Instead of catching a dozen jagged blades in my palms, I feel something quite different. Like with the sparks before, my nerves sing, alive with some inner fire. It moves in me, behind my eyes, beneath my skin, until I feel more than myself. Then it bursts from me, pure power and energy. A jet of light—no, lightning—erupts from my hands, blazing through the metal.
SHE’S SO COOL
