“Damnit,” I cursed as lightning ran up his arm, the air sizzling with heat.
Most Variants had the chip; but not all of us. Anyone born outside of a hospital and off the record, anyone who hadn’t been tested for the gene went under the radar. There was no one to track them, or what they decided to do with their ability, until they got caught. I couldn’t see any scar on his neck—he was free to do as he pleased.
Finally, when the pressure in the air built, my restraint snapped.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before waving my hand through the air. I wouldn’t pull them in completely—I couldn’t risk it. But there was that phase in between, where I could put them in a haze, and buy us time. My horns buzzed and their eyes went blank. I didn’t waste a second as I grabbed the old man by the arm, and hauled ass.
Even though my eyes grew sleepy and my limbs went numb, I pushed through the backlash of my ability. He stumbled behind me, and my arms burned as I tried to pull him beside me, to balance his weight as we jogged away.
“Don’t worry,” I huffed, “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
The frail connection broke the moment we reached my bike. Confused grumbles sounded behind us, and then footsteps took off, pounding against the pavement and growing louder with each moment. The hospital had taken too much out of me; I didn’t have enough left to keep up my ability. I spun around, tucking the old man behind me as they reached us. A fist reared back, and all I could do was close my eyes and wait for the impact.
But it never came.
Instead, the scent of ash filled the air, and everything went warm—no,hot.I opened my eyes, and the shield on my helmet couldn’t darken the blaze that was in front of me. A man stood in front of us, a large and looming figure with a Hero suit that had flames licking across the black material.
Ash blond, messy hair swayed with the heat wave, but it didn’t burn. He’d grabbed one of the men by the wrist, his skin bubbling into blisters, and nearly sent him flying as he threw him back. The men yelped, and scrambled backward as they watched the Hero with fear. But he didn’t follow, didn’t chase them down and burn them to ashes. Instead, he turned around, and I my throat swelled.
I recognized that face.
Ihatedthat face.
A chiseled jaw, tanned skin, hair so light it was almost white. Blazing red eyes and a body carved from stone—Leo. A steel mask hung around his neck, and orange tubes glowed, surely pushing coolant through his body to keep him from overheating. I’d seen it so many times I’d lost count — the way smoke would pour from his mouth and nose as his ability overtook him. I remembered when Joon would pull out a fire extinguisher and laugh as Leo sat covered in foam with a pout.
Leo never raged against Joon; he tolerated him more than most. Still, I remembered the warnings, the urging to keep my distance. After I got burned, Joon was always watching.
“He can’t control himself,”he’d said.“Be careful around him. We’re working on it, but…he’s dangerous.”
It didn’t matter what kind of warning I was given; Leo was a dick, and I never wanted to be around him, anyway.
“I know you.” His voice was deep, more graveled than the last time I’d heard it. “I’ve seen that bike before.”
How long had it been? Four years, five, or even six? Some time before Joon’s death, when they worked as partners. Leo was someone I never cared to see again; that was part of the reason why I rarely watched the news, or scrolled through my phone. The Hero Cinder was always in the tabloids, and I didn’t need reminders of our academy days.
Asshole,my reaction was immediate.
The scar on my hand tingled beneath my glove, and I clenched my fist. His eyes dropped, hovering until I tucked the arm behind me. In a panic, I tugged our victim forward, nearly throwing the old man in Leo’s direction. A real Hero was here; I wasn’t necessary anymore.
“Hey, wait,” he snarled, his flames disappearing right before the man stumbled into him. “I’m not done with you yet.”
I didn’t give him a chance to trap me. Before another word left his mouth, I was speeding off on Hopper. My heart raced as I burned rubber through the city, putting as much distance between Leo and myself as I could.
By the time I made it into my apartment, I was gasping for air. I was doing better—it was still June, but I was making progress, right? I hadn’t gotten drunk in, what, three days? It was a damn miracle. Leo’s face hovered in my mind, with that strange expression of…what? Concern, confusion, realization? I wasn’t sure if he recognized me as Alex, or just as a rider he’d seen passing by.
He remembers the scar.
The memories rushed in, and I clawed off my gear before leaning over the countertop in my kitchen, staring at the bottle of wine that sat there, waiting. I collapsed on the floor as I placed my head between my knees, taking deep breaths. But the daydream consumed me anyway, pulling me in without permission.
I sat on the tile floor, a large screen spanning along the wall next to me that showed a mock battle playing out in real time. Heroes in training watched, their arms crossed and brows knit as they took note of abilities and weaknesses, every wrong move and how it could’ve been done better.
Then Leo was in front of me, squatting with that cocky grin I always wanted to smash to pieces. The burn hadn’t happened yet; we were still in our early stages of hatred.
“Still feeling it, little sloth?” he chuckled as he held out a bottle of pain relievers. “I could call a healer back, y’know. Don’t be stubborn.”
My ribs ached suddenly, and I remembered. I’d just finished my own mock battle, and Joon’s was the one playing on the screen. I’d gotten my ass kicked, and a Variant with healing abilities had barely been able to mend my cracked ribs. It was abad day—one of the days I wanted to quit, but Joon refused to let me.
“I don’t need anything from you,” I spat, always on the defense around him. “Mind your business.”
