chapter one

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I've never been thrown a birthday party.

I've been to other people's parties, of course, but never had the slightly surreal experience where I'm the cause for celebration. All the attention my older brother, Derek, and I ever got from our parents was negative. The only way they would have ever thrown a party for us is if they were replaced by different people entirely. I definitely can't expect anything from then now considering they died five years ago. It was all on Derek to take care of us from then on and at that point we were barely scraping by.

This party isn't just a birthday party. It started off as a congratulatory get-together to celebrate my induction into the League. Someone must have caught wind that it also happens to be the day after my birthday, though, so things only escalated from there. They even went as far as to blow up balloons.

I'm sitting on a couch on the common floor of our team's base of operations. I have to fight back a yawn for the third time in five minutes. I'm a kind of dead tired that I haven't been in a while because of the entrance exam I had to take yesterday. Two days ago I was just Lake. Now I'm Agent Ford, an integral part of a defense and response team charged with the protection of New York City. It's particularly weird for me due to the fact that I happen to be the youngest person to ever join the League. I turned the minimum age, 21, just yesterday. Most people wait at least a couple years until they're ready to take the plunge which makes the average age of induction 23. I really couldn't see myself doing much else, though, so I didn't waste any time.

"So tell me how it feels, Lukas," JD says, grinning at me over a plastic cup of soda that I'm almost completely sure is spiked. He tosses my new League badge at me and I manage to catch it just before it hits me in the face.

My face scrunches up and the corners of my eyes crinkle at the sound of my legal name. I stopped going by "Lukas" around the age of six. I fell into a lake near my best friend's house and was under for over an hour. By the time my friend, Atlas, had returned with paramedics in tow, all the adults figured I was already dead by the time they pulled me out onto the ice. I was blue and hypothermic when they finally did, but I didn't suffer any brain damage and only spent two days in the hospital. The local paper wrote a story about it and called it a miracle. I shouldn't be alive and functioning by most medical accounts, but when I presented with my powers a month later, I had my answer as to why I survived. When I got back to school after the hospital, all my classmates had already started calling me "Lake." The name stuck.

My parents hated the new name. The nickname was nothing but a reminder to them that I was one of those "enhanced freaks" we saw on the news all the time. The news reports rarely ever portrayed people with powers in a bad light, but my mom was always weird about powers and the people who had them. She would spit out the word "League" like it was a bad taste in her mouth.

"Come on J," I whine. "I hate people calling me that." He's never called me Lukas before, but he's also been unconvinced my real name is "Lake" since the very beginning. I'm not really surprised he's so smug about finding out he was right.

"Why? It's your name, isn't it?" he says reasonably, quirking a blond eyebrow. "Even says that on that fresh new ID badge." He definitely has a point. It's unreasonable for me to be so defensive every time a legal document is printed with "Lukas" on it, but something has always stopped me from legally changing my name. I've gotten as far as filling out the paperwork, but they always end up in the trash.

"I'm being serious." I say a little more sternly. "There's a reason I don't go by it."

His honey colored eyes flick all over my face for a second before his gaze drops back down to his cup. He nods.

"Right," he says, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I reply, taking a sip from my own cup. "Anyway, what's it like? It's crazy, that's what it's like. Youngest member, blah blah blah, they're going to release the most updated roster and people are going to lose their minds."

JD's face splits into a goofy grin.

"Of course they will," he agrees. "A new, fresh face? Even behind a domino mask, that's gonna be hard to hide."

"We better pick a good codename for me then, huh, if they're gonna be talking about me so much." I hide my smirk with my cup as I take another sip.

Being the youngest League agent has its perks. I'm considered the baby of my team, team "N" or "Nebula" for communication purposes, and none of my fellow teammates try to ignore that fact. Everyone wants to keep me safe despite what our job entails. It's kind of refreshing, actually, like gaining a whole new family that fills the spot where my actual one was supposed to be. I have Derek, of course, but even he would agree that we're both severely lacking in the family aspect of our lives. It kind of sucks.

I don't think Derek will be deficient in the family part of his life for much longer, however. He found his counterpart last year, a sweet woman named Alexandra with the other half of his moon-shaped pendant. She's working towards a degree in meteorology and him in astrophysics. Their counterpart pendants come together to make a perfect circle, half-moon and half sun. The two of them are practically perfect together. I see the two of them having a kid within the next couple of years.

The thought of counterparts sends a pang through my chest right around where my own pendant rests against my skin. I slip a hand into the collar of my t-shirt and close it around the cool metal.

