Page 19 of Overpowered


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“Maci,” he says. And it isn’t at all the way he normally says my name. It isn’t happy or relieved to finally be speaking to me. It’s not even sad or mournful. It’s…I glance up and find everyone watching me with curious expressions. Max’s big head is squashed against my ear as he tries to eavesdrop. He doesn’t need to be this close though because Dad’s voice is so loud it echoes throughout the tunnels. “Would you like to tell me why we suddenly have a pet dog? Oh yeah, and why my supposedly dead daughter is sitting in my office, wearing your pajamas?”

Crimson and Nyx want blood. Max makes a series of arguments for why they shouldn’t immediately turn in Nova for depowering. They’re such compelling reasons, they had to have been rehearsed ahead of time. Probably the same excuses Max tells himself all day long. The thing is, Heroes are brave and pure and just. They see things as black and white. They’re loyal to the Hero cause. I’ve taken all the same training as they have but I don’t think the same way they do. I now know that’s because I have the evil DNA. I am the evil twin.

Born evil but not raised evil. I can see beyond black and white and into the grey area that encompasses my sister’s life. Yes, I am a Hero and I am loyal to protecting innocent lives from harm. But I will not condemn my sister to death when I don’t believe that she is guilty.

We arrive at my house a few seconds later, all of us having ran the entire way here. My breathing is labored but that isn’t from the run. I am terrified of what my friends will do to Nova.

Crimson touches my shoulder when we walk inside the living room. The sad smile on her face is neither comforting nor helpful. Is she smiling because everything will be okay? Or because she feels bad for making me watch when she captures my refugee?

Nyx radiates power as he trails on Max’s heels through our house, down the hallway and into Dad’s office. It’s because of Max’s severe shoulder width that he’s able to prevent Nyx from slipping around him and getting there first.

The scene is so weird it’s almost comical.

Dad’s office, with giant mahogany desk and walls of bookshelves, plaques and photos. Nova standing in the corner, chest heaving, arms held out with palms facing the floor. She’s ready to fight if it comes to that. Chewy is completely unaffected--he’s curled up next to her foot, sleeping with his head on her toes.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were released?” Max says. I shove past him and Nyx and find my father in a wheelchair next to his desk. He wears a set of sea green hospital scrubs. Words fly out of my mouth without a second thought. “Daddy you’re home!” I haven’t called him Daddy since I was five. But there’s time to be embarrassed about this later. Right now, all I care about is--

I stop just short of throwing my arms around him. Dad’s formerly handsome face is marred in fresh wounds, kept gooey in the medical ward and not allowed to scab over like what happened with my arm when I didn’t take care of it. Veiny red rips of shredded skin trail up his neck and face, leaving behind the flesh of a depowered man.

That’s what hits me next

. Dad’s power is gone. I’m a few inches away from him but I feel nothing. He’s just a human now.

I can’t even tell what kind of expression he makes. His eyes are watching only me in this room of people. Dad brings his hands together in front of his lap. They’re covered in gauze, as the rest of his body probably is, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to sit in that chair. He takes in a deep breath. The whole room is silent.

“Explain.”

“Um,” I start, glancing around the room. Crimson wields a pair of Retriever hooks, aimed straight at Nova. Nyx stands rigid with Max’s hand over his chest, holding him back from moving forward. My brother is massive but Nyx is quick. I don’t know who would win in that fight. I’m glad it hasn’t come to that yet.

“She saved my life. I had to go find her, so I did. I couldn’t let them kill her.”

“She’s already been announced as dead,” Dad says. “Why would they lie? Central doesn’t lie.”

Max shakes his head. “Not lately. Since you’ve been...incapacitated...things have changed.”

“That’s true,” Nyx says, his power coursing strong and unleashed under his ribcage. “But the rules are still in effect. She’s a wanted villain. She needs to be turned in.”

“NO.” I clear my throat. Irrational whining won’t win me any fans here. “No. They’ll kill her on sight. They won’t hear her out.”

“What does she need to say?” Nyx says. “She broke into Central with her buddies and they killed people. The punishment is death.”

“Dad, she’s not a villain. She was forced to do the things she did. You have to understand that.” Max drops his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s also lowered his arm from its protective barrier on Nyx. Dad watches Nova for a few moments that feel like they stretch on for years. When he blinks, the slash in his eyelid peels apart for a fraction of a second. He looks from Nova to me and back again. “You are right, Maci. She deserves a chance to prove herself.”

“You’re asking a lot from us, sir.” Crimson. She’s been silent until now.

Dad nods. “I am giving each of you a direct order to remain silent about this girl’s presence here. You will act as if you know nothing of her whereabouts until I am able to convince the elders to reconsider their death order. If I fail, then you will continue with your previous orders. But I am still president. For now, at least.”

“What do mean by that?” Max asks.

“Look at me. The people will not want me as their president when they see what I have become.”

I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. “Nova. You can fix him, right?”

She nods. “So can you.”

I don’t reply to Max’s curious, “What the hell does that mean?” There isn’t a way to explain this other than showing him and I’d rather not waste the time. The brass letter opener on the corner of Dad’s desk will work nicely. “You need to trust me,” I tell my father, right before I stab the letter opener into my forearm.

A mixture of blood and power trickle out of the wound. My lack of skill in stabbing myself made me slice through both sets of veins in my arm, but it’ll have to do. I grit my teeth and drag the metal downward, deepening the wound so more silver pours out. “Hold still,” I tell him, remembering the stinging sensation that burned my arm when Nova did this to me. I can’t imagine how it’ll feel to have his whole body covered.

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