Flash Fire by T.J. Klune

3

When they reached the living room, Martha and Bob were standing behind the couch, whispering furiously to each other. Dad stood at the window looking out at the street, peering out from behind the curtain like a creeper.

“What happened?” Seth asked, sounding breathless. “Do I need to suit up?”

“Whoa,” Nick said. “Say that again, except slower and with feeling.”

Dad sighed. “Nick, keep it in your pants. We’re about to have guests.”

The doorbell chimed, followed by a heavy pounding.

“Gibby and Jazz,” Dad said, letting the curtain fall back in place.

Nick blinked. “What are they doing here? We weren’t going to meet up with them until later.” They’d planned a double date for Valentine’s Day. He’d been unsure of what was expected of him now that he had a boyfriend, and he’d worked himself into a panic trying to plan the most romantic date he could think of, which involved a picnic in the park and a mariachi band. Gibby had saved him from himself (“It’s February and you want to go on a picnic? Nicky, you’re a disaster.”) and had invited them out with her and Jazz, which Nick had accepted gratefully.

He headed for the door, Seth following closely behind him. When he opened it, he found his two favorite women standing on the porch, huddled close together, both glancing over their shoulders. Jasmine Kensington frowned as she adjusted her ridiculously expensive scarf, her dark hair falling on her shoulders in cascading waves.

“We have a problem,” Lola Gibson muttered, looking grim.

“Hurray,” Nick said. “What now?”

“That,” Gibby said, jerking her head back out toward the street. She pushed by Nick, pulling her hood down to reveal her shorn head.

“Oh,” Jazz said, turning to look out onto the street again. “Yeah. That. So, you’re going to think this is funny. I hope. Then we’ll all laugh about it and everything will be fine and nothing will be bad.”

Nick frowned as he stepped out of the doorway onto the porch. His skin chilled almost immediately, but he ignored it. He looked out onto the street. Quiet—almost unnervingly so. The coming storm was keeping everyone inside. Cars lined both sides of the street, windows covered in a layer of frost. A panel van idled in front of the house, black exhaust streaming from the tailpipe. Faint laughter from somewhere, bright and happy. Other than that, nothing. No cackling villain cribbing Nick’s fanfiction, no death and destruction raining down upon them from above.

“I don’t get it,” Nick said, scanning the street again in case he’d missed something. Seth came up behind him, hooking his chin over Nick’s shoulder.

Jazz pointed toward the paneled van. “That’s a delivery van.”

“Okay,” Nick said slowly. “And what are they delivering? Is it a Valentine’s Day thing?” Oh, crap. Was he supposed to buy Seth a present? He hadn’t even thought of that. Goddammit.

Jazz shook her head. “Remember how we talked about outfitting Team Pyro Storm with new tech?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, looking at the van with renewed interest. “Did you actually do that?”

“Me and Gibby went a couple of weeks ago and picked a bunch of stuff out. We wanted it to be a surprise.”

He squinted at Jazz as Seth said, “What’s wrong? Did they forget part of the delivery?”

Jazz smiled beatifically. “So, here’s the thing. Daddy gave me his credit card, right? And when I’ve used it in the past, I’ve always put in his phone number when placing orders in case they needed to call him to confirm the charges.”

Nick shivered as Seth’s breath warmed his ear. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“The delivery man is very good at his job,” Jazz said. “So much so that he called the phone number on the order to confirm the delivery.”

Seth made a strangled sound as he stepped back.

“And apparently,” Jazz continued, “Daddy didn’t know what the delivery man was talking about because the address the driver gave wasn’t our house, but another address entirely.”

Gibby leaned her head out the door. “Have you gotten to the good part yet, babe? I want to see the look on Nick’s face.”

“I’m about to,” she said before turning back to Nick. “So, Nicky—oh my goodness, look how handsome you are today. Seth, you too! Is that a new bow tie? It suits you.”

“Thank you,” Nick said. “That’s a nice thing to—you’re about to say something bad, aren’t you.”

She winced. “Maybe? So Daddy and Mom were at lunch with Gibby’s parents.” She tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “What were the odds that they’d all be together right when that phone call came? And even though I told Daddy there was nothing to be concerned with, they decided they’re all going to come over and see what’s being delivered.”

“There it is,” Gibby said. “That’s the look I was hoping for: shock mixed with terror. Thanks for not letting me down, Nicky.”

Dumbfounded, Nick turned back toward the street as Seth banged his head against the side of the house.

Two couples were hurrying up the street, the men huddled close with the women.

Miles and Joanna Kensington were in the lead, her arm looped through his. Miles was a charmingly chubby man with thinning blond hair and a devious glint to his eyes, dressed to the nines in a charcoal-gray suit and a red power tie. His long coat billowed around him as they approached the house, his expensive shoes smudged with street grime.

Jazz took after her mother almost completely, with dark hair and dark eyes. Joanna—Jo for short—was beautiful. She seemed to float wherever she went, with an ethereal air about her. She moved like a dancer, which made sense since she’d been one of Nova City’s premier ballerinas in her younger years before retiring when pregnant with Jazz. She wore a suit of her own, tailored to her curves, expertly navigating the slick sidewalks in her heels. Her coat matched her husband’s and was cinched at the waist.

They were followed closely by Terrence and Aysha Gibson, Gibby’s parents, who’d earned the distinction of being the only accountants Nick knew who were also hippies. They weren’t as formally dressed as Jazz’s parents, but Nick had to admit they still looked amazing. Aysha’s hair sat like a billowy crown upon her head, her Afro flecked with bits of snow. Her earrings dangled almost to her shoulders. The collar of her coat was popped up around her neck, and her jeans were bootcut and tight against her legs.

