Heat Wave, page 20
Twenty-seven days before Nicholas Bell turned thirteen years old, his mother walked into a bank. She did not walk out.
Skip. Jump, the final, the last, the end, and Nick was seventeen, not yet a man, but close. Summer starting, the future brimming with possibility. He knew what he was capable of, now. He knew what he could do, and it wasn’t about being a hero. It wasn’t about the accolades, the praise, the gratitude. It was about helping people, protecting them, just like his mother had. He had taken her name not because it was known, but because it was her. He was Guardian because she had been Guardian.
He was at home. Texting with Seth about the future. What they wanted. What lay ahead. What they’d do together, because Nick had already lost too much to ever want that to happen again.
Then Dad came home.
Nick tilted his head back on the couch. “Hey, Pops. How’d it go with Cap? Did you guys figure out what it’d take to get licensed for the—”
Dad said, “Nick. It’s a miracle. It’s a miracle.”
“What is?” Nick asked, twisting around, phone forgotten in his lap. He frowned at the look on Dad’s face. Eyes glazed over, mouth slack. If he didn’t know his father as well as he did, he’d have thought Dad was … high. Like he’d taken something. But that was ridiculous. Dad would never. “What are you—”
Then a woman stepped through the open front door. Short blond hair. Tan skin. Jeans. A loose shirt. Jennifer Bell smiled and said, “Hey, kid.”
He wanted to scream, then, just like he had before. It wasn’t possible. This was not his mother. Jennifer Bell was four years gone, and this wasn’t her.
The spark in his head flared to life brighter than it ever had before. Not a star. The star. The sun, light blasting through him, and he raised his hand toward her, raised his hand to knock her through the goddamn door, but she was on him, she moved so fast, a blur of movement, her hands on the sides of her head, Dad just standing there, swaying, eyes distant, and Nick cried out for him as he struggled, yelling at Dad to help him, please help me.
But it was too late.
A tsunami crashed into him, obliterating the past, the truth, words whispered in his ears, saying, “I am Jennifer Bell. I am your mother. I’m here. I’ve always been here. Remember me. Love me. Everything is fine.”
When she stepped back, hands trailing along his cheeks before falling away, Nick grinned up at her and said, “Hey, Mom. I didn’t know you were out with Dad.” For some reason, he thought she’d been … well. He didn’t know where. Upstairs, maybe.
She ruffled his hair. “Doing patrols. Gotta keep the streets safe. I can’t wait until you’re able to join me. You and Seth. Team Lighthouse.”
Dad groaned as he came over to the couch, kissing his wife on the cheek. “You’re both going to be the death of me.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”
Mom winked at him. “He’s just jealous that we have powers and he doesn’t.”
That night, she came into his room, sitting on the edge of his bed. He smiled sleepily at her, and she brushed his hair off his brow. He flinched when she did, but she didn’t move her hand. “Hey,” she said. “I was thinking. Why don’t you invite Seth and Gibby and Jazz over tomorrow? I’ll make lunch. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to talk to them without having to punch some jerk in the face for trying to hurt you all.”
“Your hair,” he said, feeling like a bug caught in a web, the spider coming closer and closer. “Why … why did you cut your hair?”
Her hand stilled on his forehead. “Don’t you worry about that, kid. It doesn’t matter. There are bigger things to focus on.”
He closed his eyes, and the last thing he heard before drifting off to sleep was when she whispered, “Everything is fine.”
He believed her.
11
“I don’t remember,” Seth admitted, arm wrapped around Nick’s shoulders. Nick, who had woken up in the park, surrounded by his worried friends. He’d rolled over and vomited on the grass, Jazz’s hand rubbing his back, Gibby holding Owen against the tree. Seth had given Nick a bottle of water to rinse his mouth out once he’d finished. He’d taken the bottle gratefully, swishing water around his mouth before spitting.
He remembered. All if it. Shards of glass just underneath his skin, embedded, working their way out. It felt as if he’d woken from a long sleep, the kind that left him more exhausted then when he’d closed his eyes.
