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Dad grimaced, twisting his head away from the ice spike dimpling his cheek.

Miles and Bob and Trey fought against the smoke wrapped around them.

Rebecca Firestone’s finger twitched on the trigger.

Simon Burke turned back toward Nick.

“You underestimated people,” Nick said, taking a step toward him. “And here’s the thing about prey: sometimes, we fight back.” He nodded toward the screen hanging on the wall. “That thing get channels?”

The pounding on the door continued, raised, muffled voices on the other side.

“It does,” Burke said slowly.

“Why don’t you turn it on?”

Burke hesitated, staring at Nick, who smiled at him. He went to the screen, touching it. Rows of apps appeared, and he pressed his finger against the live-news app in the bottom-right corner.

Five different boxes appeared, each showing a different angle. Four of them were from high up, looking down on the room they stood in, Patricia Burke centered in each frame. The fifth was a lower angle, showing almost the entire room. This last box had Rebecca Firestone, gun to her head, finger on the trigger. The goons with their guns drawn, Anthony still standing next to the door. Burke, standing in front of the screen. Behind him, in sharp focus, a row of containers holding pills.

And Nick standing proud and strong, center frame.

“What is this?” Burke whispered.

“This,” Nick said, hands curling into fists, “is how you’ve lost. All you’ve said since stepping inside this office has been broadcast to every single screen within a ten-block radius. Cell phones. Televisions. You ever gone viral before? No? Well, guess fuckingwhat.Now you have. All those people, Burke. You invited them here. You gathered thousands of them, and we couldn’t have planned this better had we tried. Your message is already spreading across the world. How do you thinkthose you call sheep feel now that they know exactly the kind of man you are?”

Burke whirled around, rage filling his face.

Anthony pulled the door open, but before it could even get partway, Nick jerked his head, and the door slammed closed, followed by the sound of the lock clicking back into place. Fireworks burst outside the window, so much like the spark in Nick’s head, the room a kaleidoscope of fractured color.

Nick bowed slightly, one hand across his chest, the other behind him. “And now, a catchphrase. I’m pretty proud of it. Thought it up myself and everything. You ready?” He grinned as he stood upright, looking up at the ceiling. What came next was a battle cry, a song of war.“It’s time to burn!”

The ceiling panels expanded, cracked, breaking apart as a great burst of fire rained down, Pyro Storm at its center. He hit the floor in a crouch, flames snapping around him, the red lenses in his helmet flashing brightly as he turned his head toward Patricia Burke. “You ran away before we could finish last time. Let’s go again.”

And then he launched himself toward her. Patricia snarled at him, stumbling back, the smoke around her collapsing. The Dad Squad plummeted toward the floor, but before they crashed into it, Nick raised his hands. Pyro Storm collided with Patricia, knocking her off her feet right as Nick caught the Dad Squad, bodies jerking as they came to a sudden stop a few feet above the floor.

His vision exploded when a fist connected with the side of his head, breaking his concentration. The Dad Squad fell the remaining distance, Miles and Trey groaning, Bob and Dad already pushing themselves up.

Before he could recover, another fist flew toward Nick’s face. He managed to grab it before it hit him. Burke’s eyes widened comically as Nick spun on his heels “Dad!” Nick shouted midturn. “Coming your way!”

He let Burke go, flinging him toward his father. “This is for hurting my kid,” Dad snarled before uppercutting Burke in thechin. Burke flew back against the bay of windows, a spiderweb of cracks snapping along the glass. Dazed, he rubbed his hand along his jaw. Nick was about to charge toward him when arms wrapped around him from behind, lifting him up off the floor.

Anthony’s breath was hot against his ear. “Caught you.” His big arms squeezed around Nick, the bones in Nick’s chest groaning in protest as Burke approached, eyes glittering as fireworks burst behind him.

“Bitch, youthought,” Nick growled. “Backflip of Chaos!”

Except it didn’t work. Anthony was too heavy, and Nick’s feet couldn’t reach the floor. All he succeeded in doing was wiggling in the asshole’s arms. Anthony chuckled until Nick turned his head and sank his teeth into the meat of the bicep wrapped around him as hard as he could. Anthony bellowed in pain, dropping Nick. He whirled around, only to be tackled by Anthony to the floor. The impact was immense, and Nick wheezed when the large man landed on top of him.

“Hey,” Nick managed to choke out as Anthony loomed above him. “Have you met the ceiling yet? No? Let me introduce you.” With all his might, hepushed,and Anthony flew upward in a blur, crashing into the ceiling panels, which caved in around him. Nick rolled out of the way as Anthony fell back down, hitting the floor with a terrible crunch, shards of the ceiling hitting his back. He groaned quietly but didn’t rise.

Nick shot to his feet in time to see the Dad Squad grappling with the three remaining goons, Miles jumping on one of their backs, beating him upside the head with his fist. Pyro Storm ducked an attack from Patricia, ice and smoke amassing into a roiling whip, hitting the glass containers full of pills, shattering them, spilling their contents onto the floor. He responded with a ball of fire, but Patricia was already on the defense, pulling water out of the goddamnairin a wave in front of her. The fireball struck it, steam billowing as the water doused the flames.

Nick was about to charge toward Pyro Storm when the double doors burst open, wood splintering, hinges shrieking. More people poured in—at least a dozen—guns drawn, all wearingblack security uniforms and grim expressions. Burke cried, “Kill them! Kill themall!” but before the new group could do as asked, Nick brought his arms back and the spark in his head flared. He thrust his arms forward, and Anthony lifted off the floor, arms dangling, head lolling as he flew across the room, striking Burke’s security force, knocking them down.

“I’ll do it myself,” Burke snarled, and rushed toward Nick. He took three steps before a gun went off. Burke’s left shoulder jerked back as blood bloomed on his shirt like a rose. He groaned, hand going to the wound, pressing down.

Rebecca Firestone said, “The next one goes in your head. They may not kill, but I have no problem with it. After what you did to my father, I’ll—” She gasped when the gun was ripped from her hands and flung across the room, bouncing off a window, causing more cracks to appear.

Patricia Burke stood in the center of the room, hair billowing around her as the air begin to spin, picking up debris like a tornado. The lights above flickered, and Pyro Storm groaned against a thick column of writhing smoke that held him on the floor. “You shot him,” Patricia whispered. “Howdareyou!”