Super Hot (a Superlovin' novella)

by Andrews, Vivi

  Eisenmann frowned at the empty chat window. She hadn’t been on in a couple days. Which wasn’t unheard of, but it always made him nervous when she went too long without checking in. Would he even know if something had happened to her? Maybe he could ask Darla. She probably had contacts inside Area Nine.

  Of course, that would mean he had to call Darla and he wasn’t ready to face his friends. He wasn’t himself anymore and didn’t want the reminder of what he used to be.

  He checked his email. No reply from Tandy.

  Would she come? They’d parted on relatively good terms, he thought, but he had nearly set her on fire.

  Twice.

  The fire sparked, igniting a printout resting beneath his palm. He cursed and put it out, shoving back his chair. Time to hit the treadmill, apparently.

  He was three steps from the gym when he heard something. Something that sounded distinctly like high heels approaching down a long underground tunnel.

  The heels stopped, the door chirped, and the vault doors slid back, revealing Tandy Nightwing with a small, mischievous smile curving her lips. “Hey, Doc. What’s up?”

  He squashed the flare of something he experienced when she stepped over the threshold. It was good, whatever that flash of feeling was, but it was strong, and the fire liked strong emotion way too much. So he focused on business. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Anytime.” She smiled.

  And there it was again. That flash of… what? Happiness? Was he glad to see her?

  Of course he was. She held his hope for survival in her genes. But he knew what that hope felt like and this was something different. Something more.

  Luckily he was a master of ignoring his feelings. Years of practice. So he waved her toward a chair and got down to business. “You’re probably going to want to sit down for this.”

  * * * * *

  Tandy had never figured out why people thought seated was the best position in which to receive bad news. Purely selfish on the part of the news-giver, no doubt, in that they didn’t want to be responsible for catching you if you fainted. But really, there was no good position for bad news. Except maybe face down on a massage table with a hot guy named Sven rubbing oil all over you.

  “I’m not dying or anything, am I?” she asked as she took the proffered chair.

  “No. Nothing like that.” Eisenmann grabbed another chair, swung it around backwards and straddled it facing her, muscular arms folded over the back. He was slightly more appropriately attired today—jeans, a green Henley with the sleeves pushed up, but still with the bare feet. She was really developing a thing for those bare feet.

  “Don’t punch me,” he began. “But I have your blood results and they were conclusive. I even got second and third opinions. It’s indisputable. You do have a power, Tandy. It’s just not one any of the automated blood tests run to determine powers would have caught because it’s one we’ve never seen before. You’re like an antidote. An anti-power.” When she didn’t immediately react, he shifted back in his chair. “I thought you should know.”

  She didn’t believe him.

  Oh, she knew he was telling the truth. Eisenmann wouldn’t lie about something like this. Not knowing how important it was to her. But even knowing he was being one hundred percent honest, even knowing he would have been diligent and thorough and never come to her unless he was absolutely certain, she just couldn’t make herself believe a single word of it.

  Maybe it was denial, but it didn’t feel like denial. It felt like fact. The basic fact of her life. Tandy Nightwing did not have powers. That couldn’t change.

  Could it?

  “Is this why you asked me to come? To tell me about my… this?”

  “That and to ask for your help again.”

  She’d planned to help him—hadn’t she just been thinking that she wished there was more she could do?—but now she couldn’t seem to get the words out. Everything felt wrong. He was wrong. He just was.

  “I need to get readings of what happens when you actively use your powers.”

  But I don’t have powers.

  “Brain scans, blood pressure, hormone levels—whatever activates in your body when you are dampening powers.”

  I don’t. I can’t.

  “Obviously we’ll need to enlist the help of someone who can use their powers against you in a controlled way. We can’t risk using my pyrokinetics.” He shoved off his chair, launching himself out of it, as if too excited to sit still any longer. Tandy sat immobile, numb as he moved around her in a whirlwind of hope. “Darla would volunteer in a heartbeat, but if your powers dampen both her strength and her gravity manipulation, she might actually be injured in a fall.” He paced, little licks of fire appearing and disappearing at his fingertips. She wondered if he even noticed they were there. “No, it has to be someone who won’t be harmed by the temporary removal of their powers.” He turned to her. “I was hoping you might be willing to ask one of your brothers. Frost, if you think he’d do it, since his powers are a natural counter to mine in case something goes bad.”

  “I’m not sure he can ice an actual fire,” Tandy protested, with the only bit of logic her brain was willing to supply.

  “I was referring to his other talent, not the ice.”

  Tandy blinked, momentarily jolted out of her shock. “You know about that?”

  Frost had been able to chill things with a touch since he was a toddler—hence the nickname—but that wasn’t his strongest talent. His telekinesis—which had manifested in the ability to literally freeze people, supers included, and hold them utterly immobile—was. That somewhat hushed up ability made it possible for him to do his work as the Enforcer, when supers went rogue.

  Villains, heroes—those were labels the press liked to apply whenever there were epic battles and property damage. Frost’s role was much quieter. He went to work when there was a warrant the police couldn’t serve on their own, or when supers became a danger to themselves or others. Sort of a superhero bounty hunter.

