I had the zoomies.

  It felt good to be out in the air and I was just darting through the sky, flipping and spinning. The pull of my cape added tension to the G-Forces I was feeling made everything seem right with the world. It was just me, the beautiful open sky, and 2500 of my closest friends. I’d gotten back into streaming after an extremely long hiatus. Between going to a different planet, exposing Bion, and everything else, I just hadn’t felt up to it. It’s strange to expose myself to so many people live like that. Giving them access to my ambient humming, muttering, and also having access to their thoughts flooding into my head.

  And that was probably the most double edged sword of all of this. A lot of them disapproved of some of my actions. A lot of them thought I should go further than I had with some criminals. A fair number had very conflicting feelings about my role in Bion’s arrest and eventual acquittal. God knows I can agree wholeheartedly with that, I thought bitterly. Some of what they said mirrored what Chuck had been saying for a while, that I was letting my anger get the better of me, control me.

  And what Curt had been saying about me, that I was reckless and too punitive. It was a little hard to track, but it seemed that we actually had a pretty big fan overlap. I’m sure he fucking hates that. I grinned. But I think he hates having fans at all. But it wasn’t something you could really avoid. You have to give the people what they want. At least a little.

  Coincidentally, a SuperChat came in to prove that exact point. I slowed down to a reasonable speed so I could read and answer it properly.

  I felt my face heat up as I read the message. Ryany had convinced me to go fully nude after they had calmed down from their impromptu skydive. And I still wasn’t entirely sure about any of it. I’d seen the pictures and they were . . . Is it arrogant to think that they’re amazing? I asked myself. I looked amazing. But you could see almost everything. Ryany had convinced me first to do a swimsuit that I would never wear at the beach and then, after a little more coaxing, some tasteful nudes. Which did move the product. We had raised $10,000 in presales alone and we were expected to do much more when the campaign went live.

  “Thanks, SpyDurr,” I answered, after swallowing down my discomfort. “It was a lot of fun and it’ll help out a lot. It’s, uh, for a good cause, so if you’ve ever wanted to see, um, a lot more of me and help some people, you know where to find the link.” I knew that my face was beet red, but there was little I could do about that at the moment. The conversation moved on and people started asking me if I was going to do more shoots like that. “I-I’m not really sure, Smash Fans, I need to think about it. I don’t just want to be a-a model like that, you know. I was always raised to believe that nudity was something you shared with the people special in your life. Not that you aren’t all special to me, but . . . y’know what I mean.”

  The conversation devolved into mentions of Buck Cherry and her ethos. I didn’t comment on that too much, not wanting to think about that woman. Especially not the comparisons people would draw between us. The fan art’s bad enough. I couldn’t see myself with a woman, especially one like Cindi Drei, but the internet sure seemed eager to make up for my lack of imagination.

  I dipped down a little lower, flying between the buildings, keeping an eye out for anything untoward. Or anything to distract me from the conversation, which wasn’t exactly great practice as an entertainer, but I couldn’t help it. At least I’m not a reaction streamer. Some of those guys will just go to the bathroom while playing my video. I tried to make sure my stream was more interesting by cutting around some buildings as tight as I could, giving the camera hanging from my costume’s collar the sense of surfing off the edge of a skyscraper. My mic automatically muted when the wind got above a certain level, so they didn’t have the beautiful sound of air rushing past their ears. It had only taken me two streams after I’d ditched my mask to realize that particular sound doesn’t work nearly as well without the feeling of it buffeting your body.

  Off in the distance, I spotted smoke rising up from a building. I sped off towards it, wondering if I could help. Within a few heartbeats, I arrived in front of a burning building. The fire was absolutely out of control. I could hear firetrucks approaching, but the signature traffic of Avalare at 4:30pm had settled in. Not that I’d ever had to deal with that myself.. Still, how had it gotten this bad with no response yet? I asked myself, charging forward.

