The Supervillain and Me (Morriston Superheroes #1)

Chapter One

They never stood a chance.

Tires screamed as the van sped around the corner. It hopped the curb, and the vehicle jolted, the back door swinging open, spilling a sack of priceless artifacts—paintings, sculptures, anything and everything the thieves could snatch from the Morriston History Museum. Not that it mattered. They would be apprehended quickly. They always were.

A golden platter slid from the back of the van, spinning like a top in the middle of Fifth Avenue's busy intersection before falling still. Rotor blades flapped as a helicopter hovered overhead, a cameraman dangling out the door, filming the scene for the world to see.

But the real show was just beginning.

It started with a shadow—long and narrow, stretching over the river where the wharf met the city. The shape grew, widening as it torpedoed to the ground. Blink and you'd miss it. A red blur shot through the air into the back of the van, stopping it from traveling down the ramp to the riverbank, where a boat waited at the docks. Brakes screeched. The van spun in a tight circle, coming to a crunching halt against a guardrail. Dozens more relics fell through the doors, landing in a heap at the side of the road. The camera feed from the helicopter shook as the man inside struggled to get closer.

Smoke curled into the air.

The passenger door opened slowly.

The hero who emerged wore a bright red suit, paired with a mask that covered the cheeky grin likely unfolding across his face. As he forced the thieves—a young man and woman—toward the onslaught of police officers, the crowd on the sidewalks erupted, cheering his name.

"Red Comet! Red Comet! Red Comet!"

I wanted to barf.

"Abby, wasn't that the coolest thing ever?" my best friend, Sarah, put away her cell phone, silencing the video clip of Red Comet's latest rescue as we took our seats in the school auditorium for a Friday-afternoon assembly.

"Anyway," she continued, "do you want to go out somewhere tonight? I just bought a new Taser." She unzipped her purse to show me. "You can't go wrong with glitter and pink."

"Well, at least it's better than the can of pepper spray you accidentally shot in your eye last month."

"Hey, now. My screams of agony kept that guy from stealing my car out of the mall parking lot. I call that a win."

I wished I could have laughed, but in reality the crime in Morriston had grown to such a height that we would be stupid to step outside without some form of protection. Gangs and muggers ran rampant, and then there was that one guy who robbed the mini-mart on Bay Street every Thursday evening like clockwork. After a while, people started making light of the situation just to spare themselves the pain. The pickpocket stole my homework was a common joke among students. The police and the supers were stretched thin, and my father, Morriston's longest-tenured mayor, was running himself into the ground to contain it.

Taser or not, I couldn't give Sarah a definitive answer. I was too busy dreading the upcoming assembly. According to Principal Davis, Morriston High had managed to wrangle a famous surprise guest. Surprises had a tendency to make my stomach sour and my palms sweat.

What a shame that Morriston was full of surprises.

It started and ended with the supers. All things did. The nationwide obsession with the heroes had existed far longer than the seventeen years I'd been alive, and would no doubt live on for decades after. Some called them celebrities, others called them gods, but it couldn't be denied that their inhuman abilities had led them to become somewhat of a saving grace throughout the country. Literally. They worked in conjunction with the police forces, but everyone knew the supers stopped crime faster, more efficiently, and . . . they did it while wearing tights.