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“Negative,” Jazz said. “Too many people. Are we sure about this? I can’t get TK on the line. Tracker’s still off.”

“We can’t take the chance,” Guardian muttered. “We need to get to him before he tries anything.”

Gibby looked like she was going to argue but sagged instead.

“Shit,” Pyro Storm said suddenly. “I see him. The man in the hoodie. Lighthouse, do you copy? He’s moving toward the front of the crowd. I repeat, he’s moving toward Burke.”

“Got him,” Jazz said. “Can’t see his face. His head is turned down toward—oh no.”

“What is it?” Guardian asked, feeling jittery, his tongue thick in his mouth. “What’s going on?”

“He’s reaching for something,” Jazz said. “In his pocket. I can’t—there’s too many people in the way. He’s moving.”

Guardian didn’t hesitate. He pushed himself off the building wall and tore around the corner, legs and arms pumping, Gibby and Miss Conduct shouting after him, Pyro Storm growling in his ear.

He flinched when streamers shot out of a cannon, filling the air with colorful strips of paper. The sound of the crowd bowled over him, but all Guardian could think about was Owen whispering in his ear in the bowels of Burke Tower, telling him that all he needed to do was take a pill, and all his dreams would come true.

Tiny things, aren’t they? Though they’ll surely pack a wallop.

Seductive, this, so much so that Nick had almost fallen for it. It’d been close, more so than most people knew, even Seth. Yes, in the end, he hadn’t, but what would’ve happened if Pyro Storm hadn’t shown up when he did? Did he really believe he’d have refused?

Someone like you wouldn’t even be given a chance. And how is that fair? After all, it’syourfather who suffered.

Itwasn’tfair, but not in the way Owen had meant. It was unfair because Owen had known just how much Nick had wanted it, so much so that he’d beengaggingfor it. Maybe if Pyro Storm hadn’t arrived at the last moment, things might have been different, but Nick wasn’t that person anymore, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he’d inherited telekinesis. He knew now what he hadn’t before: he didn’t need the pills to be extraordinary because he alreadywasextraordinary, powers be damned.

He was going to stop Owen if it was the last thing he did. It had nothing to do with Shadow Star or Pyro Storm. It had nothing to do with Simon Burke or Mom and Dad. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the people who feared Extraordinaries.

He knew how it felt to have despair, to feel small and scared, and he didn’t want anyone to feel that way. If he could help them from ever knowing—

Nicky. Oh my god,Nicky.

He stumbled, nearly fell, as he thought,Before. Before and After. There was a Before and an After and I, I—

He pushed through it. Not now. Not when he needed to focus. As if shaking off a terrible dream, Guardian lifted his head toward the mob.

A woman noticed him first. She stood at the edge of the crowd to the left of the stage, wearing a shirt with Burke’s face on it under the wordsIN BURKE WE TRUST!She must have seen him racing toward them out of the corner of her eye, because she turned toward him, mouth dropping, eyes bulging.

She screamed.

The effect was instantaneous. People around her whirled around, following her gaze, beginning to shout as Guardian ran as fast as he ever had. He waved his arms, yelling at them to get out of the way. They scattered, shoving into each other. A little boy holding the hand of a man next to him was knocked to the ground as panic descended. Another man wasn’t lookingwhere he was going and was about to trample the kid when Guardian reached for him, fingers splayed, the spark in his head bursting in a furious explosion.

The man’s foot fell toward the kid’s legs, but before he could step on him, Guardianpushed,teeth grinding together. The air in front of him rippled and shot forward, hitting the man’s foot, causing him to spin awkwardly, stepping hard on the ground next to the kid, missing him by inches. The kid’s father scooped him up, holding him close even as he glared at Guardian.

“Where is he?” Guardian snapped. “Pyro Storm, you got him?”

“I’m coming,” Pyro Storm said, and Guardian looked up in time to see Pyro Storm jump from the rooftop, hurtling toward the ground.

“Move!” Guardian yelled. “Get out of the way!”

People did as he demanded, the crowd parting even as Simon Burke was practically tackled by cops, pulling him back from the podium, standing in front of him, shielding him and Rebecca Firestone. For a moment, it looked as if Burke smiled, but then he was blocked by a large cop.

Guardian moved through the crowd, those around him creating a circle that collapsed and regrew the farther he went. Hands grabbed for him but he managed to pull free.

Off to his right. Black hoodie casting a face in shadow, but Nick saw the curve of his jaw, the jut of his nose, and he knew, heknewit was Owen.

He pivoted just as Pyro Storm hit the ground a few feet in front of him, the red lenses on his mask flashing. They moved in tandem, pushing their way through. The man—Owen—turned away, looking as if he was going to flee.

Pyro Storm reached him first, grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him around.