by TJ Klune
To the publisher, Devi Pillai, thank you for championing my work. And also for the cookie.
Lucille Rettino, the associate publisher, you are a rock star. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
David Curtis created the cover. He captured Nick and Seth perfectly, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.
Lesley Worrell did the cover design and knocked it out of the park. Thanks, Lesley!
Heather Saunders did the interior design and made it beautiful. Thanks, Heather.
My marketing team—led by Anthony Parisi—includes: Isa Caban, Becky Yeager, Julia Bergen, and Renata Sweeney, all of whom worked tirelessly on my behalf to make this book a success. You’re all very, very good for my ego, and also, your work is top-notch. Thank you. And to the VP of marketing, Eileen Lawrence: you are wonderful.
Saraciea Fennell and Lauren Levite are my publicists who put up with me on a daily basis. Thank you for never complaining about the thousands of emails I send you, and for all the hard work you do on my behalf. Without you, I’d be lost.
Thank you to Melanie Sanders, the production editor, and to Jim Kapp, the production manager.
On the audio side of things, thanks to Tom Mis for producing the audio, and thanks to Michael Lesley for bringing the world of The Extraordinaries to life. I’m so glad to have a familiar voice joining me on this journey. In addition, thank you to the team at Macmillan Audio and to the Macmillan sales force.
Last, but not least, thank you, reader, for coming this far. I hope this story gave you a bit of the same happiness it gave me while writing it.
Oh, and one more thing …
STUNG
Aaron Bell watched the footage for the eighth time. Even though it never changed, he had to see it again.
It was shaky, and slightly blurry, shot from overhead. He’d muted it, because he didn’t want to hear the shouts coming from inside the helicopter.
The camera focused on his son.
He knew how it ended, but his heart still leapt to his throat as the platform collapsed underneath Nick’s feet, metal crumpling around him.
Nick started to fall twenty-six stories toward the ground below.
Aaron remembered standing helpless on the bridge, screaming his son’s name, sure he was about to witness Nick’s death right before his very eyes.
He should have.
Nick should have died.
Except—
About twenty feet above the ground, he just stopped.
Everything did.
The struts.
The large beams.
Nick.
They hung suspended for one second, two seconds, three—
And then he lowered slowly to the ground.
Cap said it was either Shadow Star or Pyro Storm. They had to have done something to save him. “Does it even matter?” Cap had asked him. “Nick’s fine, Aaron. He’s fine. And he’s a hero.”
That was what scared Aaron Bell more than anything in the world.
Because he knew what happened to heroes, in the end.
He’d seen it before.
It’s easier to stand together than it is to struggle apart, his wife whispered in his head.
The footage ended.
He reached for the mouse to replay it again. One more time.
But before he could, someone knocked on the door to his tiny corner office. He quickly closed the video player. “Yeah,” he said roughly.
Officer Rookie stuck his head in. “Sir, I wanted to remind you we have a meeting in ten minutes. You know Cap hates it when we’re late. Need to talk budget for the Extraordinary Division.”
They really needed to talk about that name. The ED, which Nick had immediately latched onto as Erectile Dysfunction and laughed himself hoarse. “I told you not to call me sir.”
“Um. Okay. Detective Bell.”
Aaron sighed. “Thanks, Rook. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Officer Rookie nodded and closed the door. He was a good kid. Overeager, but Aaron could deal with that. His own kid was the same way. He was used to it by now.
He looked down at a framed photograph on his desk. Jennifer Bell grinned up at him, a tiny Nicky slung on her hip. Beautiful, forever beautiful. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing,” he whispered to her. “What if Nick—”
The phone on his desk rang. It startled him, but he recovered quickly. “Bell,” he grunted into the receiver as he put it against his ear.
“Mr. Bell?” a woman said. “Hold for Mr. Burke.”
Aaron closed his eyes.
“Mr. Bell,” a smooth voice said a moment later.
“Burke,” Aaron said through gritted teeth. “I’m about to head into a meeting. I don’t have time to—”
“Oh, I think you’ll want to make time for me, Mr. Bell.” The warning was clear.
“What do you want?”
“My security team was going over footage of the break-in at Burke Tower. I was made aware of a curious thing. Would you like to know what that is?”
Aaron didn’t take the bait.
“It appears Owen wasn’t alone when he broke into the tower that night. Someone was with him. Someone who seems to bear a remarkable resemblance to your son. It’s not clear, and whoever it was wore a hood over his head, but there’s a moment when he looks at the camera. I suppose an argument could be made that it’s Nick. Strange, don’t you think?”
“Why don’t you ask Owen who he was with?”
“Oh, I have,” Burke said. “But he’s not speaking to me much these days. He finds the private rehabilitation center he’s in rather confining. He’s having trouble sleeping, given the lights are always on. Can’t be too careful in case he … manifests. Tell me, Aaron. If it was Nick, and I’m certainly not saying it was, why do you think he’d be breaking into my building?”
“It sounds like you’re making an accusation. And if you were, I’d like to do the same. Care to explain about these pills—”
Burke chuckled. “You would know if I were accusing someone of anything, Aaron. We were friends, once. When you and Jenny—”
“Don’t you dare say her name.”
“When you both came to me, telling me you thought your wife’s telekinesis had passed on to your son, did I not do everything I could to help you both? To keep him safe? To suppress it? It took many trials to find the right combination before we figured out the correct dosage. After all, given his ADHD in conjunction with his abilities, that could lead to disaster, couldn’t it? I know it wasn’t enough to keep her from eventually being targeted, but Nick … he has no idea just how extraordinary he is, does he?”
He could barely breathe. “I don’t—”
“Speaking of pills, how is the supply of Concentra, Aaron? Still have enough for your son? Do let me know when you need a refill, won’t you?”
Aaron thought the handset was going to shatter with how hard he was gripping it. “What do you want?”
“A favor from an old friend. I heard about your promotion. Congratulations. Now, let me tell you what you can do for me.”
Aaron Bell thought, Jen, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
And then he listened.
ALSO BY TJ KLUNE
The House in the Cerulean Sea
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TJ KLUNE is a Lambda Literary Award–winning author and a former claims examiner for an insurance company. His novels include The House in the Cerulean Sea and The Extraordinaries. Being queer himself, Klune believes it’s important—now more than ever—to have accurate, positive queer representation in stories.
Visit him online at TJKlunebooks.com, or sign up email Updates here.
Instagram: @tjklunebooks
Twitter: @tjklune
Goodreads: T.J. Klune
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Credits
Stung
Also by TJ Klune
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE EXTRAORDINARIES
Copyright © 2020 by Travis Klune
All rights reserved.
Cover design and illustration by David Curtis
A Tor Teen Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
120 Broadway
New York, NY 10271
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-20365-6 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-20367-0 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250203670
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: May 2020