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by Cheyanne Young

  Curiosity overwhelms me and his fighter stance has me aching to spar. I haven’t trained in days and I didn’t even realize how much I missed it until now. If the juice gives him super strength or lightning fast speed, then bring it on. I lick my lips and crouch in the ready position. “Do your worst.”

  Evan brings his hands to his chest, palms facing each other but not touching. He smirks.

  And then my body slams against the padded wall.

  I’m stuck for a moment, my head squeezed against the padding, arms and legs sprawled out like a flattened bug on a windshield. Evan lowers his hands and I sink to the floor. I’m not in pain exactly, but my whole body feels weakened. He must have moved so quickly I couldn’t see him? Or maybe it’s an invisible force field? Rising to my hands and knees, I say, “What sort of fresh hell was that?”

  “Cool, huh?” He smiles and pretends to pop the collar on his collarless shirt. I hold up one finger for him to wait as I drag my body back into a standing position. I shake it off, regain my focus, and glare at him. Surely I can stop this. “Try it again.”

  He sighs as if bored and raises his hand again. Again, my body moves against its own will, and I find myself plastered to the wall, stuck there with some invisible force. When he releases me, I jump to my feet so as not to fall on the floor again like a loser. It takes a lot of strength not to let my weakened muscles slump onto the granite tiles, but I manage. Either his special injection juice is incredibly powerful, or my body is seriously suffering from a week of not training.

  “What,” I say between panting, “is that?”

  Evan grabs a lemon-lime Gatorade from the mini fridge and tosses it to me. Despite it being lemon lime, I’m so thirsty now I could drink a bottle of booger-flavor Gatorade if I had to. (Not that lemon lime is too far off from that.) When my hands are too weak to twist open the lid, Evan does it for me without so much as a mocking gesture on his part.

  “It’s the Juice,” he says. “My invention, not what you’re drinking, obviously.” I nod and tilt my head back, draining the gross yellow liquid in a few gulps. Evan circles around me, poking at my shoulder and lifting my arm, twisting it at the elbow. “You seem to be okay. How are you feeling?”

  “Like a weak little baby,” I spit out, more disguised at myself than at Evan for doing this to me. My eyes follow him as he walks around me for the second time.

  “That’s how you’re supposed to feel. I’d explain the scientific process behind the juice, but I know your eyes glaze over when I talk about that stuff so I’ll tell you this.” He stops in front of me and takes a big step back, holding up his hand again. “It’s magnetic. It uses the magnetic forces in your power against you. I can push you away, like I did twice, or …” He lifts an eyebrow, flicks his hand, and an unfamiliar sensation whacks into my body.

  Before I realize what’s happening, I am pressed into Evan’s chest, my boobs practically flattened against his ribcage, my hands pressing onto his. If he were shorter, our faces would be touching, but as it is, fate has given me a good ten inches of luck. Now my face is only smooshed lips first against his collarbone.

  “Let me go,” I mumble against the fabric of his shirt.

  “Okay, but you’ll be slammed into the wall again.”

  “The wall is better than tasting your clothing,” I mumble in reply. He concedes, and once again I’m wracked with the pain of hitting a concrete wall followed by the numbing desperation of muscles that have given out on me.

  “That is amazing,” I whimper from my place on the floor. A small tear rolls down my check but I’m not crying. It’s a result of the muscles in my face losing their stability. Holy crap am I grateful that I peed recently—otherwise Evan’s borrowed sweatpants would be the same color as his favorite Gatorade by now.

  Evan squats in front of me and offers a hand to lift me up but I wave it away. No thanks, I’m fine lying on the floor right now. As annoying as it is to have my body rendered so completely useless, I’m not even bothered by it. Because now I know what villains will feel like when they’re hit by the shockwave of magnetic juice from hell. A shudder runs through my body at the mere thought of it.

  “Evan,” I gasp. Even my lips are numb. “I want some.”