The concept of counterparts is quite simple. Well, aside from where they come from and how they're determined. When a child is born, a pendant is generated, half of a whole. The exact origin of the system isn't known, but a lot of people believe that it's some kind alien technology. Before they were enclosed by government buildings, the place the pendants would appear were marked by beacons of light.

There's no registry for the pendants since it's considered interfering with the way the whole system in place already is. Counterpart tampering is a felony. Counterparts are supposed to find themselves when the time is right, when their pendants start leading them towards each other. They warm up and increase in temperature until they're burning the person's skin because their other half, the person they're supposed to spend their life with, is finally right there before them.

It hasn't happened to me. I'm not sure if it ever will. I'm 21 and most of my friends have already met theirs or at least felt the damn thing heat up. Neither has happened to me, which isn't exactly rare, but it's definitely less common. The chances people have of briefly passing their counterpart on the street or at least coming into the range of the opposite pendant are high, and yet I've never experienced the thrill of it. It hurts my head to think about it, so I try to ignore the fact most of the time.

"Lake?" I startle at the sound of my name. It's Max, or as the League refers to him, Captain Maxwell Armstrong. He's basically been my mentor of sorts ever since I came into contact with the team the first time.

I drop my hand from my pendant, keeping it hidden under my shirt like always. Everyone on the team finds the way I hide it so carefully kind of strange. Most people don't really view it as a private thing. In fact, the more people who see it means a higher chance of one of them knowing someone with the other half. I think it's far more personal than that, though, so I started keeping it concealed in my early teens.

My parents were counterparts, which is more common than not, but it didn't do them any good. The way my parents tore each other part, a couple who were supposedly two halves of a whole, has nearly ruined the concept of counterparts for me. How can two people meant to work so well together act like they did? Their relationship didn't work out in the slightest, and yet I'm expected to blindly subscribe to this whole soulmate business. I don't think so.

"Yeah?" I reply. I clear my throat and shake my head a bit as if to clear it.

"We're cutting the cake," he says, smiling warmly and offering me a hand up, "come on."

I let him help me to my feet and follow him to the kitchen where everyone is already gathered around a large cake. There are 21 blue candles lit, the wax melting quickly down the sides.

Wendy, the most reserved member of the team, starts to sing the traditional birthday song. She doesn't keep constant chatter like most of the team does which initially had me convinced that she was just shy. As I spent more time with the team and got to know everyone better, I've come to the conclusion that she just doesn't like people very much. She isn't someone I expected to have a beautiful singing voice, but I suppose that makes hearing it more of a treat. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she had lessons when she was younger

The rest of the team joins in, casting surprised looks at the small woman while I try to not disintegrate from embarrassment. Atlas and our other friend, Maggie, have made it a point to sing the same song as obnoxiously as possible every year, but that annual occurrence has never been nearly as awkward as a group of almost a dozen. I'm not used to this much attention.

"Make a wish!" Cally shouts from the right. I glance over at her and take a moment to watch the glitter on her face glint in the candlelight. Cally's powers are in a category that the League considers "grand." This category includes powers that can basically cause the destruction of the world or universe if they weren't used responsibly. Cally can manipulate the cosmos as she pleases and has felt drawn to outer space for practically her entire life. Nothing about her powers are any kind of secret. Sometimes she paints silver and gold dots on her face or brushes glitter through her hair. Tonight she's done both and the color contrasts brilliantly with her dark hair and skin tone.

I turn my gaze back to the burning yellow of the candle flames and try to think.

I wish this whole League thing will go well for me.

I blow out the candles and everyone cheers. I've never wanted a birthday wish to come true as bad as this one.

I feel warm all over as Flint uses his powers to cut the cake. A floating knife cutting slices of cake would be a strange sight in an ordinary kitchen but we're a group of extraordinary people. It's typical kitchen behavior when a bunch of enhanced people get together in one place.

A slice of the red velvet cake floats my way and I accept it, smiling gratefully at Flint who grins back with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. He winks before continuing on, delivering plates of cake to each member of our team a few at a time.

The cake is really good. Max has been asking subtle questions about my favorite this and that since the team collectively took me under their wing. He's definitely good at casual interrogation because I don't even remember him asking anything about cake.

I met the team when I stumbled my way into one of their more public fights between a rogue, unregistered enhanced man with the ability to melt rubber. I ended up being the one to save the day. It wasn't even difficult for me to do. All I did was freeze the guy's hands and feet into solid blocks of ice as well as everyone's shoes that had been melted to the floor. The shoes cracked right off of the floor with a little assistance, but everything on my part was very low effort. The team apparently couldn't let me just walk away after this whole debacle, offering me a small probational position on their team. It was completely unofficial up until yesterday when I finally took the exam and passed with flying colors. Max said he expected no less but I wasn't so sure going into it.