  When I ripped the door off the hinges at the bottom, flames burst forth in the backdraft, but I blocked them with a psychic shield. My eyebrows just grew back. I used the psychic plate to pat down the flames as I flew through, listening for any people struggling. It was hard to sift through all of the crackling of flames eating through drywall and pipes being superheated. For the first time in a while, I missed the mask mom and dad had made me wear, sweat trickling down my face already. A floor up and 3 doors down, I heard someone cry out and I rushed towards the sound. Briefly, I considered slamming through the floor and wall to get there more directly, but I quickly abandoned that thought. Don’t need the whole building coming down on me. I’d probably be fine if it did, but anyone else wouldn’t be.

  I reached the staircase which had been covered entirely by thick, black smoke. I took a deep breath and speed up to the next floor. When I got to the right apartment, I kicked down a door and it went flying, slamming down onto and through the floor which had been eaten away by flames. Entering the apartment, I listened for the sounds and after a moment, I found a woman curled over her child that had passed out from smoke inhalation. She looked up at me, covered in soot and burns. I gently picked them both up and flew towards the window. I couldn’t open it without putting them down, or at least, in the moment, I didn’t remember my psychokinetic powers, so, instead I just broke through the panes back first and took them down to the ground.

  Emergency services had finally arrived and were starting to try and battle the flames. Good. Some EMTs took the woman and child and started looking up after them. I saw some cops point at me, but I didn’t pay them any mind as I flew back into the building, searching for more people.

  One of the benefits and detriments of having super senses is that you can pay attention to too much at a time. So, even while going through and trying to rescue people, choking on acrid smoke, and dodging gouts of rising flame, I could still read chat.

  I rolled my eyes and continued to search for more people. Occasionally, I’d remember that I had psychokinesis. And not just because chat reminded me. Several times. It made lifting fiery logs a lot easier. I wouldn’t exactly burn immediately, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

  Ultimately, I rescued twelve more people and squashed some of the flames as best I could, either by blasting through them at high speeds or just crushing them under a psychic panel.

  When I landed to check to see how everything was going, four cops approached me. One of them called out, “Miss Stewart.”

  “Officer Winot,” I read coolly off their badge. The man stiffened a little and nodded.

  “Under the new directions of the DA, we are required to remind you that vigilanteism is illegal in Avalare.”

  “Was I being a vigilante?” I asked, brow raised. “I figured I was saving people. Rescuing them. From a fire.”

  “Just leave it to the professionals, ma’am,” one of the other officers said.

  “Or what?” I asked, managing to keep my tone even.

  “You will be arrested,” Winot answered easily, putting his hands on the heavy duty, anti-meta gloves he had. “We appreciate that you’re just trying to help. That’s why we’re giving you a warning this time. Don’t force our hands.” Chat hated that.

  I even received a few SuperChats with messages that almost broke me.

  Not for the first time, I found chat comforting. I took a deep breath and shook my head. “You do whatever you feel have to. I’m going to help people when I can. I’m not going to sit around and let people die just because some politician says I should.”

  The cops shifted a little uncomfortably at that. Winot stepped forward. “Then I’m afraid that you’re under arre-”

  I blasted off into the sky without warning. I suppressed the supersonic shockwave. Mostly. The cops were blown back a bit by what I’d ‘forgotten’ to suppress as I rose up above the city. I noticed a police helicopter not too far away, and it seemed to be following, or at least tracking me from the air. I frowned, but it wasn’t hard to lose.

  “What a bunch of ungrateful jerks,” I said, before flying off again.

  So, I lived.

  Either that or hell carries over the bullet holes and strained muscles, which seems a little unfair. I struggled to open my eyes. They were glued shut by tears of pain and it took a small eternity to tear out my eye lashes and take a look around. The room was dark, but even in that darkness, I recognized Des’ practice. There was a blood bag and saline pumping into me. No painkillers that I could see, which was fine by me. The pain was bearable right now, at least. I started to get up, my throat parched, starting to take stock.

  I wasn’t exactly sure how long I’d been out. The sky was dark outside the window, but we moved several timezones to get here and it could’ve been a day, it could’ve been a week, though I doubted it. Fucking stupid, I thought, mentally kicking myself. A waste of fucking time! Hell, if I’d followed Des’ advice, I would’ve wasted as much time and been better off. As I gripped the drip stand, preparing to use it as a crutch, the door opened. I winced at the light, my pupils shrinking to the size of microbes. As they refocused, I saw Tierra close the door and make her way over to me, closing the door. “You took your sweet fucking time waking up.”