  “I’ve worked with a lot of Area Nine supers in rehabs,” Eisenmann said. “I’ve heard of the Boogeyman.”

  “Then you know he doesn’t mess around when it comes to public safety. If you freak out around him…” Tandy didn’t want to call Frost because she didn’t want the man who would be called in to kill Eisenmann if he lost control to know exactly how close to the edge Eric really was.

  “If I lose it with him here, I deserve what I get.”

  “No, you don’t, Eric. You don’t deserve any of this.”

  He ignored her comment. “Do you think he’ll come?” He flashed her a grin. “Rumor has it he can’t say no to his little sister.”

  “Trust me, he can,” she said dryly. “But I don’t think he will in this case.”

  Eisenmann clasped his hands together. “Excellent. When do you think we can start?”

  “He may not even be in town right now. Half the time we don’t even know where he is when he’s tracking someone.” At Eisenmann’s fallen expression, Tandy held up a hand. “I’ll call him. Just don’t be surprised if he can’t make it right away.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  He resumed his pacing as she pulled out her cell phone. Unsurprisingly, since they were half a dozen stories underground, she didn’t have service. “No bars,” she explained, holding it up so he could see. “I’ll call him as soon as I get above ground.”

  “Good. Excellent.” He continued his restless prowling around the room. “I should have seen from the start that you wouldn’t be suppressing your own genetic legacy, but rather that your legacy is geared around the suppression of talents. It’s so obvious when you consider Frost’s less advertised ability. Your parents produced the ultimate anti-super weapons in you and your brother. You can neutralize others, so their power can never go unchecked—nature’s checks and balances. It’s almost poetic.”

  “If that’s even what’s happening.”

  Eisenmann spun toward her. “Still skept
ical?”

  “I’ve never suppressed anyone’s power, Eric. With all the tests they performed on me when I was a teenager, don’t you think they would have figured it out if it were something this obvious?”

  “Superhero science is still relatively new. There is still so much we’re learning. And how would you have discovered what you can do? Some abilities—and I think yours must fall into this category—are so instinctive they can’t be consciously directed. Your suppression may only activate during intense stress, when your life is actively threatened as it was with my fire. Has your life ever been threatened before? Has anyone ever used a super power to try to hurt you?”

  “No, of course not. No hero would ever try to hurt me and the villains are too frightened of the rest of my family to try.”

  “You’ve been protected so closely your entire life you never had the chance to activate nature’s ultimate defense mechanism.” He stalked back to the chair, straddling it again, arms braced across the back. “Did you feel anything? When you made the fire vanish?”

  “I was scared and angry, I guess.”

  “Good. That’s good. But what about the fire? Did you feel it? How did you calm it?”

  “I didn’t calm it. I didn’t feel it. I just wanted you to stop it and you did.” She glowered at him. “If it only works when I’m in real danger, how are we going to get it to activate with Frost? I’m never going to believe he would really hurt me.”

  “I’m hoping, since it’s more instinct than consciousness, that we’ll be able to trick your instincts into believing you’re legitimately threatened.”

  “And if it works? What then? What are you going to do once you know what my body does when it’s dampening someone’s powers—assuming that’s what I do?”

  “At that point, I’ll attempt to duplicate the effect in my own body, using whatever means I can come up with.”

  “You’re going to test it on yourself?”

  “Who am I supposed to test it on? There are no super lab rats. I can’t ask anyone else to be my guinea pig. Not until I’m sure it won’t hurt them.”

  “But it’s fine to hurt yourself?”

  “It’s a necessary risk.”

  “Is it? Are you sure you’re not experimenting on yourself as some sort of punishment for wanting to have powers in the first place?”

  Eisenmann stood, shoving his chair aside and stalking back to his work station. “You should go call your brother.”

  Tandy rose as well. “Eric, I’m just asking you to be careful. Take every precaution. Who’s going to cure the world if you accidentally poison yourself?”

  “I’m sharing all my results. Someone else will continue my work.”

  Did he think that made him noble? Being willing to die for his cause? She just wanted to punch him. “People care what happens to you.” She gathered up her briefcase. I care.

  But he didn’t want to hear that. And right now she wasn’t sure she wanted to either.

  “I’ll let you know when Frost can come with me. Try not to do anything suicidal before then.”

  “Tandy.” His voice stopped her on the threshold. “Thank you.”

  She nodded to accept his gratitude, when what she really wanted was a promise that he wouldn’t put himself in danger. He really was more like the superheroes she’d met than he even realized. Noble to the point of stupidity, doing what he could to save the world even if it meant he himself might be hurt, and stubborn in the belief that there was no other way. She’d never thought she’d find that particular brand of intransigence attractive.

  She’d been wrong about a lot of things lately.

  Chapter Nine – The Family that Freezes Together

  “Are you pregnant?”

  Tandy frowned up at her brothers, seriously considering slamming the door in their faces. Chance wore his usual I’m-the-funniest-bastard-in-the-universe grin and Frost glowered—also per usual. It was Frost who’d spoken.

  “Why are you asking me that?”