  He squats next to me on the floor and presses his fingers to my wrist. “You can’t have any of this. It’s designed for my DNA. Otherwise, I’d be susceptible to the Juice’s effects as well.” He lifts an eyebrow when I flop over to my back. “It takes a few weeks, but I’ll make some for your DNA, if you want.”

  I attempt to smile but Evan tilts his head and narrows his eyebrows, which means it probably doesn’t look like I’m smiling. “Yes,” I gasp, knowing what words I want to say, but not having the energy to say them all. “Make some … me.”

  “That’s it, you’re getting up.” Evan hooks his arms under my knees and neck and lifts me off the floor. “I shouldn’t have hit you four times with it. Your body will be mush for at least an hour now.”

  He carries me into the elevator and up to the seventh floor. I manage to wrap my arms around his neck for support. The juice must be doing stuff to my mind as well, because the tendons in his neck are starting to look sexy. Something in the back of my mind tells me tendons aren’t usually sex appeal.

  “Where do you want me to put you down?” Evan asks. “The bed or the couch?”

  “That depends, are you going to stay with me?” His eyes bug at my forward statement, despite the goofy, totally joking tone I used.

  “Come on now, Maci. You can’t flirt with me during a lockdown. That’s unethical.”

  I sigh. “Shot down by my own words.”

  He chooses the couch, and although my butt sits in the seat next to him, I turn sideways and heft my legs in his lap. Why? Because we’re in lockdown and he’s freaking super hot. Some things just need to be done. If only Crimson could see me now. This more than makes up for the Aloki tragedy.

  Evan snaps his fingers and the curtains swing open, revealing the vast expanse of ocean that separates us from the rest of the world. “I didn’t shoot you down.”

  “I practically told you to take me to the bed and you declined. That’s a huge rejection.” A flicker of embarrassment flows through me. “Does the juice also lower your inhibitions? Because I swear I would never normally say that.”

  Evan laughs and tightens his arms around me. “No, it doesn’t. But I’m liking these results. Good thing I didn’t test them on Felix.”

  I squeeze my hands into fists until the feeling comes back. Then I do something that I’d never imagine myself doing in a million years. I pull him to me and press my lips to his.

  He kisses me back without hesitation and all my insecurities disappear. The worry and anxiety and fear of the unknown—all gone beneath the magic that is Evan’s mouth on mine. When he pulls away a few moments later, some of the insecurity comes back. Why did he pull away? Am I a terrible kisser?

  I say something lighthearted and dumb because my brain sucks. “Are you supposed to make out with someone for the first time while they’re half paralyzed because you slammed them into a wall?”

  His hand slides down my leg, hooking under my knee. “I’m the nerd, remember? I don’t know the rules of making out. But I’m pretty sure that if a hot girl kisses you, you’re supposed to kiss her back.”

  “Whatever,” I breathe, hoping the dim lights hide my cheeks. “This is only happening because of, like—Stockholm Syndrome or something.” I pull at a loose string on the collar of his shirt, unable to meet his eyes.

  Evan snorts. “Stockholm Syndrome is a little harsh. If anything, you kidnapped me.”

  “You know what I mean. The only reason we’re,” I motion to the space between us, “doing this, is because we’re stuck on an island together. It would have happened with anyone.”

  “Not true.” His fingers flow through my hair behind my back.

  “It so is. You wouldn’t have thought twice about me if this was any other situation. Or if t
here were more girls here.”

  He shakes his head. “There were a ton of girls at your birthday party. But I went home with you on my mind. Not anyone else.”

  I twist the loose string around my finger. “Really?”

  “Really.” He leans in and gives me another kiss on the lips, pulling away when my fingers dig into his shoulder.

  “You’re getting your strength back already. You are one powerful Super.”

  I make this dorky wink. Oh God, he’s wearing off on me. “I’m a total badass, Evan. Why must you question it?”

  He smiles and that one dimple shows. I resist the urge to poke it and tell him how cute it is. I look at my hands, trying unsuccessfully to bend my fingers into a fist. “You have to market the juice to Heroes. I can’t wait to use it on a villain.”

