Heat Wave, page 27
“What was that?” Chris asked.
Nick didn’t look at him. He only had eyes for Dad, going over to him and crouching down before him, taking his father’s hands in his own. Dad gripped him tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Dad asked gruffly.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Nick whispered. “But no more secrets, yeah?”
Dad pulled his right hand free, wrapping it around the back of Nick’s neck. “No more secrets, kid. I can handle it.”
Nick nodded. He took a deep breath, knowing he was about to break Dad’s heart even more, but powerless to do anything to stop it. “She … the bank. The robbery. It was all a ruse. Burke ordered those men there. She—Mom wouldn’t help him. He wanted to use her. She refused.” He swallowed thickly. “So he had her killed. It was Burke, Dad. He might not have pulled the trigger, but it was on his orders that she died.”
People began to mutter around them, but Nick didn’t look away from Dad, who exhaled explosively as if the breath had been knocked from his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers on Nick’s neck digging in. When he opened his eyes again, they were wet, pained, but clear. “I … okay.” He gritted his teeth together. “I always thought there was more to it than we found out.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said again.
Dad shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, kid. If anyone needs to apologize, it’s me. I was the one who brought Burke into our lives. I was the one who thought he could help us. Help you. If I hadn’t…” He made a strangled noise, whatever else he wanted to say lost.
“It’s not your fault,” Martha said, causing both Nick and Dad to look at her. She smiled sadly, Bob nodding in his seat next to hers. “Not you. Not Nick. Not anyone here. It’s all on Burke, and we’ll remind you of that as long as you need us to.” Her smile faded slightly. “But that does raise some concerns.”
“About what?” Seth asked.
“Whether we’re thinking with our heads, and not our hearts,” Bob said, and Nick loved him for making it about all of them, not just Nick and Dad. “Stopping him is one thing, especially if it’s for the greater good. But if this is revenge, we’re going to fail before we begin. Anger changes a person. Blinds them, leading to mistakes. And the stakes are too high for that. I trust you, Nick. I won’t pretend to know what you and Aaron must be feeling right now, but I know what grief does to a person.”
“Jazz asked the same thing,” Nick said, glancing at his friend, who nodded at him, encouraging him on. “If I’d answered right away, I’d have said hell yes, it was about revenge. And I’d have meant it.”
“But,” Dad said.
“But then I remembered what someone did for me once, even though I didn’t know it at the time. I needed something to believe in. I needed a hero. And Seth knew that. He became Pyro Storm because he saw how much losing Mom destroyed me. It wasn’t about revenge for him. It was about trying to stop the same thing from happening to anyone else.”
Martha wiped her eyes. “He’s a good boy. The best, really.”
Seth blushed, but looked determined. “If we can stop Burke from hurting anyone else, then we owe it to them and ourselves to try. It’s not just about us, or what he’s done to us. It’s about protecting people, even if they hate us. It’s about making sure anyone who comes after us—anyone who can do what we can but are scared because of the rhetoric—gets to feel safe. Gets to be free to be who they are without fear. That’s why we’re doing this. That’s why we’re Lighthouse.”
“Spoken like a true hero,” Jo Kensington said. “I’m proud of you kids. I wish more than anything it didn’t have to be this way, but it is, and so long as you remember that you’re not alone, I know you’ll do the right thing. With our help, of course.”
“Damn right,” Miles agreed. “Lighthouse, with support from the Dad Squad.”
Aysha laughed. “I’m going to bedazzle the hell out of your shirts. A good team looks uniform, so no one gets to argue.”
“Hell yes,” Trey breathed. “We are going to look so badass.” He frowned. “Wait, back up. What are we saying here? We’re going to … what. Attack them head-on? Who’s going to believe us when Patricia Burke can change the way she looks? Or manipulate people and make them believe things that aren’t real?” He folded his arms. “If you think I’m going to let my daughter walk into a trap, you’re out of your damned minds.”
“Dad,” Gibby said. “I can handle myself. And even if you think I can’t, I’m eighteen now, which means I get to make my own decisions.”
