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“If you sayone more word,” Nick snarled, “I’m going to make you eat your stupidtongue.”

Dad grinned, bright and fierce. “Nicky,no.”

Fake Nick frowned. “What? What do you meanno? Why won’t you—”

“Nicky,yes!” Nick crowed and let his fist fly. When it came down to it, it wasn’t the best punch ever thrown. But the punch didn’t need to be perfect, because surrounding his fist was a wall of air that slammed into Fake Nick, lifting him off the ground. Before he fell and hit the stage, Nick closed his fist, causing Fake Nick to hang suspended, feet kicking into nothing.

“Stay there,” Nick said. “Or get out of it by using your other powers. Show everyone what you canreallydo. No? Nothing? Huh.” He went to the podium, glancing back at Simon Burke, who stood near the edge of the stage, face red with fury. When he looked back out onto the crowd watching them with no small amount of wonder, Nick realized now wasn’t exactly the best time to remember his terrifying fear of public speaking. Thousands of faces looked at him, tracking his every move. “I’ve had dreams like this,” Nick blurted into the microphones, voice carrying and bouncing off the buildings towering around them. “Usually I’m naked and have forgotten to do my homework—”

“Nick,focus,” Jazz hissed in his ear. “We only get one shot at this!”

“Right, right,” Nick said hastily. He gripped the edges of the podium. “You want to talk, Simon Burke? Let’s talk. Because that dude floating in air? That’s not the real Guardian.” He looked down at Dad, who nodded encouragingly. With part of his family standing below him, and the rest listening in, he said, “My name is Nicholas Bell.”

“Give it to ’em, Nicky,” Pyro Storm—Seth—whispered in his ear.

“And like my mother before me, I’m the Extraordinary known as Guardian. TherealGuardian. I’m not here to harm anyone. Well, except for the person trying to imitate me, but that’s a long story. We won’t hurt you. Your kids. Your friends. Hell, not even Simon Burke. Are there douchebag Extraordinaries? Hell yes.But there are good ones, too.” He frowned. “Ew, forget I just said that. That was the same as the cop argument of afew bad apples.Yuck. Where was I? Right. We’re not monsters. We’re not evil. We’reyou.” He took a deep breath. “But we’re not the solution to every problem this city faces. We can’t be. But we can be part of the conversation about what change should look like, same with everyone here. It’ll take all of us to do that, though. It’s going to be a lot of work, but I have faith we can do it if we join together. Who’s with me?”

He didn’t know where it started. While he wasn’t exactly expecting applause, he certainly didn’t think people would start toboohim. But that’s exactly what they did, the sound growing louder and louder.

“Oh, come on!” Nick cried into the microphones. “I just bared my soul to you and you’rebooingme?!”

Someone chuckled darkly, and Nick turned his head to see Simon Burke lifting his microphone to his lips. “You tried, boy. But they see you for what you are.”

“He’s goading you,” Gibby snapped in his ear. “Don’t fall for it.”

“Look at him,” Simon Burke said, stepping forward, once more in control. He ignored Fake Nick still hanging safely in the air. “This is who you’re asked to put your faith in? He’s a child, and a dangerous one at that. There can be no unity when people like him exist.”

“Perhaps you could be the one to help me with that.” Summoning Jazz’s powers, Nick made his eyes go as big as they could go. Not quite Disney-princess levels, but close. “Iamjust a kid. I have so much to learn. Why don’t we go inside and you can teach me about how to be a better person?” He nodded toward the booing crowd. “I’m sure they’d appreciate you taking the time to set me on the right path. In the name of unity and all.”

The boos dissolved, replaced by loud cheers. “Help him!” someone shouted from the crowd. “Show him the error of his ways!”

Burke smiled his politician’s smile—smarmy, condescending. And knowing. “Yes. Let’s talk, you and I.” He looked down at the crowd. “And let’s invite your father, shall we? And Miles Kensington. Trey Gibson. And who is that? Bob Gray? The uncle to Seth Gray, also known as Pyro Storm? You, too, my good man. I’m sure we have much to discuss.” He frowned. “And where is Rodney Caplan? He seems to have disappeared.”

Burke was right. Cap had melted back into the crowd, but Nick knew where he was going. He gripped the podium tightly. Knowing he needed to sell this as best he could, his voice wavered when he said, “Leave them out of this.”

He flinched when Burke joined him at the podium. He held the microphone down at his side as he leaned over and whispered in Nick’s ear. “You are the one who brought them here. Whatever happens next, remember: this is on you.” Then, without missing a beat, he brought the microphone back up to his mouth. “Officers, we’re all right. Stand down. It would seem I’m needed at the moment. Anthony, let’s invite our guests inside.”

Anthony leapt down from the stage, knocking the barrier aside, grabbing Dad, other security guards going for Miles, Trey, and Bob. They came willingly enough and no one tried to stop them from being taken. They just stood there, letting it happen, all eyes on Burke as he moved toward Nick and the podium, phones still raised, recording every second.

“My apologies for this unfortunate interruption,” Burke said, smiling warmly. “Please enjoy the fireworks, I’ll be back shortly.” He set the microphone on the podium and grabbed Nick by the elbow.

But before Nick could be dragged away he leaned forward, knowing he’d never get the chance again to have this many people listening to him. “Queer rights!” he shouted. “Down with the patriarchy! Defund the police! Support fanfic writers!”

Burke jerked Nick away from the podium, pulling him toward the stairs. Nick dug in his heels. “Forgetting something?”

Burke narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Nick grinned at him. “Your wife, who I kicked in the nuts.”In his head, he loosened his grip on the spark. Fake Nick crashed to the stage on his knees. He lifted his head slowly, mouth twisted in a snarl.

“There,” Nick said innocently.

He expected Burke to be furious. His hold on Nick tightened hard enough to leave bruises, but the smile on his face was somehow worse than any anger could be. It made Nick’s skin crawl. Burke marched them across the stage, only stopping so he could kick Nick’s helmet toward Rebecca Firestone, who stood wringing her hands near the steps. “Bring that with us,” he ordered. “I’m sure I’ll find a use for it.” He escorted Nick down the steps, where three security guards waited for him with the interim police chief, a wisp of a man with enormous eyebrows and a pale face.

The chief cleared his throat. “Mr. Burke, perhaps we should let the NCPD handle this from here. I’m sure we can—”

“You’ll do what I tell you to,” Burke said coldly. “No interruptions, you hear me? I will see to this myself.”

The man winced. “I don’t think—”