Tempest (#1 Destroyers Series)
“I can't do this,” Janelle blurted ten minutes into the car ride.
She looked past Gary’s messy hair and ahead at the palm trees, blue skies, and pink buildings as they rolled through traffic. Paradise. If she had stayed ignorant of her Tempest status, she would have come here happy. With no escape from her fate, but happy. It would have saved her some suffering, because there was nothing anyone could say to her now that would make her feel better.
She wished that Gary could sit back here with her. Instead, she had to sit crammed between her father and Mr. Deville.
Her father started to say something, but Deon slammed on his brakes as a green truck cut them off and sped through a yellow traffic light. “What an idiot! What’s so important that they have to nearly kill us?”
“Calm down,” her father said as the car stopped at the light. He took a deep breath. “We’ll be sailing soon and it won’t even matter.”
Sailing soon. Janelle seized the armrest, watching her fingernails blanch. “If this really has to be done for some reason, pick someone else to change instead of me. The Elder Council won't know the difference, right?"
Mr. Deville cleared his throat. “It’s against the Natural Law to take another Tempest’s place. Well, unless you were to die before you could change.”
The spike of panic returned, and her voice quavered. "I didn’t ask for this. Dad, say something."
Her father squeezed her shoulder as his eyes locked on hers. “Control yourself, Janelle. If you know how to now, you’ll spare more lives when you change. It’s what Gary did, and what Hank did, and what I did. If you don’t, you risk becoming like Andrina. I’ve been teaching you to restrain your emotions all your life for a reason, and this is it. I have confidence in you.”
In front of her, Gary's shoulders slumped under the weight of his guilt. Even Mr. Deville's had gone down.
Controlling themselves hadn’t helped them or their victims all that much.
Her father gave her a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll talk more on the boat, honey, once you’ve calmed down. Deon keeps some handouts that we'll go over. They'll have some answers you need. You’ll feel better. I promise.”
Sure. Once she was spinning over the Atlantic.
Deon made a turn past a colonial-style building and down a road lined with streetlamps. Downhill, the blue of the ocean stretched out as far as she could see and sparkled like broken glass. Rows of white boats bobbed up and down along a fenced dock.
Janelle’s heart leapt into her throat as a painful spasm gripped her stomach. Would it be worth it to go on the boat and learn whatever her dad wanted to go over with her? But if she got on, there would be no turning around or going back. She needed to stall at all costs.
“I’ve got to go to the bathroom before we go," she said, crossing her legs. “Sorry, but I couldn't go at the airport."
“My yacht has one,” Deon said. “It’ll be a two days’ journey before we’re out to a point where you can change. I’m ready to have four people for that time.”
The ocean loomed larger as the car rolled closer to a closed gate. The now-familiar tingle spread through her limbs, threatening to devour her. She squeezed her legs tighter together, squirming. “It’s an emergency.”
Her words fell on deaf ears. Deon leapt out of the car and undid the marina gate, sliding it open as if it were a piece of cardboard.
Her father faced her, forcing a smile. “His yacht's not a very lavish one like Andrina’s, but it can meet our needs for a few days. I sailed out in it when my mom took me to Bermuda. It’s quite comfortable.”
"Stop trying to change the subject," she said. "Please, either just tell me what's on those handouts you want me to read or let me go use a bathroom. Preferably both."
Deon hopped back into the car before her father could respond. “Let’s go set sail.”
“Geez, let her go to the bathroom.” Gary glared back at her father.
“No,” Mr. Deville and her dad said at the same time.
The car rolled past the pink marina office and turned into the parking lot. The green truck that had cut them off earlier sat there, but no driver occupied it. Several couples walked down the docks—away from them, of course—and onto their boats. One was pulling out of the row and turning around to depart into the beautiful day. A blood-red sail flapped on top of one of them as if beckoning to her.
The color seemed to settle inside her like a warning, refreshing her terror. If I get on the boat, I'll kill people. Nothing her father could say would change that.
