SUPER POWERS eBOOK

“You have a choice,” Chloe said again.

“I know. I know.” Beck nodded, waving a hand dismissively. “And it looks like I'm making it.”
He walked to the chest and glanced at them over his shoulder. “So I just open it?”

“Yeah.” Wren gripped Chloe's hand, knuckles white.
Beck, never one to delay ripping off the Band-Aid, flipped the top open and looked inside.

“What do you see?” Wren asked, and he realized they'd both approached and were looking over his shoulders.

“Just an old glove,” he replied. “You don't see it?”
He could feel them shake their heads although he didn't look up. The glove was worn black leather, long enough to fit up over his wrist by several inches. It lay crumpled in the corner of the box, discarded and forgotten.

“So, I should pick it up,” he said—not a question, so they didn't answer. The tension in the room ramped up another level, the silence of held breath making Beck's heart pound. He reached in and grabbed the glove.

A white light shot out of the chest, enveloping him and making him squint. He only felt the soft leather in his palm for a moment. It quickly became a warmth—a tingling melting between his fingers like hot wax—and as he watched, the glove vanished before his eyes. His right hand glowed, pulsing lightly, and he held it up to examine it with awe. A glove of light enveloped his fingers, his palm, up over his wrist to the middle of his forearm. It sparked thoughts of knights and armor—a medieval gauntlet gripping a sword or a lance.

Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the light dissipated and he was left staring at his hand, flexing it tightly against the remnants of prickling heat until they evaporated as well.

He started, looking up to find Chloe and Miranda were both watching him with mouths dropped open.

“So,” he said. “That was interesting.”

“Do you . . . feel anything?” Wren asked.

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. Anything.”

He finally lowered his hand and took stock of his body, tilted his head, rolled his shoulders, took a few steps and raised his eyebrows.

“I don't really know what I'm supposed to feel.”

Chloe approached him slowly, but stopped at arm's distance. “Maybe it has to sink in.”

“What does?”

“It happened right away with me,” Wren countered.

“Maybe it's happening and we don't know it's happening,” Chloe replied.

Beck huffed. “Nothing is happening. I'd know if something was happening.”

“Would you?” Chloe narrowed her eyes.

“Wouldn't I?” He looked at Wren, who shrugged. No help there.

Beck's phone buzzed and he frowned, thumbing open a text from his dad. How could he have forgotten the meeting with CPS?

“I've gotta go,” he said, heading for the ladder.

“I don't know if that's such a great idea.” Chloe rushed to catch up to him. “Until we know what's going on with you, maybe—”

“I'm fine,” he replied, hurrying down the ladder and striding toward the stairs. “I've got to get over to my dad's. There's . . . stuff I have to deal with.”

Maybe it was all over. Maybe Tru was theirs, finally. He threw open the front door.

“But—”

He whirled on Chloe. “Look, I really have to go. I promise, if time stops or moves backward or I start flying or shooting lightning out of my fingers, I'll let you know right away, okay?”

“Lightning,” Wren murmured. “That would be cool.”

“Can we please focus?” Chloe snapped, throwing her hands in the air. She took a deep breath and pointed at Beck. “You will call us if anything—anything—out of the ordinary happens. No matter how small.”

Beck's lips twitched. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled.

He jumped down the front steps, pausing only to call over his shoulder. “I don't feel anything anyway. Maybe nothing's going to happen.”

They both looked doubtful, but Beck smiled and waved as he headed toward his car. Nothing was going to happen. Magic boxes and super powers and smoke monsters. Oh my.

It was all so ridiculous. So impossible. Crazy. Nothing was going to happen.

Except that it did.

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