 
### TEMPEST

### Book 1 of the Destroyers Series

By

Holly A. Hook

PUBLISHED BY:

Holly A. Hook

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Tempest

Copyright 2014 Holly A. Hook

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc., http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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TEMPEST

* * * * *

### Chapter One

Janelle shuddered. This storm was going to kill her.

Mountains of black clouds lumbered through the sky. The wind screamed and the window trembled. Legions of raindrops battered the glass. It was the only shield between her and death.

Janelle's heart threatened to beat its way out of her throat. She'd sat through a few bad thunderstorms back in Michigan. Once, their old storage shed blew over. Another time, they lost a tree. But this was too much. Florida officially sucked. She'd been here a few days and was already sitting through her first hurricane.

"Dad, get away from the window. I'm begging you. We've got to get out of here. Didn't you hear what the cops were blasting out of that megaphone when they drove through earlier?"

Her father turned. He had his hands behind his back, almost like he wanted to tell her something. He was calm. Relaxed. How many hurricanes had _he_ been through? He'd grown up here in Palm Grove. "Janelle, you're overreacting. Keep your emotions under control."

She turned away and sighed. That's what he always said when she dared show she had feelings. _Don't get mad, Janelle. Don't get frustrated. Keep a level head. Get straight A's all the time._ _Get a job and_ _join every after school club you can_. What was he training her to do—become the President?

It didn't matter now. If that was going to happen, she had to live through today.

The rain got louder, adding to the roar. The roof creaked. Every single bush and tree in their yard bent over as if pointing them back to Michigan. To her best friend, Leslie, who probably thought she'd come to a sunny paradise, gawking at shirtless guys at the beach.

_Snap._ A blur moved across the street. A tree had fallen. Her father stood there, watching.

Janelle dodged behind the couch, closer to the glow of the television. It might protect her a little if the window blew out. "Please. I want to go to the shelter."

Footsteps approached. Eyes shining, her dad spoke in an even voice. "We're completely safe, Janelle. I've been through this before. Just enjoy it. You'd never have this experience back up north. This is nature's most powerful storm."

"How do you know we're safe for sure?"

Behind him, a piece of sheet metal cut through the rain and somersaulted down the street.

He bit his lip and spoke. "I...I just do. There's nothing to worry about."

Something was way, way wrong here. This wasn't like him at all. Her dad was always Mr. Knee Pads, Mr. Bike Helmet and Mr. Burglar Alarm. "Aren't you watching the weather?" She broke away, stepped over a moving box and turned up the TV, fighting down panic. "Look. We're running out of time."

A weatherman pointed to a green and yellow radar mess behind him, rambling on about storm surges and wind speeds. The eye of Hurricane Gary twisted closer to shore, and their new home, Palm Grove, stood right in its path.

"What if this ends up like Hurricane Andrina where like, eight hundred people drowned? We could die if we stay here!"

Her father flinched, breathed out, and looked away. Maybe she was getting through to him after all. But then he picked up the remote off the bookshelf and turned off the TV.

The storm sounded so much worse now without any noise to drown it out.

"Honey, don't let them scare you. They'll only tell you the bad stuff on TV. Hurricanes are actually really cool. They play an important role in—"

"I don't want to hear it." She had to escape. The house felt as safe as a cardboard box. Janelle ran into the kitchen and swept an avalanche of papers off the table in search of the car keys. It wasn't time for a science lesson. She could read up about hurricanes later if she wanted. If she had to drive to the shelter with her learner's permit, so be it. Her dad expected her to do everything herself, anyway. "Where are the keys?"

"I've got them." Her dad fiddled with his shirt sleeve, messing with the button at his wrist. He looked lost.

A car alarm went off somewhere across the street. "Please. Why are you acting so weird?"

Her father's gaze slowly dropped to the floor. He sunk to the couch like an old man, patting the cushion next to him. "O...okay. Come sit down, Janelle."

A loud rap on the door made her jump back against the fridge. "Open up! Police!"

"Thank you!" Janelle ran for the door. Someone with some sanity was going to get them out of here.

She tripped over a box and sent her collection of stuffed sea animals sprawling across the kitchen tile. The sea star she'd had since she was eight. The beanie crab. The killer whale Leslie had won out of the claw machine for her on her sixteenth birthday. The sight of it sent a brief pang through her gut--they might not see any of this again--but she forced her way past with her dad on her heels, yanking open the door.

The storm blasted in, tossing the papers off the table. A man in a dripping yellow rain slicker stood on the porch, bracing himself against the wind and a black police car waited next to her father's truck. It looked like a chariot sent from the heavens.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked her father, eyes dark and narrow. "You're under a mandatory order to evacuate. This could all flood when the surge comes in. We can't come out and help you once it gets too bad. There's a shelter five miles inland at the high school. You need to follow me there."

"I'm in. Thanks," Janelle said.

"We're fine, sir—" her dad started.

"No, we're not."

"Mister," the cop spoke with the voice that could have stopped a rhinoceros in its tracks. "Do you care about your daughter's safety? We're taking her whether or not you want to stay."

Her father withered. Janelle was glad to see it. _This_ was more like her father, who was horrified to get a parking ticket. "All right. Let's go."

The officer waved them out into the curtains of rain. Her father pulled her close and they ran. A gust almost knocked her skinny legs out from under her.

Her dad's truck blinked its headlights as he hit the remote to unlock it. He yanked the door open, staring hard at her through the watery beads on his glasses. "In!"

It was the first thing he'd said today she agreed with. Janelle seized the door and pulled herself into the truck. Dripping, she spat out blond strands of hair.

A blur in the rain, her father struggled against the wind as he made his way to the driver's side door. He climbed in, bringing half a lake with him. The officer climbed into his own vehicle and waited.

"You okay?" Janelle asked. She was so relieved to be going to the shelter that she couldn't feel mad at him anymore.

He wiped off his glasses and started the truck. "Of course. Just got a little wet."

_You could've gotten_ killed, she wanted to say. A piece of debris could have hit them both. A tree could have crushed them.

She didn't want to think about that now.

The police car backed out of the driveway, and he followed. A palm frond flew off a thrashing tree and plastered itself to the windshield. Streetlights blinked out, casting the street in an even more darkness. They'd finally lost power.

Janelle let out a slow breath. "We should've left hours ago."

The police car led the way past a row of houses and the fallen tree. The truck swayed against the wind. A metal piece of _something_ blew across the street ahead. Her father tapped the steering wheel with one hand. He didn't even seem nervous.

Maybe he was just too fatigued from the move to think straight. Yeah, that had to be it.

Janelle swallowed, studying the streams of rain marching across her window and the slogans on plywood-covered windows. _Get lost, Gary. Gary was here. Get out of town, Gary_. She couldn't agree with them more. The rain managed to beat down harder, until Janelle could only make out red and blue lights ahead. Her father braked twice to avoid trash cans in the street. He wasn't going to lecture her about hurricanes now.

"Doing okay?" he asked.

"Now I am."

His gaze flickered down to her bare arm. "You shouldn't have worn a tank top. Here. Cover up your birthmark." He reached over and opened their glove compartment. Her dad was also Mr. First Aid Kit. The plastic box toppled onto Janelle's lap. "Use a bandage. People might think you've got a rotten sense of humor if you don't."

"We're driving in a hurricane, and you're worried about this?" Janelle looked down at her birthmark. The gray spiral had been on her upper arm her whole life like some kind of tattoo. It had to be the weirdest birthmark in the history of the world, but Janelle had gotten used to it. It started conversations. People thought it was cool.

But right now it sent a little shudder over her skin. It looked kind of like the hurricane diagrams she'd seen on TV earlier, and it even had a dark spot in the middle that someone could mistake for an eye. Okay. Maybe her dad had a point. She dug through the kit for a large bandage and slapped it over the spiral.

"The high school should be coming up." Her father turned down a side street. "I'm sure they're still using the same building since I went there."

"Good," she breathed. It was hard to believe she'd be attending her father's old school in days. Why had he even moved here, anyway? His parents had died a long time ago and none of his old friends had talked to him much since he'd moved up to Michigan to marry her mother.

A curtain of rain moved aside. One of the telephone poles ahead leaned towards the street.

A fist of panic squeezed Janelle's insides. The pole looked like it might--

The cruiser passed it safely, but her father hummed and drove closer to the falling pole and wires. He hadn't noticed it.

Janelle grabbed the sides of her seat. "Um..." It was all she could manage.

With a great roar of wind, the pole lurched down, wires whipping overhead like hungry snakes. Her father slammed the brakes, but the truck screeched and went into a skid.

"Dad!" Janelle broke her paralysis and raised her hands as the pole descended. It was all over. Done. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

It never came.

She lowered her hands. "What the--"

The telephone pole had stopped falling right above them and now trembled against a burst of wind...a burst going in the _opposite_ direction as it had before.

"Go!" Janelle slapped the dashboard so hard her palms stung.

With the squealing of tires, the truck lurched forward. Janelle twisted around in time to see the pole fall to the street as if released by a tired giant, dragging its wires with it. Sparks shot up from the ground and died.

"That was way too close." She folded her arms to keep them from shuddering, but it did no good.

Her father turned up the air conditioning and stayed silent. He'd gone somewhere into his own world.

"What's wrong with you, Dad? This isn't making any sense. That telephone pole almost crushed us."

He said nothing to this.

The cruiser led them down a third street, one free of telephone poles. A yellow sign emerged from the rain. _Palm Grove High School._ They'd made it.

* * * * *

An hour passed in the crowded high school hallway and the howling outside got louder. Gusts made the sides of the school whistle and groan. Children started to shift on their blankets while their parents held them close. One little boy asked for some cheese puffs and kicked the blanket when his mother said she'd left them out in the van. Strings of emergency lights ran along the floor, making everything all eerie and shadowy.

