TORY:
Most of Diane’s business was conducted in city hall. She still used this office often, though she was careful not to store sensitive or classified information on her personal devices. A collage of family pictures played against the digital corkboard of her smart wall.
Tory’s heart grew heavy and soft at the sight of the photos. His dad, James, carrying a small blond boy on his back as they strolled through Gale City’s park. The boy was trying to grab a tree branch, eyes full of wild, chaotic glee, one hand gripping a clump of James’ dark brown hair, while James grimaced and tried to keep the child on his shoulders. His bite-size self was adorable and demonic.
A later photo depicted his dad holding a newborn infant in his arms. Petunia, six years old and wide-eyed, rested her head on her dad’s shoulder and cooed at the baby. Eleven-year-old Tory was crouching like a gremlin on the hospital bench, fist-pumping.
He turned his attention to the physical framed pictures on the real wall, just above the desktop. A silhouette of a broad-shouldered, caped hero poised on the clouds, dynamic and magnificent, blue and gold colors warmed in the sunlight. The golden caption on the frame said Dynamus.
He liked his dad better without the golden mask.
His mom turned from her desk and caught him staring at Dynamus. She smiled a little, and it was one of the most tired smiles Tory had ever seen.
“Darling, thank you for putting those two to bed.”
He shrugged. "No problem. Look, I know you wanted to do an interview tomorrow for Everlux, but I really don’t want to.”
She shook her head. “I know, darling, interviews aren’t fun. But they’re the vegetables of high society—if we want to do well, we have to do them.”
Tory couldn’t really argue with that.
“They are just going to dramatize everything. And I feel like Vent—he wasn’t—something about the whole situation was wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“He wasn’t himself. Vent’s a good guy. I’ve fought with him before. It makes no sense that he’d attack some random kid at a random house party.”
She sighed. “Darling, did you see his secret identity?”
“...Yes.”
“Then you know it wasn’t a random house party to him.”
She scooted back in her hovering computer chair and showed him her holo screens. She had files on Vincent Ramos: “Vent” pulled up on her screen. There was a skill web of his abilities beside an analysis of the silhouette of his broad, built body.
Below that was a list of past severe injuries and medical treatments, as well as current medical issues. On an adjacent screen, there was a brief list of Guild Code infractions. The list mostly included unregistered supersuit modifications.
Tory was a little shocked that she had access to this information at home. Hero identities were top secret information. He knew she would have access to it because of her position as a guild council member and as mayor, but right at home?
“Vent is very loyal to the Paragon Guild and its code, and darling, the guild is not a big fan of me.” She led him to sit down on the stool beside her. “I’m on the guild’s council because I twisted people’s arms and jumped hoops to get there. Many of them do not want me on it because they don’t want a mayor they don’t agree with to have that much power over their own realm. They don’t want me to touch their toys.”
Tory nodded. What did that have to do with him and the party?
“Vincent Ramos knew you would be there because his son was planning the party. He decided he wanted to hurt you somehow, to get to me. Someone must have asked him to.”
Tory felt like a pitcher of ice water had just been poured over his head. What?
He had known Martin and his dad for years. They’d never been particularly close, but they were good teammates, and his dad always brought the best snacks to games when they were kids and treated Tory kindly.
Tory had seen Vincent’s face, too. He’d been confused. Horrified at what he’d done.
“No, Mom, that doesn’t make any sense. Vent wasn’t in control somehow.” He explained what he’d seen in more thorough detail.
His mom nodded, her eyebrows furrowing. “Oh. That is not good. Perhaps the person...didn’t ask him to do it.”
Tory nodded. “Is there anyone in the guild with the ability to force people to do things against their will? Like, hypnotism or something?”
She shook her head. “No. Not with superpowers, anyway. But I’ll keep my eye out. I want you safe.”
He smiled, relieved.
“Now, go get some sleep. I need you well-rested for the interview tomorrow.” She turned back to the desktop and opened more files, the discussion over.
His heart fell.
Tory went to his bedroom and closed the door behind him, his gaze sweeping over the familiar piles of laundry scattered across the floor and the overstuffed garbage bin. His smart wall was filled with digital reminders that he hadn’t updated in months, including a reminder from February about a comic coming out that he had been waiting for on pins and needles since its announcement. He had bought the comic the day it came out, but it remained unopened on his tablet.
The most organized thing in his room was his mom’s diet calendar. It chimed needily for him to make a daily entry.
He walked over to the wall and pressed a blue bubble that appeared next to the calendar.
Breakfast?