Terrence—or Trey, as he was called—had a shaved head, something he’d done when Gibby had shaved her own head, telling her he was so impressed by her that he had to emulate her style. He grinned widely, as he almost always seemed to do, a serene vibe emanating from him. Terrence was the most chill dude Nick had ever met. Most things didn’t seem to ruffle him. In fact, the only time Nick had ever seen him angry was after some idiot douchebro at school had given Gibby shit for owning her butch identity, and the school had responded with, “Kids will be kids.” Once Trey found out about it, he’d descended upon the school like a gathering storm. Fifteen minutes after walking into the main office alone, he’d emerged, followed by the principal, one of the guidance counselors, and the lead school resource officer. All three apologized profusely to Gibby while Trey watched, followed by Gibby receiving a letter from the douchebro the next day, a hasty yet thoroughly written apology saying that he would never again make fun of the hair decisions made by a person of color—or anyone, for that matter. No one messed with Trey’s daughter.

Nick liked them all, simply because they had brought Jazz and Gibby into the world. And if that wasn’t enough, the two sets of parents had become friends themselves after Jazz and Gibby started dating.

And here they were. Coming to the Gray house. To an unplanned meeting, all about Team Pyro Storm and upgrading the secret lair of an Extraordinary that they knew nothing of.

“Oh my god,” Nick said fervently, feeling the blood drain from his face.

“Yeah,” Jazz said. “Ha ha, funny, right? We have about fifteen seconds to come up with something that will explain why I spent thousands of dollars on electronics without making it look like we’re doing something illegal. Nick, you have ADHD, which I’ve always said was a superpower. It’s time to use that awesome brain for good instead of evil. And … go!”

Jazz was right. He might not be an Extraordinary, but he still had a brain that was different than most. On the cusp of panic, he said, “Team Pyro Storm, assemble! In Seth’s room so we can come up with a plan that explains everything and doesn’t look like we’re drug kingpins laundering money or hackers planning on taking down the CIA!”

They never made it upstairs.

As soon as they got back inside, they were blocked by Nick’s dad standing with his arms folded. “Are we good?”

No, no they weren’t. “Dad! Just the man I was hoping to see. Funny thing happened outside. I need you to be my savior because help.” Nick was not proud of the way the last word squeaked annoyingly.

Dad softened. “Hey, kid. We’ll be all right. I’ve got your back.”

Relieved, Nick didn’t protest too much when Dad pushed by the four of them huddled in the entryway. Dad was here. It would all be okay.

Until Dad saw who was coming up the walkway to the Gray house.

The noise he made was one Nick had never heard him make before. It was the whine of a wounded animal. He froze in the doorway, hand squeezing the doorknob so tightly, Nick thought it’d break off in his hand.

“Trey!” Dad said, voice high-pitched and shocked. “Aysha.” He swallowed thickly. “And Miles and Jo. And some random man I’ve never seen before.”

“Hello!” Random Man said cheerfully, just out of sight. “I’m Geoffrey with Geoffrey’s Wide World of Electronics, though the Geoffrey in Geoffrey’s Wide World of Electronics is my father, not me. I’m only a delivery driver. But no worries, friend. I’m working my way up from the bottom, and one day, Geoffrey’s Wide World of Electronics will be mine!”

“Great,” Dad said weakly, frantically waving his hand behind him, as if he thought Nick and the others should get as far away as they could. “That’s great. A delivery, you say? I don’t know if anyone here was expecting a delivery.”

“Uh, yes we were,” Jazz said. “Surprise! Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” And then she underwent a transformation Nick had only seen a few times before. Her eyes widened to obscene Disney-princess levels, sparkling and wet. Her cheeks flushed as if she could control the blood in her body. She shook out her shoulders, her bottom lip trembling as she stepped next to Nick’s father at the door. “Daddy,” she said, her voice an odd coo. “You didn’t have to come all this way. I told you I would handle it. I don’t know what this is about, but I promise I can fix it.”

“I know you can, sweetheart,” Miles said jovially, climbing the porch stairs, his wife stepping forward and hugging Dad. “But I want to make sure that everything is all right. I didn’t expect to receive a call today about a delivery of almost ten thousand dollars’ worth of electronics to an address that wasn’t our own. I’m sure it’s just a mistake.”

Nick turned slowly to look at Jazz. “Ten thousand what now?”

Jazz shrugged. “Blame Gibby. She’s the one who picked everything out.”

“Thanks,” Gibby said wryly. “I appreciate that.”

Seth was trying to make himself as small as possible, but since he was a beefy sex god, it wasn’t going too well. It took a turn for the worse when Martha and Bob appeared behind him, Bob’s thumbs hooked through the straps of his overalls, Martha holding a plate piled high with cookies. Seth bumped into them and whirled around. With a welcoming smile firmly fixed on her face, Martha muttered, “We’ll get through this together. No one say a word about anything. We’ll figure it—hello! Welcome, welcome! It’s so lovely to see you all again. Please, come in. Have a cookie. Have several cookies. I’ve often found that when your mouth is full, you’re unable to ask questions.”

The new arrivals laughed as they came into the house. Miles kissed his daughter on the forehead before turning and shaking Gibby’s hand furiously. “Gibby,” he said as Joanna touched her cheek. “You’re looking extremely queer. I approve. Gay rights!”

“Thank … you?” Gibby said, pulling her hand away before he could tear her arm from its socket, something Nick absolutely did not recommend. “Gay rights.”

Miles beamed at her. “Exactly.” He glanced at Seth and Nick before turning to Dad. “Aaron! I see you’ve joined the ranks of having your teenager in a queer relationship. If you have any questions, please give me a call. I’ve done extensive research on the matter.”

Dad shook his head. “I’ve already made dental dams out of plastic baggies, so I think we’re—”

“Mr. and Mrs. Gibson!” Nick bellowed. “I haven’t seen you all since … I have no idea. I’m just talking to keep my dad from saying anything he’d regret.” Nick would be damned if he’d let his father’s evil infect the other parental units.

Dad snapped his mouth closed. Good man.

Trey grinned as he helped his wife out of her coat. Aysha stepped forward, her earrings bouncing as she hugged Dad tightly. “Aaron,” she said, “it’s been too long. I brought presents. You’d look good with the hemp choker I made. I opened my own Etsy shop. They’re selling like you wouldn’t believe. Mother Gaia gives only what we give her in return.”

“Mother who?” Dad asked as Aysha let him go, whirling around and marching up to Nick and Seth.

She smiled warmly at them both. “I hear congratulations are in order. It’s about time the two of you figured things out.”

