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  That would have to wait, though. If I was still in Detmer, I had to get out of here. Detmer housed the largest concentration of pyrotechnic villains. Setting this place on fire was akin to tossing a Molotov cocktail at a firework factory. If I survived this, I’d wonder why, after months of needing only minimal food, I felt like I could eat my way through a bulk grocery store.

  I stumbled across the room, tripping twice, and tried to pound on the door. A stabbing sensation in my hand made me cry out. I grabbed my wrist and stared in horror: my palm frothed with bright green and yellow globules of gel.

  I groaned. Of all the times to develop a new power. Mobium absorbed powers arbitrarily and today it apparently wanted me to have Brook’s pain ray. She shot hers like a beam, but my version seemed to be a great deal gooier. Gross.

  A larger globule dripped on the floor and hissed as it ate through the concrete. I stared at the little pockmarked crater it left. Huh.

  A sizzling noise filled the air as I put my hand over the hinges, melting them clean off. I placed my palm flat against the middle of the door, watching it sink slowly into the metal.

  The floor shook, throwing me off balance. I saw the door hurtling toward my face—

  And I found myself standing in a hallway. On the other side of the door.

  “Hey!” One of the guards I’d saved earlier raced up to me. “Where the hell have you been? We’ve been clearing the building for nearly twenty minutes!”

  I gestured weakly at the door.

  The guard tugged on the door handle, frowning as it wobbled due to the lack of hinges but ultimately didn’t open. “How did you get out?”

  I’d ʼported, apparently, but that would take too long to explain. “Never mind,” I said. I took a step, and my right knee decided to randomly give out. When I caught myself on the wall, I left a smear of melted concrete behind. I gritted my teeth and tried to climb to my feet—where I promptly phased six feet forward and stumbled into a new section of the wall.

  “How did you . . . ? You know what, I don’t even want to know.” The guard slipped his shoulder under my arm before I could warn him not to. He grunted and stepped back. “What the—how much do you weigh?”

  “A lot.” I could walk on my own, but barely, so I followed behind the guard. I stumbled every dozen or so steps. Half the time, my body decided to phase, sending me tumbling. Around us, the walls began to shake. The floor rumbled hard enough to trip us both.

  “Any chance you could pick up the pace?” the guard asked in a shaky voice.

  “You should leave me behind,” I said, gritting my teeth to put one foot in front of the other. “I’m pretty durable. I’ll be fine if the building comes down on me. Probably.”

  “You can barely walk.”

  “Details.” Another quake in the ground, this time even harder. I heard the telltale groan of support beams beginning to buckle. “Seriously, go. I’ll be fine.”

  “Just walk faster.”

  Jaw clenched, I managed to pick it up to a light jog, but my head instantly began to pound and I careened into the wall more than once.

  We turned around the corner right as the building shook, a prolonged, terrifying rumble that rained down dust on both of us. At the wrenching noise of something breaking overhead, I twisted, shut my eyes, and shoved, pushing the guard out of the way. I’d have to take the hit—

  The noise cut off.

  I heard the guard yelp and fall over, hitting . . . dirt? Warily, I opened my eyes.

  We stood on the front lawn of Detmer Prison, completely safe and sound. Well, I stood. The guard had fallen on the grass and was gaping up at me. “What the—what the hell?” he asked. “Did I—did you—did you ʼport us here?”

  A loud percussive BOOM cut me off. I turned toward where the stone façade of Detmer faced off against the day three hundred feet away. Both of us watched as the building began to slide into itself in a slow-motion implosion. The roof caved in, almost graceful in its destruction. Within seconds, Detmer went from being a proud building to a dusty pile of rubble.

  Distantly, my brain pointed out that the one place capable of holding all of the country’s supervillains, who were collectively Very Terrible People, had been pulverized into dust. I should probably worry about that, but I suddenly had more pressing concerns.

  “Hey,” I said politely to the guard, “do me a favor? Call Davenport. I think they’re going to want to know about this.

