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never seen her look at any of her coworkers like that.” Paul’s expression grew grim, and he looked Justice up and down. “I don’t want her getting hurt.”
    “You meet a lot of your sister’s coworkers?”
    Paul frowned and Justice took a swig of his beer. He’d thought not. He understood the concern, but it was misplaced. A kiss or two did not make him a threat to her. Hell, she didn’t care about him, not really. She seemed to enjoy his company, liked to tease him, but hadn’t acted like she cared much past that. And that was okay with him. He didn’t need a woman in his life; he was better off alone, with no one to worry about but himself. They would catch Howler, solve this case, and things would go back to normal. His throat tightened and he took another sip of his beer.
    “My sister’s great. But I know how A-lister heroes like yourself are with normal women like her. I’m not gonna let you—” Paul stopped talking as Justice took a step toward him.
    Blood rushed to his ears. Paul expected him to treat Brenda badly just because she didn’t have an impressive superpower. Did he really think so little of his sister? That she needed a superpower to make her memorable?
    The door opened and Brenda peeked out. “Dinner’s on the table.”
     
    ***
     
    “So, Justice,” her mom said, as soon as they sat at the table, which was heaped full of roast beef with potatoes and carrots, a large salad, and her mom’s homemade bread. “What brought you to the Chicago area?”
    Brenda dragged her attention away from the mouth-watering scent of the roast filling the room to listen to his response.
    He shrugged. “Day job, actually. Coming here was a kind of promotion.”
    “How interesting,” her mom said carefully. Asking questions of superheroes about their secret identities or day-lives as most people called them was usually a no-no. Mabel Booth was a superhero herself, and had a deep respect for keeping one’s super and normal lives separate.
    “Tell us about your case, dear,” Brenda’s father said, after Justice’s silence made it apparent he wasn’t going to offer up any more information.
    She poked at her potatoes with her fork and tried to think of the best way to describe Howler. “It’s nothing big, really. The villain—Howler—can knock people out with sonic waves. Makes my power useful for once.” She shrugged. “He doesn’t have super strength or anything, he’s kind of a skinny guy. Nothing to worry about.”
    Justice frowned at her, but didn’t contradict her story.
    “Guess it’s gotta be nice for you to get in the field for once.” Paul shoved a big bite of roast in his mouth. “Not like your power’s usually good for a whole lot except getting in some quiet time,” he said around the food.
    Brenda stiffened in her seat but didn’t argue. He was right; it was good to get out in the field, frightening as it was much of the time. And she couldn’t argue with his opinion about her powers, though she was tempted to throw a chunk of roast at him for his lack of tact.
    “Doesn’t take a powerful ability to be useful.” Justice’s voice was lower than usual, and when she glanced at him it surprised her to see his clenched jaw and the red color rising up his neck onto his face.
    “Sure,” Paul said, apparently oblivious to the signs of Justice’s anger. “But I mean, not as if our Bren’s usually useful in a superhero capacity.”
    “Paul,” her mother said, voice full of warning. But Brenda noticed that her father’s attention was all on Justice. Her father was a quiet man, not given to talking about much outside of football except on rare occasions, but he watched Justice like he’d done something very interesting.
    “What? It’s not an insult; it’s just the way things are. Jeez, I didn’t say she was useless or anything. Just her power.”
    “Her power saved the mayor of Chicago last night.” Justice stood up from the table and leaned over to stare at Paul