Nick gaped at her. “Did everyone know?”

“Only people with eyes,” Aysha reassured him.

“Hello, folks!” Geoffrey said, appearing in the doorway. He was a slender man with spiky black hair and was rocking pink glasses. “Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but I’ve got a schedule to keep. Geoffrey Senior doesn’t like it when I’m behind. I tried to tell him that something as ridiculous as a schedule shouldn’t matter when dealing with our customers, especially those who spend so much on our products, but what do I know? Nothing, according to him. I have …” He looked down at the invoice in his hand. “Ten boxes for delivery. I see no setup was requested. Is that right?”

“Ten boxes?” Seth asked weakly.

“Setup,” Miles said. “What is it you’re supposed to be setting up?”

“Daddy,” Jazz said, sticking out her bottom lip even further. “I told you I need it for school. You said it was all right, and that I should spare no expense when it came to my education.”

“Right,” Miles said. “Your education is the most important thing. But why isn’t it being sent to our house? Martha! Bob! Look at the pair of you. Picture-perfect. Ooh, cookies.”

Martha thrust the plate toward him as Jo twirled a strand of her daughter’s hair. “Jasmine,” she said, her voice smoky and sweet, “is there anything you’re not telling us?”

Impossibly, Jazz’s eyes grew wider. “Of course not. I tell you guys everything.”

“Mm,” Jo said. “Then why all the secrecy?”

“It’s my fault,” Nick said hastily. “I’m sorry. I thought it’d be best if it could all be sent here, since Seth’s house is central for all of us. Makes it easier to get to. For … school … things.”

Miles nodded, munching on an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. “Makes sense. If it helps all of you, then we’re all the better for it.” He nodded at Geoffrey. “My good man, please bring in the boxes. I’ll make sure you’re adequately tipped after giving you a hand while also regaling you with the story about how I was once in your position, working my way up the corporate ladder until I owned my own company.”

“Far out,” Geoffrey said, suitably impressed. “Help is always appreciated.”

Aysha, Jo, and Trey all followed Martha into the living room. Bob stayed in the entryway, whispering furiously with Dad, both glancing at the teenagers staring at them with wide eyes. They came to some sort of agreement, then turned and walked out of the house to help with the boxes.

“Ten thousand dollars?” Nick hissed at Jazz. “Are you out of your mind? How the hell did you think your dad wouldn’t notice?”

Jazz’s lips thinned to a bloodless line. “It’s only money. If he hadn’t been called, he wouldn’t have even noticed. I’d appreciate a little more gratitude.”

“Thank you for spending a ridiculous amount,” Nick said quickly, not wanting to face her wrath. “And let’s circle back to the whole ‘it’s only money’ thing at a later date, because man, do I have thoughts on that. But what are we gonna do? We can’t tell them what it’s for.”

“It’ll be fine,” Gibby said. “We gotta make them believe it’s for school, like Jazz said.”

“Exactly,” Jazz said. “And if they ask about the night vision goggles, we’ll say they’re for science class.”

They all stared at her.

“What?” she asked. “I had a coupon.”

Nick shook his head. His brain was his superpower. Think. Think. “Okay,” he said, pulling at one of his thoughts until it tugged loose. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll tell them we’re thinking of our education, and that it’s as your dad said: an investment in our future. We’re planning not only for this year or next, but for college too. And beyond. We have an idea for … a project. Yeah, a project.” He began to get excited. “Dad’s the head of the Extraordinaries Division, right? We could say this project is about tracking Extraordinary activity in Nova City for the NCPD. That way, it’s not exactly a lie, more just not … being truthful? I’m still working out the particulars, but I think it could work.”

“Why would we help the police?” Gibby asked. “They already have more money than Jazz’s parents. Didn’t they give your dad a new SUV for no reason aside from his promotion?”

“Oof,” Nick said. “That is absolutely correct. Shit.” He glanced at the others. Jazz snapped her gum before blowing a pink bubble. Seth looked spooked, face pale, hands shaking. Nick went to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. “I know you’re scared, but I’ll protect you, okay? We’ve got this. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Seth shook his head. “Nicky, I’m the one who’s supposed to be protecting all of you.”

Gibby snorted. “That’s crap and you know it. Sure, you can do things that we can’t, but we’re a team, remember?”

“Team Pyro Storm,” Jazz agreed. “The best team that’s ever existed.”

“We stand together,” Nick reminded him, “so we don’t have to struggle apart. You’re not alone in this, okay?”

Seth gave him a shaky smile. “Really?”

Jazz nodded. “It’s going to be fine.”

It was not fine.

Because as soon as the last box was stacked in the living room around them, Geoffrey practically in tears at the tip Miles had given him, Trey said, “So, anyone want to tell us what’s going on? I’m not worried, but I do have a few questions. What’s with all the—”

And Nick—always and forever Nick—blurted, “I’m Pyro Storm!”

The only sound that followed came from the honking of horns out on the street. Then Dad put his face in his hands; Martha said, “Oh my”; Bob took out his handkerchief and blew his nose; Seth moaned quietly; Gibby said, “Nicky, I swear to god”; and Jazz laughed so hard, she started crying.

And that didn’t even begin to cover the looks on the faces of the new arrivals. Trey’s eyes were bulging from his head, Aysha’s mouth had dropped open, Miles was squinting at Nick as if he didn’t understand what he’d just said, and Jo said, “Come again?”

“Crap,” Nick muttered. “Crap, crap, crap.” He needed to fix this. Dig in or pretend it was a joke? He went with the easier route. “Okay. So. Um—here’s the thing? I have superpowers. And I can fly. And create … fire? Yeah, fire. Like explosions and junk. And yes, I know the costume is so last year, but when I tried to make a new one, I stabbed myself and decided the old costume is fine.” He glanced at Seth pointedly. “For now.” There. Fixed. Sort of.

More silence. All the silence.

Then, Miles: “You’re Pyro Storm. That Extraordinary from the bridge who fought against Smoky Guy.”

