Reality Hero by Ashlynn Monroe Page A

backstories and more money than a man could spend in a lifetime. Not him, he lived paycheck to paycheck.
    His heard something. Stopping, he listened hard, releasing his control over his advanced hearing. He hissed as pain radiated from his ears to his skull. The massive amount of noise hit him hard—cars, construction, people. In a city this big the noise was almost unbearable, but he let himself adjust. It took a few moments, but he was able to catch the sound of a gun firing and a woman screaming. Zane ran down an alley, then turned and ran up three blocks. He never broke a sweat, and didn’t feel the exertion a normal person might. He stepped behind a dumpster and stripped off his suit, wrapping it in his long coat to keep it clean. He found the mask in his coat pocket. He’d learned a long time ago to plan ahead.
    He rushed into the nearby bakery where a man was holding a young cashier at gunpoint. There was blood and Zane noticed a middle-aged man lying motionless behind some boxes.
    “I’m serious. Open the till.”
    The girl shook, but the ding of the register opening set the killer in motion. The man raised his gun, ready to coldcock the girl.
    “Stop!” Zane ordered. He pushed his thoughts into the man’s head and the thief stilled. Zane could feel resistance, but he held on to the mind.
    “Drop the gun and step away from the girl,” Zane commanded.
    The criminal moved with exaggerated motions. The unnaturalness of each movement apparent, his angry eyes were red. This guy was high. Not good. The drugs made his thought patterns erratic and Zane struggled to hold on as the adrenaline in the man’s blood made the drug race faster through his body. Zane’s head ached.
    The thief’s arm swung up and down, he still held the gun. He looked like a puppet with a broken string. “Drop your gun,” Zane repeated.
    The robber’s fingers clenched and unclenched, but he managed to hold the gun. He fired and the bullet hit the ceiling spray plaster over the terrified young woman. She screamed and dropped behind the counter.
    “Dad?” she called shakily.
    Zane could feel her agitation and fear as she moved toward her father.
    “Daddy?” the girl whispered.
    Zane’s focus on the criminal returned and he fought a wordless battle of wills. The shooter’s desperation made him fight harder, and Zane struggled to hold onto his control. He heard the woman dialing a cellphone and whispering to the 9-1-1 operator. The man’s arm jerked again. He pointed the gun at Zane and fired.
    He let go of the other mind so he could teleport, but he wasn’t as fast as the bullet. It grazed his arm. He glanced down at the wound on his bicep. He’d had worse. The same thing that gave him abilities made him heal rapidly.
    A woman gave a startled shriek. Zane looked up to see that he was in that old, first apartment he had shared with Dina and the others. He sighed. When he thought safety , this was where he always seemed to end up. The middle-aged woman who rented the place scowled at him.
    “Sorry,” he mumbled.
    She stood at the stove and shook her long cooking spoon at him. This wasn’t the first time he’d poofed into the old kitchen. She rolled her eyes at him and her lips quirked with annoyance.
    He teleported back just as the burglar was scooping money from the till and aiming the gun at the cowering girl. This time Zane grabbed his mind with more fortitude. The crook dropped the gun and wobbled away from the girl and her father. Then he dropped the money. Zane felt the drug in his system and he manipulated the substance enough that he was able to clear the thug’s mind for a moment. The robber blinked at Zane and looked confused. He was full of inner turmoil, desperate for another fix. Zane held him paralyzed until the police arrived. The moment they came running in with their guns ready, he brought himself back to the dumpster.
    With practiced skill, he had his suit back on in less than five minutes. Then he slung his