  “Oh, and also, I need help.”

  And I passed out cold for the second time that day.

  Chapter 9

  This time buzzing rather than fire alarms woke me. A considerable step up, though I immediately regretted opening my eyes when overhead lights stabbed at my corneas. Teeth gritted, I closed my eyes until they could adjust. The hunger from earlier hadn’t abated; if anything, my stomach now felt like it might be trying to digest itself.

  I forced my eyes open again. When I saw the sandwich on a little table next to me, I scarfed it down without pause. It dulled the edge of the hunger from piercing to insistent, giving me a chance to look around in bewilderment. Somebody had put me in the hospital room at the Chicago Nest, which explained very little. Not the hunger, the heart monitor attached to my finger, the light sensitivity, or the buzzing still pushing at the edge of my hearing.

  Then I spotted my phone, and it clicked what the noise might be.

  A private number flashed on the screen. Head pounding, stomach churning, I picked up the phone. “What?”

  “Finally!”

  The volume made me wince. I held the phone away from my ear. “Raze? How long have you had this number?”

  “Does that matter?”

  “If you’ve had this number all along, why are you always kidnapping Guy to get my attention? You could have texted like you used to—”

  “Focus! It’s actually Boy that I’m calling about.”

  My head snapped up, and pain stabbed through my eyeballs and into my frontal lobe. I cried out, clutching my hand to my forehead.

  “Girl?” Raze asked.

  “What—what about Guy?” I asked from between clenched teeth.

  “I’m by his restaurant. Freezer Burn and his crony are here, which is completely unfair. I staked my territory more than clearly on the forums.”

  My headache made her words fade in and out like a bad receiver. I shoved the blankets off my legs. “Is Guy okay? Can you see him?”

  “He’s fine. They’re all fine, they’re just tied up. This is so rude. Do you know how rude this is? You don’t infringe on another villain’s territory. It’s simply not done!”

  Guy probably wouldn’t be hurt in an attack, but if somebody else was injured, he wouldn’t have a choice but to out himself to his coworkers. He’d worked there for nearly a year. I didn’t want him to lose that.

  But I also couldn’t walk, judging by the fact that I put one foot on the floor and immediately slammed into the wall six feet to my left.

  I grunted and staggered back. Plaster dust sprinkled down on me. “What the . . . ?”

  “Get here soon, will you?” Raze said. “If I fight these guys, they’ll think I’ve gone good, which is the worst.”

  I’d unpack Raze’s snarly mess of a conscience later, I decided as she hung up. I needed food, armor, and to save my boyfriend, in that order. Somewhere along the way, I could figure out what was going on with my powers, too.

  Grimacing, I took another step. I didn’t phase this time, which was nice.

  Instead, I ʼported. Away from the door.

  “What is happening?” I shouted at the ceiling, like it would possibly answer me. Another step propelled me forward normally, but a second sent me crashing into the wall six inches to the right of the first dent. Jaw clenched, I prayed and groped my way along the wall. My stomach felt like it was on fire. Sweat gathered at the back of my neck. Reaching the door should have been the simplest thing in the world, but it felt more like a marathon.

  The door opened right
before I reached it.

  “Hey, Gail, are you okay? Angélica sent me back to check on . . .” Vicki Burroughs trailed off. She wore the skintight black suit that made up her Plain Jane armor, with her mask (which I’d learned the hard way was bulletproof) clipped to her belt. My eyes cut to the burrito in her left hand. She drew back, eyeing me in my sweaty glory. “Hmm. I’m no expert, but I’m going to guess you should be in bed.”

  I held my hand out. “Can I please have that?”

  She handed over the burrito. I wolfed it down.

  “Don’t choke or anything,” Vicki said, her attention on the wall. “Was that you or a villain?”

  “Something’s wrong with my powers.”

  “Huh.” She studied the second dent.

  “I’ll worry about it later.” Wincing, I took a careful step. Nothing happened. “I don’t have time now. Guy’s restaurant is under attack.”