“Shadow Star,” Nick corrected automatically, even though he hated himself for it. “And yep! I fought against Shadow Star and saved the day.” But since he wasn’t selfish, he added, “But I didn’t do it alone. Gibby and Jazz and Seth all helped because they are good people who you shouldn’t be mad at for anything. It’s all my fault. So. I’m … sorry?”

“Wait,” Aysha said, holding up her hand. “I’m confused. We all saw the footage from the bridge, Nicky. You weren’t the one in costume. You were standing next to Pyro Storm.”

“You’re so observant,” Nick said through gritted teeth. “How fun. That was a … hologram. A hologram I created in order to confuse Shadow Star and gain the upper hand. It only looked like I was two different people because of the advanced tech that we somehow created that I won’t bore you with the details about. I don’t even understand it, for the most part. Story of my life.”

Miles nodded slowly. “But didn’t you—forgive me if this sounds a little forward—but didn’t you maul Pyro Storm? It was very … wet. The wonders of high definition.”

Dad sounded as if he were choking on his tongue.

“Maul?” Nick said, outraged. “I didn’t maul anyone. It was a loving kiss that I placed … upon myself because I … deserved it?”

“Oh my,” Martha said again. Bob folded his arms and grinned at Nick, as if he was enjoying the hell out of this. Nick made a mental note to plot serious yet harmless revenge against him.

Seth said, “Nick, what are you doing?”

He really had no idea. All that mattered was protecting Seth’s secret identity, and if that meant throwing himself at the mercy of parental figures, then so be it. “Look,” he said, trying to hold together the tatters of his completely plausible story, “I know it’s shocking to hear that someone like me could be an Extraordinary—”

“Not that shocking,” Trey said, rubbing a hand over his scalp. “If anyone was going to be an Extraordinary, I’d think it’d be you. It actually makes a lot of sense.”

“It does?” Nick asked. He coughed. “I mean, of course it does, so there’s no need to question anything else. Since you now know the big secret, we can all focus on the important things, like what is up with this weather? Global warming, am I right? Those poor polar bears with all that melting ice. We should be ashamed for treating our only home with such disregard.”

Apparently not giving a crap about polar bears, Aysha turned to her daughter. “And you knew about this?”

“I don’t know anything that’s happening right now,” Gibby said.

“Jasmine?” Jo asked. “Is this true?”

Jazz glanced at Nick before looking at her mom. “If I say yes, are you going to take my Alexander McQueen pumps away?”

Jo blinked. “No?”

Jazz breathed a sigh of relief. “Then, yes. Mostly. Nick is certainly capable of being Nick.”

He didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. He was about to ask for clarification when Seth said, “Nicky.”

He looked over at him.

Seth shook his head. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah,” he said, “I do. Because Pyro Storm—me—needs to remember how important he is. And not …” He frowned. “Not just to me? Wait, that doesn’t make sense.”

Seth reached over and took his hand, squeezing gently. Nick studied his face, cataloguing the shadows under his eyes, the firm set of his jaw. He looked weary and resigned, something Nick never wanted him to be. “Nick,” he said gently. “They deserve to know, especially since their kids are involved. It’s only fair.”

“Fair,” Nick managed to say, that old, familiar feeling of his lungs constricting causing the word to come out choked. “How is it fair that you always have to clean up the messes I make? You only did what you did because—” Because of me, but he couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t finish because his throat had tightened, his breath whistling between clenched teeth.

Nick didn’t see Dad move and flinched when his father knelt before him, gripping his knees, keeping them from bouncing. Nick’s thoughts were caught in a storm, the knot in his head writhing, and that whisper, that caress in the back of his mind, grew claws, digging in. A headache bloomed quietly, and he couldn’t focus, couldn’t—

“Nicky,” Dad said, sounding far away. “Kid, I need you to breathe. Deep breaths, okay? In. Hold. Out. Hold. You can do this. I know you can. Breathe, kid. Just—”

Nick snapped out of his spiral when the floor began to vibrate. The half-empty plate of cookies rattled across the coffee table. The windows shook. Pictures hanging on the walls swung crooked.

Then it stopped.

Everyone looked around. “What was that?” Trey asked. “An earthquake?”

“Maybe it was a train,” Miles said, though he sounded dubious.

Martha and Bob looked just as confused. “Probably a garbage truck going by,” Bob said. “You know how these old houses get.”

Dad, though … Dad’s hands shook as he reached up and cupped Nick’s face. “Did you … you took your pill, right?”

Anger, then. Anger and embarrassment mixed together. He jerked his head back out of Dad’s hands. “Yeah,” he said, not meeting anyone’s gaze. “I did. Like I always do. Every day. I’m sorry my brain makes me say stupid things, but I can’t always control it.” The bitterness in his words tasted like acid on his tongue.

Dad breathed in and let it out slow. “There’s nothing wrong with your brain. There never has been. You’re just … Nick. And that’s a good thing,” he added as Nick opened his mouth to retort. “I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. We can go. We probably should get you some air.”

Nick shook his head. “I can’t. Dad, this is important.”

“Nothing is more important than your health,” Dad said, voice hard.

“He’s right, Nicky,” Seth said, and Nick couldn’t bring himself to look at him. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He sighed. “We have to trust them, especially since Gibby and Jazz are involved. They have a right to know what we’re doing.”

Nick finally worked up the courage to look at Seth.

Seth—wonderful, amazing Seth—nodded at him. He reached out and took his hand again. Dad watched the two of them, an inscrutable expression on his face.

Nick said, “I’m sorry.”

Seth shrugged. “You don’t need to be. You remember when I came out to you? You had my back then. I know you’ll have it now.”

“Please be my friend forever,” Nick said, because it was the only thing he could think of.

Seth laughed quietly. “Forever is a long time.”

“I know, but you’re worth it.”

Seth brought Nick’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it sweetly.

“Oh my god,” Gibby said, and they both jumped. They looked over to see her scowling, her eyes wet. “Stupid boys. I hate you so much. Incoming.”

Nick squawked when she practically tackled him out of his chair, knocking Dad on his butt. He looked over her shoulder in time to see Jazz doing the same to Seth, though much more delicately, settling on his lap, pressing his face against her neck, petting his hair, cooing at him that he was the most precious thing in the universe and that she would destroy anything that tried to harm him. “Are you sure?” Nick heard Jazz ask.

