CHAPTER ONE

From the moment I woke up, there had been flashing neon signs warning me that danger was coming. An alarm that never went off, the stabbing pain in my temple, an unsettled stomach, a dead cell phone, and a tear in my pants. Worse still were the fingers that itched and that tingling that crept up my arms.

A smart person, a sane person, would have heeded the warnings. She would have listened to her father’s advice to go back to bed and realized it was the perfect time for a mental health day. She would have told him the truth, begged him to stay home with her in case one of her uncontrollable supernatural explosions happened again. She’d do everything to protect those around her.

She’d avoid blowing up the west hallway of my high school.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t that selfless or self-aware.

The explosion occurred shortly before the end of the seniors’ lunch period. Thanks to the eruption, the lockers around mine in the west hallway were redecorated in scorch marks and snazzy divots. Partially melted locks made sure that the owners would never see their belongings again. Shards of the fluorescent lights littered the ground, warm and reflecting a strange, prism-like glow, like those bags with the colored panels that changed shades depending on the angle of the sun.

And in the center of the destruction, unconscious and untouched by the violence of the explosion, was me.

From the moment I regained consciousness, I heard entirely too many voices around me.

“Jasper Andrews is such a freak,” faux-whispered Anna Torres, my nemesis. We’d been cheerleaders together before she got dropped and hated me on principle. “They should have kicked her out after the last explosion.”

“Back up, everyone. Let the police work.” That had to be Officer What’s-His-Face, the school cop.

Another voice shouted, “Let me through!”

Adam Norwood, my twin’s best friend, tried to get closer, but a few actual policemen pushed him back.

“Jasper,” Adam yelled to me, “I’ll find Jude and come to you!”

My brain focused on those words. My twin brother, Jude, was coming, and Jude meant help.

“Call Olivia for me! She’ll know what to do,” I told him. I pushed my long, wavy, dark brown hair out of my face and gathered it into a snug ponytail.

A police officer who could have passed for a senior if it weren’t for his uniform grabbed my arm roughly and yanked me to my feet. “Open your locker, Andrews.”

“Will you let go? I’m not going anywhere.” I let him drag me down the hallway to my locker. It was spared from the nearby disaster for reasons I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, explain.

This mystery is a little fun. Come on, admit it.

I gritted my teeth as the voice in my head decided to get involved. She was a part of me and had been since birth. I refused to engage with Her right now, twisted my combination into the lock, and opened the door.

“Step back,” Officer Too-Young-To-Drive instructed me. He pulled out each item in my locker and examined it closely before handing it to another officer who bagged “evidence.”

He grinned like an idiot as he removed a small battery and cartridge. “Are you vaping on school property?"

Dammit, Jude. His stupid habit of sticking his vape in my much bigger bag finally bit me in the ass.

Last time we help him out.

“No, not on school property, and I have a prescription for that. I’m eighteen.” At least that part was true. My parents thought that low doses of CBD and THC would calm my inner voice and the brilliant sparks my hands emitted. Jude and I thought that we should go along with their idea.

Obviously.

The officer continued pawing through my belongings, sticking his hand into every pocket of my sweater. He even went into my menstrual bag and checked to make sure that there was nothing suspicious.

Another man in blue tugged me down the hallway to the principal’s office. “You’re going to be searched, and you need to give us all your electronics—phone, Kindle, laptop, and that watch.”

That was a line too far.

“That’s not fair!”

I curled my hands into balls and spoke through gritted teeth. “I didn’t do anything wrong, so why are you doing this?”

“Until we get some answers, you’ll hang out in the principal’s office for a while.” He paused. “It won’t be that bad, and you’ll go home soon enough. Don’t get too worried.”

Ah, so now he’s the nice guy. Let’s see how long that lasts.

Shut up.

She was right, of course, but I didn’t need Her input, not when I pleaded innocence. “Seriously, what’s going on? I don’t feel well. Where’s my brother? My sister, Olivia?”

A female police officer, stout with fire-engine red hair twisted into a long braid, frisked me before sending me to my incarceration in Mr. Conner’s office.

It wasn’t the worst punishment. The ode to secondary education on a budget had been a second home for the last year as my explosions had gotten more and more dramatic. Its plywood furniture had an insane number of cracks where someone drilled too much and set the nails through the wood. Its cheap, paisley carpet was as familiar as the plain, lilac quilt on my bed at home. The room was a testimony to the pathetic efforts to modernize the school on a shoestring budget.

Educational funding these days, I tell ya.

While I wasn’t opposed to some renovations, the money could have been better spent on new floors that didn’t catch fire during surprise explosions. Maybe even mats for people like me so that we didn’t end up with concussions.

Though raging appealed to me, there was no use in losing my temper again. Screaming would only bring more trouble, and telling the truth made no difference.

No one believed me, not even after Jude came to my defense. We were inseparable. If we were any closer, we’d be conjoined. Although we constantly bickered, we were each other’s sword and shield, as he liked to say.

Dork.

From what I could hear from the principal’s office, Jude argued with anyone who would listen that I was innocent and that this whole thing was a misunderstanding. Not exactly true, but I appreciated the effort.

A new police officer, a woman with a slight build and a sharp, angular face, cropped blonde hair, and a sad excuse of an ass, walked in and sat down in Mr. Conner’s chair. She placed her hands on the desk, palms up, and gave me the pleading puppy dog eyes. It was just as fake as her blonde hair with those dark roots.