And meanwhile, her father sat against some lockers and stared at the wall opposite him. He hadn't said a word since they got here.

Janelle plucked her silver dolphin necklace from under her tank top, rolling it in her fingers as she focused on its tiny smile. It had belonged to her mother before a patch of black ice and a tree had taken her life in a car accident when Janelle was three. She closed her eyes and went back to the last memory she had of her. Janelle held a basket. Her mother led her around the yard, deep brown curls bouncing around her shoulders. The grass was wet, making Janelle's pajamas damp. A bright blue egg appeared next to the trunk of their big oak tree, and Janelle picked it up and put it in her basket, next to the others.

"The storm should be almost over," her father said.

Janelle opened her eyes, jarred out of the memory. She let her necklace drop back to her chest.

"But what's our house going to look like when we get back?" she asked.

"It'll be fine," he said. "Just wait and see."

She couldn't be sure. Water might even be rising around it, like with Hurricane Andrina. The pictures on the news of roofs peeking up from floodwater and bodies under sheets gave her nightmares when she was ten. Her father had yelled at her and told her to leave the room whenever it came on TV. But Andrina had been a Category Five, and this storm was a Two. It wasn't the same, right?

The wind outside stopped as if choked off. The battering rain on the roof ebbed away. Heads perked up. Janelle expected another gust to hit the building, but it never came. The storm couldn't be done already.

Mutters floated up and down the hallway.

"It's over." The kid who'd asked for the cheese puffs stood and peered at the doors.

A sliver of pale sunlight hit the brick wall near a trophy case, only to disappear a second later. Cheese Puff Boy looked and down the hall for his mom, who'd walked past Janelle to the bathroom a minute before.

The weather radio droned away. "Gary has made landfall in the Palm Grove area and has weakened to a Category One storm with estimated winds of up to eighty miles per hour. It is expected to be downgraded to a tropical storm very soon. As of now, it is headed west at ten miles per hour."

The kid didn't notice. He was too hungry, too oblivious. Bunching up his blanket, he started for the door.

"Um..." Janelle leaned after him, but he kept walking. He pushed the door open. He was walking right out into--

"No!" She shot up and bolted for the doors as the kid disappeared through them, out into the deceptive calm. "It's not over. It's the e—"

"Janelle, let me go," her father demanded, standing.

It was too late. She ignored him, ramming into the door as it closed. The door squealed and banged against the wall of the school. Footfalls came behind her. Others were coming, too.

The air outside was damp, still. Thin clouds stretched and floated overhead. Ponds had replaced parking spaces, and leaves stuck to the windshields of every vehicle. Down the street, a power line hung low over the pavement.

"Kid!" she yelled, scanning the lot. Babysitting was _not_ the career choice for her.

The boy tugged on the doors of a van. He stared at her, but didn't move. The clouds continued to roll overhead. The other side of the storm would hit any second. There was no time for diplomacy. She ran through a puddle after him.

"Janelle--" her father started behind her, all no-arguments.

"Come back in. _Now."_ Janelle took the kid's wrist.

"Ow!" The boy thrashed, his voice a genuine scream of pain. He thrashed against her grip as it rang in her ears. "You're hurting my arm! Let go!"

Janelle let go in shock. The boy drew away and ran back towards the door, grasping his wrist. She hadn't even held onto him that hard. It didn't make sense.

"You okay?" she called after him. But he ran faster, pushing past an old man in the doorway and vanishing inside the school. It left a sick feeling inside her.

A lone raindrop hit her on the forehead.

"Let's get back in." Her father took her arm nodded back at the door. It meant _hurry._ Why was he being all worried now? "Be a bit more careful with your strength next time."

"What strength?" Janelle held up her bony arms. Nothing like _that_ had happened before. He had to be joking.

Movement in the middle of the parking lot caught her eye and she stopped.

A vortex of mist and water spun between an SUV and her father's silver truck, shimmering in the pale light and not making a sound.

Janelle leaped back, crashing into her father. A tornado. She'd read that hurricanes could spawn them. But this one was eight feet high and the sky was still a calm gray. It was all so...

Weird.

"By golly. What is that?" An old man appeared at her side and stood with his mouth dropping open.

"Dad?" She glanced at him and back to the silent vortex.

"Janelle, inside. Now." Her father pulled on her shoulder. "I said go!"

But she couldn't move or look away. Her mind raced around, searching for an explanation. The vortex tightened and spun faster, spraying droplets on the surrounding cars like a sprinkler in July. It didn't come any closer. Maybe a water main had blown loose or something. Or the winds had come together just right over a puddle and--

The vortex exploded, sending water to the ground in all directions. Gasps shot up from the crowd. An army of droplets flew right at her, splattering over her and re-soaking her clothes. She blinked them away to look for the cause.

A teenage boy stood right where the vortex had spun a moment before.

She blinked. This guy looked _drowned._ Stringy black hair stuck to the back of his scalp and his purple T-shirt clung to his skin. He wobbled in place like a newborn calf. He raised a dripping arm, reaching for something to hold onto. His palm flopped down on the windshield of a truck, but to no avail. He groaned and tumbled to the pavement with a _thud._

"Oh, my god," a woman cried out from the doorway.

Janelle looked back at the people gathered behind her. Nobody moved. The old man stared with huge eyes while her father swallowed.

"Janelle." Her father spoke slowly now. "Go back in the building."

She couldn't. No one else was rushing to help this kid. Janelle rushed towards the body on the ground. She'd figure out what she'd seen later. They needed to get this kid inside before the other side of the hurricane hit.

"Janelle!" Her father's hand brushed the back of her shirt.

She squatted down in a puddle of water and seized his limp left arm, curling her fingers into his wrist. Her first aid classes spun through her head. A strong, steady pulse beat underneath his skin. This guy was just unconscious. She let out a huge sigh of relief.

"He's alive. Help me get him up." Janelle made to hook her hand under his armpit while the crowd drew close. Her father stood there, deflating like a child caught doing graffiti by his mom.

The drenched guy coughed and his purple sleeve crept up as she helped tug him to his feet. Janelle froze and stared at the arm just inches from her face.

No, it couldn't be. But it was.

The boy had a familiar grayish birthmark on his upper arm. A birthmark in the shape of a spiral. A mark exactly like hers.

### Chapter Two

Janelle hooked her arm under one of Vortex Guy's. Her heart raced. They had to get this kid inside. The other side of the storm could be bearing down already. She could look at his marking after they did that.

"Janelle, let me take—" her father started, moving in. But another man nodded and took Vortex Guy's other arm. Her father sighed and bit his lip. Janelle looked away. She could do this on her own. Wouldn't he want that? He expected her to take care of everything, anyway.

And she wanted a closer look at the spiral he had on his arm.

She and the man dragged him to the door. Water soaked in through Janelle's shoes. Vortex Guy's pant legs dragged through water. It didn't matter. He was already soaked. The rest of the crowd followed her and the man as they pulled the kid through the school doors and back into the dark. Janelle stared at his spiral until the shadow of the school fell over it.

Yes. It matched hers exactly, all the way to the dark spot in the middle.

"Back. Back," her father said, waving the crowd towards the walls. A space opened on the floor and someone laid down a blanket. "Give him some room."

"Over here," Janelle told the guy who had the kid's other arm. "On the blanket."

They set him down. Vortex Guy muttered something and let his head fall to the side. Her father knelt next to him, swallowed, and pulled his sleeve down over his spiral.

Was he trying to hide it from her? Too late. Maybe he'd done it for the same reason he'd told her to hide hers. She expected her father to smile at her and make some joke about the whole thing, but instead, he busied himself straightening out the blanket.

The guy coughed. It sounded wet. Suffocating.

He was dying. Janelle's heart thumped. First aid. He needed first aid. That class she'd taken last summer...drowning...vomiting...choking...she knew what to do for this, somewhere. He was breathing, so no Heimlich maneuver. She gripped him on the shoulder, pulling it off the blanket. "I'll roll him onto his side, so if he coughs up anything—"

"What's wrong with him?" a plump woman cut in. "Where did he come from?"

Her dad lifted a finger to his lips and addressed the thick crowd around him. "Quiet. He'll be fine after he rests a while."

Janelle couldn't stop what came out next. "But he sounds like he nearly drowned!" She twisted around and put her ear close to his mouth, all too aware of how close she was to his face. Warmth blew against her cheek. He was breathing. That meant he still had a pulse, too. She looked back up. "There any doctors here?"

Others echoed her question up and down the hall. A chubby woman made her way through the wall of onlookers. "I'm a nurse. Let me see." She took Janelle's place and took Vortex Guy's pulse. "Strong. Someone call the ambulance, though."

A stiff breeze blew down the hall, ruffling Janelle's hair. The guy opened his eyes, which darted back and forth. It was a look of confusion, of terror. "I...I..." He squeezed them shut, curling into a fetal position.

"What's wrong?" Janelle asked, leaning closer. But the boy put his hand over his eyes, trying to block her out. "How did you get out there?"

"Close the door," a woman called from down the hall. "The storm's coming back."

A squeak followed as someone pulled the double doors shut. Rain beat against the building, but the wind had lost its punch. Janelle couldn't even hear it whistling against the windows anymore. It sounded like just a plain old rainy day outside.

Static cut over the man on the radio. "Gary has now been downgraded to a tropical storm, with maximum wind speeds of seventy miles per hour. It may be downgraded yet again to tropical depression status within a few hours. Now we are beginning to receive damage reports..."

Vortex Guy winced. "Turn...that off. Please."

