaking. He was barely able to turn his head toward Pyro Storm, only to see Ice standing with a terrified man in his grasp, Pyro Storm’s cape billowing as he pulled himself to his full height.

And Nick knew, then, what this would mean. He found himself in a position Seth Gray had nightmares about. A choice. Pyro Storm had to make a choice about who to save.

“Please,” the man pleaded, struggling against Ice’s grip around him. “Help me.”

Pyro Storm looked back at Nick, Smoke’s cloud making it hard for Nick to breathe.

“No,” Nick gasped. “Save him. Save him, you hear me? Don’t worry about—” He gagged as the pressure in his chest increased tenfold.

Pyro Storm made his decision. He came for Nick, leaving the man trapped in Ice’s hold.

Smoke didn’t see him coming. In a burst of fire, Pyro Storm charged, shoulder dropped low as he collided with Smoke, knocking her down. Before she hit the ground, her body evaporated into a black cloud, and when the smoke cleared, she was gone.

Nick stumbled forward, falling to his knees against the sidewalk.

“Nicky. Nicky!” Pyro Storm was there, crouching next to Nick, helping him to his feet. “Are you all right?”

But Nick never got the chance to answer. The man in Ice’s grasp tried to break free, elbowing Ice in the stomach. Ice repaid him in kind by backhanding him across the face. The man fell to the ground and landed on his arm, which broke with an audible snap. Ice raised his hand toward Pyro Storm and Nick. But instead of blasting them with ice, he wiggled his fingers in a sick approximation of a wave. Then he turned and ran, people scattering in fear as he reached the sidewalk and disappeared down an alley.

Others rushed forward toward the injured man, helping him to his feet, his broken arm clutched against his chest.

Sirens in the distance, though already far too late.

Nick grabbed Pyro Storm’s hand. “We have to get out of here. We gotta go now.”

Pyro Storm didn’t move.

“Seth.”

Pyro Storm turned his head. Nick couldn’t see his eyes, but his bottom lip was trembling. “We’ll figure it out,” Nick muttered. “Come on. We need to leave.”

And so they went, leaving the destruction in the streets behind them.