  I watched her for a long moment, considering my words. Part of me wanted to snipe back, but I wrestled the urge down. She has a right to hate me, I reminded myself. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that. I’m up now. What’s up?”

  The thief studied me for a long time. “You need to stop. Get out of Des’ life. Out of Cherry’s. Out of mine.”

  I looked down at my bare chest, covered in some bandages holding newly 3D-printed flesh in place. Who would’ve figured the flesh reconstructor I’d stolen from WanEn would be used on me more than anyone else? I shook my head. “Can I put on a shirt and get some water first?”

  “You got fucking jokes?!” Her voice held enough venom that I was afraid that any spittle might burn me. “You scared Des and Cherry half to death and you’re telling jokes right now. I’m not going to stand by and let you terrorize them anymore.”

  “That’s fair,” I replied, voice barely above a whisper. She rolled her eyes.

  “This isn’t about your pathetic self-loathing, your idiot Messiah complex, or your desire to destroy yourself. This is a statement of fact. You’re dangerous.”

  “Alright,” I said, standing up. I wobbled slightly and had to throw out an arm to stabilize myself. She didn’t make a move to help, her eyes narrowing on me suspiciously. “So, I’m going to take this as seriously as I can.” I wandered past her, using the drip pole as a support and got myself some water out of the sink. “Cindi has the same ability I do now. She can be anywhere in the world in two instants. Des has Cindi’s number and both of them care about me.” She started to say something. “I agree with you, for the most part. But I don’t know if we can get them to agree with it.”

  As Tierra was considering my words, Cindi poked her head through the door, literally, and looked between the two of us. “They’re in here, Doctor,” she called back before walking through the door, not bothering to open it. Des came in a moment after her.

  “What are you doing out of bed!?” They demanded.

  “I was told by a pain in my ass I needed to drink more water,” I replied, holding up the little cup. Des sneered at me but I could see the humor in the expression. Must not be too bad off, then. Cindi was looking at Tierra suspiciously.

  “What were you doing in here?” She asked.

  “Bonding,” I lied without heat. “Where’s my phone?”

  “Why do you need it?” Des asked, irritation plain in their tone.

  “I was talked into running a criminal organization,” I said blandly. “And I don’t think it wise to leave them to their own devices. Especially when they discover that I killed Crowley. At least I assume he’s dead, given that I’m here.”

  “You did,” Cindi confirmed. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head, trying to piece together what was actually happening between Tierra and I. “And you don’t need to worry, Essy, darling. We’re taking care of everything in your absence,.” She sauntered over to me and started guiding me back to the exam table we were using as a makeshift bed. I let her. “Are you really not going to tell me what you were talking about?”

  “I told him that he needs to leave,” Tierra announced, anger and irritation in her tone.

  “You what!?” Des and Cindi demanded in almost perfect unison. They’ve been spending too much time together, I thought wryly.

  “He’s reckless and nowhere near good enough to warrant it,” the redheaded thief stated the obvious truth. I leaned against the bed, drinking my water, wishing it were coffee.

  “That’s not a decision you get to make,” Des stated, working to keep their voice calm with obvious effort.

  “He seems to agree with me,” Tierra said, wilting under Des’ tone a little.

  “Of course he does, he’s an idiot!” The doctor said, I sighed half-heartedly. They glared at me. “The only person who hates him more than he does is dead.”

  “Ladies and annoying medical professionals,” I cut in, causing all three of them to try to melt me with their eyes. “Tierra has a point.” Cindi tightened her grip on my shoulder painfully, but I ignored her and continued on anyway. “But it’s also not a workable solution. As I pointed out to her, even if I wanted to self-isolate, run away, Cindi can find me anywhere in the world. And she would because I’m her husband. And even if she didn’t want to, she owes so many favors to Des that they could bully her into it anyway.”