“Yeah,” Seth whispered back. “I think so.”

“We’re with you,” Gibby said.

They were all brought back to reality when Miles cleared his throat. They looked at the adults in the room. Most were smiling, though they looked confused.

“Seth?” Martha asked. “This is what you want?”

Seth helped Jazz up off his lap, and she pulled Gibby along with her, sitting back down on the couch. “It is.”

Bob said, “Whatever you need, kiddo. You want us to do it?”

Seth shook his head. “No. It’s my responsibility.” He glanced at Nick. “And I know I’m not alone.”

“Damn right,” Nick said.

“Team Pyro Storm,” Gibby agreed. She looked at her parents. “Mom. Dad. I need you to listen to Seth, okay? Let him tell it how he wants to. Don’t interrupt. You’ll have questions—a lot of questions—but wait until he’s done. And Seth, tell us if you need us to jump in.”

“Same,” Jazz told her parents.

Seth said, “Watch.” He lifted his palm toward the ceiling. The skin around his eyes tightened briefly before twin flames bloomed above his hand. At first, they hung suspended, the fire crackling. Then they swirled together in the shape of a double helix. No matter how many times Nick had seen it, it still knocked the breath from his chest.

The flames rose up, beginning to spin in concentric circles above Seth’s head.

As a stunned Miles, Jo, Trey, and Aysha looked up in wonder, Seth Gray lowered his hand and said, “I’m Pyro Storm. And this is my origin story.”

By the time he finished speaking, Seth’s voice was hoarse. Nick and Gibby and Jazz had helped as best they could, but it was Seth’s story to tell. He told them of the train accident, the loss of his parents, how he’d figured out at a young age that he could create fire from nothing. There were many accidents, burning things that shouldn’t have been burned. Bob stepped in once or twice, telling the rapt audience that Seth had gotten control of it far quicker than any of them had expected.

It wasn’t until Seth reached the part about Owen and Simon Burke that anyone interrupted. Miles snarled angrily, his wife gripping his hand to keep him from rising. “Those assholes,” he snapped. “If I’d known that they …” He shook his head angrily.

They allowed Seth to tell the rest of the story, ending with the Battle at McManus Bridge. The adults all looked shaken as Seth described fighting their former friend. “And Nick saved Rebecca Firestone,” Seth said. “If it wasn’t for him, she could have gotten hurt. Or worse.”

“Yeah, well,” Nick muttered. “We can’t all be heroes.”

When Seth finished, everyone was quiet. Nick fidgeted, wanting to fill the silence, but he somehow managed to keep his mouth shut. This wasn’t about him. It was about Seth and his endless well of bravery.

He let out a sharp exhalation when Aysha spoke first. “You’re telling the truth; I know you are. But I …” She shook her head. “I’m having a hard time believing it.” She rose from the couch and walked around the coffee table to Seth’s chair. “Up,” she said. “Up.”

Seth stood and grunted when Aysha hugged him tightly, her face in his curly hair. For a moment, he just stood there, arms dangling at his sides. It wasn’t until Aysha reminded him that’s not how hugs worked that he clutched her tightly.

“You’re a hero,” she whispered to Seth, and Nick felt his bottom lip wobble. “You protected all those people. I’m so proud of you, Seth.”

Seth blinked rapidly as Aysha took a step back. A tear trickled down his cheek when Aysha moved out of the way so her husband could hug him too, followed by Jo, and then Miles.

Once everyone sat back down, Seth still looking dazed, Jo glanced at her daughter and said, “You’ve been helping him?”

Jazz nodded. “We’re Team Pyro Storm. We don’t fight like Seth does, but we’re there to make sure he has all the backup he needs.” She pointed at the boxes. “That’s what those are for. To make sure he has the best equipment. We call ourselves Lighthouse. It was Nicky’s idea.”

Dad made a small, wounded noise.

“I don’t understand,” Aysha admitted, looking around the room before settling her gaze on Bob and Martha. “You all knew about this? For how long?”

Bob shifted uncomfortably. “Martha and I have known for a while now. There was always something … different about Seth. We couldn’t quite put our fingers on it. Not until …” He glanced at Martha, as if unsure.

Martha patted his leg. “Not until he accidentally lit his bed on fire. Luckily, it was a small fire that we were able to put out before anyone got hurt. We didn’t know what had happened. It took a little bit longer to get the truth from Seth.” She smiled at her nephew. “He was scared that we wouldn’t want him anymore. As if pyrokinesis would make us love him any less.”

Bob scratched the back of his neck. “We didn’t want anyone else to know. Seemed safer that way. There wasn’t much out there about Extraordinaries—at least, not enough to show us the best way to proceed. We had to figure things out on our own. It was … well, let’s say the process was trial and error, with more error than anything else.” He laughed quietly. “Quite a few singed eyebrows, but we got it under control, didn’t we, Seth?”

Seth grinned at him, though it wasn’t as bright as usual. He was still nervous, and Nick was in protective mode. Seth said, “They grew back, thankfully. There’s a reason we evolved with eyebrows. You looked freaky without them.”

“And you knew?” Trey asked Dad, and now he sounded angry. “You let our daughters get involved with this and didn’t tell us? What the hell, Aaron—where’s your damn head at?”

“Dad,” Gibby said, flushing slightly. “It’s not like that. We knew before Mr. Bell did. In fact, out of everyone who knew before today, he was the last. If you’re going to be pissed at anyone, be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am,” Trey said. “And when did you find out? Last fall at the bridge? Before? That was months ago, Gibster. I get that you were protecting your friend, but come on. You should’ve told us.” He glared at Dad. “Someone should have told us. You say you weren’t involved in any of the fighting, which—fine. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have gotten hurt.” He closed his eyes. “Or worse.”

Alarmed, Nick said, “Seth wouldn’t hurt any of us. He’s in control of—”

Trey’s eyes flashed open, and Nick snapped his mouth closed. “I’m not talking about Seth, though, believe you me, we’ll get to that in a moment.” He glared at Dad. “What happens if my daughter gets pulled into a fight? What happens if the cops come and she doesn’t raise her hands up quickly enough? Or too fast? What happens if a cop has an itchy trigger finger? You gonna tell me you did everything you could to keep her safe? That’s bullshit, Aaron.”