"What did Dodson's face look like when he found out you placed higher than him?" Flint asks, appearing at my side with a devious grin and his own slice of cake.

I smirk back, plucking the sunglasses from atop his head and pushing them up the bridge of my nose. Flint always has a pair with him even though they most often end up hanging from the collar of his shirt or perched in his hair instead of on his face.

"He was pissed," I say, my voice practically dripping with satisfaction. "Serves him right after clipping me in the shoulder. He had it out for me the second he realized I was taking the exam alongside him."

Dylan Dodson is a sheltered man-child with daddy issues who, by some reckless twist of fate, ended up developing the ability to induce hallucinations in others. Powers that invade or interfere with bodily autonomy such as his have always been considered highly volatile, so Dodson has been under a microscope since he applied to take the exam. He's already made quite a name for himself as unpredictable and arrogant, so his chances of being approved were slim before we even started the test. Even though he failed straight through the exam, he won't be disappearing from the League's watchful eye anytime soon. The possibility of him turning over to the criminal side are startingly high. There's even been talk about the League Banding him, which is when a metal band is fastened around someone's wrist to inhibit their powers indefinitely. It's not a decision that has ever been made lightly, so he must already be involved in some seriously alarming things.

"Did he get anything else on you? Make you see stuff? I heard he's wreaked quite a bit of havoc on his college campus," Flint continues. He's right. "Quite a bit of havoc" is putting it lightly since the rumor that's been floating around is about his supposed expulsion from the university. I'm not particularly shocked after meeting him.

"Yeah," I say quietly before taking another bite of cake, "it's definitely not...pleasant."

"I can't even imagine something like that. If I ever come in contact with that little shit, gosh, I swear, I'd like, kick him in the throat or something," Flint jokes. "I mean, he can make you see anything he wants, right?"

"He can, yes," I confirm, swallowing thickly with sudden discomfort. "He can also dig up old stuff, your own memories, your fears, and twist them into something as...disturbing as he wants."

Flint's mouth pops open for a second but then clicks closed just as fast. I must have some kind of look on my face because the conversation about Dodson ends right there.

I have been quite closed off when it comes to my personal life. The team knows that I'm in my junior year of college for creative writing and that I have an older brother as my only remaining family. They know what my powers are. They know that I like to run. They're familiar with my dry and occasionally dark sense of humor. That's about it. I haven't mentioned much about childhood. I only mention my friends outside of the team sparingly and it's usually by accident. Absolutely nothing ever comes up about my parents which is by my own design. It's easier that way.

Nick joins us by the couch with Cecelia at her side. She's holding out a small box wrapped in holographic paper. I direct a shy smile up to her before taking it warily. She's practically vibrating with excitement as I tear the paper away from the box beneath it, curly black hair bouncing against her shoulders. Wendy comes into view behind Cecelia's shoulder, the woman materializing out of thin air. She's come up behind me before and nearly scared me into an entirely different dimension with her ability to turn invisible.

The box contains nothing but a baby blue necklace strand with a silver clasp, something clearly meant for counterpart pendants. It's more common than not to have a personalized strand or chain for them which I suppose makes sense considering we wear the same necklace for basically our entire lives. I've never subscribed to this, either. I don't want a new strand. In fact, I'd rather not call any attention to the damn necklace ever. This is less of a gift and more of an attempt by Nick and Cecelia to catch a glimpse of the pendant I insist on keeping hidden. My heart sinks a little.

"Oh, thanks, Nick," I say, trying not to sound as annoyed and disappointed as I feel. "This is nice."

"You aren't going to try it on?" Nick asks. She actually sounds kind of surprised which only makes me feel worse for not being thankful.

"You know that—" I begin, but stop to clear my throat and swallow thickly, "you guys know that I don't show anyone," I say smally. I hate the way the quiet admission makes me sound like a little kid. This is one of the downfalls of being the "baby" of the team. Sometimes they treat me like more of a child than an equal. I've noticed a fair amount of hovering when I've tagged along on some smaller missions, but I always figured it was their form of training wheels. I'm seriously hoping it doesn't carry over to my actual career now that I'm officially a real agent. Reminders of my age like this one definitely aren't working in my favor.

"Oh, Lake, c'mon—" she begins, but Max appears and holds out a hand to stop her.

"You heard him, Nick, you've heard him already. Leave it," he orders. "Trying something like this on his birthday? That's kinda low."