  “Oh good boy. You realised the obvious,” Cindi teased, pinching my cheek. I glared at her, too tired to put much anger in it. “Whar is your plan then? I assume you had one since you’re too thickheaded to drop silly notions and I’m sure Tierra will insist upon it.” My wife looked coldly over at the woman who looked unimpressed.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Des has been too close to the company I have been holding lately,” I continued, but the thought was cut off.

  “I just saved your life!” Des cried out. “If I hadn’t been around you would be dead.”

  “Yeah. And that doesn’t change what I just said,” I bowled over their objection. “You’ve tacitly joined a terrorist group, Des. Think about that for half a second.” They were silent. “I’m trying to find a way to build something that matters, and I appreciate all of the help you have been, really. And I’m grateful for you saving my life and for all the work Tierra has done. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “That’s not your decision to make,” they replied almost too softly to be heard.

  “People are worried about you, Des.”

  “People are worried about you, too,” Cin pointed out, pulling me deeper into her embrace. “And they won’t give up just because you push them away. You know that.”

  “I do,” I agreed, deflating a little. “So, here’s my immediate solution: you all realize that Tierra is right and abandon me.” The doctor and my wife glared at me. I snorted and continued, “Short of that, I don’t know. I’ll try to be more careful. In the meantime, give me my phone.”

  “I want you to take a vacation. Relax, like, actually relax.” Des’ tone brooked no argument. I rubbed my face. “We all could. Together. I mean, the Acolytes are mostly self-sufficient at this point, right?”

  “I have some fires to put out first.” They started to argue, but I cut them off with a hand. “After those are out, I promise, I’ll take a few weeks off.” They frowned but nodded. I looked at my wife, with my hand out. Cindi thrust the phone into my hand and I smiled at her, before checking it. She rolled her eyes, but didn’t move away. Professor Mind had left me a message on one of my burners, which had been forwarded through a few proxies. I frowned at it, texting him back.

  After another minute, I got a pinned location.

  “I need my rig,” I said, addressing the room. Tierra glowered at me. I knew what she was thinking, but it didn’t matter.

  “What!?” Cindi demanded.

  “No!” Des shouted. You need to be in bed resting!”

  “I don’t think this can wait.” I stated evenly. Truthfully, I wanted to crawl into bed, drag Cindi with me and just be warm and comfortable for a while. But there was work to be done. “Professor Mind is asking for my help. I can’t imagine he’d do that lightly.”

  “And you’re going to help him!?” Tierra spat. “Hasn’t he tried to kill you?”

  “No, he hasn’t.” I looked at Cindi and held out my hand. Her face was torn. She wanted to force me back into bed, but she also knew that wouldn’t work.

  “I could do it for you,” she muttered.

  “You’ve been doing too much of my job already, Cin.” I whispered back. “And he didn’t ask for you.”

  “Then I’m coming.”

  ‘No,” I began. She puffed up her chest, which I was too tired to be distracted by, for once. “Damn it, Cindi. You need to manage the Acolytes. And I need some time to think about my next steps.” She looked hurt by this. I cupped her cheek and she couldn’t help but lean into it. “Look, after this, we’ll all grab dinner. Just like you all planned . . . however long ago that was. We’ll eat, drink, be merry. All that good crap.” Tierra frowned at me. “And I’ll have a fun story of heroism and messiah’ing when I get back.” No one looked happy about this, which meant I had succeeded in my job as a negotiator.

  A few minutes later, I had traveled to a different doctor’s office. One with comfortable chairs and soft lighting. I stepped through the portal with a fresh shirt, fresh jeans, and the drip pole. I still felt a little lightheaded. Professor Mind’s face contorted when he saw me. He wasn’t in his heroic costume; instead, he wore baggy slacks, a polo and a sweater vest. I realized that this was just as much a disguise for him as his superhero costume was. No one would expect this frumpy, bag of psychiatrist to be the thin, lanky superhero. “Mister Reese, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, did some spontaneous blood letting. Now I’m just topping off the tank.” I shambled over to a seat and sat down. It was the same seat I had taken when we did the one session of therapy. “What’d you need?”

  “I . . . Maybe this can wait.”

  “If it could, you wouldn’t have contacted me.” His frown deepened at that. “We already lost a day and a half. What is it?”