“No one’s saying you can’t,” Aysha told her. “But this is different, Lola. This isn’t Smoke and Ice at your prom, though that was scary enough. This is Burke. We know what he’s capable of. And you do, too.”
“They’re right,” Miles said, and Jazz glared at him. “I can’t speak for Seth and Nick, but there are limitations to what the rest of us can do. The rest of us don’t have powers. Patricia Burke already got ahold of us once. What if she does it again, only this time, she makes you or all of us forget everything? You really think we’re going to put our daughter in that position?” He exchanged a glance with Jo, who nodded. “We can’t take that chance.”
“If we’re going to do something,” Jo said, “and I’m not agreeing to anything yet, why couldn’t Jazz and Gibby run comms in the secret lair like they always do?” She blanched. “Not that I want Seth and Nick in danger, but…”
Gibby and Jazz began to sputter angrily, and everyone else seemed to have an opinion on the matter, voices raised, talking over each other. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat quite loudly that they all fell silent, looking at him. He had his legs crossed, fingers tapping on his thigh. “Hey,” he said. “Thanks for including me. I have no idea what’s going on, and this is some crazy-ass shit, but I like being part of things.”
“I don’t think I know who you are,” Mateo said, squinting at him.
He stood abruptly, going around and shaking hands, starting with Mateo and Chris. “Hi. Hello. Hi. You look lovely. Nice to meet ya. Dig the shaved look, my man. See where Gibby got the shape of her head from. Hello. Hello. Pleasure to meet you. They call me Burrito Jerry. You might’ve seen my ride Matilda in the driveway.” He puffed out his chest in pride. “Painted her myself.”
“He helped us,” Seth said. “Jazz brought him on.” It was a little more complicated than that but everyone seemed to take it in stride, much to Nick’s relief.
“And I have questions,” Burrito Jerry said, returning to his seat. “Like, a billion questions, however I think those can wait for now. I can’t move stuff with my mind or set things on fire, but I think I’ve got a way to help, if Jazz and Gibby are up for it.” He looked sternly at the girls. “Only if your parents agree, that is.”
“How?” Miles asked.
“Matilda,” Burrito Jerry said. “I don’t know about secret lairs or villains who can change shape and wipe minds, but I know my lady. She’s sturdy. Plenty of room. Jasmine and Gibby could get whatever they need, and we can park her as close to Burke Tower as possible. Out of the way, but still there in case backup is needed.”
“Mobile Lighthouse,” Nick said, trying to temper his excitement as he stood in front of his father. “Dude, that’s awesome.”
“It could work,” Gibby said thoughtfully. “Might take a bit to retrofit Matilda, but the Fourth is still a few days away. We have time.”
“We do,” Burrito Jerry said. “But again, only if your parents give the okay; they get the final word.”
“Damn right,” Trey said. “And since my daughter pointed out that we have time, we’re not going to make any decisions right this second.” He held up his hand as Gibby opened her mouth to argue. “Honey, I’ll listen to you. I always have, and you know that. But your mom and I need to think about this, okay?”
“Same,” Miles said. “We get you want to help, Jasmine. And Nick and Seth have said repeatedly they couldn’t have gotten as far as they have without either you or Gibby, but we want to make sure we’re going about this the right way with as little risk as possible.”
Jazz whispered something in her ear, and Gibby sighed. “Fine. So long as you remember what we’re capable of.”
Aysha chuckled. “Trust me when I say we know that very well.”
“That still doesn’t explain how we’re going to stop Burke,” Chris said, Mateo’s hand resting on his thigh. “If Firestone is right and he’s going to have Patricia Burke impersonate Guardian, who’s going to believe us? The permit they requested for the celebration said they expect a crowd of at least ten thousand people. The NCPD is giving him as many cops they can without stretching the force too thin. The Fourth of July is busy across the city. Burke’s fireworks display won’t be the only one.”