“Dad,” Gibby said, sounding nervous. “Maybe we should—”

“Lola,” Aysha said, and Gibby scowled down at her lap.

Dad didn’t look away from Trey, and though Nick wanted to jump to his defense, he kept his silence. He wasn’t sure if this was his fight, and he didn’t want to make things worse. “I hear you, Trey,” Dad said. “I swear I do.”

Trey laughed, though it held no humor. “You say that, man—and oh, do I want to believe you. But then I remember I’m talking to the cop who assaulted someone in custody, and I don’t know how to reconcile the man before me with the badge he wears.”

“That wasn’t his fault,” Nick snapped. “The guy was talking crap about my mother—”

“Nick,” Dad said, the warning in his voice clear. Nick deflated, picking at a small hole in the knee of his jeans. “Trey’s right. It was my fault. It never should’ve happened. I messed up. That’s on me and no one else. No matter what anyone says to me, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.” He looked back at Trey. “I am that man. I did hit someone in my custody, and I’ve regretted it every moment since. I can tell you it won’t happen again, but I can’t expect you to take me at my word. I have to prove that to you.”

“Damn right you do,” Trey told him, crossing his arms. “But that doesn’t mean shit, given you’re just one person. How many other cops have done the same thing you did and gotten away with it? Yeah, you were demoted, but that didn’t last long, did it? Look where you are now. How much did the NCPD pay to settle the civil lawsuit against you?”

“A lot,” Dad admitted. “It … a lot.”

“And who paid for that?” Aysha asked. “It didn’t come out of the police pension fund like it should’ve. It came from the taxpayers.”

Nick turned his head slowly to look at his Dad. “People pay for police misconduct?”

“Oh, come on, Nick,” Gibby said. “Where else would it come from?”

“I—I didn’t know that.” And wasn’t that on him? He knew what his dad had done, knew that he’d been stripped of his detective rank, but why hadn’t he asked more questions about the fallout? Why hadn’t he pushed his father for more?

“And even with all of that,” Aysha continued, “you still accepted that promotion.”

“I thought it’d be better,” Dad said, voice even. “I thought it’d help me be able to keep an eye on things, to make sure nothing happened to—”

“You should’ve told us,” Trey snapped. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as Aysha took his hand in hers. “Look, I know you were trying to protect Seth. I get that; I really do. And I know down to my bones you’d do everything you can to keep the kids safe. But we’re Black. Looking like me, looking like my wife, looking like my daughter, has gotten people killed for a whole lot less than you were promoted for.”

“You’re right,” Dad said. “Everything you’re saying is true. I won’t try to tell you otherwise.”

“Good,” Aysha said, squeezing her husband’s hand. She looked at Seth, then Nick, then Jazz. Her gaze lingered on Gibby for a long moment before she turned back to Dad. “We’re not saying we’re worried about Seth hurting anyone. But what about other people? Nick, you got hurt, remember? We came to see you in the hospital. We saw what happened with Pyro Storm and Shadow Star, along with everyone else. Who’s to say that won’t happen again? You know who he is, what he can do. And don’t mistake what I’m saying—what Seth can do is magical. But what if someone comes after you because of what you know? Where’s Owen now?” She looked wary. “I mean, my god. He killed people.”

“Owen’s not going to hurt anyone again,” Dad said, and the steel in his voice sent a chill down Nick’s spine. “He’s locked away in a psychiatric hospital. And he’s the only other Extraordinary that we know of. It’s only Seth in Nova City now.”

“But Simon Burke could,” Miles pointed out. “If he’s done half the things Seth said, then why hasn’t he been arrested yet? At the very least, what he did to his own child should be enough to put him away.”

“No proof,” Dad said. “The secret floor in Burke Tower was vacant by the time we got inside. And Owen, as far as I know, isn’t talking. I don’t know if that’s his choice or his father’s, but that’s the way it is.”

“Either that, or Burke’s got cops in his back pocket,” Trey said. He held up his hand before anyone could protest. “Don’t act like that’s not a possibility. An extremely rich white man gets away with almost everything. Hell, he doesn’t even need to be extremely rich for that to happen.” He glanced at Dad. “How many of your colleagues are on his payroll? Moonlighting as security or some other bullshit?”

“I don’t know,” Dad said quietly. “More than a few, I’d expect.”

Trey nodded. “You want to know why we talk about defunding the police? Because of this exact thing. They pick and choose who they protect, whether it’s because they’re racist dicks or because of who’s lining their pockets—or both. If we have any hope for reform, you first gotta break everything down and start from scratch. And you can bitch and moan until you’re blue in the face that we’re talking about getting rid of police completely. It’s not just about that. It’s about holding cops accountable for everything they do.” He scowled. “I’m not saying any of this to tell you how to fix your job, because that’s not my job. It shouldn’t have to be. And it shouldn’t fall on Aysha, either, or Gibby. This isn’t a game. Burke is powerful. If he’s capable of making that evidence disappear in a matter of days, what could he do to our kids?”

Dad said, “This isn’t something I’ve taken lightly. I’ve had the same thoughts about Nicky. And you’re right; it was wrong to keep this from you. Don’t be mad at them.”

“Oh, I’m mad at you,” Trey said. “And I know you feel guilty, but I can’t help but think that it’s guilt about getting caught more than anything else. If we hadn’t come over here today, when would you have told us about any of this?”

“I don’t know,” Dad whispered. “I—”

“We’re not stupid,” Jazz muttered. “We’ve lasted this long, haven’t we?”

“Of course you’re not stupid,” Miles said gently. “But you’re only sixteen years old. All of you are, except for Gibby, and she’s only a year older. I’m not going to speak for Trey and Aysha because I don’t have the right to, but you, Jasmine? You’re damn right I’m going to speak for you, because you’re my daughter. Have you really thought this through? Any of you?”