  “I . . .” He hesitated. I watched him. “Do you know Bellemere Correctional?”

  “Prison and ‘mental health facility’,” I put up finger quotes around the words, “out about a hundred miles from the city. Never been there, obviously. Probably some shady shit going on over there.”

  “Y-yeah. I think . . . It’s where they’re keeping Doc Oak. He’s sick, but I don’t think they’re doing anything to help him.”

  “Okay. And how does that involve me?” I asked.

  “You could get him out,” Professor Mind said, almost confused by the question.

  “I could. Wouldn’t take long either. But that’s not really my question.” He waited for a moment before I continued. “My question is: Why are you asking me to do this?”

  “B-because I don’t think it’s right what they’re doing.” The superhero’s voice was small, almost pathetic.

  “Have you spoken to Smash Gal about this?” I asked.

  “What? No. Why?”

  “I didn’t think so,” I said, considering. “This’ll probably cause problems for you.”

  “I’m not involved. Just pointing you in a direction, that’s all.”

  “Then I’m out,” I said, leaning back in the plush chair, arms crossed. I gripped my arm in tight fingers, trying to ignore the twinging of new flesh and the pain I was in.

  “What?”

  “I was just shot six times. According to my other doctor, I should be in bed, resting.” His eyes looked pained. “And, frankly, I think you need to do this.”

  “I’m not a thief,” he said, mirroring my crossed arms.

  “This isn’t stealing,” I countered. “If you want this to happen, you’re my backup.”

  “Why?” He asked, deflating.

  “Because, one, I need to make sure it’s not a set up. I get to Bellemere and people are just waiting for me, ready to pounce.” Not that he’d do that, I thought. He’d just have me arrested normally. Hell, he could do that right now and there’s nothing I could do about it. I continued to my real reason, “And I want you to see my side of justice, live and in action.”

  “I obviously agree with you on some things, things like this.”

  “I don’t want any buyer’s regret,” I stated simply. “You’re a part of this. You will know what it’s like to work on the wrong side of justice for good reasons.”

  “With what the DA is promising, it seems like I already know that.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

  Bellemere loomed ominously above us.

  Twenty minutes after Mister Drei had come to my office, he had teleported the both of us to the parking lot, having left behind the IV stand he’d been carrying. He seemed more or less fine, so I hadn’t mentioned it. I hadn’t yet changed into my supersuit and was glancing around between the building, him, and the mostly empty parking lot around us. There were a handful of cars, but like most government buildings, there was always an excess of parking. I glanced down over Esvanir’s shoulder. He had his phone out and was studying schematics of the building. “Where’d you get those?”

  He glared at me over his shoulder and I backed off a step. Tentatively I reached out to get a sense of what he was feeling, putting down the defenses I’d begun to keep up around the thief in general. Guilt, anger, fatigue, I noted absently. Some pain, but not nearly enough for his story to be true. I could’ve probably dug deeper and figured out if he was telling the truth, but I believed it, him, for whatever reason. He’s never really lied to me. Despite everything.

  “I’ve spent some time installing worms in state records facilities for this reason for a few years. Never know when you’re going to need access to schematics late at night.” I frowned at his explanation.

  “That seems highly illegal.” He just stared at me like I was an idiot. I felt my face heat up. “I mean, even for you, it seems like a needless risk. No wonder the government put you so high on the FBI’s Most Wanted List.”

  “I doubt they’ve figured it out, otherwise they would’ve patched me out,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, this isn’t even the most illegal thing I’ve done in the last twenty four hours.”

  “And what would that be?” A few conflicting emotions washed over his face.

  “C’mon. First step is the server room.” He started towards the building.

  “Why don’t we just teleport inside?” I asked, following him.

  “Walls are shielded and the GPS signal might get distorted,” he explained, pulling up a hood. “Teleporting in blind is dangerous. You don’t want to clip into a wall or a person.”

  “Then how are we going to get out?” I asked, already feeling my heart pound and sweat drip down my back.