The text appeared next to a blank text box. He tapped the text box. Two options came up.
Planned meal: Electro-fit Health Smoothie and ½ cup of mixed nuts
Other
Tory selected the planned meal.
He did this with lunch, dinner, and snacks. The Heroic Diet app chimed cheerfully, and a cartoon of a hero with a cape with a triangle-shaped body swooped into view.
Congratulations on completing your 425th daily entry! Your Streak: 38. You are one step closer to completing your goal!
Tory rolled his eyes and went to bed. He pulled up the covers and prepared himself for the usual onslaught of nightmares.
ALEX:
Alex went to bed after being chastised thoroughly by his parents for intervening.
He was lucky. He could have died.
But I didn’t, he wanted to shout back. I kicked Vent’s ass.
He didn’t want to hear them tell him that he was just lucky, even if he was.
That night, in all of the commotion, Uncle Xavier had come over to stay. He was worried that Alex would need healing, and he was relieved when he didn’t. Alex tried not to be personally offended by all of the concern—they loved him. He knew. He just…
He didn’t need their help.
In the morning, Alex stumbled into the kitchen to find that Xavier and his dad were already arguing.
Xavier twinned Eric in most ways—deep brown skin, curly hair, high cheekbones, a gentle smile—but there were some key differences. He was a couple years younger, a bit shorter, and leaner. Instead of being shorn on the sides and curly at the top, his hair was in locs, which were currently tied up in a loose bun.
His eyes were currently the color of cut rubies, his spectacles flashing like a glass case at a jeweler’s. Most of the time, they were the same deep brown as Eric’s, but sometimes, when he got passionate, they changed color. It made blending in difficult sometimes.
“You almost shot me with that thing. You need to work on your aim before you bring it out into the field again,” his dad was saying, stirring pancake batter. “Tranquilizer darts are expensive, too—you can’t waste them.”
“If I had shot you, it would have been fine. They weren’t lethal. You’d get a nice twenty-minute nap. Honestly, you could use more naps.”
Eric stared at his batter, watching it fall off his whisk for a moment like he was studying its viscosity. It was a little runny. “Vegan pancakes are weird. You know—a tranquilizer dart nap? That is almost tempting.”
“I don’t like laser guns—they’re too lethal. I don’t like swords, plus, I don’t want to steal my brother’s whole thing. My power is healing, so that’s no help. Tranqs are the best option.”
“Sweet breezes, X, why do you have to be out in the field if you don’t like killing shiftbeasts?”
Xavier made finger guns. “Because I do what I want.”
“I feel like I lose some brain cells every time you walk into this apartment.”
“Rude.”
Alex snickered into his hand, and Xavier turned his glare to him, then grinned. “What? You think I’m stupid, too?”
“Wha-at? No, never.”
“Hmm. Didn’t I just hear about you trying to fight a whole-ass supervillain last night?”
Eric set down a stack of pancakes and some butter in front of them. “Vegan pancakes, regular butter. I think I have some margarine you can have instead. Also, watch the language around Alex.”
When his dad had turned around again, Alex and Xavier shared a conspiratorial smile.
“So? Sounds like you won.”
Pride bloomed in Alex’s chest for just a moment. “I did. It was kind of…crazy. I took him on and kind of won, thanks to Everlux.” He felt his smile falter. “Tory got hurt.”
“Aw. The mayor’s kid? There’s no way Vent will ever see daylight after that.”
A part of Alex immediately hoped that was true—the part that rashly wished death on anything that laid a hand on Tory—but the rest of him felt deeply unsettled. Vent had seemed so…
Well, he just hadn’t been himself.
“Have you ever worked with Vent in the field?”
Xavier sighed and shared a look with Eric. “Well. Yeah, quite a few times. His power is cool.”
“It’s annoying. Do you know what it’s like to fly when some guy has two personal tornadoes?” Eric whisked some new non-vegan pancake batter with a fierce expression.
Xavier nodded. “Good point. I don’t know how you took him out, Alex.”
“He was in an office, so I guess there wasn’t really a great way for him to use his abilities. He just used his…strength.” He frowned. Huh.
In the moment, seeing Tory dangle from the man’s grip over the balcony’s edge, Alex had been horrified. It was like his world was a ball that had rolled to the edge of the universe, and it was about to plunge into unending darkness. His vision tunneled in on his friend’s reddening face. It still made his stomach drop to think about—Tory had been so close to death.
But now, in retrospect, it was all…just strange. What had Vent wanted? To kill him? Why had he failed to do so by the time Alex had opened the door?