“We have,” Gibby said firmly. “And we’ll do what we have to in order to protect our friend.” She glanced at them before looking back at her parents. “We’re Team Pyro Storm. We’re Lighthouse. Seth needs us as much as we need him. You can try and break us apart, and maybe you’ll succeed, but we’re not playing around. We know this isn’t a game. We take this as seriously as anything we have before. We need a new form of justice, and I want to be part of that change. I am part of that change, because it’s what you taught me.”

“Lighthouse,” Aysha murmured. “And you—what, sit down in the basement on a computer, feeding him information about crimes in progress? That’s all well and good, Gibby, but what happens next year? You’re going to be leaving for school. You got into Howard, sweetheart. That’s hundreds of miles away. Isn’t it better to have a clean break now, so you can focus on your future?”

The air was sucked out of the room. Nick snapped his head toward Gibby.

“What?” Jazz whispered. “I thought—” She looked at her girlfriend. “You’re leaving?”

“Dammit,” Gibby muttered. “I wasn’t going to—” She shook her head angrily. “I haven’t made any decision yet.”

Trey and Aysha exchanged a look that Nick couldn’t decipher. “What do you mean you haven’t made any decision yet?” Trey asked slowly. “Gibby, Howard is an amazing school. You’ve worked so hard getting the grades you have, and you’re ranked first in your class.”

“You’re what?” Nick asked.

Gibby rolled her eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is,” Jazz said in a hushed voice. “Just because you didn’t want anyone else to know doesn’t make it any less true. I’m proud of you. Everyone else should be too.”

“You’re leaving?” Seth asked, dumbfounded.

Gibby glared at the floor. “This isn’t how I wanted this to come out. I’m still deciding what’s best for me. And since it’s my future, I get to make that decision.” Her parents started sputtering, but she overrode them. “I know you think I need to go to an HBCU like you both did, but there’s more to it than that. And it’s not just about Jazz. Or Seth. Or Nick. Or even Lighthouse. It’s about me and what I want.” The fight went out of her voice, and she folded in on herself. “Doesn’t that matter at all?”

“Of course it does,” Aysha said. “And we’ll support you no matter what you decide, but Gibby, I need you to think—really think. You say it’s not just about Jazz or your friends. That plays a big part in it, though, doesn’t it?”

For a moment, Nick thought Gibby wouldn’t answer. She did. “It does. It’s … we’re making a difference. We’re helping people. That counts for something, right?”

“It does,” Trey said. “But so does your future. Say you stay in the city and go to school here. Are you going to be able to focus on your studies while still being part of Team Pyro Storm? And how long is that going to last? A year? Two years? Ten? Gibster, this isn’t your system to fix.”

“I know it’s not,” Gibby said. “But I want to. Because if anything is going to change, it has to start somewhere. Why can’t it start with me?” She leaned forward, gaze leveled on her parents. “You told me the only reason change happens is because there are people willing to fight for it. I can’t just sit by and let that fight go on without me, not when I can help make things better.”

Trey looked stricken as he said, “I can’t let anything happen to you, honey. I just can’t. You are everything to me.”

“I know, Dad,” she whispered. “I love you too.” She sat back in her chair, and when she spoke again, her voice was stronger. “I don’t ask you for much. I never have. And I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me, which is why I’m asking you to trust me with this. We’re young, yes, but we’re doing good. We’re making a difference.”

Trey sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I want to trust you. I really do. But I’ve been around a hell of a lot longer than you have. I know how these things go. I’m not going to promise anything right now because that’s not fair to any of us. I need time to think.” He glanced at Aysha, who nodded. “We both do.”

“She shouldn’t make any decision based on this,” Seth said. “Gibby, I—” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know if this is even what I want. I can’t be a hero forever.”

Martha put her hand over her heart. “Seth? What are you talking about?”

He shrugged awkwardly, looking impossibly young. “I don’t know. I just … There has to be more than this. I made the decision to become Pyro Storm because someone I cared about needed a hero. He didn’t know that he was already my hero, and I wanted to do anything I could to make sure he never got hurt that way again. And it sort of steamrolled from there, because someone always needs saving, and if I could help them, then I had to. They were—are—my responsibility.”

“You do what you need to do, Seth,” Bob said gruffly. “And if that means hanging up the costume and just being a teenager, then so be it. The city survived long before you came into the world, and it’ll be here well after we’re all gone. Your aunt and I, we’ll have your back, no matter what you decide.”

“Let’s take a step back for a moment,” Miles said. “We need to think clearly about this, and I don’t know if we can right now since we learned about all of it ten minutes ago.” He jerked his head toward the boxes. “Jasmine, only the best, right?”

She nodded, though her face was pale. “Only the best.”

Miles stood from the couch. “Well, let’s see what we have, huh? Might as well make sure everything works like it’s supposed to. What do you say, Trey? Feel up to helping me haul some boxes down to the basement?”

For a moment, Nick thought no one would move. He was surprised when Trey stood, sliding the sleeves of his thick sweater up his forearms. “Can do. I’m not much for computers and junk, but I know how to follow directions and plug things in.”

“He does,” Aysha said, pushing herself up from the couch. “It’s one of the things I love most about him. Jo, let’s go. We should probably make sure our husbands don’t screw this up.”

“Absolutely,” Jo agreed. She followed the others as they began to hoist the boxes and carry them toward the basement stairs.

“I’ll show you where the secret lair is,” Bob said. “Built the pocket door myself, even though some people don’t give it the appreciation it deserves.” He looked pointedly at Nick, who rolled his eyes. After all, it wasn’t his fault for having sky-high expectations when it came to something like a secret lair. At the very least, the door should’ve been outfitted with a retinal scan.

“And I have cookies!” Martha called after them, scooping up the plate from the table. “Everyone who helps will get as many as they want.”

Dad jumped up at that, only pausing when Nick reminded him that he wasn’t getting any younger, and that he’d already had four. Dad muttered under his breath that he was the adult and could decide how many cookies he could eat as he walked into the kitchen. Nick promised him if another cookie went into his mouth, he’d be eating only kale for the foreseeable future.

And then Team Pyro Storm was alone in the Gray living room, listening as the parents grunted and groaned as they descended the stairs to the basement.