  Evan takes my hand in his and squeezes it shut. “It’s good to hear you talking about being a Hero again. All that ‘blah blah I suck and I should work as an assistant’ talk was a total downer.”

  I shrug. My voice is somber, no longer in a joking mood. “I say a lot of things, but Heroism is in my heart. If I’m not a Hero than … well I’m nothing.”

  He pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. “You’ll be a Hero. You are the most Heroic person I’ve ever known.”

  An unexpected ear-piercing wail fills the room so suddenly I’m startled out of Evan’s lap and into a standing position in less than a second. A moment later, Evan is up, his hand on my shoulders to steady me. He pushes the button that makes his MOD screen descend from the ceiling. It’s the lockdown alarm, a loud, hauntingly eerie sound that repeats over and over again, twisting my stomach into knots as the memory of this sound sends a rush of pain, sorrow, and fear flowing through me. The worst day of my life was the last time I heard this alarm.

  Please don’t bring more bad news.

  The MOD screen lights up all black, as if the camera on the other side points at nothing. “Attention all Supers,” says a familiar female voice. “Maci Might has gone rogue. She is now a villain.”

  This isn’t real. I’m dreaming. I refuse to believe that this is happening.

  “She is wanted for immediate depowering. Anyone with information of her whereabouts shall alert Central immediately. Anyone who does not report known information, or those who attempt to hide or help her, will be depowered.”

  I shake my head, wishing I would just wake up already from this horrible nightmare. None of this is real. It can’t possibly be real.

  But it sure as hell feels real when Evan’s hand closes around my wrist.

  Neither of us says a word as the MOD replays images of the person they’re claiming to be me. I watch in horror as grainy security camera footage shows a thin Super dressed in all black snapping someone’s neck and tossing their limp body aside in one of the hallways that leads to the Atrium. Then the screen flashes to an image that drops me to my knees.

  Pepper’s lifeless body resting in a pool of his own blood.

  “Bring Maci Might to justice,” the woman’s voice says as the screen shuts off and the alarm dulls in volume before silencing. Evan’s fingers cling tightly onto my wrist and his eyes stare at mine with the same intensity I’m giving him. But we don’t do a thing for a long time.

  “I’m going,” I say.

  Evan shakes his head. “You can’t.”

  I suck in a deep breath and let out a burst of power, breaking his grasp on my arm, but not but not enough power to slam him into the wall or anything. Violence is a villain trait. I am not a villain.

  Evan flexes his hand; probably trying to work out the pain from having his fingers bent the wrong way. “What if it’s a setup, Maci? You can’t trust this. Why did Lucy make the announcement instead of President Might?”

  Lucy. That was the familiar voice. He has a point. She’s just an examiner. Examiners don’t make announcements during lockdown. Or maybe they do, I’ve never been in a lockdown. “Maybe you’re right. All I know is I’ve just been called out as a villain and I can end this lockdown if I go there and prove I’m not evil.”

  “But why you?” Evan asks. “Why, of all ten thousand Supers in the world, do they want you?”

  I let out a slow breath and my shoulders sag as I prepare to tell Evan something I had been keeping to myself. He looks at me expectantly. I drop my eyes to the ground. “That day when Pepper was murdered,” I begin, wincing as flashbacks of Pepper’s pained face flickers through my mind. “I heard Aurora arguing with him before I stepped in and tried to save him. I listened longer than I should, I—I should have stepped in sooner.” Tears pool in my eyes. My chest tightens into a thick knot. Evan stays so silent I pull my eyes away from the floor to make sure he’s still listening.

  “What did she say?” he asks in a soft voice.

  I close my eyes. “She said, ‘Where is Maci Might?’”

  Evan’s jaw drops for a split second before he regains composure. “Have you met her before?”

  I shake my head.

  Evan tugs on the hair and the back of his neck. “Then why would she want you?”

  “That’s what I’ve been wondering every single day. Maybe she heard the rumors of my Hero failure and wants me to join her evil army or something. I don’t know.”

  “She’s a suit designer,” Evan says with several doses of sarcasm. “She’s just a glorified seamstress. What would she need an army for?”

