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The last goon through the doors closed and locked them behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Rebecca Firestone go to the desk, setting the Guardian helmet down on top of it, the lenses pointed toward them. Nick breathed a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

Burke went to the counter on the right wall, stopping in front of the circles, touching the handles with something akin to reverence. “Patricia,” he said without turning around. “Please show our guests just how serious I am.”

Fake Nick was gone. Jennifer Bell was gone. In their place, a woman he’d only seen a few times up close, the last of which being a quick flash as she fled their home through a hole in the wall. Her dark hair hung around her shoulders in waves. Shadows like bruises under her eyes, skin washed out. She wore slacks and a blue blouse, the collar slightly crooked. Her fingernails were painted white. Her feet were bare. He was about to snap at her, but the words died in his throat when the back of her blouse began to ripple.

Black tendrils of smoke rose from her back, thick tentacles that moved as if alive. They rose above her head, casting shadows on the floor. She twitched, and the smoke shot forward, slamming into Dad’s chest, into Bob. Trey. Miles. They were all lifted off their feet as smoke wrapped around them, pinning their arms to their sides.

What had Smoke and Ice told him?

Mr. Burke sends his regards.

It was true. All of it. Part of Nick had hoped that Owen was wrong, but here it was: proof. A chimera. Made up of things she’d stolen from others. Not a cure. A disease, harmful and destructive.

“Let themgo,” Nick growled as Dad’s head rocked back, the smoke tightening around his chest. They’d been here before. Dad, trapped in smoke. Nick, unable to help him.

“No,” Burke said coolly. “Time and time again, your family has stood between me and harnessing the powers of Extraordinaries. It’s time I paid you back in full.” And with that, he gripped the handle and pulled upward. A hiss, followed by a cloud of white vapor as the container rose. He moved on to the next handle, and the next, and the next.

A dozen in all, filled with what looked like brightly colored candy. Green and yellow. Violet. Blue. Orange. Black. White.Nick had seen them before, far below where they now stood, in a lab underneath Burke Tower.

Green is superstrength, capable of turning you into a human wrecking ball. Yellow is the power of flight. Violet is the ability to summon storms. Blue can make you become a conductor of electricity. Orange is fire. Black is smoke. Or maybe shadow. I’d stay away from that one if I were you. I’m told it’s… intense. I wouldn’t want that for you. Perhaps the blue. Or green.

And the white?

The white one is off-limits. Even for you, Nicky. It’s the most unstable. It’s telekinesis.

But they weren’t the only ones.

A pile of pink pills, with two yellow stripes around the top and the bottom. Pale blue, crisscrossed with a blackX.Clear pills, halfway filled with liquid that sloshed. Red, but not like fire. No, this was the dark red of blood. An electric green with a light pulsing in each pill, a steady heartbeat.

Burke finished pulling up all the containers, and stood back, pride evident on his face. “And there are more,” he said, answering Nick’s unasked question. “So many more. These are the most stable.”

Patricia had a dreamy look on her face, the shadows from her back roiling, the men suspended above her still struggling. They’d known this was a possibility. They’d planned for this, and yet Nick could barely tamp down the fury that roared in him.

“Why?” he asked. “I thought you wanted to take our powers away.”

“Both can be true,” Burke said, stroking the container filled with clear pills lovingly. “One doesn’t negate the other. Before we go any further, where is Pyro Storm?”

“I have no idea,” Nick said. “He’s his own person. He can do what he wants.”

“Really,” Burke said. “You of all people don’t know where he is.”

“Yeah. That’s what I said. Glad to know you can retain information.”

“Nick,” Dad croaked as the end of the smoke tentacle stroked the side of his face. “Not helping.”

“Anthony,” Burke said. “Please check the security grid. Make sure we won’t have any… interruptions.”

Anthony nodded, striding around Burke’s desk and wiggling the mouse. Rebecca Firestone cleared her throat, stepping away from the desk, leaving the Guardian helmet facing toward the others. Nick couldn’t see what was on the screen from where he stood, but Anthony’s face lit up when the monitor awoke. Holding his breath, Nick waited as Anthony typed something on the keyboard. He frowned, typed something else, and then said, “Clear.”

Burke stroked his jaw. “Fascinating. You’re sure?”

“Sure, boss. No one else in the building.”

Burke looked at Nick. “What are you planning?”

Nick startled when he felt a vibration against his chest. A hardened circle underneath his costume. The pin that Gibby had given them. The cameras. His was covered, but the Dad Squad still wore theirs. Burke had found the mics in their ears, but it’d made him careless.

It was go-time.

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