Tempest (#1 Destroyers Series) (19 page)

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. Then, there’s a screening
process to pick someone with a natural potential like yours.”

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.

So this was what her dad had prepared her for
all her life. To become a hurricane. It was the real reason they'd
moved. Were all her classes for this, too? She’d choked on so many
ugly truths in the past day that she wouldn't be surprised.

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.

Her dad didn't speak any more. He seemed lost
in thought, silently preparing for what was to come. Minutes wore
on as pinks, yellows, and greens rolled by. People walked along the
sidewalks with bags while she was trapped behind glass in this
nightmare. How much longer before they got to the marina? Not long,
she knew. Her palms tingled. Her mouth went dry. Her throat locked
up as a cry tried to escape her, but she held it back, angry at
herself that she was doing what her father said.

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 truth her dad wanted to tell 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
the boats 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 devouring her from the inside,
but could she do anything to slow it down? She felt as if a hole
had opened within, 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 large hole in the
side.

“Who did this?” her uncle said behind her,
unable to hide the nerves in his voice.

Janelle could barely hold in a huge sigh of
relief as she stared at the boat. She nodded to Gary, and he
returned it but said nothing. What had really happened passed
between them in silence. Andrina had ordered someone to do this, so
Janelle couldn’t go out to sea yet.

The green truck cutting them off in traffic
came to mind.

Her relief was short-lived. This meant
Andrina knew where she was headed, and whoever had come out and
done this must still be--

“Hi, Deon.” A high-pitched female voice
floated down from the neighboring sailboat.

Janelle jumped in place and followed the
voice to see a young 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? Every one of
them must be walking around in human form, among normal people who
were unaware that they had killers in their midst. She could never
look at the world the same again.

“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."

Deon clenched his fists, aiming insults at
her. Her father took his shoulder and gave it a desperate squeeze.
Even though he wasn't facing her, she knew what it meant.

Andrina couldn't be far behind. Without a
boat, they couldn't stay here.

Mr. Deville beat her to it. "We need to
leave, Deon."

Her newfound uncle released her, only to take
her 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, and it was certainly better than Operation Reckoning.

A metallic squeal sounded somewhere down the
dock as Ivanna let out a cry. A
whoosh
cut through the air,
getting louder and louder.

Janelle started to freeze before she saw it,
Mr. Deville right with her. Something red and white crashed down
between the dock 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.

Her father appeared at her side, slapping her
on the back and freeing her from the numb shock spreading through
her limbs. “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. Red
fabric pushed against her face, infusing her hair with electricity.
Her hair stood up with static electricity. Behind her, Gary 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, marching towards the other side of the sail.

With a lurch of panic, she realized they were
too late. “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.

A third 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 in contrast 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 hugged herself and 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."

And so said the killer of eight hundred.
Janelle pressed closer to Gary, so close his breath blew against
her ear. She wished she could say something, but the Tempest High
Leader's presence itself seemed to have shut down that part of her.
Could she fight, then? She had back at the school, but it might not
be worth risking here, so close to the ocean. Even Mr. Deville and
Deon weren't making any moves. Andrina could summon up a huge wave
or two and wash her off the 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 promise you 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 could sense a tiny bit of peace inside, telling her that
maybe things could turn out all right after all, somehow. But it
blew away a second later.

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?” 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. His grip grew
tighter on her arm as his shoulders rose.

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.”

Before Janelle could turn, a sharp pinprick
jabbed into her right arm, piercing and burning.

“What?” She glanced down, wincing in
pain.

Andrina's speech had been a distraction to
make her forget that Ivanna was still on the dock with them. The
crazy woman pulled a syringe half-filled with a blue liquid out of
her skin.