  Chance fielded her question, propping one shoulder against her doorjamb since she’d made no move to invite them in. “You need to see us about something important, right away, but you won’t tell us what it is and we can’t tell Mom and Dad. If you were engaged, you’d tell Mom first. If it was something about the business, you wouldn’t ask us, because we know jack shit about the business. Therefore—pregnant. I bet ole Frosty here twenty bucks you were knocked up.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You should know better than to make bets with Chance,” she said to her usually sensible oldest brother.

  Frost’s eyes widened. “You’re really fucking pregnant? Was it that Anthony asshole? You aren’t going to marry him, are you? Shit, Tandy, I thought you had the sense to practice safe sex, especially when you’re screwing spineless weasels like fucking Anthony.”

  “Frost, stop. I’m not pregnant. Chance was just winding you up.” She opened the door wider, stepping back to invite her brothers in.

  Frost let Chance go first, then smacked him on the back of the head as he followed. “Sorry,” he said to Tandy as he bent down to drop a kiss on her cheek. “Anthony seems like a real nice spineless weasel. As the guys you date go.”

  “We broke up.”

  “Thank God. The man didn’t have a spine.”

  She rolled her eyes and shoved him in front of her into the dining room where Chance was already helping himself to a slice of pizza. She’d long ago learned not to bother with gourmet catering when Frost and Chance were coming over. Beer and pizza were the best bribes for her brothers.

  When they were each settled at her table with a cold one and a slice, Chance drilled her with an uncharacteristically serious stare. “Well? If you aren’t preggers, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, exactly,” she hedged. “I guess you could almost say something was finally right.”

  “Tandy,” Frost said firmly. “Knock off the word games. What’s going on?”

  She took a deep breath and blurted, “Turns out I might have a super power after all.”

  Absolute silence met her announcement. Chance froze, mid-chew. Frost seemed to be taking an especially long time to macerate his latest bite, his eyes narrowed on her.

  “Guys? Say something.”

  “How did you—I mean, did you do something or something? What did you—” Chance, her normally smooth-talking brother, stammered.

  “It’s what I undid actually. Turns out my power might be the ability to shut off other people’s powers.” It felt weird to say it out loud. Like she was admitting she believed it. It was strange, but having to explain it to her brothers made her almost want it to be true.

  “Like me?” Frost asked.

  “Not quite. I don’t, like, freeze anyone in place or anything. I just sort of want it to stop and it stops.” And that sounded incredibly lame. No wonder they looked so skeptical. “Look, I don’t know exactly how it works yet or even if it does. Maybe the two times it seemed to happen really were flukes and maybe the blood tests don’t mean anything—”

  “You had blood tests done?” Chance interrupted. “You hate that stuff.”

  “It was a favor for a friend. And he wants to do more tests. To see if he can figure out how I do what I do. He wants to see if we can duplicate my power-turning-off thing in a controlled setting. To prove that it actually happened.” She looked to Frost. “That’s why I need your help.”

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Tandy… I don’t know about this.”

  “I can’t talk to anyone else about this until I know it’s for real. And I won’t know it’s for real unless you help me do these tests.”

  “Who is this friend?” Chance demanded, an edge of anger hardening his voice.

  “He doesn’t have any reason to lie to me about this, Chance.” Though he did have a vested interest that might have skewed his results. He’d wanted her to be the answer so badly. Had he wedged her into that role whether she fit it or not? “I don’t know if I believe it.
I didn’t at first. Not even a little. But now, I don’t know, it could be possible and if he’s right, it could help people, and I want to know for sure.”

  “I don’t like this,” her easy-going brother growled, all puffed up with protective ire. “Especially with Masha and Kieren disappearing like that. This could be a trap—”

  “This has nothing to do with Kieren and Masha,” Tandy insisted. “I’m sorry about what happened to them—and yes, I’m taking my Taser everywhere these days—but I’m not going to stop living my life because you guys are paranoid.”

  Their protective fits were comforting in a way. Far easier to deal with than her parents' thinly veiled joy would have been. She couldn’t talk to them about this yet. It was still too raw. They’d always found it so hard to accept that she was just normal. Part of her didn’t want them to have been right. It still burned that they had wanted some superpower to sweep in and change her into the perfect super daughter—like Darla Powers.

  Frost studied her. “I thought you didn’t want to have any super powers.”

  “I don’t,” she admitted. “Not like you guys have. But this is different. It wouldn’t turn me into someone else or take over my life. It would just, maybe, be a way to help people who have trouble controlling their powers. If I could teach other people—people with dangerous abilities—how to shut off their powers so they won’t hurt people, shouldn’t I do that?”

  “That means you have to be right up next to dangerous people, so my answer is going to be no. You shouldn’t.”

  “That’s just it. If we do these tests, my friend might be able to find a way to help all of them without me having to do a thing. It could save a lot of lives. So will you do this for me? Frost?”

  * * * * *

  “I’m here against my better judgment,” Frost announced as soon as the door to the lab opened on Saturday morning. “Tandy is stubborn as hell and I know she would find some way to do this whether I help or not, so I’m here. But if she is harmed in any way, I will kill you. Are we clear?”

  Eisenmann nodded, trying to look suitably cowed as excitement made the fire flicker at the back of his brain. “Crystal.”