“I don’t remember either,” Jazz said, face pale. She sat at Nick’s feet, hands on his ankles in a loose grip. He didn’t know if it was for him, or if she was trying to ground herself. Either way, he loved her for it. “She’s always been there. Anytime I think about the last four years, she’s always been part of it.”
“That’s how she wants it to be,” Owen said, hugging his knees against his chest, looking impossibly young. “Makes you think things that aren’t real. She’s doing what she’s doing because my father told her to.”
Gibby shook her head. “But why? If Burke wanted to take out Nick and Seth, why not just have her take their powers away? Why string us all along like this?” Then, “Before. After. I can’t get those two words out of my head. What does that mean?”
“You heard it from me,” Nick said roughly, Seth making a wounded noise behind him. “That’s what I called it. Before she died. After she died. A division between the two.” He glanced at Gibby before looking at Owen with narrowed eyes. “But Gibby’s right. If what you’re saying is true, why do it this way? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Because he has a campaign to win,” Owen said. “Why take your powers away when he can just control you to turn public opinion away from the Extraordinaries? And he wants you to suffer.”
Nick rested the back of his head against Seth’s shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week. “I told you she was acting weird this morning.” He laughed, though he found nothing even remotely amusing. “I don’t know, man. As much as I hate Owen—and I mean really, really hate him—”
“Gee, thanks, Nicky.”
“—it sounds exactly like something Burke would do.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You want it to hurt, you don’t attack head-on. You try and worm your way in and destroy it from the inside out. At least, that’s what I’d do if I was the bad guy.”
“And we’re thankful every day you’re not,” Jazz told him, patting his knee. “You’d make the best villain, Nick. And no, that wasn’t a compliment.”
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Owen said. “Bet you never expected me to be the one to help you. Maybe there’s something to being one of the good guys after all.” He sounded way too pleased with himself.
“If you’re waiting for us to thank you,” Seth muttered, “you’re going to be disappointed.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Owen said. He leaned his head back against the tree trunk. “At least I got through to you. I wasn’t sure if it’d work.” He closed his eyes. “Pretty ridiculous that something like love can break through the hold she had over Nick.”
Nick sat up away from Seth, though he stayed between his legs. He motioned for Gibby to step out of the way. She hesitated but did as asked. Owen opened his eyes and watched him warily. “Why the hell would your father want my mother dead?” The lump in his throat thickened, but he forced his way through it. “They were friends once.”
Owen sighed. “My father doesn’t see people like you do. Not what they can do for each other, but what they can do for him. He wanted her to help him make other Extraordinaries, to figure out how to weaponize them. She refused. He threatened her. Said if she wouldn’t help him, she’d regret it. She still said no. And if she wasn’t going to help him, then she was in his way. So he—”
“Why should we believe you?” Jazz asked. “For all we know, you’re working with your dad.”
“Maybe I am,” Owen said. “Maybe all of this is part of the plan to make you doubt yourselves and each other.” He laughed bitterly. “It’d be what I’d do if I wanted to hurt you the most. But you know I’m right. Whether or not you can admit it to yourselves, some part of you knows I’m telling the truth. Isn’t that right, Nicky?”
But before Nick could say anything, Seth said, “Why are you telling us any of this? You just said yourself this is something you’d do. You hate us as much as we hate you. Why not just let your father get away with all of this?”
“It’s so easy for you,” Owen snapped. “Black-and-white. The good guys and the villains. Nothing in between. It’s always been your problem, Seth. You’d think after all you’ve been through with the NCPD, you’d realize it’s vastly more complicated than you’re making it out to be.”
“That’s because we are the good guys,” Seth said coldly. “And you’re not. It doesn’t get much clearer than that.”
Owen flipped him off, and Nick had to stop himself from reaching out and breaking his finger. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Gray. You’re so hyperfocused on doing the right thing that you miss what’s right in front of you. It always comes back to Nick with you. He’s the reason you became Pyro Storm.” He rolled his eyes. “And I would bet my life that the reason you took off your helmet on prom night was because of Nick, too. No one deserves that kind of devotion, because it will blow up in your face when you least expect it.”