Deon shifted the car into park. Her father took her arm and pushed open his door without a word. "Come on. It's right down the row."
Icy panic raced through her veins. Janelle slid across the seat, flailing and catching her foot on the rim of the door. But with another tug from her dad, it slipped and landed on the pavement outside.
With a yank, she broke her father’s grip and backed against the hot car. Escape. She needed one, now. She could run. Scream. Someone would come. The gate stood tall at the top of the hill, but she had to go for it.
Janelle whirled around just in time for Mr. Deville's chubby frame to appear to block the way. She slammed into him as his arms wrapped her in a bear hug. Gary tugged at him from behind, but it was no use as her father caught his arms.
Mr. Deville’s grip tightened around her. “Boat. Now.”
Everyone else had left, leaving only a seagull to peck at some crumbs on the concrete. The manned yachts were pulling farther and farther away, leaving them alone.
“Come on. Quick,” her father said, leading Gary towards the docks. All the fake joy had left his expression and stride.
Words had abandoned her. Janelle dragged her feet against the concrete, then the planks of the dock as Mr. Deville forced her ahead. Another stiff ocean breeze hit Janelle’s nostrils. The water rippled feet below. If she could only climb over the rope fence and dive in--
No!
A monster was growing inside. Could she do anything to slow it down? She felt as if a hole had opened inside, and she was falling in, drowning in its waters.
Deon stopped, peering around the hull of the next boat. Her father barely stopped in time to avoid smacking into him. Deon let loose a long string of swearing. “They…they…”
Mr. Deville forced her past the sailboat and stopped. One of the yachts—Deon’s from the look on the man’s face—had listed back like the sinking Titanic. Cushions, curtains, and even a life preserver floated out of a huge hole in the side.
“Who did this?” her uncle said behind her, unable to hide the nerves in his voice.
Janelle tensed. She nodded to Gary, and he returned it but said nothing. Andrina had ordered someone to do this. This couldn’t be good. That meant she might be close. And that was even worse than going out on Deon’s boat.
The green truck cutting them off in traffic came to mind.
“Hi, Deon.” A high-pitched female voice floated down from the neighboring sailboat.
Janelle jumped in place and followed the voice to see a woman with curly black hair on top of the sailboat, smiling down at them. She had one arm wrapped around the mast of the blood-red sail, and her pink tank top did nothing to hide the gray spiral on her left arm.
“Ivanna!” Deon’s voice echoed off the marina office. Then he lowered his voice. “Tempests aren’t supposed to do this to each other.”
Janelle shot Gary a look of horror to watch him return it. Ivanna? Another infamous hurricane?
“Dad, we need to go,” she said. But her father hadn’t heard. He watched the scene.
“Well, if you hadn’t kicked me out, maybe I wouldn’t have done this.” She waved as if swatting a bug away. “Even so, it's nothing that personal. Economy's tough right now, and I'm just looking for a bit of cash."
The reward. Ivanna was after it.
“Dad,” Janelle repeated.
>
He flinched. She’d broken his trance. Deon clenched his fists, aiming insults at her. Her father took his shoulder and gave it a desperate squeeze.
Mr. Deville slapped Deon on the back. "We need to leave.”
Her newfound uncle released her, only to take her other arm a second later. Gary and her father ran behind her, shoes pounding on the boards under them. At the moment, she didn't care. Wherever they took her, it was better than Andrina catching up with them.
A metallic squeal sounded somewhere down the dock as Ivanna let out a cry. A whoosh cut through the air, getting louder and louder.
Something red and white crashed down between the dock entrance and the parking lot, splintering boards and blocking the way. The dock trembled underfoot. Janelle gripped the rope fence and skidded to a stop, burning her palm.
An entire sail—and its mast—lay between them and the parking lot. On both sides, only ocean waited, leaving them no escape. Ivanna had ripped it off a boat and thrown it with her bare hands.
Mr. Deville let go of her. Her father appeared at her side, slapping her on the back and freeing her from the shock. “We can remove this. We’ve got to leave before Andrina gets here.”
