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“I’m Jake,” the voice murmurs. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Turn off the light.”

A shadow falls over me. “This is the best I can do,” Jake says from much closer now. My eyes open. An Asian guy about my age hovers above my face, holding a blanket above his head so it makes a fabric cave around us. He has spikey hair—black hair—dark eyes and smooth pale skin.

“Who are you? Where am I?” I swallow, trying to wet my dry throat. “Why does my head hurt?”

“I’m Jake. Like I said.” He frowns as if I forgot.

“I heard your name, but who are you?”

His hair falls in front of his eyes and he doesn’t make an attempt to hide it, despite it being so dark. “I’m the Retriever who uh, saved you. You don’t remember? We had quite a talk on the trip up the canyon.”

I bolt up in bed, sending the fabric cave flying across the room, leaving Jake with a horrified look on his face. “I was retrieved?”

Again he gives me that, Why don’t you understand what I’m saying, look. I almost expect him to tell me his name again. “Yes.”

I grab the sides of my head as agonizing waves of pain flit through my skull like lightning bolts. “I’m a total failure.”

“You’re alive,” Jake says, absentmindedly popping his knuckles. “I’d say that’s a success.”

I watch him for a moment as he gives me the world’s most optimistic lopsided smile. Typical Retriever attitude.

The only door in this small room opens. A petite woman with silvery hair steps around the mass of thick steel and forces it closed behind her. She wears business attire; a navy blue blazer paired over a matching knee-length skirt. Her hair winds tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Her heels clack across the floor in a familiar way. She gives me a look over. “Good. You’re awake.”

“Where am I?” I ask.

“President Might will be here soon.” She peers down her nose at me and I’m not sure if she’s trying to be mysterious or what. I can see the badge on her chest pocket. She’s an employee at Central and has high security clearance. That plus the hoard of medical devices around me and the fact that I’m lying in a hospital bed kind of gives away my location. “I’m in the medical ward.”

“Remarkable,” she says. But I don’t think she’s commenting on my deductive skills. She approaches my bedside and reaches out her arm as if to touch my shoulder but I pull back. She doesn’t seem to care though, and in the same second it takes me to rebuff her, she moves her hand a little further until her bony fingers rest on my ripped suit. “Just remarkable. In my one hundred and sixty-three years I have never treated a Super with abilities like this.”

“Abilities like what?”

“A sense of humor too, I see.” She laughs and rifles through the contents of a metal cart against the wall.

I cock an eyebrow and glance at Jake. He points to his temple.

I reach up and touch the tender spot on my head where new bone and flesh cover what was missing last night. It hurts like ever-living hell. “My head,” I mutter, removing my hand and cringing when my hair folds over where my fingers had been. “Will I be okay?”

The woman snorts. “More than okay, I’d think.” She retrieves a thin metal syringe and holds it with the creepy pointed end facing me. “Supers heal almost instantly. But we do not regrow bones. What you did to your skull is completely unheard of. It’s unprecedented. You are quite the talented woman, Maci.” Her hand lowers the needle as she reaches for my left elbow. “You don’t mind if I take a sample of your blood, do you?”

“Um …” I’m suddenly unaware of how to answer a question. Nausea rises in my stomach but I’m not scared of needles. Something else about this isn’t right. My elbow is in her hand before I know it, the needle pressing against my pale skin.

The door bursts open and the woman drops my arm. My dad’s face turns to stone when he sees me sitting cross legged on the bed, my face contorted in agony and confusion. “You are not authorized to do that, Mrs. Kent.” He rips the syringe from her hand, crushing the metal in his palm. “Your orders were to keep her alive. Not experiment on her.”

Veins bulge from his neck and forehead as apologies pour out of Mrs. Kent’s mouth. “I was only curious,” she stammers, clenching her hands together in front of her chest. “For-for research. Her abilities could help other Supers who’ve lost limbs.”

“You will do no such thing.” His head vibrates with raw anger as he speaks. “You will speak of this to no one, and you will leave now.”

She leaves without another word or even a glance in our direction. Jake stands but Dad tells him to stay.

“I didn’t do anything special.” I shrug and another sharp bolt of pain slaps the side of my head. “I just concentrated really hard. I’m sure any Super could do it if they had to.” I smile to lighten the mood, but when the air in the room doesn’t change, I realize something is wrong. The dark circles under Dad’s eyes aren’t from worrying about my injured skull. He’s not here to check on my health at all.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Is everyone okay? Is Max in trouble?” Judging by the calm state of the medical ward, and the fact that Jake never mentioned we were being attacked, I know villains didn’t infiltrate last night. But my brother ignored his Hero alarm, and—oh God. Where’s Max?

“The only person in trouble is you, Maci.”

“Me?” My body rocks forward in surprise, a nerve-induced move I immediately regret. “I tried to help! I went to save Central when no one else answered their BEEPRs.”