“If you’re expecting us to feel sorry for you,” Gibby said, “then you don’t know us as well as you seem to think.”
Owen scowled at her. “Like I give a shit about that. I’m not…” He looked down at his hands. “Whatever Dad did to me, it changed me. Altered my DNA. I wasn’t an Extraordinary before. I wasn’t born with powers. I took those pills and it gave me the ability to control shadows. And once I couldn’t get them anymore, I thought that was it.” He scrunched up his face, and the shadow of the tree on the grass began to tremble. “But it wasn’t. I can still control shadows.” He raised his hand, and Gibby stumbled back when a shadow lifted off the ground, a slim black tendril that shuddered before it collapsed back into the grass and became the shape of the leaves, the branches above them. “I’m not as strong as I used to be. I can’t stop my father on my own.”
“So you want us to help you?” Nick asked incredulously. “Why the hell would we do that?”
Owen leaned forward, a glint in his eyes Nick didn’t like. “You know why, Nicky. Separately, we stand no chance against him. But together, we might just be able to stop him. You know what I’m talking about. How does it go? It’s easier to stand together than it—”
“Yeah,” Jazz said, a plastic fork appearing in her hand as if by magic. “I wouldn’t finish that if I were you. I’ve gotten a taste of your blood, and it’s made me hungry for more.”
“The note,” Nick said suddenly. “See you soon.”
Owen grinned, and for a moment, Nick could see the boy he’d once been, the one who’d sat with them at lunch for reasons they hadn’t quite understood. If only he’d known then what he knew now. “You got that, huh? Wasn’t sure if you did. Thought Patricia might have intercepted it.”
“Seemed liked a pretty clear threat,” Seth muttered.
“Well, yeah. It was supposed to. I wanted to kill you all. Still do, at least a little bit. But dealing with my father comes first.” Owen puffed out his chest. “Priorities, wouldn’t you know. You’re not the only one who’s learned things since we last saw each other.”
“And you’re expecting us to trust you?” Nick asked incredulously.
Jazz scoffed as she flipped the fork and caught it without looking at it. “You must think we’re pretty stupid.”
Owen burst out laughing. “Oh, absolutely. You guys are the worst. And trust, Nick? Trust? Why the hell would you trust me? That’s dumb.” He wiped his eyes. “No offense, of course. It’s part of your … charm.”
“Not helping your case,” Gibby muttered.
Owen made a face. “What can I say? Old habits die hard.”
“It sounds like a trap,” Seth said. “Like you’re manipulating us just as much as you claim Burke and your stepmother are.”
“Does it?” Owen asked. “Maybe there’s something to the whole trust thing after all. You’ll have to trust me not to kill you.” He grew solemn, raising his hand to his chest above his heart. “You have my word that I won’t hurt the pretty little hairs on any of your heads. Gibby, that includes you, too, even though you don’t have hair.”
“Because that counts for anything,” Jazz said.
Seth pushed Nick forward, standing behind him, knees popping loudly. He held out a hand for Nick and lifted him up. He squeezed Nick’s hand before looking back at Owen, who watched them curiously. “How many others?”
Owen blinked. “What do you mean?”
“If she is who she says she is, and if she can do what you claim, how many others has she cured? Aside from the shape-shifting. And the telekinesis. And the memory alteration. Oh man, are we screwed? Because it sounds like we’re screwed.”
Owen nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. “You’re smarter than I remember. I’m not sure if I like that or not.” Then, without waiting for a retort, he said, “Three more, or at least as far as I know. You know two of them.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Christian and Christina Lewis.”
Gibby frowned at him. “Smoke and Ice?”
“Yep,” Owen said. “Dad has connections. Got Mom in to see them without anyone watching. Mom did the same thing to them that she did to Eve. And now she can manipulate ice and smoke, but if you ask me, smoke is nowhere near as cool as shadows. What a goddamn rip-off.”