Her father was asking her to lift a thousand-pound mast and toss it aside. She glanced at her small arms again, but another tingle through her body reminded her that it was a deception, like it or not.
"Okay."
Janelle hooked her palms under the mast, right next to her father and her uncle. Red fabric pushed against her face, making her hair stand up. Behind her, Gary and Deon could only watch, unable to squeeze in without going off the side of the dock.
The sail started to lift like a huge piece of rice paper, barely weighing down on her arms as she hoisted it up.
Her father lifted beside her. “Just throw this off the side and we’re home free.”
“I can’t be doing this.” Janelle lifted the pole up to her chest level. She could see the pavement of the parking lot now. Higher. More of the parking lot came into view, and then a pair of high heels, and then a pair of slender gray pant legs…
“Dad, put it back down!”
Her father’s glasses shined in the sun as his mouth fell open. “Why?”
Janelle didn’t get a chance to answer.
Another pair of hands seized the pole from behind, stretching out the sail like a tiger's claws struggling to rip through. With another whoosh, it sailed through the air and crashed onto the top of another boat. Something shattered, echoing off the building.
Gary muttered a curse behind her, unable to hide the panic in his voice.
Andrina stood at the mouth of the dock, wearing a triumphant smile. The bright sun only made her eyes darker as she stared down her father. “I know you too well, Lucas. Relying on your old friend again to cart her away from me?”
Janelle backed into Gary. He took her arm and squeezed. The whole world seemed to shrink around Andrina, leaving her the only thing that mattered.
Her father made to move between them, to act as a shield, but Andrina peered around him and smiled at her, the glare melted away. “There's no reason to be scared of me, Janelle."
“You killed eight hundred people on purpose.” Janelle’s voice came out stronger than she thought. “You’re disgusting!”
Andrina doubled back. Hurt flashed across her features. “It was eight hundred people who would have wanted to kill us if they found us out, Janelle. You’ll understand this someday.”
Janelle pressed closer to Gary, so close his breath blew against her ear. Could she fight? Deon was shrinking back like a dog with its tail between its legs. Hank was frozen. Even Gary shot her a warning look. Not a good idea, it meant. And he was right. Andrina could summon up a huge wave or two and wash her off this dock, and she wouldn't know how to fight back.
Her father spread his arms before the Tempest High Leader, pleading. “Please, Andrina,” he spoke with a faint tremble in his voice. “Listen to me for once. I know what you're planning to do, and I can promise that Janelle will not have a part in it. Our purpose is not to murder. Deep down, you know this.”
Our purpose is not to murder. Her father sounded so sincere speaking it. Even in her near-panic, Janelle felt a tiny bit of peace inside. If they got away, things could turn out all right after all.
Andrina took a bold step towards him, the grays of her eyes deepening to their more ominous shade. “Do you think the world wouldn’t try to kill us if they discovered our existence before we can take control and protect ourselves, Lucas?" Her father remained silent. "I’ve gone over this so many times with you. What human could ever knowingly love a Tempest? To them, we’re nothing but monsters.” She turned to Gary so fast that he jumped in place. “Your human father abandoned you and your mother when he found out what you were. Thanks to him, she’s a drunk and I had to take you on. Your situation is a mild example, by the way.”
Gary tensed next to her. He squeezed her hand tighter. Hurt reddened his eyes.
His slump. His pain. Being a Tempest was only part of it. He'd kept so much more buried underneath, like the body of an iceberg under the ocean. She couldn’t help but turn to him. "Gary, I never knew--"
She had no chance to finish. The Tempest High Leader gazed past Janelle. “Now, Ivanna.”
A sharp pinprick jabbed into her right arm, piercing and burning.
“What?” She glanced down, wincing in pain.
Ivanna pulled a syringe half-filled with a blue liquid out of her skin. Andrina's speech had been a distraction. She’d injected something into Janelle’s arm.