“Not to mention counterprotestors,” Trey said. “And probably every news outlet in the city. Everyone’s eyes are going to be on Burke, just like he wants. You have the attention of Nova City, you can do anything you want with it.”
“If we can’t have him arrested, what’s the alternative?” Mary asked. “Killing him? Even if that was on the table, what would it solve? It’d only make him a martyr for his cause.”
Nick and Seth went to their friends, standing on either side of them. A team, united. “Tell them,” Seth said, nudging Gibby’s shoulder. “It was your idea.”
“Yours, too, Jazz,” Nick said. “And I know it’s going to work.”
Gibby took Jazz’s hand and said, “You’re right. Killing him wouldn’t solve anything, and that’s not who we are. But there’s a reason Jazz and I want to be there, and not because we want to get in the middle of a fight.”
“Instead,” Jazz said, “we’re going to make him wish he’d never been born. If all goes well, he won’t even know we’re there. We don’t need to destroy Burke, because he’s going to do it himself. And by the time we’re done, no one will believe him ever again. Burrito Jerry, I hope you were serious about letting us use Matilda, because we’re going to need her.”
He nodded. “What’s mine is yours. I got you, girl.”
“Good,” Gibby said. She grinned, razor-sharp. “You ready for this? It has a lot of moving parts, and we’ll need more than a little luck on our side, but Burke has proven he likes to be the center of attention. Might as well give him what he wants.”
Everyone leaned forward. “Tell us,” Trey said, eyes glittering in the encroaching dark.
And so they did.
15
In the days that followed, the heat wave that had held Nova City in its grasp for weeks loosened slightly, the humidity dropping to more tolerable levels, a bit of rain falling and breathing new life into the stagnant, heavy air. Forecasters warned it wouldn’t last, saying the Fourth of July promised to be clear and hot with little chance of the fireworks celebrations across the city being rained out.
Nick and Dad went back to the house midweek, looking at the damage. Repairs were already underway, but it’d be at least another week before they’d be able to move back in. He was surprised to find that it still felt like his home, even with all that had happened. Patricia Burke had violated their sense of security, but that singular event was no match against the history of this house, the memories embedded in every inch of the floors and walls. This was where they’d lived with her. This was where they’d laughed and cried, where they’d argued and then forgiven.
“It’s coming together,” Nick said, watching construction workers rebuild the living room wall, the hole covered in plastic sheeting, the air thick with dust and plaster, so much so it caused him to sneeze.
“It is,” Dad said. He looked a little lost standing in the living room and startled when Nick bumped their shoulders together. “It may not be like it was, but maybe…”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Nick finished for him. “It might even be better. Fair warning: Jazz wants to handle the decorating once they finish. She says she hopes we like frilly pillows.”
Dad sighed. “It’s not like we can tell her no. I don’t want to get stabbed with a fork.”
Speaking of.
Owen Burke had disappeared but Nick didn’t believe he’d left Nova City. He was biding his time, just like the rest of them.
But for what, Nick didn’t know. He didn’t believe for a moment that Owen was on their side, or that they’d seen the last of him.
Dad wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll be all right.”
* * *
The days leading up to the Fourth were busy. Nick went to bed each night in the spare room at the Kensington house exhausted, mind unusually sluggish, body complaining about everything he’d put it through. While Jazz, Gibby, and Miles had worked on Matilda with Burrito Jerry—gutting the back of the van, installing shelving and power sources to keep the electronics running while Jo went through the secret lair, making a list of everything they needed—Mateo and Seth had worked Nick to the bone under the watchful eyes of Mary Caplan and Trey. Dad and Cap had a client list they needed to keep up with, Dad up and gone early in the morning so he and Cap could finish sooner and return to the Kensington home.
“You have powers,” Mateo snapped at Nick after he failed to block an incoming punch for the third time, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. “Why are you acting like you don’t?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Nick panted, bent over, hands on his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Seth circling him slowly, waiting for Mateo’s signal to go again.
“I’m not telling you to hurt me,” Mateo said, eyes narrowed. “I’m telling you to protect yourself. Again. Seth.”
