“You’re making it up.”
“His lanyard.” She moved closer, pointing to the strip of white coming out of his jean pockets. Written in bold red letters: Vanguard Middle School.
“They’d be better off.” My fingers tightened. “They don’t need scum for a father.”
“Life is precious.Alllife is precious.” She moved closer; her feet barely made a sound on the pavement. “You don’t get to decide who lives and dies. You’re not the judge, jury, and executioner.”
I had said those exact words a dozen times as I trained new paramedics. Whether the patient owned a million-dollar business or had been the one to plow his truckthrough a stoplight, they were the same. The man’s body twitched and I pulled my hand away. He coughed, sucking in air.
We don’t get to decide.
The guilt did more damage than the bullet. I scolded the superheroes for their lack of ethics, their constant need to put themselves above others. It had only been a day, and already I had turned into one of the egomaniacs.
The man scurried to his feet, running down the street, eyeing over his shoulder.
“Well,” she started, “good job not killing him. But you didn’t need to let a criminal get away.”
Staring at my hands, I ran through the night, recounting the number of times I knocked the sense out of a criminal. I wanted to blame my anger, that it clouded my judgment, but it was more juvenile. Prometheus had entrusted me with a little power, and I abused it. Now came the anger.
“I’m just like them,” I whispered.
“Welcome to the club.” Hellcat patted me on the shoulder. “We all get caught up in the beginning. It’s a rush.”
“I could have killed him.”
“Sure,” she said, “but you didn’t. It’s a start.”
A lick of flame rolled up my arm, igniting the sleeve of my t-shirt, burning the cotton. The fingers of the suit glowed, a first for the evening. I knew I could summon fire,or I thought I could, but despite my attempts, it hadn’t come when I demanded it. Of course it appeared when I questioned my heart.
“Look…” Hellcat moved between me and the crushed doors. “You’re the only powered person in the city. You might not be the hero we wanted, but you’re all we’ve got.”
“I’m not a hero.” After nearly killing a middle school teacher, nothing about me felt heroic.
“Heroes aren’t born,” she said. “Get that comic crap out of your head. They’re made. Do you think I woke up kicking ass and taking names?”
“Kind of,” I mumbled.
“Well, yeah.” Humble wasn’t a word in Hellcat’s dictionary. “But I lost my fair share of fights too. I was about to hang up my mask when a man offered to train me.”
“You’re offering to train me?”
“I drew the short straw at the vigilante meeting,” she laughed. “I’ve been here before. So how about you take that pity party, clean up, and we find a more productive way for you to use that anger?”
In the ambulance, if I walked away from a call feeling I didn’t do everything I could, I beat myself up for it. I’d read, ask questions, and the moment I had the chance, I’d prove I could be better. One day with powers and it was as if I had forgotten myself. I might be masked, but underneath the nifty alien costume, I was still Xander.
I nodded.
“Okay,” she said. “First, I need a name. There is no way in hell I’m calling you Blaze. I have an image to uphold.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d assume the woman behind the mask took pep talk tips from Lei. Yet again, the women in my life were going to whip my ass into shape.
11
“You knowI can hurl fire, right?”
“Okay, big shot.” Hellcat stepped back into the alley, motioning to the dumpster. For a hero without abilities, she wielded her sarcasm like a cosmic power. When I didn’t summon it, she continued her prodding. “Well, show me these amazing abilities. I’m ready for shock and awe.”
I had gone toe-to-toe with Shadow, hurling fire like a badass. This garbage-can had no idea the danger coming its way. I thrust my hands forward with a loud grunt. There was no warmth, no burning along my skin. Most of all, there was no pillar of fire obliterating the garbage.