Before anyone else could speak, Nick said, “Gibby, I know that look on your face. Do not apologize for anything.”

Gibby sighed as she slumped in her chair. “He went after your dad hard.”

“He did,” Nick admitted. “But someone had to.” He shook his head. “I just … I don’t know, man. My dad isn’t—” He stopped, thinking hard. He’d been about to say My dad isn’t like the other cops, but that wasn’t quite the truth, and it felt both familiar and gross to come to his defense so quickly. Instead, he said, “Your dad was right. About everything.” He looked down at the floor. “And if anyone should be apologizing, it should be me for putting you in this position.”

Gibby rolled her eyes. “I’m capable of thinking for myself, thanks.”

Nick snorted. “Oh, don’t I know it. But still. You deserve to hear it. I really am sorry.”

“I know you are, Nicky.”

“I do feel a bit better, though,” Seth said, and they all looked at him. “Having them know. It takes a bit of the weight off our shoulders. We’ve survived this long, but I don’t know how much longer we could have gone on without them finding out.”

Nick glanced at Jazz, who had an expression on her face he’d never seen before. She looked almost … heartbroken. “Jazz?” he asked quietly. “You all right?”

But she only had eyes for Gibby. “You’re thinking of leaving for school?” Jazz asked her, and Nick’s heart ached at the hurt in her voice. “You never told me.”

Gibby sighed, reaching out to take Jazz’s hand. “I don’t know what I want to do. I didn’t say anything because I haven’t decided yet, and with all that’s happened today, I’m not going to make a decision right this second. But no matter what I decide, it won’t be because I love you any less. No matter where I go, I’m not going to leave you all behind. We’ll talk about it later.” She jerked her head at Nick and Seth. “I promise.”

Jazz nodded, though she still looked upset. Nick could only imagine what she was feeling. He didn’t want to think of a time when Gibby wouldn’t be there every day. And Seth was still thinking about hanging up the suit entirely? It felt like everything was changing, and he didn’t know how to make it stop. And that didn’t even begin to cover what had happened between Dad and Trey. He knew Trey was right, but he didn’t know how to reconcile that with who he thought his dad was.

“Seth,” Nick said suddenly. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Seth nodded. “Yeah, of course. We can go up to my room and—”

“Stay here,” Jazz said. “Gibby, we should go make sure our parents aren’t messing up the secret lair. You know how I like having everything in the right place.”

“That I do.” She stood, pulling Jazz up with her. Gibby slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Nick watched as she whispered in Jazz’s ear words only meant for them as they headed toward the stairs.

Only Seth and Nick remained. Nick gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he looked down at his hands. His heart was still racing, and he thought he might vibrate out of his skin.

“Nicky?”

He looked up. “You really don’t want to be Pyro Storm anymore?”

Seth sighed, sounding frustrated. “I don’t know. I have so much going on in my head, and I can’t—”

His phone beeped a familiar sound that only meant one thing.

Something was happening in the city.

Nick watched as the Seth he knew melted away. His eyes narrowed and darkened, his mouth stretched into a thin line, his jaw and shoulders tense. It wasn’t Seth Gray who jumped up from the chair, pulling his phone from his pocket.

This was Pyro Storm.

“What is it?” Nick asked nervously.

“Accident,” Seth said in a hardened voice. “On the Westfield River. A party barge crashed into a strut on a bridge. I need to get the people off the boat before it sinks.”

Nick nodded as Seth started to get undressed. “Need help? Want me to go with?”

“No. It’s fine, Nicky. I’ve got this. You’d just get in the way.”

That stung more than Nick cared to admit. It wasn’t like Seth was wrong, but it still hurt to hear. “Yeah. Okay.”

Seth sighed, walking over to Nick and lifting his chin with a finger. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He looked so earnest. “I need you here to be my eyes and ears. There’s no one I trust more to do that.”

Nick smiled, and he barely had to force it. “I know. That I can do.” He leaned forward, kissing Seth quickly. “Go. Do good, save lives, that whole thing.”

Seth looked like he was going to argue, but before he could, footsteps pounded up the stairs. Dad appeared in full-on cop mode. This normally made Nick feel better, but didn’t this time. He wondered if Gibby had ever felt … scared because of him. “Seth? We gotta go.”

Seth nodded, stepping around Nick, charging down the stairs to suit up. Nick heard the surprise from the others below them, questions being asked and answered.

Dad was already on his phone, fingers flying across the screen. “You good to get yourself home? I’m going to see if I can help, though Harbor Patrol should already be on it.”

He had to try. “I can go, too, if you want. I can help.”

But Dad was already shaking his head. “We’ve got this. You’d just get in the way. And I … need some space to think. About a lot of things.”

He forced a smile on his face. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Never, kid. I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?” He turned his head back toward the door and raised his voice. “Seth! We gotta go!”

Seth reappeared at the top of the stairs, cursing as he struggled into his costume. He tripped on the top stair, dropping his helmet as his cape fluttered around him. He bent over and picked it up before looking at Nick with wide eyes. “Gibby’s and Jazz’s parents just saw me get naked.”

“Lucky,” Nick muttered. “I mean, oh no. That’s so bad. How dare they.”

Seth gave him a quick kiss before joining Dad at the door. Dad leaned outside first, scanning the street. “Wait. Neighbor. Hold on—okay, they’re inside. Streets are clear. Go.”

In a bright flash of fire, Pyro Storm rocketed off into the sky, leaving a column of smoke behind him. Dad glanced back at Nick. “See ya.” And then he slammed the door behind him as he left.

Nick turned and headed for the stairs. He descended quickly, scowling at the boxes in his way. Thankfully, they hadn’t yet taken down the Systemax yet. Martha saw him coming and handed him the headset. He knew the others were watching him, but they faded into the background. “Pyro Storm, this is Lighthouse. Do you copy?”

“Receiving you loud and clear, Lighthouse,” Pyro Storm said in his ear, his voice a deep rumble, modulated to disguise his identity.

He leaned toward the screen and took a deep breath. A moment later, Jazz and Gibby stood on either side of him. “Good, Pyro Storm. Let’s go save some lives.”