Nick managed to move in time when Seth hurtled toward him, ducking as his arm swung out in a flat arc. Seth didn’t wait for him to recover, jumping on his back, arms wrapped around Nick’s neck, knees clamped against his hips.
“What do you do now?” Seth whispered in his ear.
“Hope the others will leave so I can take off your pants and mine?”
Trey snorted. “I don’t think that’ll stop Burke, but for all I know, his one weakness is skinny white-boy legs. It might be his kryptonite.”
“Gross,” Nick muttered, and then Seth used his weight to pull them both backward, flipping Nick over him, causing him to land on his back, blinking up at fat clouds hanging suspended above him in a deep blue sky. “Oh my god, ow. Why would you do something so awesome, and why did it have to be to me?”
Before Nick could recover, he heard a familiar crackling, and rolled quickly to the side as a bolt of electricity struck the ground where he’d been, singeing the grass. He lifted his head to see Mateo standing, hand outstretched toward him, bright-blue lines crawling along his fingers. It wasn’t a high voltage—Mateo had an envious amount of control—but Nick did not like getting electrocuted.
“Get up,” Mateo said. “We’ve still got work to do. If you’re going to claim to be an Extraordinary, it’s time you start acting like one.”
This was the third day of practice, and Nick had had enough. Muscles he didn’t even know he had protested angrily as he pushed himself off the ground. The spark in his head flared brightly, and as he pulled himself to his full height, he said, “I am an Extraordinary.”
Mateo scoffed. “Really. Prove it.” He pulled his arm back and thrust it forward without warning, a bright-blue ball rocketing toward Nick.
A split-second decision—a single thought: Stop running, face it head-on, I can do this—and the spark in his head burst in a furious explosion. Without thinking Nick raised his own hands and thought of a stone wall, thick and unmoving. The air in front of his palms wavered, then solidified as the electricity struck it. The ball exploded a foot away from his chest as if striking something corporeal. As it began to break apart, Nick pushed with all his might. In wonder, he watched as the electricity—crawling up and down the invisible wall, illuminating his face—seemed to pause, reaching a limit as to how far it could expand. He closed his hands into fists, and the ball reformed, floating in front of him. No pain. Without hesitating, he hurled it back toward Mateo, who caught it, even as it sent him sliding back through the grass, leaving divots in his wake.
“My word,” Mary breathed as Trey’s jaw dropped.
“Hell yes!” Nick crowed, pumping his fists into the air. “Did you see that? Holy shit, I caught electricity. I am the best—oh my god.”
A tornado of fire rose up and around him, Nick in the eye of the storm. The flames were hot, spinning in red and orange, snapping, crackling. He panicked, but just when he thought it would overtake him, a wave of calm washed over him. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself. “I can do this.”
Around him, he imagined another tornado, only this one made of air. Wind began to spin around his feet, crawling up his legs, his hips, his torso, until it roared in his ears, hair whipping back and forth. He pushed again, harder this time, and his tornado expanded, hitting the flames, tearing them apart. The windows of the house rattled, and Trey and Mary fell back in their chairs, tipping over, legs and arms flailing. Mateo hit a pillar on the porch as Seth was knocked off his feet and thrown into a green hedge near the back of the yard.
The fire dissipated, leaving only the smell of smoke.
Nick took a deep breath, pulling his powers back. The spark dimmed slightly, but it did not go out.
Seth sat up in the bush, leaves in his hair. “What was that?”
“That,” Mateo said, grimacing as he pushed himself off the pillar, “was exactly what I asked for, but now immediately regret. Damn, Nick. You’ve been holding back. Good to know.”
Nick grinned even as he helped Mary and Trey to their feet, apologizing profusely. Seth crawled out of the bush, and they began again.
* * *
They did their best. They knew the stakes, that they’d only get one shot to get this right. So many moving parts, and if one failed, the rest was sure to follow. Nick knew his weaknesses. Obstinate. Loud. Opinionated. Never met a word he didn’t like. Chaos personified.
