Pip flexed her hand, bone and muscle moving as it should. Super healers were a miraculous thing, and she couldn’t be more grateful for them. Having a broken hand would seriously affect her plans, for tonight and for the rest of the year.

  “You’re planning on competing, right?”

  Pip glanced up from the dinner table, meeting her brother’s eyes. “Obviously.”

  “Good,” Theo said, waving his chopsticks at her between bites. “Because, the kids aren’t very good. I’m pretty sure Dyiona is better than them.”

  “That’s why we’re helping them train,” Pip said, lowering her newly healed hand into her lap. She needed to get away from the dinner table; she had a girlfriend to make things up to. “What do you think of their potential? Not their current skill.”

  Galen let out a snort of derision, quietly but swiftly shot down by Mai’s glare.

  Theo rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Pip before her mind could wander again. “They do have potential, and a bit of skill. I’d hate to see what they looked like before you started teaching them core techniques.”

  “Frog could only stretch one arm,” Pip said, cracking a smile at the memory. “It was weird.”

  “It’s a neat ability,” Amalia mused, pushing around the rice on her plate as she spoke. “I’ve been thinking about the applications.”

  “Aren’t you a little young to be thinking like that?”

  “Ugh, shut up and stop being gross.” She lobbed a piece of chicken at him. He snatched it out of the air and ate it with a smug grin.

  “Don’t throw food,” Mai said, eyes sharp on the older four at the end of the table. Her two youngest, Emelios and Dyiona, ate like civilized humans, slurping their soup and eating their chicken and rice without stabbing anyone with their chopsticks or throwing pieces of food across the dinner table. “And don’t be rude.”

  “I didn’t know there were so many supers in our school,” Amalia commented. “I mean, I know a few, but none of the ones in the group.”

  “Because they’re the losers,” Galen said.

  “Not for much longer,” Amalia said. “I think we could make them into winners.”

  “You’d have to think of a decent acronym for their new name,” Pip said.

  Amalia leveled her with a glare worthy of their mum. “I just mean, I think they have potential.”

  “Plus, with us on their team, there’s no way they lose,” Galen said. “Gym training can’t compare to active hero training.”

  “You haven’t received active hero training,” Theo pointed out. “Though, I do think we generally have a leg up over the gym-types. More practical training. More focus on fundamentals. At least, compared to the ones I’m friends with.”

  “So why are we trying to get the losers into a gym?” Galen asked.

  “Because even if it’s not as good as the training we’ve received or what the tower offers, it’s still better training than most supers will get on their own,” Theo said. “Plus, they train different skill sets than Unity focuses on. It’s more like… Training for a marathon versus bodybuilding.”

  “I never understood bodybuilders,” Pip said.

  “That’s not the point,” Theo said. “The point is, the gym probably would do them good, especially if we can win the club a free slot. Plus, it would be interesting to see how different the training is at the gym versus the tower.”

  “Sure,” Galen said. “We just don’t really get anything out of it.”

  “I might would go,” Amalia commented. “Training with people my own age sounds fun. We don’t really do that.”

  “It is fun,” Pip said, a thrill running through her at the memory of sparring against Florence. They’d found the time to go a few more times during her stay in New York, though not as seriously as the first time they fought. Pip just wished she’d had a chance to spar against Vivainne. “I wish we were able to do it more.”

  “We’ll, you’re about to,” Theo said, dismissing her. “A few more months, and you’ll be away from here and off at hero training.”

  “If you get admitted,” Galen said.

  “She will be,” Mai said, shutting the conversation down. “And no bringing your sister down. Unity will be glad to have her as a hero.”

  Pip beamed, pride flowing through her body and sending her out of her seat and across the room to squeeze her mum in a tight hug. “Thank you, Mum.”

  “Oh, it’s just the truth,” Mai said, tutting quietly. “Now finish your food.”

  “Actually, I need to go do something,” Pip said, stepping back and turning her eyes wide and enticing. It was already dark and cold, but she wanted to head out before it got any darker or colder. “Is it okay if I take off for a bit?”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I don’t like the idea of you being out there in the cold…”

  “I could take the car? It’s not like I don’t know how to drive in the snow,” Pip said, skipping ahead of her mother’s concerns. “I won’t stay out too late, and I’ll text you when I get there.”

  “Where are you going?” Mai asked.

  “I need to go talk to Khione.”

  “Okay,” Mai said. “Just be careful, okay. Text me when you get there!”

  “I will!”

  ******

  Tension twisted like a snake building a nest in her gut as she parked in front of the house, fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel. The windows across the front of the house were dark, though the one Pip had seen Khione behind glowed faintly from the inside.

  She turned off the car, stuffing the keys in her pocket and hopped out, bag in hand. If this went wrong, she’d have a lot of explaining to do, but hopefully Khione wouldn’t call the cops on her.

  I really hope I have the right room.