At least he was talking now. Janelle turned the radio off as she leaned in for another glimpse of the gray spiral. But her father's shoes appeared next to her, like a silent warning against looking again. If she tried to flip his sleeve back up, he'd stop her. She could practically feel his stare on her back. What was his _problem?_

Janelle turned away from him. A salty aroma hit her nostrils, sending a strange tingle through her body. Had this guy just crawled out of the ocean or something? But that didn't make sense since it was miles away.

"What were you doing out there?" Janelle asked, but still he didn't open his eyes. His head fell to the side, revealing a cute mole on the side of his nose.

"Leave him alone, Janelle." Her father took her arm, making her stand. He took her place at his side. He lowered his voice as he spoke to Vortex Guy. "Rest a while. You'll feel better soon."

"Dad, what's going on?"

"Nothing, Janelle. He must have had a hard time walking through the storm."

She couldn't shake the feeling that this was _not_ nothing. Or that her father didn't know about it. Janelle's skin tingled under the bandage that hid her own mark. She wanted to peel it off and ask her father why the heck she and this guy had the same thing, but people stood on every side. Now wasn't the time to do it.

Sirens approached and cut off. A moment later, the ambulance backed towards the double doors, lights flashing. Someone had dialed 911. The crowd pressed themselves to the walls as the paramedics wheeled in the stretcher to take away Vortex Guy and whatever connection he might have to her.

* * * * *

Janelle rolled down the truck window, gaping at the damage as the muggy air crept over her face. Fallen trees. Branches everywhere. Roofs with shingles peeled away, and a street that was taped off with a power line hanging low over it. Her stomach rolled. This was so much different than seeing it on TV. On television, at least, there was some distance that made it unreal somehow. Now that protective wall had come down.

"This is awful," she said. "How can people live with this?"

"It doesn't happen every year, Janelle," her father said. "Or even every ten years. It'll all get fixed. It always does."

A branch had shattered the windshield of a car—a shiny red convertible's, of course—and a tree had caved in the roof of a pink house. The truck crunched small branches and shingles under its tires as her father drove them past, silent. He cleared his throat like he was going to say something, then went silent again.

"I hope nobody died," Janelle said.

"I hope so, too." Her father looked away, lost. He sure didn't think hurricanes were cool now.

At least, she hoped he didn't.

"We'll get home in just a few minutes." Her father tapped the steering wheel in some kind of rhythm, daring only quick glances at the houses around them.

Now was the time to ask him about Vortex Guy. Nobody else was around.

"What do you think was wrong with that kid?" Janelle asked. "He had a birthmark like mine. Didn't you see it?"

Her father stared hard at a house with sheet metal wrapped around one of its corners. "He had a birthmark, too? That's odd."

"But you saw it, Dad. You even pulled his sleeve down over it. Come on. I know there was a lot going on today, but you can't deny that one."

He coughed. "Maybe you were just seeing things."

"I doubt it. And didn't you see how one second there was this tornado thing in the parking lot, and the next, he was there?" Her head started to pound with the stress of the whole day.

"It could have been a tornado, after all. Hurricanes _do_ spawn them."

"Not eight foot tall ones made out of water." He was totally dodging the question.

They made another turn, and a bent sign labeled _Missoula Street_ stuck out of a fallen branch as if greeting them. Janelle's stomach lurched and she forgot about Vortex Guy. This was their street—and it didn't look any better than the others they'd passed so far. Fallen trees grabbed for the road with leafy fingers and the pieces of an orange gas station sign had wedged up against a car. People stood in tight groups and surveyed the damage. A pair of women hugged and comforted each other in front of a house with half its roof missing. The sobs from one floated over the sound of the truck's motor as they passed.

Janelle twisted her hair around her fingers and swallowed a bad taste in her mouth. Their house was next, and there was nothing she could say to delay the inevitable. "Dad, I can't look at this anymore."

His lips twitched, but he said nothing as they rolled the rest of the way down the street. At last, just as the tension had built up to the point where she couldn't hold back her nerves anymore, he spoke. "Well, would you look at that," her dad said, pulling into their driveway. "We came out pretty good in all of this."

His voice gave her the strength to look. Words escaped her. "What?"

Their house waited in front of her. Undamaged.

None of the front windows were broken, even though her dad hadn't boarded them up or put tape over them. Not a single tree had fallen in their yard. No branches littered their lawn, and all of their shingles had stayed put. It was as if someone had lowered a giant box over it while the storm raged overhead.

Janelle looked up and down the street as he pulled into their driveway and stopped. They were the _only_ house without any damage.

"Dad, I need to lie down." A whole mountain of weird weighed down on her, crushing down on her harder by the minute. Nothing about today added up. "My head feels like it's ready to explode."

"You'd better," her father said. He sounded relieved. "I'll go see if I can help anybody. Keep the door locked."

"Sure thing." She'd think about all of this later. Janelle knew she should probably go with her father and see who needed help, but her headache was going into Migraine Land. It was lie down, or start throwing up in about an hour.

The house was still dark. Janelle went right to her bed, changed into her pajamas, and flopped down. The headache dulled.

Was her father relieved that their house was okay, or was he relieved that she had stopped asking him questions?

After an hour in a haze, Janelle drifted off to a swirling maelstrom of darkness, chaos, and pain.

* * * * *

Her phone rang.

Janelle sat up in bed and tossed her sheets to her side. The first thing she noticed was that her headache was gone. The second thing she realized was that her phone was glowing in the dark. She snapped it up and raised it to her ear. "Hello?"

"So, you survived? You're okay? I've been worrying since you told me your dad was moving you in yesterday."

"Uh?" Janelle blinked a few times and recognized the voice. "Oh, hi Leslie." She yawned. "Sorry. Just woke up." Should she tell her friend about her father's weirdness and the water vortex? The whole day crashed back down on her. She'd always been able to trust Leslie with anything.

"I was so worried about you. I miss you already. So, tell me all about Florida."

Janelle swallowed.

"Any cute guys?" Leslie never waited to ask about that.

"Well..." Vortex Guy hadn't been bad looking. "I guess, yeah. Leslie, you're going to think I'm crazy for telling you this."

"Try me."

Janelle did, leaving nothing out.

"He had a mark like yours? But I thought your spiral was one of a kind," Leslie said. "You should go visit that guy if you can find out what hospital he's in. Make sure he's okay. It might help you figure out why he was out in the storm, at least. Just be careful, though."

"Careful?"

"Well, what are the chances of him randomly having that mark on his arm just like yours? Maybe he's your distant relative or something, and that gray spiral is some kind of genetic thing. Palm Grove _is_ the area your dad's originally from. So until you know, don't go asking him for dates or anything."

She hadn't thought of that. "You can find explanations for everything, Leslie." Well, for the marking, at least. Maybe Vortex Guy _was_ related to her. A big part of her hoped not, though. Yuck. She'd just been thinking how good he looked a minute ago. Why did Leslie have to bring that up _now?_ "My dad doesn't have any family except some brother he hasn't heard from in fourteen years. You know--that makes me feel better. Thanks. And that's a great idea. Going to the hospital, I mean."

"Guilt trip your dad into taking you. After the day he put you through, he won't be able to say no."

"I'm not sure if he'll say yes." Maybe it was worth a shot.

Thirty minutes later, Janelle managed to get off the phone with Leslie. She found her dad sitting on the couch and staring down into a glass of cranberry juice. A pair of emergency candles burned on either side of the table and cast a flicker on the walls.

He glanced up at her and swallowed, shadows dancing across his face. "I'm sorry about scaring you earlier. I don't know what I was thinking, staying here and all. I forgot that you'd never been through this kind of thing."

Maybe Leslie was onto something. "Apology accepted. Where's the nearest hospital?"

Her father's eyebrows lifted. "You want to see that boy."

Heat crept up her cheeks. Good thing for the power outage. "I just want to see if he's all right." _And if our birthmarks are somehow connected_ , she thought. "I helped drag him out of the storm."

Her father put his chin in his hand and studied the floor. "He was looking better before the ambulance even came to get him. I'm sure he needs his rest, so it might not be a good idea."

"Come on, Dad. I don't know anyone here. If he goes to my school, it would be a good way to start making new friends. It won't be easy starting in a new place without some connections."

He sighed, deep in thought. "Okay," he said at last. "He's probably at Laverne Medical Center. That's ten miles north of here. I'll take you there tomorrow. It'll be good for you to meet others, and it'll give you a chance to see the area."

Yes! She'd have to call Leslie tomorrow and tell her the guilt trip idea was a hit. "Um...how are we going to find his room? Hospitals are huge. We can't just go around peeking in everyone's rooms for him."

"Oh, I'll find a way." Smiling, he pointed down the hall. "Why don't you go get some unpacking done if you're feeling better? It'll make less to do tomorrow."

Flashlight in tow, she unpacked her large collection of books and did battle with the wires of her computer, glad for the mindless work that took away the day behind her. Her pictures came out of another box: one of her and her father working at a soup kitchen last winter, another of her and Leslie at the amusement park. The one of her mother came out last. The curly-haired woman smiled at her from in front of Lake Huron, holding up a huge fish. It was one of the only pictures of her they owned. That one always went on her night table, next to her clock.

The bandage started to itch again as she went through a box of yearbooks. She'd forgotten about it until now. Wincing, Janelle peeled it off to reveal her own gray spiral. The gray swirls she had grown used to her entire life seemed alien now, sinister in the dim light. Janelle had a sudden urge to ask her father for a cover-up tattoo, and she wasn't sure why.