  “Stops me from getting an exact location coming in, but coming out? Shouldn’t be a problem.” We got in the building and went through security. The security guard wasn’t the same one who seemed suspicious of me and only seemed casually interested in anything he scanned through the x-ray machine, which included Esvanir’s glasses and gear. He frowned slightly at the screen.

  “What is that?” The guard asked.

  “A smart watch,” Curt said, leaning over to glance at it. “Wife gave it to me; says it’s meant to help keep me healthy.”

  The old guard snorted. “Don’t need all that crap, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah, but you know how spouses get.” The thief shrugged noncommittally. “Doctors start talking about high blood pressure and they just start panicking.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” I frowned at the thief. It was strange to see, but he was one of the most wanted people on the planet and kept his cool when having a conversation with a security guard, lying as easily as he tied his shoes. I reached out with my senses again. Everything was the same as it had been before, but I’d never have known if I wasn’t looking for it.

  When we got past the metal detector and a little down the hall. I leaned over. “What was all that about?”

  “What was what about?” He asked blankly.

  “That story. Seemed like a needless risk. What if he had questioned it?”

  “He didn’t.”

  “But he could’ve.”

  “Then I would’ve dealt with it.” Even through my guard, I could feel the heat of his anger and recoiled slightly. He sighed and shook his head, pushing the anger down. “Sorry. Look. He’s a security guard. He makes maybe $30 an hour. He’s bored, out of shape, and looking to have a slight bit of human connection. If it hadn’t worked out, you’re a superhero and I can deal with most people this side of mortal.”

  “But not Kari.” He shrugged.

  “Maybe her, too.” I could still sense his mood darkening. There were people wandering the halls, but no one really questioned us. Mister Drei walked with purpose most of the time and I followed his lead. It’s not very exciting for a heist. Still, something deemed off about him. Not in any of his movements. He seemed like any other office worker, though a little more casually dressed. The guilt, I thought. He has always had strong emotions, but guilt was seldom one of them.

  “Curt,” I began, swallowing. Despite myself, I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look up at me. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing,” he lied.

  “Bullshit!” I said in a desperate whisper.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, pointedly turning away and continuing down the hall. I caught up with him easily.

  “As your therapist, I think it does.”

  “It’s a distraction. We need to focus.”

  “I need a distraction.” He glanced over his shoulder and studied me for a moment, then rolled his eyes.

  “Whatever.” It was another long moment before he spoke. “I killed a man yesterday.”

  “The man who shot you,” I guessed. It wasn’t exactly rocket surgery.

  “Yeah. Crowley, former leader of the Acolytes of Esvanir.” I froze, my mind reeling, my heart pounding, blood icy in my veins.

  “J-Jeffery Crowley?” I asked, wrestling my thoughts back onto a single track. He was the man who had organized the bombings fifteen years ago, back before I was Professor Mind, before I was a doctor, before I was anything except for Kid Mind. The mastermind behind the bombings that had driven Scott and Blanca mad. That had destroyed them. That and you, a voice in my head reminded me.

  “Yeah,” Esvanir said, watching me. His mouth made an Oh shape and he nodded. “Jeff Crowley, former leader of the eco-terrorist group the Grazers. He had started to use my name for a new group. Was the one who did those bombings a couple of months back.” He hesitated for a moment. “W-why I came to you.”

  “You killed him.” The sentence hung in the air between us. My mind was stuck on that thought. In the aftermath of that fight, Scott and Blanca were taken here. I was still . . . Functional. At least in certain lights. For the next six months, I pulled on every string I could to help find the Grasslands Liberation Front, colloquially called the Grazers. And the cops still worked with me, though our relationship had changed. They didn’t trust me anymore. At least not completely. They didn’t know if I was going to snap like Scott did and kill someone. It was hard to blame them, given what had happened, but it still stung.

  I used my powers to get the information from their C.I’s and members we captured. But I didn’t go on the raid, the day he was arrested. In truth, I wasn’t sure I could’ve controlled myself if I had been in the same room as him. Even though I’d helped the police capture him, superhero testimony wasn’t incredibly useful in trials, so I wasn’t asked to be there. I hadn’t kept close track of the trial, but I knew he was found guilty.