With a cry, Janelle yanked her arm away. A drug, and some of it was pumping through her veins already. She fell back against the rope fence of the dock, barely catching her balance.
The air around her exploded with noise.
“What did you do?" Gary bolted for Ivanna, fists balled.
Panic filled her father’s voice. “Hank, get her out of here.”
Ivanna was pushing past Gary now, teeth grit. Mr. Deville ran for her, seizing her arms and wrestling for the syringe. The sounds of their scuffle seemed far away, distant, at the end of a long tunnel. A wave of light-headedness swept through Janelle’s body. Her knees wobbled like they wanted to give out. No. She’d fall.
The shot. It was affecting her, already.
Janelle sagged against the railing and looked up at the passing clouds. They looked like giant cotton balls, and if she could just jump up to one, she could float away…Get it together! She looked down at the whitewashed boards of the dock and sank to her knees with a thud. If she didn't fight the drug, Andrina could push her into the ocean.
Feet trampled nearby as Ivanna growled and slapped at the others. Mr. Deville cried out, pulling the syringe out of his arm and dropping it. Gary’s foot came down on it. Shards of glass flew across the wood.
Janelle scooted away from the broken glass, drowsiness creeping under her eyelids.
Mr. Deville slumped onto the fence and listed back too. Andrina grabbed her father’s collar and hoisted him into the air, but Deon appeared in front of her, blocking the view. “Get up, Janelle.” He took her arm. “I’ll drive you out of here.”
She shook her head, wobbling as she stood. Yes. Get out of here. “My dad.” It was all she could manage.
A roar like raging wind and crashing waves sounded through the air. Janelle jumped as Deon whirled around to face Andrina.
Andrina ground her teeth and shoved her father forward. He sailed back, airborne, colliding with Deon. They tumbled back across the planks. The dock trembled as the two of them landed in a heap, moaning in pain.
“Dad!” Janelle stepped away from the railing, the world snapping back into place for a split second. But the wooziness came back full force, and she fell to the side.
A bony hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about you
r father, Janelle.” Andrina’s voice sounded low and menacing in her ear. “He’ll see you shine with the rest of the world. I’ll make sure of it.”
“No,” she cried, lurching forward to break her grip. But her limbs seemed to double in weight. Andrina tightened her grip.
“Janelle,” Mr. Deville said, head rolling back. “Gary…help her.”
Gary. Where was he? She searched the dock, struggling to keep her eyes open. Ivanna held Gary up against the railing.
“He’s in no position to do anything,” Andrina said, facing her dad. She raised her free hand and waved it in a circle.
Another roar filled the air. Boats started to bob up and down like they were trembling with terror. Her father looked up, jaw falling open.
A swirling column of vapor stretched into the sky and for the stretch of dock between them and her father. Sails flapped and flocks of birds exploded off the water as the wind picked up.
Janelle realized what it was: a tornado. She could only sway in place and lean against Andrina for support. The entire world started to seem like some strange dream. Colors and sounds danced around her.
The vortex cut between a pair of boats and carved its way into the dock, blocking Deon and her father from view. White boards crashed into sails and windows with deafening crashes and shatters. Ivanna and Gary stopped struggling and separated, staring up at the swirling cloud of debris. The entire dock trembled underfoot and the water churned below them.
The tornado crossed over the dock and dissipated, raining glass and splintered wood down into the water. A ten-foot-wide hole in the dock now separated Deon and her father from the rest of them. Nearby, Mr. Deville had all but passed out against the railing.
Andrina raised one hand and waved. “Goodbye, Lucas.”
“No!” He stood near the edge of the hole, fingers curled like claws and eyes bulging behind his glasses. “Janelle!”
A dream. That’s all this was. Of course her father wasn’t trapped. He was just yelling at her to wake up. His screams echoed a million miles away as Andrina’s arm curled around her, holding her up.
The Tempest High Leader’s pointed face stared into her own. “Why did you have to give me such a hard time?” she asked. “You’ve made your mother very upset!”
Chapter Thirteen