I quietly put the top of the box back on and place it on the coffee table, forcing a smile onto my face as I do so.

"It's not a big deal, Max, she was just trying to do something nice," I lie. "Don't worry about it, Nick."

Tony joins the rest of us in the sitting area, settling into the couch to my right with his own slice of cake. He looks completely out of the loop as he takes a bite, merely raising his eyebrows when everyone turns to look in his direction.

"What'd I miss?" he says around a mouthful of cake and frosting.

"Nothing," I announce, getting to my feet, "I was just about to head home, actually. My brother wanted to go out tonight to celebrate, as well. I promised." It's a lie, but they don't need to know that. I'm doing exactly what I know best when I feel hurt: removing myself from the situation completely. This situation calls for this response especially considering all Nick and Cecelia really did was get me a birthday present.

It's embarrassing that what they did even has my inside twisting into knots at all. I should be grateful. I can't help but feel betrayed, though, which is thanks to none other than my messed up head. If I wasn't so weird about counterparts, this celebration would have gone just fine. This instead feels like an attack within a group of people that's supposed to be a sort of family. I should be used to that considering I lived with it for over sixteen years, but this has still been so jarring for some reason.

"No, Lake, you don't have to do that," Max protests. "Stay a little longer."

I shake my head and look around for my phone. JD disappears and reappears in a flash of super speed, the device in hand. I take it with a thankful smile before shoving it into the pocket of my jeans.

There's a loud rush of air and I look over to see Nick's full wingspan out, her feathers a beautiful array of white and gold. She smiles sheepishly and offers me a hand.

"Let me fly you back?" she requests.

This, too, is one of those situations that would seem strange to the average person. Nick's codename isn't Angel for nothing. She's actually part of an angelic bloodline. People who develop wings like hers are extremely rare and since she's only one of two people in the League with them, calling her "Angel" seemed the most logical. There's a lot of tricky things that go along with people who have angelic genes, but the only thing the League really cares about is her ability to fly.

I consider her offer for a second, stomach flipping with uncertainty. The team and I have all grown quite close in the past few months. The ground hasn't shifted so much beneath my feet in a long time and the feeling definitely isn't something I've missed.

"Okay," I agree, taking her hand. "Thanks."

Flint opens the large window across the room from where he's standing with a single flourish of the hand. He waves as I move towards it with Nick in tow. She fastens her arms securely around me before lifting us a few feet off the ground. I get one last look at the rest of the team before Nick has us out of the window and up in the sky.

The night air is cool against my skin as we glide through the soft black sky towards my college campus. Neither of us speak for the entire flight, so the only noise is the constant chatter of the city that never sleeps and the flapping of her enormous wings. We pass one dorm hall and then another before landing smoothly on the roof of my own. Nick releases me once our feet are planted firmly, wings retracting into her back as her arms come down to rest at her sides.

"Listen, about tonight—" she begins.

"It's fine, Nick, let's just forget about it," I say, dismissing what is clearly the beginnings of an apology. All I want to do right now is curl up in bed and sleep for a century.

"No, it's not fine," she insists. "It was a shitty thing for me to do. Cecelia and are always talking about counterpart stuff, so naturally, you come up every once in a while. We know you don't like bringing attention to it or anything, so I don't know what we were thinking."

I try to set aside the fact that Nick just swore so I can figure out how to respond. Nick never curses. She doesn't exactly look the part of an angel with jet black hair and blue eyes so dark they're nearly black, but she sure acts like one a majority of the time. The main exception is when we're on a mission. She's sweet and adorably sheepish on missions, sure, but that only lasts until she's found the perfect opportunity to snap a man's neck with graceful ease.

"I do," I reply, sighing heavily and crossing my arms, "I get it. Everyone is always super open about it. I just...have a rare perspective on the whole thing. It's changed my view on it. I'm not against counterparts. I just find it more personal than most people, I guess. Curiosity is human nature, though."

Nick smiles, blue eyes glinting against the moonlight. Her counterpart is out for the whole world to see: a silver wing hung on a simple silver chain that's just about long enough to reach mid-stomach. The idea of finally having my counterpart in my life crosses my mind more often than is probably healthy, but remembering the fact that a pair of metal charms doesn't guarantee love and happiness always yanks me back to reality. There's always the possibility that things will go very wrong.

"Whoever your counterpart is, Lake, they're super, super lucky," Nick says fondly.

My lips wobble a bit before curling into an almost-smile.

"Thanks."

Her wings slide back out into view. Nick casts one last smile over her shoulder before disappearing into the night sky.