* * * * *

The cool shade of a palm tree washed over Janelle as her father parked beside it. Laverne Medical Center towered overhead with its seven floors. Janelle's palms tingled with nerves. Maybe Vortex Guy would have some earth-shattering revelation about their birthmarks, if he was even here. With her luck, he'd been checked out and released to his parents already. Or maybe Leslie was right and the gray spiral was a rare gene floating around the Palm Grove area after all. That didn't explain anything else about yesterday, though.

Janelle kept her mouth shut as they climbed out of the truck. If she brought it up to her dad, he'd find an excuse to drive them both back home.

"I'll go up and ask around for him. You wait here," her father said once they'd entered the main lobby.

"Why?" she asked. "I'm not a baby. I can do it myself."

"Just sit tight," he said, turning away and heading for the elevator. "Don't wander off. Stay here where the security guys can see you."

Janelle sighed and paced around the lobby. Why, all of a sudden, did her father think she couldn't do anything on her own? He'd totally changed since the move.

She plopped down in a chair, watching the same news stories on TV loop over and over: the crappy economy, another food recall, a big controversy over the comment of a talk show host, a celebrity in the hospital for a toe infection. Of course, Hurricane Gary made one of the slots, with two deaths already reported from the storm surge south of Palm Grove. Another meteorologist pointed out a new storm forming in the Atlantic, Tropical Storm Heather, but Janelle sagged with relief when he said it was supposed to weaken and die without coming near land. The weatherman moved on to talk about a long drought in the Northeast when someone tapped on Janelle's shoulder.

"You ready?"

Janelle whirled around to face her dad. Wow, he'd taken forever. "So is—"

"He's on the third floor. I went up to let him know you're coming. I'm guessing they've done some tests on him, but he seems to be okay." He stared up at the drought story as he dug into his pocket. "Why don't you get him something out of that gift shop over there? Here's ten."

"Thanks." Janelle strode into the gift shop and agonized over her choices for several minutes. This was going to be her first impression, and if it did turn out this guy wasn't related to her, she didn't want to screw it up. But why did everything have to be pink? _She_ didn't even like the color, and she had a feeling that Vortex Guy wouldn't, either. She decided on a teddy bear in a blue _Get Well Soon_ T-shirt.

"I hope he doesn't think this is too girly." Janelle pushed open the glass door and left the gift shop, hurrying out into the hallway. "Let's—"

A squeal rang out next to her, turning the heads of two passing women in scrubs. A janitor stopped to gawk, letting his trash can roll into the wall with a bang.

Janelle turned to see what the sound was. She still had door handle, and the entire door hung from its top hinge. It was as if the Hulk or something had pulled it right off. She stood, stunned, unable to come up with an explanation. She couldn't have done this. There was no way. "Uh...what?"

"Oh, my." The old woman from the gift shop counter darted out to look at the damage, then Janelle. "You're not hurt, are you?" She took the door by the rim and pushed it back against the wall while Janelle watched, stunned. The woman's arms quivered with the effort. "The maintenance guys just put this in last week. I'll have to call them back down and give them an earful. Ted, can you call them down?"

The janitor closed his mouth and reached for his phone.

Janelle backed away and left the woman to pull the door to the side. "I am _so_ sorry." What else was she supposed to say?

The woman stared at her and shook her head. "It's not your fault. It couldn't possibly have been."

Her father's hand came down on her shoulder, squeezing with urgency. "Let's go. You need to be a bit more careful, honey."

She couldn't tell if he was joking or serious, so she kept her mouth shut as they boarded the elevator and squeezed in next to a lunch cart. A mechanical failure. She'd just pulled on the door at the wrong time. That was it.

They came to a small visitor's lounge a minute later.

"Go on." Her dad pointed to the corner ahead. "Second to last room on the right. He didn't have any other visitors, so we should be fine."

Finally. He trusted her to do something. Janelle sucked in a breath and started down the hall. She weaved past the beeping nurses' station and dodged past carts, to where the door to the second-to-last room stood wide open. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. Janelle swallowed and squeezed the teddy bear tighter. Great. She was going to look nervous and stutter all her words.

Nobody took up the first bed, but the second one had the curtain drawn. That had to be it. She stepped into the room. But then a woman spoke from behind the curtain, stopping Janelle in her tracks.

"...disappointed in that, to say the least. You've completely wasted your full potential. You were doing great there for a few days, and it looked like we'd have something to celebrate, but no. When the big moment came, you just wimped out like so many of the others and—"

"I did it. Why can't you be happy with that?" Vortex Guy's voice rose above hers. "I want to forget about it. Can I go back and live with my mom now?"

"Your mother can't take you. You know that."

"How do I know she didn't stop drinking? All I have is your word." Vortex Guy spoke like he wanted this woman to leave, and now.

Janelle took a couple of steps back and bumped into the empty bed, hoping they couldn't hear her. Maybe she should leave. But no. She needed those answers. This was her only shot.

"You're under my roof until you turn eighteen," the woman added. "I'll pick you up sometime tomorrow. You're only here because we have a secret to keep. I'm sure the doctors want to run tests to rule out everything under the sun and make their money. They must think I'm loaded." A bony hand throttled the curtain from behind.

"Uh...you _are_ loaded."

The woman's voice went from annoyed to something far scarier, something that almost sounded like a growl. "Don't talk back to me. Ever." The hand tugged the curtain all the way back.

Janelle's stomach lurched, but she had no time to move.

A short-haired blonde woman in a gray business suit stormed away from the second bed and stopped inches away as if she'd hit a brick wall. Her gaze bore into Janelle. She had eyes the color of an approaching thunderstorm, gray and dark blue at the same time. "Who are you?"

The growl was gone, but the question felt like it was poking right into her, down to her core. Janelle suppressed the urge to run out of the room and back down the hall to her dad. She held up the bear and focused on keeping her voice level. "I'm here to visit him. I...I helped pull him out of the storm yesterday. I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

The woman stared harder at her. Janelle took a step back, cursing herself for looking weak. But then the woman smiled as if she'd just found a winning lotto ticket lying on the ground. "Oh, I see. Feel free to take your time, sweetie. Really. It's no problem." She hurried to the door, pulling a cell phone from her pocket and clicking her high heels on the linoleum.

Janelle turned to watch her go. What had _that_ mood swing been about? Maybe this woman was bipolar or something.

Now wasn't the time to dwell on it. She took a deep breath and crossed the threshold to the other side of the room.

Vortex Guy sat up in bed, stabbing at a steaming tray of hospital food with a plastic fork. Locks of black hair hung in his tanned face which must have spent a lot of time in the sun. He seemed like the kind of guy that would either join a garage band or hit the waves with a surfboard, definitely not the class jacket wearing type her dad approved of. No wonder he hadn't been crazy about bringing her here.

And he _was_ pretty cute, now that he wasn't soggy and unconscious.

He didn't look up at her as she approached. Heat rose inside of her, but she pressed on.

"Uh...hi." Janelle crept over and set the bear down on his bedside table, wedging it between the phone and the lamp. "I'm the one who found you in the parking lot yesterday, but I'm not sure if you remember me. My dad's Lucas Duvall. He visited before I did."

He took a bite of his food and winced, like it was covered in mold or something. "Lucas? Yeah, he came up a few minutes before my guardian did." Venom filled his voice at the word _guardian._ But then his voice softened. "Sorry. I'm not mad at you. You must be Janelle." He stopped impaling the carrots and brushed the hair from his face. He had a deep pair of hazel eyes that made her feel funny, in a way that had nothing to do with the events of the past two days.

Janelle sat and sank back into the cushion of the seat, face burning. Why did she have to blush _now?_ This was uncomfortable enough.

Vortex Guy pushed his food away. She didn't blame him, because it didn't look that good. "Just moved here?" he asked.

Janelle's shoulders sagged. The words came easier now that he was asking the questions. Maybe this wouldn't be a disaster after all. "Yeah. My dad must've told you. I guess he thought I wasn't mature enough to tell you that myself."

A pause as Vortex Guy stared down at his hands. "So you live in Palm Grove?" He smiled, but she couldn't miss the strain in it.

"Yes." She had to get to the point before anyone else came back, like that scary bipolar woman. So she nodded and asked, "What's your name, anyway?"

He grimaced as if the carrots hadn't agreed with him. "You'll laugh and make fun of me like the whole hospital has this morning. I really don't need any more of that."

"Unless it's Ebenezer or something, I won't." Even then, she wouldn't.

He looked down at the sheets again and muttered something.

"What did you say?" She leaned closer. "I didn't hear you."

He stared at her, suddenly intense. "Gary. My name's Gary. Go ahead."

Gary. Okay. It was another creepy thing she could add to the list of creepy things that had happened since moving here. A shudder swept through her. "That's not a bad name. And it's common, too, so that's probably why they picked it for that storm." The knot in her stomach loosened as she listened to her own words. "I went to middle school with a kid named Curtis. And when Hurricane Curtis happened, everybody picked on him for a week."

Gary gave a weak smile. "Thanks. Actually my full name's Gareth, but nobody calls me that. I'm glad, too. Sounds like a soap opera name."

Janelle listened to a squeaky cart rolling past in the hall. She picked at a sliver on the armrest. Now came the hard part. "When I was pulling you up off the ground yesterday, I saw something on your arm. A mark." Janelle leaned forward as Gary's eyes widened. "Like this." She stood and rolled up her left sleeve, feeling oddly exposed.

"Oh." He glanced down again. "I guess that's weird."

_That's it? Oh?_ Janelle sat, letting out a breath. "Isn't it weird that two people have the exact same one and in the exact same place? I grew up thinking this was a fluke, but I don't think so now. I bet you know something more about it. Is it a family trait or something? A gene?"

"No. We definitely don't look related."