Vent’s attack hadn’t been well-planned or executed at all. He should have either taken Tory out of the apartment and dropped him immediately. What had been his goal?
Alex knew that one of the most basic parts of superhero training involved being in an environment where your powers could flourish. People who could fly took their fights to the tops of buildings, people who couldn’t stayed low.
But Vent hadn’t done that. He hadn’t done anything…remotely sensible.
Why?
He looked at Eric and Xavier, and they met his eyes.
“I know that expression, Alexander Hale.” Eric chided with a spatula. “If you even think about asking questions or poking around in paragon business, you’ll be grounded. No Tory and no phone until you’re picking out a retirement home. Your mother and I have been very clear on that.”
“But he targeted Tory. What if it wasn’t just a random encounter?”
His expression grew soft. “Alex, Tory is the mayor’s son. This probably isn’t the first time he’s been a target. They have several teams of people dedicated to their safety.”
He puffed his cheeks. “Dad. We have to do something.”
“There’s no we when it comes to interfering in paragon business.”
Alex turned and took in his mom. Her straw-blond hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing huge yellow dishwashing gloves and an apron. “Your father and I will look into Vent. I imagine the entire guild is looking into him right now. You, young man, will go to school on Monday and you’ll keep an eye on Tory. That will be your contribution.”
Alex groaned and frowned at his plate of pancakes. “That’s nothing, though.”
“You mean you’ve already got your eyes on him?” Xavier teased.
Alex held up his fork threateningly. “I am an armed man.” He realized it was his fork, put it down, and picked up the butter knife. “It has non-vegan butter on it.”
Xavier grinned and rumpled Alex’s curls. “Ooh, I remember when I met Adrian. I was so smitten, I failed a college course for the first time in my life because I was always with him. Worth it.”
“Now, don’t tease him.” Rebecca peeled off her gloves and threw them away, then tossed her apron in a small hamper of washcloths. She came and kissed Alex’s forehead. “He likes to pretend he doesn’t see Tory that way.”
“Stop.” Alex covered his face. She ignored his pleas and went into the kitchen.
“I smell bleach,” Eric sang to his wife, and she grinned.
“I smell pancakes,” she sang back. He kissed her forehead, dancing around her so that his food-splattered apron and her cleaning grubs did not meet. “The bathroom is now an acceptable venture for Xavier.”
“You spoil me,” Xavier tutted.
“We’re a five star kind of joint around here,” she replied.
Xavier turned to Alex, his expression conspiratorial again. “Now the person I would investigate, personally, is that Everlux guy. Sounds like he showed up out of nowhere. Awfully convenient.”
Alex nodded, his mind turning over Everlux’s presence. That had also been weird. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Everlux was, somehow…
Well, he just hadn’t been what he expected.
Alex had been around a lot of heroes in his life—real ones—and despite media training and charisma coaches, a lot of them still came off as complete assholes. Even the ones that put in honest hero work and refused to be commercialized, like his parents and his uncle, were sometimes obsessed with getting credit and looking good, and completely dismissive of people like Alex.
People who didn’t have powers.
“What’d you think of seeing Gale City’s most popular hero in the flesh?” Xavier asked him, prompting him out of his thoughts.
“He was…” Alex frowned. “...short?”
Xavier and his parents laughed.
"Listen, jokes aside, I don’t want you around Everlux," his dad said. "Most of what he posts about online is fake. He’s... well, a complete social hero and an embarrassment to heroes everywhere. Takes credit and honor that he doesn’t deserve.”
“I doubt he even does patrols,” Xavier said. “And that’s why it’s suspicious that he was suddenly there.”
“Alright, alright. Enough work talk.” His mom sat down with her plate of pancakes. “We need to get one of those bathroom-cleaning androids, honey. I’m tired of cleaning up after two grown men.”
Alex coughed on his bite of pancake. “Okay. I’m going to my room. My embarrassment quota is filled.”
“Make sure you come say goodbye when we head off on our patrols in an hour,” Rebecca said as he scooted off his stool and sauntered away.
“Kay!” He shouted back, then shut himself in his room.
He opened his closet door and walked inside.
He had a small path along his hanging clothes—a remarkable amount of black and gray band t-shirts for bands that he would never hear in concert. He pushed aside the long black jeans hanging in the back and sighed at the locked suitcase underneath.
His hand rested on it. He played with the latch that kept it closed.
“No. No.” He shook his head. “I’m letting yesterday go to my head.”
He backed out of the closet and shut it behind him.
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