  And I had honestly tried to put him out of my mind after that. I focused on my studies and other heroics, rebuilding the trust people had in me. And it took a while. As I gained the legal ability to drink, I rebranded and people mostly forgot about the hero Kid Mind and focused on Professor Mind, the mentalist superhero.

  “You . . . were working with him?” I asked, voice dry. I tried to swallow, to work any moisture down my throat. Everything felt distant. I couldn’t feel anything but my heart beating.

  “Kind of,” Esvanir admitted. Doubt and anger spread through my limbs, each vying for control. Can I trust him? I asked myself. Nothing had changed, not really. I knew that Curt was a criminal, an incredibly dangerous one at that, but this seemed bigger, somehow. Worse. Curt continued, his words carefully measured, “He was the Acolytes’ leader. I, well, Cindi, Tierra, and I decided to pay him a visit. Cindi convinced me that I could use them.”

  “The group that Kari found you with that day,” I said, more to fill the space than anything. To try and ground what I was hearing to something I knew. To lessen the burden of all of this revelation.

  “Yeah,” Curt confirmed, “Crowley was pissed, but a lot of the group was loyal to him. We weren’t sure if we could maintain control without him.”

  “Then why’d you kill him?”

  “Fucker tased me.” The absurdity of that phrasing broke through the dam of nervous energy I was holding and a soft, choked chuckle escaped my lips. “When I woke up he tried to give an honest-to-god villain monologue.”

  “What, really?” I asked, dumbly. I reached out and found none of the signs of deception on the man.

  “ ‘You have so much potential, but you waste it,’ ” Curt began in a bad movie villain accent. “ ‘We could be so much more together, if you ignore the gun I’m pointing at you right now.’ Needless to say, I didn’t take him up on his offer. He shot me. I almost died. He did.”

  “And how are you feeling about . . . all of that?” I asked, closing the distance between us.

  “No clue,” he answered immediately, taking a turn.

  “Guilty?”

  “Not particularly,” he said. I don’t think he realized it was a lie. “He was a prick and a problem. Probably should’ve opted to do it from the beginning.”

  “Why didn’t you? You don’t seem like the terrorist group kind of guy.”

  “I wasn’t.” I noted the past tense. “But Crowley had a point.” I grit my teeth at the statement. Curt didn’t seem to notice. “I hated the methods. I don’t see much point in blowing things up. But creating cells of resistance here and there, I can make real change that way. I think.” He stopped in front of a door and checked the handle, then wiped it off with his sleeve. “Locked.” He looked at me. “Time to pull your weight. Unlock the door.”

  “What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  “Door. Unlock. You have two doctorates. Surely these words aren’t too complicated for you.”

  “I’m not a thief. I don’t even know how to . . .” He just watched me. I sighed and thought about it for a moment. He’s not gonna budge on this and the longer we stay here, waiting, the more likely someone is going to start questioning what the hell we’re doing here. I took a few deep breaths.

  How do I open a locked door? Maybe I could make a key? I shook my head. That wasn’t a solution. I didn’t really understand how locks work. There was a little space between the door and the floor. Not a lot, but enough for me. I created a paper thin hand construct, glowing lightly blue, contrasting the bright, fluorescent light. It slid under the door and stretched up on the other side and I felt around blindly until I found the handle and pulled it down. The door came open and we snuck inside.

  “Congratulations, Doctor Berry.” Curt smirked up at me. “You’re a criminal. Or will be if we get caught.”

  “Caught?” I asked. “I thought you said you could get us out.”

  “Probably.” He shrugged noncommittally.

  “Probably?” His smirk spread into a full grin. “This isn’t funny.”

  “No, this is payback.” He went to one of the stacks of technology. I recognized them vaguely as servers, but I didn’t know what any of them actually did. Curt got out a charging cord and plugged in his phone to one end and into the server with the other. The screen on one side of the room came up with a prompt and started flickering through scenes, quickly.

  “What did I do to deserve payback?” I asked, trailing behind him a few steps, forcing myself not to glance at the door. “I’ve never tried to hurt you. Not like Kari.”

  “You ruined my wedding.” I winced. He wasn’t wrong. It hadn’t been just me, but I’d played a part in it.