  “So is the rest of Chicago. I don’t think you’re going to be much help if you’re doing . . .” She gestured vaguely at the two massive dents in the wall. “That.”

  I could only blink at her, uncomprehending. “Chicago’s under attack?”

  “Not all of it. Just, like, most of it. The supervillain prison less than a hundred miles away did just blow up and this is the nearest major city.”

  “Oh. Right.” Another step had me ʼporting right back to where I was before. I cursed.

  “Maybe you really should get back in bed,” Vicki said.

  “Can’t. I’m needed,” I said, and then something occurred to me. “Why are you here and not out fighting?”

  “HEX-mandated break. Union rules, remember? Jessie stocks the best stuff, so I swung by.”

  My boss’s name felt like a punch to the gut. “Jessie, is she . . . ?”

  “She’s stable. They’ve got her in a medical coma. Or resting, at least.” Vicki eyed me. “Maybe you should follow her lead.”

  “I’m getting a handle on it.” The burrito had helped. With more food, maybe I’d be able to control things again. “I’m no use to anyone stuck in a hospital bed.”

  “Can’t argue with that. Well, I could, but I like your fire too much. Here, let me help.” She had to crouch down a long way to lever her shoulder under my arm, but at least she was one of the strongest women in the world and didn’t react to my weight. With her hand on my waist to brace me, we made it to the kitchen, where I immediately ʼported to the pantry.

  It was like my body was trying to tell me something.

  Jessie did indeed keep the best foodstuffs on hand, but after an intense internal debate, I reached for a box of silver-wrapped packages. The nutrient bars supplied a full day’s nourishment to anybody with a normal metabolism a full day’s nourishment. I made a face as I choked one down.

  There was a reason we called them crap-cakes.

  “Better you than me,” Vicki said, making herself another burrito as I unwrapped a second crap-cake. She tucked it into her belt. “And with that, I’m off to save your boyfriend like the good mentor I am. Talk to Angélica and get this—” she gestured at all of me “—taken care of, ʼkay?”

  She saluted and flew off to save the day.

  I swallowed another crap-cake, tucking two more in my pocket, and made my way out of the kitchen. The ache faded between my temples. I only phased twice, and neither dent would earn me more than scolding. But I could feel my hands trembling.

  What had happened to me at Davenport? Why were my powers doing this?

  Angélica had taken over the HEX room, fingers flying over the monitors as she directed superheroes over the network. Monitors filled two of the walls, displaying supervillains in a frenzied free-for-all. They seemed to be hitting the typical attack spots: banks, public transportation, a few movie theaters.

  One solitary monitor showed footage from the Davenport gala, celebrities and others arriving on the red carpet, and finally—I winced—that shot of me on my ass right in front of the stage, with the Davenports behind me and the world all looking on. I’d never liked that network.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Angélica said without looking over at me.

  “How long was I out?”

  “A couple hours. How are you feeling?”

  “Not great. Hungry.”

  “Which villain knocked you out?”

  “I don’t remember,” I said, as everything prior to waking up in that room remained an elusive blur. “Somebody powerful, I think. But never mind that, what’s going on out there?”

  In her usual terse manner, Angélica filled me in on everything that had happened in the few hours I’d been passed out. Only about a third of Detmer’s prisoners had escaped, but that was still far too many. The mayor of Chicago had declared a state of emergency and all members of the HEX network had been called up.

  The HEX network included Raptor. Not just included: she was one of the most well-known masks in the fight against evil, and she was down for the count. I rubbed my hands down my face, sick to my stomach. “If Raptor can’t be out there, I should be. I need to help.”

  Except that when I turned to go, the room tilted and went black. I found myself six feet from the door, and I’d taken a knee.

  Angélica’s mouth gaped open. “Did you just ʼport?”

  “Yeah, that’s been a thing.” I shook my head, which only made my vision swim.

  Angélica hauled me bodily to the floor, making me sit against the wall. I flinched as she shone her phone’s flashlight straight into my eyes. “Get that out of my face,” I said.