If she were trying to make me believe that she was on my side, she failed miserably.

I crossed my volleyball-induced toned arms and sat back with all the teenage insolence I could muster. I’ve never backed down. I wasn’t starting with this idiot.

“Ms. Jasper Leigh Andrews.”

“That’s me,” I muttered. “Look, Detective, I have nothing else to say.”

The woman met my raised-eyebrow stare with one of her own.

She was dressed in plain clothes, but everything about her screamed “cop.” Black clumps of leather that I recognized as orthopedic shoes, comfortable and serviceable black pants, a navy blue, button-down shirt, and a jacket to cover her gun holster poorly. “Jasper… May I call you Jasper?”

“No.”

Her head jerked back.

“No?”

I picked at the loose strands on the knee of my black jeans, the only victim of the explosion. Considering it was the first day this year that I wore all black and put on dramatic eyeliner, I looked like an angsty teen. It was the complete opposite of my usual look and personality, but it probably didn’t help my case.

“Whatever,” she snapped. “You have to talk to me. I can’t help you if you give me nothing to bring to my bosses. What did you use to cause the explosion?”

“I didn’t cause the alleged explosion,” I said calmly, even as my sparkly pink-painted fingernails dug into my knees hard enough to draw blood.

“You were found at the scene.”

A familiar shift came over me. My skin warmed and, if I were a dog, I would have said my hackles rose. I wasn’t lying. I certainly wasn’t an arsonist.

“I was unconscious.”

“Knocked over by your own handiwork.”

Just like that, She appeared in my mind again. She was that inner primitive being hell-bent on protecting me and mine. We existed in the same space mentally and physically. She almost always let me give input, although She ignored me most of the time.

We raised my head slowly and pinned the detective with a glower that dared her to mess with me. Us.

“No,” I responded testily, my foot jiggling hard enough to hurt my ankle. “How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t do anything? You’re interrogating me like I’m the only person in the entire school who might pull a prank like this. You should be asking if I’m in danger from some lunatic.”

There was no lunatic unless you counted my potentially split personality. She wasn’t just a badass weekend warrior with an iron will and the self-preservation of a feral creature. She was insolent as all get-out. I had a sinking feeling she was about to make things worse.

The detective drew herself up to her full height in her chair, an impressive five feet three inches to my five feet, six inches, if I had to guess. The woman looked ridiculous. “Well, Ms. Andrews, there’s no evidence that you didn’t cause the explosion. This attitude isn’t going to help you.”

“Yeah, well, I have a major problem going to jail for an alleged crime that I didn’t commit. Sorry to say that it’s not on my bucket list.”

“Here’s what I don’t get,” the short detective mused. “You’re an honor student, a cheerleader, a volleyball star, pretty. Your brother is one of the most popular kids in this high school. What’s your deal? Silly teenage prankster? Or are you part of something much bigger than you realize?”

The snort just came out. I couldn’t help it. “Like what? Terrorism?”

“You used the word, not me.”

Both my warrior chick and I stowed our urges to slap the woman. The detective caught the big bad terrorist in the act and thought she’d get a commendation. I saw it in her face, the way her lips curled into a sneer, and her body practically vibrated with excitement.

“Detective…”

“Bryant.”

“Bryant. Haven’t you heard of the concept of innocent until proven guilty? Because as far as I’m concerned, you’ve got nothing. So, do us all a favor, clear up the alleged crime scene, and let me go home. I’ve got an exam tomorrow.”

“You were the only one in the area. The scorch marks originated from you. Yet, there’s not a smudge on your clothes, no burnt hair.”

“I was unconscious!”

“I’m sorry, Jasper. We’re not letting you go.”

Although it would have been more satisfying to throw something at her, the rational part of my brain took over. Each statement was punctuated by a tick off one of my fingers. “Let’s review the facts. First, there was an explosion in the school. Second, no one was hurt, except the girl with a huge bruise on her forehead, who was found in the middle of the wreckage. Third, you found her unconscious. Fourth—

“You can stop now,” she snapped again.

“Nope,” I said gleefully. “Like I said before you so rudely interrupted me, fourth, there was nothing on her person or in her belongings that could cause an explosion. Fifth, the police didn’t wait for my lawyer to badger the only victim, me.  Sixth, well, get this—no one read me my rights or tried to explain them. That’s a bad look for you guys. Seventh, the victim hasn’t gotten access to medical care, which would be bad under normal circumstances, but I’m visibly injured.”

Officer Bryant wasn’t happy with me if the flared nostrils and hands gripping the edges of the armrests so hard that her knuckles were white were any sign. “You haven’t asked for medical care.”

“Oh, but I have. Twice. Number eight is my favorite. Wanna hear it?”

She eyed me warily but nodded.

A slow smile crossed my face, all teeth, with no kindness. “Nothing here adds up to probable cause, which means you’re not going to arrest me. Unless you want my lawyer bringing those facts to your captain—

My giggles interrupted my monologue and probably made me look like the psycho everyone assumed I was.

“Hell, of course, we’re reporting it to your captain. How about you go fetch me a nurse, something to eat, and my lawyer? I’m starving, you know, considering I was knocked unconscious in the middle of an explosion. Chocolate and a can of soda would be fabulous. Bye, now.”

With a dismissive glance, I shut her out of my world and grabbed my calculus textbook. Potential arrest or not, I had an exam the next morning. I refused to fail.