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“You’ve tried to kill us repeatedly. You tried to kill your parents.”

“I have,” Shadow Star said. Another step.

“Two.”

Nick nodded. “Okay, cool. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

Shadow Star stopped, frowning. “What? Stop stalling. You’re embarrassing yourselves. I’ve won.”

“Except,” Pyro Storm said, “you’ve forgotten one thing.”

“What’s that?” Shadow Star asked, his shadow shifting above him.

“One,” Nick whispered.

Pyro Storm said, “Matilda.” And then he pulled Nick down as hard as he could. Both hit the ground as the sound of a roaring engine filled the air. Nick looked back underneath the tow truck in time to see headlights flashing right as a van hit the ramp of the tow truck, causing it to shudder and lurch forward, the front right tire nearly running over Nick’s leg. The van rolled up the ramp, the tires clipping the cab as it launched into the air.

Nick stared up in wonder as the van flew above them, the undercarriage sparking. He heard Burrito Jerry shouting above the cacophony, “FLY, MY LADY, FLY!”

The headlights struck the towering shadow, causing it to rear back as the lights burst through it, creating holes in its body as the van reached its apex. The headlights turned down toward the ground, slicing the shadow thing right down the middle. Shadow Star raised his hands and screamed as the van fell toward him. At the last second, the shadow thing collapsed around him, cocooning him in a black ball.

The front of the van struck the ball head-on. For a moment, Nick thought it’d flip over, but the van crashed back down on its tires, the back two splitting and deflating. The black ball was knocked back down the bridge, bouncing like a pinball from one car to the next, stopping against the guardrail, shadows swirling around it.

The back doors of the van flew open with a snarl of electricity, and Miss Conduct jumped out, eyes glowing blue, the curls of her wig bouncing. She was followed by Gibby and Jazz, who pushed by her, rushing toward Nick and Pyro Storm. Nick laughed wildly when Cap came out next, thinking of clown cars.

Jazz and Gibby reached them first, Jazz going to Guardian, Gibby helping Pyro Storm to his feet. “Anything broken?” Jazz asked, running her hands up and down Nick.

He winced when her fingers touched his sides. “Don’t think so. What are you doing here?”

“Saving your asses like we normally do,” Gibby said, Pyro Storm leaning heavily against her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Nick told them frantically. “It’s too dangerous. Owen is—”

“About to get the shock of his whole damn life,” Miss Conduct said fiercely. “He’s not ready for what’s coming.” She turned away from them, one foot behind her as if she was getting ready to run.

Nick looked at all of them, confused. “What’scoming?”

Cap grinned at him. “A quick but comprehensive lesson on why you shouldnevermess with our kids.”

Nick was about to ask what the hell they were talking about when Bob Gray jumped out of the back of the van. He winked at them, raising his hand, palm toward the sky. He snapped his fingers, and a bloom of fire burst from his palm, illuminating his face.

Pyro Storm said, “What.What.”

Bob stepped to the side as Miles Kensington jumped out. He looked no different, moving with ease. No different, that is, until he went to an overturned car and ripped the bumper off as if it were nothing. Settling it against his shoulder, he nodded at them.

“That’s mydad!” Jazz cheered.

Trey Gibson followed, eyes glittering. He stood behind Matilda and turned his face skyward. Above him, out of nowhere, clouds formed, thunder rumbling inside them. Nick watched in wonder as twin tornadic spirals descended from the clouds, the wind loud, cars rocking.

“That’smydad,” Gibby said, and Trey grinned at her.

Aaron Bell was the last, and when he saw Nick, he said, “Hey, kid. You did good. We’ll handle it from here.” He looked around, and on the ground near his feet were large shards of glass from the broken windows. Nick stared dumbfounded as Dad jerked his head, the glass rising from the ground and circling his head, the sharp points catching the light from Bob’s fire.

Matilda revved to life, Burrito Jerry backing her up out ofthe middle of the bridge, the flat rear tires slapping against pavement. Once out of the way, he leaned out the open window, slapping his hand against the door. “Do it now?”

“Now,” Trey agreed.

Burrito Jerry grinned. “Rock on. Let’s make sure I say this right.” He cleared his throat. “Who’s gonna kick some shadowy ass?”