  Pip stepped out of the car, shutting the door quietly behind her before stepping into the snow. She winced at the footprints, ice crunching beneath her boots, but she couldn’t do anything about that now.

  She crept up to the illuminated window, wincing at every noise. The too loud scuffing of fabric against fabric, her puffy coat against the edge of her cargo pants. Paper rustling from the gift she carried. Her boots landed far more heavily than she anticipated.

  At the base of the window, Pip paused, mind racing. What am I doing? This is crossing so many lines? Was this stalking? This was borderline stalking, wasn’t it?

  She needed to go.

  Before she could turn around, a lock clicked and the window slit upward with a squeal.

  “Fuck.”

  Movement above her froze as she slowly tipped her head back, coming eye to eye with Khione, heat puffing out into the frozen air like smoke.

  Her eyes hardened. “What are you doing here?”

  “Heyyy,” Pip said, making herself smile. She lifted the bag at her side, holding it up into the light. “I wanted to give you your Christmas present.”

  “Seriously?” Khione whispered. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  “If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave,” Pip promised. “But take your present, at least. I had it specially made for you.”

  “By Santa,” Khione said, deadpan and unimpressed.

  “Yes,” Pip said, letting out a frustrated noise. Why didn’t Khione believe her? “That’s what he called himself at least. Just look at it. Here.” She shoved the gift bag onto the windowsill and took a step back. “I’ll leave. Bye.”

  She bit her tongue and spun around, smarting with the words she wanted to say. Hot words, full of anger, burning and scabbing on her lips. Khione wasn’t being fair. Pip had never been anything but honest with her, and she was still angry about it.

  If Khione didn’t want to understand, Pip couldn’t make her. Her eyes stung at the thought, boiling over as she reached the car.

  “Wait!”

  Khione’s voice called out crystal clear through the quiet night, followed by the crunch of snow as she snuck out the window.

  Blinking rapidly, Pip turned around, sniffing as her nose began to run. God, why couldn’t she just be sexy for once?

  Khione followed her out into the cold, clutching the gift in her hands. A small globe, made with a piece of glass Pip had summoned, tinted sunset orange. Inside, snow flurried around in constant movement. Not fake snow. Real, genuine snow, cold to the touch.

  “Where did you get this?” Khione asked, holding up the globe.

  “I told you, Santa made it. Or, a super who goes by Santa that my grandpa is friends with. He made it for you, with a bit of my help.” Pip swiped quickly at her nose, the cold getting to her. “The glass is a piece of mine.”

  “I can tell,” Khione murmured. She stared at the globe, fingers leaving frost marks on the glass. Pip shivered, rocking back and forth on her toes as the cold crept into her boots. “You thought of me on your trip?”

  “Of course I did,” Pip said, stepping forward. She moved cautiously, not trying to startle Khione back inside, and gently laid a hand atop hers. Her fingers were ice cold, even through Pip’s knit gloves. “I wasn’t ignoring you. At least, not on purpose.”

  “You’re… you’re going to leave, aren’t you?” Khione’s voice shook as she spoke the question, hanging in the air between them like a bomb.

  “Not you,” Pip said, taking her mother’s advice. “But, yes, I’m going to go to New York for training once I graduate.”

  “God, I hate you for that,” Khione muttered.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why do you have to go?” she demanded. “Why can’t you just stay here?”

  “New York has better opportunities,” Pip said, unable to be apologetic. Khione had to understand. This wasn’t just her future; this was her legacy too. “It’s where everyone in my family has trained. My grandparents live there. It’s where they started the hero program! How can you ask me to not go?”

  Khione bit down on her lip. “Does it not matter that I don’t want you to go?”

  No.

  Unable to say anything, Pip wrapped her arms around Khione, the girl much taller than her somehow folding into her grasp. She wished she could say the words to make everything all right, to sooth Khione’s fears and make this whole issue go away. But she couldn’t, because Pip couldn’t stay. More than that, she wouldn’t.

  As much as she cared about Khione, she didn’t care about her that much.

  And that’s probably not a good thing, is it?

  “We have the rest of the school year,” Pip murmured, her eyes watering. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Didn’t you meet a person and everything just aligned, like fate? “And part of the summer. And club meets, too!”

  “I can’t compete,” Khione said, shaking her head as she pulled from Pip’s grasp. “It’s too big a risk my parents will find out. Even just going to the club meetings… They think I’m at work.”

  “You don’t have to compete,” Pip promised, while at the same time her mind rejected. Khione was one of the only skilled supers amongst the group, aside from her own siblings. How could she just back out because she was afraid? “We can win this without you. But why not keep coming?”

  She wavered, glancing back at the quiet house before giving a miniscule nod. “Okay,” she said, leaning down and kissing Pip. Numb from the cold, she didn’t feel anything, even when she knew she should. “But never, ever ignore me again. Got it?”

  Pip nodded, finding her voice with difficulty. “You got it, princess.”