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She raised her hands toward Rebecca Firestone, and Nick moved then, doing something he would have never expected: protecting Rebecca Firestoneagain.And when Patricia Burke screamed, the tornado growing larger, causing the whole room to shake, he answered with his own shout. The tornado hurtled toward them, and Nickcaught it,even as his feet slid back, the muscles in his arms burning. Hands shaking, he forced them together, and the tornado died as quickly as it arrived.
“Thanks,” Rebecca Firestone whispered behind him.
“Don’t mention it,” Nick said, glaring over his shoulder. “Seriously. I never want to hear it mentioned again. You helped us, but you’re still the worst. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take care of some—”
Rebecca Firestone’s eyes widened as she looked over his shoulder. He didn’t have time to react as her hands shot forward, gripping his shoulders and pulling them both down. A secondlater, a metal strut flew right where they’d been standing, slicing through the air, causing it to whistle. It embedded itself into the wall.
Nick gaped at Patricia Burke and the Lovecraftian horror bursting from her back, tentacles of smoke and ice and crystal-clear water pulling more struts from the ceiling, gutting the area above the room. Plaster and dust rained down around her.
“And now you made Rebecca Firestone saveme?” Nick growled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You’re welcome,” Rebecca Firestone muttered.
“I don’t like you,” Patricia hissed.
“Feeling’s mutual,” Nick said, pulling himself to his full height. More fireworks exploded outside the windows, and above the noise, he thought he heard the sound of sirens in the distance. Nick ignored this as he charged toward Patricia.
Another tentacle threw a metal strut, much larger than the first, and Nick fell to his knees, sliding along the floor, leaning back against his legs. The strut crashed into Burke’s desk, flipping it end over end, the Guardian helmet bouncing off the floor and landing at Rebecca Firestone’s feet. Nick was already up and moving before Patricia could throw another, and he leapt the last few feet, back bowed, fists joined together above his head.
An ice tentacle crashed into his chest, shattering, knocking him to the side. He hit the floor hard, sliding on a surface of water and hundreds of pills. The broken pieces of ice from the impact began to move toward him, crawling up his legs. Cold. So cold. He yelped, trying to shove them off, but more and more came, hitting his legs, his hips, his chest. He couldn’t think. The spark in his head dimmed, lost under a wave of crippling panic.
“You shouldn’t have touched my man,” Pyro Storm growled, and then the seventy-second floor lit up as if the sun had crashed into Burke Tower. Nick stared in awe at the room awash in fire, spreading like wings from Pyro Storm, molten hot and almost white. Flames leaked from Pyro Storm’s hands, crackling angrily, like whips made of fire.
Pyro Storm swung them above his head in circles. He snappedone forward, and Patricia Burke fell back on her ass, spreading her legs as the tip of the fire whip slapped the floor between her thighs, leaving a smoldering scorch mark.
“Neat trick,” Patricia panted. “I’ve got one, too.” She rolled backward, legs going up and over her head, hands pushing up off the floor. She landed on her feet, head snapping up. She raised her hand, and thick beads of water shot up her forearm, coalescing in her palm as a large bubble. Pyro Storm raised his whips above his head, crossing his arms. Before he could fling them forward, he… just… stopped.
“All that fire,” Patricia said. “And yet, you’re still made of water, just like everyone else.” She closed her fingers around the bubble in her hand, and Pyro Storm turned toward Nick stiffly, mouth hanging open. Behind him, Dad grunted and fell to his knees when a goon smashed a gun into the back of his head. Miles lay on the floor, eyes open but dazed. Trey and Bob stood above him, both glaring as more security pulled themselves to their feet.
“I… can’t… control… it,” Pyro Storm said through gritted teeth. “Nick…run.” And then he attacked.
Nick yelped and rolled left as a whip of fire hit the floor, the tremendous heat almost too much to bear. He rolled right when the other whip snapped toward him, causing the stone tiles to crack upon impact.
“I’m sorry!” Pyro Storm yelled, pulling the whips back. “This isn’t me!”
“Iknowthat!” Nick yelled back. “Bitch, you better step the hell off my—oh shit!” He fell back onto the floor, the whip cutting the air just above his face, singeing his hair, his eyebrows. He slapped at his face, sure he was on fire. As Nick lowered his hands, Pyro Storm took jerky steps toward him, moving as if he didn’t have joints, rocking side to side. The whips shrank into his palms, turning into twin fireballs. Patricia Burke stood behind him, Pyro Storm mimicking her movements: hands spreading far apart before being brought together. The fireballs combined into a single burning star.
“No,” Pyro Storm ground out. “Don’t… do this.”
“You did this to yourselves,” Patricia hissed. She brought her hands to her side, then thrust them forward so hard, Nick thought he heard her shoulders and elbows popping.
But that was the least of his concerns, because Pyro Storm did the same, hands holding the fireball, bringing it to his side, then thrusting it toward Nick. The fireball—at least three feet in diameter and growing bigger—shot toward Nick, leaving a line of black on the floor.
Nick screamed and raised his hands in front of him, as if that would do anything to stop his coming death. The moment before impact—the fire so bright—the spark in his head exploded. Nick felt it roll through him, traveling down his neck to his chest, his arms, his legs. He screamed as it coursed through him, the pain immense,too much—
And then nothing.
Nick opened his eyes slowly.
His hands, outstretched in front of him. Beyond them, the ball of fire, stationary, suspended in air, the surface moving like liquid. A little sun, and Nick hadcaught it.
“Holy shit,” he heard someone breathe.
Nick stood, hands still in front of him, and the fireball moved with him. He grinned ferociously. “Nowthat’swhat I call playing with fire! We really need to start writing these down.”
He expected Patricia to be outraged. He faltered when he saw she was smiling just as widely as he was. “Didn’t your parents teach you anything? Fire safety, Nicholas.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking—”