"Then what do you think it is?" She let her sleeve fall back down, glad for its cover.

Gary's mouth twitched.

_Spit it out,_ she thought, heart pounding. _Come on._

Instead, he pulled the blankets over himself. "I'm feeling really whipped right now. I haven't fully got my energy back and I've got to snooze again. Thanks for the bear." He settled down with a rustling sound and went silent.

Janelle's hopes hit the ground with a sickening _thud._

"Gary?"

He didn't answer.

"Gary! Come on! You know something."

Still nothing.

She reached out and shook him on the arm. His whole body swayed on the bed, but he refused to say a word. Janelle stood next to him and waited, holding her breath as she watched the second hand on the clock tick on the wall. Gary kept breathing heavily, pretending he was asleep.

He wasn't. Just like her dad, he was dodging her questions.

She had come all this way for nothing. Whatever window had opened between them had slammed shut, thanks to this mark on her arm.

Stomach heavy, she rose and skulked out of the room. The sound of ringing phones and beeping equipment faded behind her as she walked into the visitor's lounge, dragging her feet.

"Anything exciting happen?" Her father tossed a science magazine back to the table. It landed facedown next to a kids' puzzle.

"No. He didn't talk long." Janelle raised her chin. There was no use in letting him see her disappointment. It would only earn her a lecture on letting her emotions get out of control again. But maybe, she could think about this for a bit, and go back and force some answers out of Gary a bit later. "Can I go say goodbye to him in a little bit?"

But her father wasn't listening. His gaze floated out to the hallway and he blanched. The light in his eyes vanished as if the sun itself had hidden behind a cloud.

Janelle looked to where he was. The tall blonde woman stood at the corner, talking to a young man in sunglasses who breathed heavily as if he'd just run up all seven flights of the hospital's stairs. She tugged on the guy's sleeve, pointing towards Gary's room. The two of them ran down the hallway Janelle had vacated a minute before. If she didn't know better, it looked like they were rushing to intercept someone.

Her father stood and took her arm, leaving no space for arguments. "Come on, Janelle. We're leaving. _Now."_

### Chapter Three

Her father drove them home way over the speed limit. He even mashed the accelerator through a yellow light, going under right when it turned red.

"Dad, what's the rush?" she asked. Did that woman in the gray suit have something to do with it? She couldn't imagine why. "You're always the one who drives in the slow lane."

"I know I am. But something isn't agreeing with me," he said.

"Then why didn't you go at the hospital?" Janelle had the sinking feeling he was lying. He'd blown past two McDonalds where he could have stopped.

"I don't want to be tied up in a public restroom all day. I'd rather get home."

When they got home, he made a beeline for the bathroom, closed the door, and stayed there for a while. Janelle worked on some unpacking now that their power had come back on. After a little while, her father made his way to his study and closed the door behind him.

That was something he almost _never_ did. He always left his door open.

Something was going on here.

Something big, and it had to do with her.

Janelle had to find out what.

Her father's voice floated through the wall, then quieted. He was talking on the phone. Eavesdropping was bad, but she didn't have a lot of choices left. If her mark did mean something, it was wrong of her dad to keep it from her. She'd always been responsible. Always gotten good grades and stayed out of trouble, like he insisted. Always took his suggestions to join Key Club and the chess club and every other club that made her brain want to explode.

She deserved the truth, whatever it was.

Janelle crept out into the hallway and up to the study door. It was way thinner than the wall. She pressed her ear to it, taking in her father's low voice.

"I...I can't do it. I was going to tell her, but then she got so upset. I think it's better that she doesn't know ahead of time. I remember what it did to me, so I'm going to have to rely on you, Deon." A pause. "We have to hurry. I had...a sighting. I saw _her_ today." Another pause. "The tenth? That's the closest? What about her school? We're looking at up to a two-week absence here. All right, if that really is the best you can do. I think it will be good for us to get away."

So her father _had_ left because of that business woman. Maybe she was an old enemy of his. But what was this thing that she wasn't supposed to know about?

Janelle readjusted her position, but a floorboard creaked.

Her father lowered his voice down to a dim mumble. She grit her teeth in frustration. "Crap," she muttered, pushing her ear against the smooth wood of the door.

Nothing. What was he doing in there—whispering? Trying to do sign language over the phone? Or maybe he'd just plain hung up so she couldn't hear his top secret conversation.

Janelle stalked back to her room and shut the door. Maybe she could see if anyone else had noticed people materializing out of eight-foot-high tornadoes in storms.

She typed _hurricane_ in the search engine and clicked on the first article that came up. _Hurricane Andrina strikes Texas coast, hundreds feared dead in massive storm surge_. A huge picture of the Category 5 monster filled the top half of the screen, and Janelle found herself digging her toes into the carpet. Something about the dark, pitiless eye sent a chill down her spine. She wondered if her father would burst into the room and tell her not to look at that, like he had with the news six years ago.

Janelle skimmed the long article. Andrina had spawned sixty-eight tornadoes, but no people had come out of them. That didn't help any. Next. _Hurricane Kevin ravages Florida Panhandle just 2 months after Curtis._ No reports of people materializing out of nowhere. Another. _Evacuations under way as Joey bears down on SC coast_. Still no help.

Several news stories later, she sighed and typed _people appearing in hurricanes_. Zip. She reworded the search at least a dozen more times. Nada. Three hours later, she rubbed her burning eyes, turned the computer off, and went to bed.

* * * * *

"I've got great news and not-so-great news. Have a seat."

Janelle stopped in the kitchen doorway the next morning and stared hard at her father as he wiped off his glasses. She raised her eyelids, heart pounding. This might have to do with his secret phone conversation from last night. Maybe the planets had aligned and he was going to tell her something. After all her tossing and turning last night, she needed it.

"Good news first." She pulled up a squeaky chair and poured herself some Magic Crunch, heart pounding with excitement and nerves at the same time. What was the bad news? Whatever he didn't want to tell her about?

"I was talking on the phone last night with an old buddy of mine." Her father stabbed his cereal with his spoon. "And I've booked us a trip to the Bahamas. We're leaving on September tenth and we'll be gone for two weeks. I know that's right after school starts, but I'm sure you won't have any trouble catching up on your work ahead of time." He wiped his glasses with more fervor. "I figured we could take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to enjoy a real vacation."

She stared hard at him. Bahamas? Them? "That's...that's awesome! Can we invite Leslie? She'd love that."

"We can't this time, Janelle. Maybe next time. We did just move, after all. And it'll be too hard for her to get down here during school."

Janelle kept a straight face, hiding her disappointment. "I've got school, too."

"I'll talk to your teachers, honey. We'll get your work out of the way ahead of time." He plucked a shiny brochure from under a pile of papers. "We'll be at this hotel. Nice restaurant, swimming pools. See for yourself."

Janelle took the brochure and rubbed her fingers across the smooth paper. She had to make sure it was real. She paged through it, barely reading any of the text and gawking at the photos. Palm trees. Bright blue lagoons. Perfect beaches. This might not be so bad, even if she had to go with her dad. Was this his apology? Maybe. She couldn't wait to tell Leslie about this. "Tell me. What are we doing there?"

"The highlight of the trip will be some scuba diving lessons. I know you'll love checking out the wildlife."

Janelle took a bite of her cereal, letting the marshmallows dissolve on her tongue. She had to be dreaming. "This is going to be so cool. So what's the bad news?" Was he about to tell her whatever he hadn't wanted to tell her? She gripped the table in anticipation. There had to be something else.

Her father raised a spoon at her. "You're going to have a lot of work to catch up on for school when we get back."

* * * * *

Her father went across the street later that morning to help the neighbor guy cut up the tree in his yard, leaving Janelle alone in the house. She called Leslie and told her about the vacation, and of course, Leslie burned with jealousy. But after she hung up, she couldn't shake a deep, tense feeling in her gut.

Things still weren't adding up. If this was just a normal vacation, why had her father sounded so tense and sad on the phone last night? He knew she loved dolphins and coral reefs and all that. Why had he talked like this would be something to dread?

Janelle poured herself some orange juice and watched as the old neighbor man and her father climbed into his car and took off, probably to the hardware store.

Her father had left her alone. With his truck. And the keys sat on the table.

Gary might still be at the hospital.

Janelle poured the orange juice down the sink, grabbed the keys, and went for the door. This was her last chance. She had to hurry and do this before her dad got back. If she didn't get back in time, her dad would yell at her for driving alone with her learner's permit.

But she couldn't go the next two weeks not knowing what awful thing could happen in the Bahamas. Gary might know about it. He _had_ to.

Janelle locked up the house, started the truck, and made the ten minute drive to the hospital. She didn't even care that it was the first time she'd driven alone. Way scarier stuff pressed on her mind.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered, pulling into the visitor's lot. She scanned the area. The business woman in gray was nowhere to be seen. Good. If her father didn't want to face her, then she didn't, either. She'd have to be careful.

There.

Someone sat in a wheelchair near the Discharge Pickup doors. Purple shirt. Black hair with long, messy bangs.

Gary. He was out of the hospital. She'd made it just in time.

Janelle jumped down from the truck and ran for him. She scanned the lot one more time for that woman. All clear. She weaved around a couple of nurses standing on the sidewalk and made it to him. Gary looked up, eyes wide. "Janelle?"

She had to cut right to it. "You can't pretend to fall asleep on me now. There's a lot of questions I want answers to. Sorry," she said, putting her hands on her hips. It was best to hurry. "I want to know what these birthmarks are and why you appeared out of nowhere right in front of me. My dad seems to know, but he's not telling me anything. So it's up to you. I need the truth, because things are getting weird."

