Superheroes in Prose Volume Eight: Magic With a C

"Gabe!" The alien inside my head says. “Bwa!” I jerk awake on Casa’s couch, foot knocking over a stack of books to my right. “And I just re-stacked those,” Casa says. He slowly turns the yellowed pages of a large book. The fireplace’s crackling logs cast twitching shadows across his ruffled salt and pepper hair. "I advise moving as little as possible." M says. "We’re still suffering from the effects of the jewel that treacherous female had affixed to her belt buckle." The world slowly swirls back in, carrying with it all kinds of recollective suck: Ember’s phone call asking for my help. Her coming over. Her zapping my powers away with some sort of Magickal thingy. And then her taking … I stand. “Pink!” My name is Gabe Garrison, and this is the next volume of my story ...