  “Pepper was afraid she would come out of retirement and take her job back.”

  Evan lets out a deep breath. “She came out of retirement all right.” He takes a seat back on the couch, elbows on his knees while he looks at the floor, holding his head in his hands. “You said the lockdown alarm went off before she murdered Pepper?”

  “Yeah, I had just left Pepper’s and was heading home when the alarm went off. I heard screaming and went back to check on him. That’s when I found Aurora and her two villains.”

  “Aurora wasn’t a known villain. The lockdown alarm wasn’t triggered because of Pepper’s murder, but because she managed to breech security and bring two known villains inside Central.” He holds up a finger. “Which—we now know was probably with the help of Felix.”

  “Why are they together? Why does Aurora want me? This doesn’t make any sense.”

  Evan doesn’t answer me. He stares at his hands, his finger hovering over his own MOD.

  Is he about to alert Central? To give away my whereabouts to save himself? I can’t say I blame him. My jaw tightens. “Don’t do it.” It isn’t a demand, it’s a plea. He stares back, showing no emotion behind his dark blue eyes. “Evan, please. I’m not evil.”

  He glances at the MOD screen briefly before returning his gaze to me. He’s probably replaying the message we just heard in his head like I am. And now he’s realizing that he has to turn me in or face depowering. Evan likes me. But he doesn’t like me that much.

  I could take him. I’m faster and stronger. I could slam his head into the wall hard enough to knock him out, then I could … the phrase “run away” doesn’t work in this situation. But I could lock him up somewhere on the island; make it to where he can’t turn me in. If I could just buy time to find a way to prove my innocence, then …

  Evan clears his throat, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m not turning you in.” He lifts his hand, the one holding my arm, and brings my hand with it, turning it over to reveal my clenched fist. “I heard all that nonsensical rambling just now,” he says. Then, in my head, I know you’re not evil.

  “Then why do you have my arm in a death grip?”

  “To prevent you from running away.”

  “Why would I run away?”

  “To prove your innocence. To avenge Pepper. To try to protect me from being depowered. Take your pick.” He slides his hand up my arm, still not letting go. “You’re a runner. I can’t let you go until we have a plan.”

  “They just declared me a villain with no actual proof. I have to leave, Evan. I have to go prove my innocence.”


  “How?” His entire body trembles in anger. “You think they’re just going to take your word for it? After failing your Hero exam, attacking Aloki, and ruining a villain set up at the south entrance? What are you going to do? Walk into Central and say, ‘It’s cool guys; I’m not evil.’? They have two dead bodies and security camera video of someone who looks a hell of a lot like you.”

  My temple flares with pain as my skull threatens to crack open under the pressure of my clenched teeth. I want so badly to disagree with him. But he’s right.

  He’s always right.

  “I have to do something.”

  He nods. “Yes but not until we figure out a plan. Whoever that was on the screen is still out there, and you are safe here. The Heroes will capture them and discover that it isn’t you. We just have to wait it out.”

  “Wait it out.” I test the words on my tongue. They don’t feel right at all. I glance at the elevator, and then across the room where my Hero suit has been laundered and placed on a shelf next to a Batgirl statue. My teeth dig into my bottom lip.

  “Take a deep breath, Mace.” The nickname catches me off-guard. Only Max calls me Mace. Nicknames are what you call loved ones and friends. I do as he says, taking in a deep breath and slowly exhaling. When I look at him again, it’s with a new perspective. He offers me his hand, and a lopsided smile to go with it. Evan is not my enemy.

  Evan is on my side. This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  “I’ll do it.” I lift my arm but don’t take his hand. “I’ll stay. But you’re doing something for me, too.”

  “What’s that?”

  I place my elbow in his outstretched hand. “Take my blood. Test me and prove that I’m not evil. Then I get to turn myself in and take the results to Central.”

  We could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. Evan stares at my bare arm in his hand, but doesn’t so much as shake the hair out of his eyes. “Don’t bother playing it cool,” I mutter. “I know you’ve been wanting to.”