Gary rose until he was level with her. His hazel eyes were wide with an apology. "I didn't mean to be such a jerk yesterday. It's just that when you showed me your mark, I knew I had to get you out of there before my guardian came back. Do you know who she is? Well, never mind. Of course you wouldn't if you don't even know what you are."

"What do you mean?" Janelle took a step back. "What I am?"

"So your dad's keeping it a secret from you," Gary said. "That's why he told me not to say much before I saw you. Well, maybe you're lucky you don't know. But you'll find out."

"And I want _you_ to tell me."

Gary drew in a breath. "No, you don't. You'd better go. I think my guardian's looking for you. She and her assistant came back into my room right after you left yesterday."

A chill swept over her. "She _is?"_

"And you don't want to end up in her program like I did. Maybe I'm your bait. Maybe that's why she's made me sit out here for the past two hours. Get out of here!"

Gary shoved her back. She staggered on the pavement, grabbing the railing.

"Gary!" She couldn't keep the hurt from rising up. "What is your problem?"

But he didn't have time to answer.

The double doors burst open with enough force to make them slam against the wall of the hospital.

And standing there was Gary's guardian, staring right at her and grinning like a hungry shark.

"Well, well, well," she said. "I see this little plan of mine worked out well after all."

### Chapter Four

A breeze whistled through the air as Gary's guardian smiled wider and clapped her hands together. Her suit flapped against her, but she didn't seem to notice. "Janelle," she spoke with relish. "I know that's who you are. I've been waiting for you for _years_. I thought I'd lost you yesterday. You've got no idea how happy this makes me."

"You know my name?" She let go of the rail. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, you don't know? How typical." The woman twisted her features into a look of mock concern. "And your time has almost come. I can tell everything you want to know, Janelle. I know you have lots of questions. It'll be my pleasure to answer them for you. A girl your age should definitely know the truth by now."

"Run," Gary said. He looked very small next to this woman. "Get out of here! Don't listen to her."

The woman waited. She was dangling bait right in front of her, waiting for Janelle to take it. Another gust of wind whistled through the air, trying to push her closer.

"She's evil. Just go!" Pure panic had taken over Gary.

Something about his voice made her move. She ran back for the truck.

"Janelle! Are you really going to go back to not knowing anything?" The woman's high heels clicked against the concrete behind her.

Yes, she was. Something was very, very wrong here.

The wind picked up more, but Janelle climbed into the truck, locked the door, and started it up. She hated to leave Gary, but she had no choice. "Oh, god."

Gary's guardian hadn't been joking. She sauntered right at the truck, patience lost. Her voice deepened into a growl that rolled right over her. "Get out. Now. That's an order."

Janelle pulled out of the space. The woman ran closer, feet away. Wind screamed over the truck. Who was she to tell her what to do? Janelle gunned it and made for the roundabout, but the woman in gray jumped right in front of her. Janelle slammed the brakes.

"I mean it, Janelle!"

Her lips moved, and her voice turned into a roar that whipped over the truck with the wind. Was that _seriously_ her voice?

Gary appeared, grabbed his guardian's arm, and pulled her out of the way. The road was clear.

Janelle took the chance and gunned it onto the street, tires squealing. She dared one look back, to see Gary and his guardian struggling against each other in the parking lot, while the scary woman's assistant ran over to break it up.

* * * * *

Janelle had no way of contacting Gary now.

None.

And even if she did, it was far too dangerous to try. What would have happened if that woman had kidnapped her or something? It would have killed her father, and maybe worse. The only good thing that had happened in the past few days was that she'd gotten the truck home before her father came back to find out. He'd complained about the gas looking a little low afterwards, but chalked it up to the Marathon he'd filled up at.

Still, Janelle felt awful about stealing his truck like that. It made her sick every time she thought about it. Maybe she deserved what she'd gotten.

And now she had school to worry about, too.

Students brushed past Janelle as she sat in Accelerated Geography on the first day of school, and she paid attention to every bare arm she came across. She hadn't seen Gary here, and no one else with a gray spiral on their arm. About eight million students were wearing tank tops today, and the most interesting thing she'd seen had been a snake tattoo.

The bell rang through the halls, and a chubby, balding man strode into the class. He cleared his throat to silence the chatter as he wrote his name on the board: Mr. Hank Deville. "So...how was your summer?"

A sea of groans rose up. Not that Janelle could blame them. She felt like groaning herself, but held back.

"My house flooded and we're still mucking it out," the girl next to her said.

A guy with dreadlocks waved his hands in the air. "My new car's got a huge crack across the windshield now."

Mr. Deville bowed his head until the class quieted. "Sorry to hear about all this. Hopefully your school year will go a lot smoother than the last week. Now I'm going to—you there in the front?"

Janelle had stuck her hand in the air without even thinking about it. Her cheeks heated as twenty-eight other sets of eyes landed on her. It was bad enough being the new person in class.

At last, a question popped out of her lips. "Yeah. I moved to Florida right when the hurricane was happening, and I was wondering if they can skip over some houses the way tornadoes do. Because my house didn't take any damage at all while everyone else on my street did. Since you teach Geography, I was thinking you might know." Desperation had wormed its way under her skin in the past few days. She was willing to seek answers from anyone at this point.

Mr. Deville's gaze stayed on Janelle for several seconds before he answered. "Hurricanes usually do their damage over a wide area, unlike a tornado, so it's more evened out. So I find that a little unusual. What's your name?"

"Janelle."

"Welcome to Florida. Now, if we'll—"

A girl in the back spoke. "Why do they give hurricanes names?"

Mr. Deville straightened up, showing no signs of impatience. "Well, around sixty years ago, the World Weather Assembly decided they needed a better way to keep track of storms. So they invented a list of names that changes every single year." He eyed the entire class. "Any one of you could end up sharing your name with one sometime in your lives. And did you know that they originally wanted to use only women's names on hurricanes?" He smiled at the girl who had asked. "The plan fell through when one of the Assembly members threw a fit over it and demanded that both men and women's names be used."

Janelle liked Mr. Deville--he seemed like one of those nice, laid-back types--but he hadn't told her anything she hadn't read online twelve thousand times. If she didn't get any new info by the end of the week, she'd have to give up on this search and wait for the Bahamas trip, provided she'd even find anything out there. That, and pray that scary woman didn't come back.

She hoped for a break and some time to think in Chemistry, but unfortunately the teacher, Mrs. Vanderson, cracked out an experiment ten minutes into class. She pulled a large plastic jug filled with water from the storage closet.

"Now, I'm going to give you a small assignment to start off your year," she said with a heavy twang. "We'll do a simple experiment so you can practice the steps and methods you'll be using for the real stuff. I went down to the beach this morning and collected some ocean water. And what you're going to do is turn salt water into fresh water. Each table has a bowl and a plastic cup, along with a roll of plastic wrap."

Janelle wasn't sure if she'd even be able to concentrate on that. Her birthmark itched. It had been doing that more and more since she'd moved here. She tugged her sleeve down, making sure it wasn't visible to any of her classmates.

"Work on the first day?" her pimply lab partner asked. He ripped out a piece of notebook paper and put his name, Donovan, on it. "That sucks."

"This doesn't look like that bad of an assignment," Janelle said, still lost in her own thoughts. Gary's birthmark popped up in her mind again. And that little mole on his nose...why couldn't she stop thinking about him? He was long gone.

He had helped her escape.

Risked facing his scary guardian to do it, too. She owed him one.

She unrolled some plastic wrap and stretched it out over and over to distract her thoughts. Mrs. Vanderson appeared at her table and poured the ocean water into the bowl. A funny tingle swept through Janelle at the salty smell of it. The same thing had happened when she'd caught a whiff of the salt water on Gary. Great. Now she was thinking about him _again_.

"Let's get this done," Donovan said, lifting the bowl off the table. "Uh...ah..." He let out a huge sneeze.

The bowl tilted to the side. Donovan tried to steady it, but it wobbled right off his hand and towards her. Water splashed against her shirt and onto her lap.

Her birthmark tingled and burned. A roar filled her head as Janelle wrapped her arms around herself and gritted her teeth. The roar became a scream and a burst of wind whipped against her clothes and whistled through the room. Students cried out around her. Glass shattered and papers flew. Blinds rattled and books slid across tables, crashing to the floor. Janelle was tilting, swaying, spinning...she could no longer feel her arms or legs. A seizure. This must be a seizure. She was going to die...

The roaring and tilting stopped.

Janelle opened her eyes. The world snapped back into place as water dripped off her lap and onto the floor.

Papers fluttered down while everyone turned in their chairs to look around the room. Mrs. Vanderson stood against a file cabinet, not that Janelle could blame her. And Donovan's face had turned red—really red. He looked down at his own lap and muttered an apology. But Janelle had no time to feel sorry for him. A panic rose inside her like floodwater, threatening to pour out of her at any second.

This had happened as soon as that ocean water had hit her.

"Where did that come from?" the teacher asked, gripping the cabinet as if expecting another blast. "Did someone open the window?"

"No. That was weird," a girl said near the front of the room, rubbing a red mark on her arm and wincing. "The windows are all shut."

"Well, is everyone all right?" Wide-eyed, Mrs. Vanderson walked to the front of the room and stumbled over a fallen chair. "What happened in here? A localized tornado?"

Janelle looked around the room, the flood of terror rising through her chest and making her heart pound as if it were trying to escape. She hadn't had a seizure, that was for sure. Seizures didn't destroy everything around them.

A case of beakers had tipped on a nearby counter and shattered. The floor was a mess: papers, water, and bowls everywhere. The blinds hung in a tangled mess on the other side of the room. At the next table, a girl held her hip as tears formed in her eyes.