  “Okay. Fine.” I wanted to ask how he could manage to do this so easily. He killed a man yesterday, in self-defense, but still, and today he’s broken into a mental health facility where the government just puts metas and he seems almost entirely unphased on the surface. But I figured, I knew what he’d say. It has to get done, so I’m doing it. He tried to be simple like that. Pragmatic. “What are you doing?”

  “Creating a security feed loop,” He explained, sounding bored. “We’re going to need it. Also, downloading some of their files.”

  “Why?”

  “For the same reason I did on the Grignau home planet.” He met my eyes, squaring his shoulders for a challenge. “These guys are probably up to some shady shit and I don’t trust them.”

  “Do you trust anyone?” I didn’t manage to keep the accusation entirely out of my tone. But he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Cindi and my doctors,” he said immediately then, after a moment’s consideration, added, “Tierra, I think.”

  “Tierra?” I asked, trying to resist the urge to shrink myself down. My heart was still pounding hard enough to almost send me rocking back and forth. Between the breaking in and the revelation of the Acolytes of Esvanir being related to someone so destructive to my life, I was eagerly seeking out anything to distract me.

  “Mentalist thief,” Curt explained, watching the download bar, his foot tapping. I didn’t need to be an empath to sense his impatience. “She was at the wedding. Dating De- a friend of mine. She doesn’t like me.”

  “But you trust her?”

  “I trust her because she doesn’t like me.”

  “Ah,” was all I could manage without outright calling him out. Curt’s an incredibly smart, incredibly capable person on several fronts, but his self-loathing and destructive tendencies really keep him from succeeding.

  “She’s one of the few people who realizes how dangerous I am,” he continued, disconnecting his phone from the server stack. “And she wants to protect the people we both care about from me.”

  “That wouldn’t help anything, Curt,” I replied softly. He met my eye, raising an eyebrow. “And I know what you’re doing.”

  “Stealing a session?” He suggested, a small smirk stretching his lips. I snorted and we made our way to the door.

  “Exactly what I was going to say.” It was nice of him to try and spare my feelings. “Isolation won’t make you a safer person. It’ll just make you more dangerous and more self-destructive.”

  “I know,” he admitted quietly as we made our way down the hall. “But if they don’t get hurt in the process, it doesn’t matter.

  “And I’m sure they agree with you there.” I loaded the statement with as much sarcasm as I could manage, figuring it might get through to him a little better. Curt didn’t respond. As we went through the halls, I tried to engage him a few more times,but got nowhere.

  It took us a while, but we navigated through the halls in silence until we found Doc Oak. The lithe, jaundiced man was lying on a bed, his chest barely moving. There was a pane of glass separating them. Curt checked the schematics again, frowning, then looked over to the panel on the side, considering. I reached out tentatively with my empathic sense and found a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside of him, threatening to pull me in. Guilt, shame, anger, doubt. I probed a little deeper, trying to separate them. I didn’t get the sense that any of them had anything to do with what we were doing. That’s insane. He’s so used to doing these kinds of things, that this doesn’t even register anymore. It’s almost second-nature.

  He took out his supposed smart watch and attached it, as well as his glasses, and gripped my arm. The world shifted and shuddered. My stomach lurched, and I tried to regain my bearings. We had only moved forward a few feet, just passed the cell wall. “Is that what it’s always like?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” he said absently, a frown darkening his features. He followed an IV line up to the wall, and the bag off of the hook, reading it. “You had a med rotation, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You recognize this?” He handed over the fluids and I read the chemical compound and shook my head. “I was afraid of that.”

  “My rotation was years ago and if it’s not a psychiatric drug, I probably wouldn’t know it offhand. Hell, even those I don’t really know.” He didn’t respond. Instead, he had his phone out and was searching for something. Then shook his head.

  “No service. Fuck.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Not sure,” Curt said, still considering. “I might know what that is. Do you know where Kari’s parents’ lab is?”

  “Uh, I think so,” I said, noncommittally. I wasn’t following his line of thought at all. “I’ve been there before. We had dinner last month.”

  “If I’m right, we need to take him there.”

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