Flash Fire Page 17

  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 clo
ud swirling into the air. The force of his movement caused Pyro Storm to overcorrect, 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.”