Janelle's stomach threatened to heave. The panic rose up her throat, and she couldn't swallow it back down. Now wasn't the time to break down in front of all these strangers.

This had come from her.

"Uh...Mrs. Vanderson? Can I go to the office? I don't feel well and I kind of need to dry off." She had to leave. Now. Even if she got busted for skipping the rest of class.

The teacher studied Janelle's clothes. "Go ahead. At least go dry yourself off. I think we'll just be doing some reading today, anyway." She picked up the fallen chair, muttering something.

Janelle made her way for the door. Nervous chatter surrounded her. No one stared in her direction, but that didn't stop a prickling sensation from crawling up her back, like someone had a camera trained on her. Out. She had to get out.

The hall was empty. Good. She hugged herself and leaned against the lockers. It hurt to swallow over the lump that had formed in her throat.

Gary's guardian had also made a mysterious wind kick up, only on purpose.

Ice flowed through Janelle's veins. No. She wasn't like that woman. Gary's guardian could roar words and who knew what else.

A strangled cry escaped her throat. Janelle ran into a bathroom, glad that no one could see, and unrolled a handful of paper towels to soak the water off her shirt. Another little tingle shot through her body as she pressed the wet clothes against her skin, but this one faded a second later.

Something clicked.

Tap water had never done this. Neither had lake water. Nothing anything like this had happened before she'd moved here.

Did she have some kind of allergy to ocean water? She'd never been exposed to it before.

Janelle stared at her reflection. Blond strands stood up everywhere from the windstorm and her eyes stared back, huge. The girl in the mirror wasn't the calm, collected one who had watched her house in Flint disappear behind her for the last time. It might have been the light, but even the blue of her eyes seemed to have deepened to an ominous gray. She was something different, something new.

But what, exactly?

She wanted to run home. Beg, scream, and cry until her dad moved them back to Michigan.

_And do you think he will? He_ knows _you're not normal._ A cruel little voice mocked her over and over again.

"Shut up," she muttered. After splashing cold water on her face, Janelle grabbed the edges of the basin with trembling hands and stared down at the water swirling into the drain. It sparkled like the vortex that Gary had appeared out of. Like the ocean her father had told her to avoid until they cleaned up the beaches.

She let go and made her way to the office. With a gentle nudge, she opened the door. It stayed on its hinges, letting her breathe a sigh of relief. Nobody else needed to see her freak powers.

Mr. Deville leaned against an empty workstation, chatting with a man that was probably the principal. He turned to face her as she walked in.

"I don't feel the greatest. Is there anywhere I can lie down for a while?" Janelle kept her gaze fixed on the nearest desk. It was best not to look all freaked out in front of these people.

"Um...there's a sick room right over there." Mr. Deville pointed to the back of the office. "If you feel like you've got to go home by one-thirty or so, let someone know. Who sent you?"

"Mrs. Vanderson," Janelle said in the lowest voice she could. The way things were going, she'd start roaring her sentences next.

The sick room had a long examining table and an ugly plastic plant in the corner. The paper crinkled as she sat on the table. She kicked her feet, watching them go back and forth. She had to think. There was no way her dad would move back to Flint. Nobody who wanted to have a job and pay their bills did. Maybe she could talk him into moving inland, as far from the ocean as they could get. Her father could still go to his job, and she'd never have to worry about having this weird reaction again. They'd both win if he decided to listen to her. Or would he just go hide in his study again, like he had that entire week?

Phones rang outside the door and Mr. Deville talked about coaching football—normal stuff—as she focused on her breathing. The words blurred into the background until the door to the office squeaked open.

Mr. Deville went silent as if the President had walked into the room.

"Excuse me," said Gary's guardian. "I'm looking for a student. I'm not sure what her last name is now, but I know she must be going to a school around here. Her name is Janelle."

### Chapter Five

A fist of horror squeezed at her heart. Janelle lifted off the exam table, careful not to make the paper on it crinkle again. It didn't, but the sick room door gaped open like a giant mouth, threatening to give her away. Should she close it? No. She'd draw attention to herself. That woman would _know_ someone was hiding in here.

Gary's guardian continued as if it were perfectly legal to breeze into a school and ask about students. Her voice dripped with a fake candy coating. "She's sixteen now. Born on the seventeenth of August. I'm a relative and I haven't seen her in years. If you'd allow me to explain, I'm sure you'd—"

The principal cleared his throat. "Ma'am, it's our policy not to give out information on our students. You need to be authorized by her parents or legal guardians if you're wanting to visit. If you want, we can call her parents and get permission. What's your name?"

Janelle stiffened. This woman _knew her birthday._ She felt invaded, watched, like a lab mouse in a maze. What else did she know?

The woman whispered something and took a few steps closer to the sick room. "You're a teacher. You'll certainly be helpful and tell me if there are any students named Janelle in your classes?"

Janelle muttered a curse as panic surged into her chest. She must be talking to Mr. Deville. He'd taken her name earlier, so he only had to march over here and say _here you go._ _Please,_ she prayed, drumming her fingers on her jeans. Her vision wavered as she held her breath.

"Not that I'm aware of, Ma'am." Mr. Deville said at last. "And even if I did, it wouldn't stick out to me. I have over a hundred students a day."

_Thank you, thank you!_ Janelle sagged against the table let out her breath.

"Your name, Ma'am," the principal said.

"Okay. I'll go," the woman snapped, the sunshine in her voice replaced with a faint, rolling thunder. The double doors squeaked again. "Why are all these mainland schools so difficult?" Her high heels clicked all the way down the hall as she departed.

Janelle strained her ears. There were no blasts of wind. No roars. She grasped the cold table and urged her heart to slow back to normal as the two men in the office conversed like spies. She would have to make her teacher some cookies, maybe even a cake, for that. Heck, she might even buy him some flowers to put on top of it.

Mr. Deville pushed the sick room door all the way open with a thud, sticking his bald head in. His face had turned into a mask of concern. "You know that woman who just came here? I hope not, for your sake."

She shook her head and forced a smile. "Can I go to my sixth hour? I feel better now." Big lie, but between the roaring woman and Trig, Trig sounded a lot less scary.

"You can go when the bell rings," Mr. Deville said. "I want to be sure she's gone before you go out in those halls."

* * * * *

She had to confront her dad.

As in yell, scream, and demand answers confront. If that woman was going to schools looking for her now, she had to know the truth.

She'd just tell him what happened today. He'd believe her and then maybe, finally, he would tell her whatever she needed to know. It might even get him to move away from here.

The final bell rang and Janelle gathered her Trig book, threw it into her locker, and headed out the door to where the buses waited. She could walk, but maybe it was best not to if Gary's guardian was around. She headed out the door to where they waited.

"Hi, Janelle."

"Huh?" She spun around.

A youth of about sixteen leaned against the brick wall of the school, black bangs hanging in his face. A bit of stubble had appeared on his chin, his skin seemed a bit tighter around his cheekbones, and he now wore a gray shirt instead of a purple one, but the same freckle stood out on his nose.

"Gary," Janelle exhaled. He'd found her. Remembered where she said she lived. And better yet, he was okay. How had he gotten away from his guardian? Now maybe she wouldn't have to confront her dad. "You've got no idea what a relief this is. You're alone, aren't you?" She looked around the lot. No woman in gray.

"You think I'd bring my guardian along? I managed to get away from her right after you left the hospital. I've been wandering around here for a week, trying to _stay_ away from her. I'm glad you took my advice."

"Well, your guardian was just here looking for me."

Gary's eyes got big. "I swear, I told her nothing about you. I don't know where she got your name. She might have figured out your town because you found me here, though."

"She also knows my birthday."

"That _is_ weird," Gary said. "I can't think of an explanation for that one. Sorry."

He didn't look away from her. Janelle couldn't see a trace of a lie on his face. Not like with her father.

The buses waited, rumbling near the front of the school. Screw them. "Okay. This is going to sound stupid. But I need to talk to you. Bad."

"I kind of figured that. Nobody's walking home with you?" His eyes were searching as he studied his surroundings.

"No. I'll text my dad and tell him I'm staying late to try out the chess club or something." Janelle barely heard her own words as she plucked out her phone and typed out the words. "He'll be expecting me to do that, anyway."

"Come on," Gary said. "I changed my mind. You want the truth, so I'm going to give it to you. It's only fair."

They walked off the school grounds and Janelle's palms tingled with nerves. "Where are we going?"

Gary walked faster, like he was anxious to get this done. "To the beach."

* * * * *

Janelle held nothing back on the way to the beach. The incident in Chemistry came pouring out of her as they walked, and each word she said felt like a rock rolling off her shoulders. Gary faced her as they made their way down a side street, not once laughing or even smirking, and not once interrupting her to give her some scientific explanation that didn't really exist. He didn't even look shocked at all. Gary just nodded as she finished, as if he'd expected her story for days.

"It sucks that you had that reaction in class," he said with understanding. "What crappy luck."

They walked downhill now, past the ice cream shop and through downtown. The ocean smell got stronger. "I'm getting the idea that I'm not like everyone else. And that you and that woman aren't, either. Does she have one of these, too?" Janelle held back tears of relief as she rolled up her sleeve to show the gray spiral on her arm. It felt so good to just be able to talk to someone about all of this, and someone who understood.

"Well, yeah. All Tempests have one of those."

Janelle narrowed her eyes at him, wrapping her mind around the word. "Tempests?"

Gary's jaw fell open. "That's what we've always called ourselves. Wow, your dad really has kept you in the dark. Some parents are like that."

"What exactly is a Tempest?" she asked at last.

"It's something I have to show you," he said. "We need a spot on the beach away from everyone else."