“She has their powers now?” Nick whispered, feeling as if the ground was shaking beneath his feet.
“Think so,” Owen said. “I don’t have proof of it, but why else would she have met with them?”
“Who’s the third?” Seth asked.
“I don’t know,” Owen admitted, looking almost sheepish. “All I have is a first name. Martin. Remember the interview where Dad talked about Eve? He mentioned someone else. A man in his fifties. Since Dad lied about when he found Eve, he probably lied about the timing of the man, too. Why mention him if—”
“If she already hadn’t taken his powers, too,” Jazz whispered.
“Exactly,” Owen said. “But I don’t know what those powers are, or what she can do with them.”
“Why stop there?” Gibby asked. “Why not do the same to Seth? Miss Conduct? Nick, even if she’s already telekinetic? Why hasn’t she taken their powers, too? Make them think they never had any to begin with?”
Owen stared at her. “Don’t you know anything about the strategies of war?”
“Must have missed that class,” Jazz said. “It is an elective?”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Why would he have her take those powers when everyone knows who Pyro Storm is? Don’t you think it’d be weird if one day, Seth suddenly wasn’t pyrokinetic anymore? Even people who hate Extraordinaries would ask questions that could lead back to my father. He wouldn’t take that chance. Why run the risk when he can draw you out and make you look like a threat?” He grinned. “Which you fell for. You did more for his campaign in ten minutes when you crashed his rally than six months of politicking. So, if that’s what you were going for, good job.”
“Still doesn’t explain why your mother didn’t try and make things easier for herself,” Gibby said.
“I don’t think she can,” Owen said. “It’s like … okay. So, you know when lightning strikes a power line? It sends a charge through wherever the line goes. Sometimes, it’ll knock out power all over. But most places are outfitted with surge protectors. I think she’s like that. A limit to how much she can take in. Regardless of what else Extraordinaries are, we’re still human. Our bodies can’t handle that much energy.” He raised his hands, bringing them close, the tips of his fingers pressed together. “I think if she tried to take any more she’d…” He made a noise as he spread his hands quickly.
“Boom,” Nick whispered.
“Boom,” Owen agreed. “It’d overload her.”
“How do you know?” Gibby asked. “You have any evidence?”
Owen blinked innocently. “My word isn’t enough for you? How rude.”
“I bet your uvula is so precious,” Jazz whispered. “I can’t wait to tear it out and see it for myself.”
“Cheerleaders,” Owen muttered. “Yes, I have evidence. Heard it directly from the source when I was following her right after Gibby’s graduation. She was on the phone with my father and didn’t know I was listening in. After she ate Ice and Smoke’s powers, it nearly killed her. Too much all at once. Dad was trying to convince her it was just a fluke, but she said that to do more, she’d have to give up something she’d already taken. Dad wasn’t too happy about it, but from what I could gather, he seemed to listen. Why would he do that if she wasn’t telling the truth?”
“Then why don’t you do us all a favor and let her take yours?” Jazz asked. “Then we’d be rid of her and you.”
“Aw, Jazz,” Owen simpered. “I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t,” Jazz retorted. “Stay there. If you move even a muscle, I’m going to make you regret ever being born.” She stood, motioning for the others to follow. Nick leaned heavily against Seth as they walked away from the tree, Gibby bringing up the rear.
Once they were out of earshot, they stopped, forming a small circle, heads bowed close together, shoulders touching. Nick took solace that—even in the face of this fresh wave of bullshit—his friends were with him.
Which was why he said, “I don’t trust him. None of us should. But I need you to trust me.” He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. “He’s telling the truth, at least about my mother. I don’t know about all the rest, but I remember. Please believe me.”
He opened his eyes when he felt them grab his hands. Jazz to his right. Seth on his left. Gibby wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. “We do,” she said quietly. “We may not remember like you can, but we trust you, Nicky. Always have. We don’t need to believe him because we believe in you.”