  “What’s going on? What happened to you at Detmer?”

  “I can’t remember all of it. I woke up in some kind of torture chamber and—” A series of images blitzed across my vision, and I felt like swaying. “Rita. Fearless—she was there, she put me in that room, but I don’t know what she did to me. Weird stuff’s been happening, though.”

  “Weird stuff like what?”

  Rather than answer, I held up my hands. The oozing version of Brook’s pain ray had returned. Angélica studied one palm, then the other, and pinched the bridge of her nose, cursing vociferously.

  “A new power. Now? Just what we needed,” Angélica said.

  “This is more than new powers,” I said. I’d historically had issues whenever a new ability showed up, always without warning and usually without me noticing. ʼPorting had given me migraines, phasing had sapped my energy, and bonding psychically with Kiki had led to memory issues. But the reactions had never been this severe. “New abilities have never affected any of the other powers. But I’m phasing without meaning to. Even more, I ʼported me and a guard outside the walls and you know I’ve never ʼported anybody else before.”

  “So what is this?” Angélica asked.

  “I don’t know.” And I was more than a little terrified.

  “You’re dripping,” Angélica said.

  I looked down and groaned at the new welts in the HEX room floor. It took a few seconds of hard concentration to stop my hands from oozing, but the damage had already been done. “Jessie’s not gonna like that.”

  “This is an awful time for your powers to act up,” Angélica said, her mouth a grim line. “I can’t let you go out like this.”

  “I know.” I slowly climbed to my feet. She was right: I couldn’t go out into the field with my powers malfunctioning. I could think of only one way to try and get a grip on everything.

  “Where are you going?” Angélica asked.

  “The gym. Whatever Rita did to me, I need to walk it off. Vicki’s rescuing Guy, so at least I don’t have to worry about that.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Angélica said, and I looked at the monitor in time to see an aerial shot of Plain Jane getting knocked out of the sky by a fire bolt. She landed hard in the street, creating a minicrater, and launched herself toward a bad guy I recognized from his burnt duster alone. I groaned. Scorch, in addition to not being verbally quick, was a pain in the ass to fight. Vicki would never
make it to Guy’s restaurant in time.

  “Looks like I’ll learn how to control this on the job,” I said, phasing only a little as I headed for the doorway. “If you can get a message to Guy, tell him I’m on my way.”

  Jessie had held off on teaching me how to fly the jet, probably because calamity followed me like a dog with a bone and the jet was the most expensive thing she owned. So I took the motorcycle. At least everything seemed a little more under control with the edge of the hunger gone. I only phased over the handlebars once, and I’d already stopped at a red light when it happened, so it didn’t really count. As I drove, I called Guy’s phone. No answer.

  No answer from Raze either. Not that I expected one.

  I parked half a block away from the restaurant. On my own, with busted powers, and no idea what I was facing. I’d never heard of the villains Raze had named.

  Plus, there was a strong chance she had simply called to lure me into another trap.

  As I sneaked closer, huge splinters of ice erupted through the front window. I braced myself, but nobody burst out after it or swooped in to attack me. So much for hoping this was another of Raze’s tricks. Ice had never been her style.

  Warily skirting the ice chunks, I crept closer and peered inside. I’d been visiting Guy for late lunches for months, so I knew the layout: the maître d’ stand inside the door, the private dining room to the left, the more public dining room and bar to the right, the door to the kitchens, to the bathrooms.

  All of it was now covered in a glittering carpet of ice.

  A man in light-up green-and-blue carapace armor perched atop the maître d’ stand, gleefully shooting blue rays. Frost exploded wherever he pointed.

  “Took you long enough,” a voice whispered to my left, and I whirled.

  “Raze! What the hell? Warn a girl, will you?”

  Raze shrugged, her cape fluttering. “You’re a terrible superhero sometimes. But you are one, I knew it.” She punched the shoulder of my armor. “I’d design you something with better colors, for the record.”