"My dad told me not to come to the beach this week," she said as they made their way down the stairs and towards the sand. "He said it was too dirty still. It looks okay to me." The beach spread out ahead, and beyond it, the sparkling ocean. Kids from school laughed and splashed around in the water. Janelle wished she could join them. "I can't do that, can I?"

They reached the sand. Gary watched his feet sink into it. "No. You can't."

"Then why did my dad move me here?" Janelle asked. "He knew I'd have that reaction, didn't he?"

"Your dad's a Tempest, too. He probably moved you here because he wants you to have company. Well, after you find out what you are. I'm sure that's why he gave in and let you see me. Most of us live near the coast or in the tropics."

"My dad?" Janelle exploded. "If he's got this same thing on his arm, why didn't he ever show me?"

Gary's brows rose. "You've never seen his upper arm? He showed it to me when he came up to my room. He's got the same mark we do."

"No. He always wears long sleeved shirts." Why hadn't she _realized?_ She couldn't help but feel betrayed.

"Where else do you think you got it from? It's always inherited from one or both of your parents."

"How could he hide this from me? And you haven't answered my question about what Tempests _are."_

Gary sighed. "I found a spot yesterday under the docks." He peeked at her from the corner of his eye. "Sorry, but this is going to scare the crap out of you."

"Uh...I've already had the crap scared out of me. Your guardian just calmed my nerves, you know." Janelle tried to lift her voice to lighten the mood, but it wasn't working. Gary's gaze stayed as serious as ever.

"Not like this, you haven't. You might be better off not knowing the truth. You can still turn back."

Janelle swallowed a dry lump down her throat, fighting an urge to walk back up the hill and back into town. No. She'd waited _forever_ for this. "I can take it."

"This way." Gary stared at the sand again as he strode towards a chain-link fence that separated the public beach from a rocky, off-limits one.

"But--" Janelle began, but the salty aroma of the ocean hit her again and sent another tingle through her body. That settled it. She followed Gary to the fence.

He'd already hoisted himself over. As Janelle climbed the fence, one of the guys behind them shouted something and laughed with his buddies. It was pretty obvious what they thought she and Gary were planning to do. She ignored them. Obnoxious guys were the least of their worries.

"Is this necessary?" she called out as she landed on the other side.

"Yeah. You'll see," Gary said, trudging forward.

The beach in front of them was littered with boards and splintered plywood, which stuck up like the spikes on the back of a buried dinosaur. Curtains, trash, and even something that looked like a teddy bear lay half-buried in the sand. Whoever owned this beach hadn't called in a cleanup crew yet.

They walked in silence. Every rock and piece of debris on the coast tried to trip her up. But at least the catcalls of the other kids grew fainter behind them. That was a plus. At last, only the cackles of seagulls could be heard along with Gary's strained breathing next to her. He kept his gaze out to sea as if trying to avoid staring at the land around him and at the destruction along the coast.

Janelle glanced up at clusters of battered trees and houses. No one came out to yell at them for trespassing. It wasn't like they could, anyway. Most of the homes sported blue tarps and missing walls, and a few had been reduced to half-standing piles of rubble. It looked as if no one would dare live here again.

"That's where we're going." Gary pointed to a huge dock ahead that stretched over the beach. "The tide's out right now, so we can go under and no one will notice us."

"Is this that bad?" If he had to drag her way out here, it couldn't be good.

Gary didn't answer.

After five long minutes, the dock blocked out the sun. Janelle's sneakers sunk into the wet sand as a chill swept through her. Whatever Gary had to say couldn't be minor if he'd gone to this length to do it. "Okay. Get it over with. The more you wait, the more nervous I get."

Gary backed slowly towards the water. "The ocean's what gives us our power, Janelle. If we're too far away from it, we don't get the whole increased strength and the ability to control wind. That's why you seemed normal until you moved here."

"Okay. Makes sense. Move on." The tingle coursed through her body in waves. Water lurched at the sand as if it were trying to reach for them.

"It's more, though." Gary's voice cracked as he turned away and stared into the water. "It's also a...catalyst...that can make us release our full power, whether we want to or not. Don't you get why I share my name with that storm? Why I appeared right there when it died? I know you saw that. I can remember your face."

A fantastic and terrifying thought crept into her mind, paralyzing her. Gary...Hurricane Gary...Gary. "Uh..."

"That's what happens when Tempests touch the ocean," he said, leaning against a wooden pole and burying his face in the crook of his arm. His words seemed to race and fall apart as he spoke. "You just had a small reaction since it was a bowl of water that fell on you, but diving into that is a different story. You...change. And you can't stop it. The other Tempests forced me to go because my name came up on that storm naming list. That meant it was my time. I tried to escape, but my guardian had me thrown in the water. I tried to calm down before I got to shore. That's why my guardian's mad at me. She wanted more destruction, more deaths. As if the five people I killed aren't enough to make me feel like crap for the rest of my life."

"What?" Janelle's pulse roared in her ears. She couldn't stop what she blurted next. "So you're telling me that because your name came up on that list they use to name tropical storms, you were tossed into the ocean against your will, which made you turn into a hurricane and slam into the coast. And then when you were over land, you changed back and passed out right in front of me." It was a joke. It had to be.

Gary let his arm slap down to his side, but still he didn't face her. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

She took a step back, stumbling over a slimy rock. The bottom of the dock seemed to be coming down on her, closing in. "No. I don't believe you. I refuse. Do you think I'm going to take your word on that? Just tell me the real truth, Gary."

Gary faced her, trembling. His pupils had dilated. "Then how come I can do this?" He raised a hand in the air as if to say _stop_ , and a wind whipped underneath the dock, pushing Janelle's hair into her face. Before she had a chance to flinch, he continued. "And this?" He dropped his hand and the wind died. "And what about this?" Whirling around, he faced the water and focused on it. The ocean started to tumble up and down, defying the calm day. Whitecaps grew taller and grabbed for the sand, hugging Gary's feet and racing for Janelle.

She leapt out of the way and watched the water retreat. The world seemed to tilt around her. She'd taken his bait and fallen into a trap. "Gary, stop this! I don't want to see any more."

Another burst of wind whistled past as water swirled around Gary's feet and retracted into the ocean. He trembled as if he'd just put his hands on an electric fence. Now was he having a seizure on top of all this?

Janelle ran for him, searching for her phone with one hand and slapping her hand down on his shoulder with the other, prepared to call an ambulance. "Gary!"

He turned to face her and she had to choke down a scream.

The gentle hazel had gone. Instead, storm clouds spun and raged around his black pupils. She was staring into the eye of a hurricane.

"See?" Gary's voice took on a growl. "See what I am, and what you are, too!"

### Chapter Six

Janelle screamed at herself to run, to get out of there, but her feet refused to peel themselves off the sand. She couldn't tear her gaze from the pair of eyes that were locked on her. Eyes that weren't Gary's. Eyes that were something as far from human as they could get.

Gary stepped back and groaned, putting a hand over his face. The water slipped back into the ocean. The world froze.

An eternity later, Gary lowered his hand from his face. His wide eyes had gone back to their normal, solid hazel, pleading and terrified. He had returned, shoving the monster inside him back into a vault somewhere. "Don't run. Please."

"You're...you're--" Janelle backed away until she bumped into the hill behind her. No. It couldn't be true.

Gary raised his palms as if Janelle were pointing a gun at him, glancing at the row of ruined houses. "Please hear me out. There was no way I wanted to do...that...but when my name came up, they forced me. That tropical storm naming list isn't just to keep track of hurricanes, like people think. Tempests invented it. When a Tempest is born, their name gets down on that list. It's our law. I'll explain it to you later. And when your name comes up, you have to become a storm, whether you want to or not. And then—"

"Get away from me." She turned and scrambled up the hill. "Don't come near me again!"

"Janelle! Wait!" Gary's footfalls fell on the sand below. "I'm not going to do anything. Tempests aren't supposed to hurt each other. I kept that telephone pole from falling on you."

She froze, fingernails digging into the sand. She'd never said a word to him about that.

Gary was telling the truth. He really _was_ a killer.

"Please don't run." Gary appeared beside her, crouching in the sand. "We can't let anyone know about this. It has to stay a secret. We're in _Florida._ If they find out what we are, they'll probably lynch us."

"Let me go. Please." She had to find normal people. She—

Gary's hand brushed against the back of her shirt. "I know this is scary. Just--"

"Get away!" A chain-link fence waited at the top of the hill, blocking her escape. A warehouse was beyond it. Janelle grabbed the fence and shook it against the poles. A squeal of panic filled her head, chasing away all thoughts of controlling herself. "Anybody! Help!"

Silence. A seagull took off into flight.

"Quiet." Gary seized Janelle's ankle, staring up at her with his mouth hanging open.

She kicked and his grip loosened. "Let go!"

Gary tumbled downhill in an avalanche of sand. _Thud_. He landed on the beach, sprawled out and facedown as the ocean lapped for him. It missed by a few feet and drew back.

Janelle let out a breath. She'd knocked him out. She turned to climb the fence again, but her gut clenched the second she put her hand on it. Gary might be injured. He'd lay there for days, and she'd be at fault. Or it could be a trick to make her go back down there. What to do?

With a groan, Gary lifted an arm and started to push himself up.

Okay. That settled it.

Janelle hoisted herself over the fence, catching her jeans on the top for one terrifying second. After tugging them free, she swung her feet over and hit the pavement running. Her footfalls thudded in her ears as she dashed past a rusty gate and onto a side street.

"Janelle!" Gary shouted from somewhere back.

Another _thud_. He'd jumped the fence.

_Lose him_. If he caught her, he might toss her into the ocean. He'd been talking about some law about that. Maybe he'd come to force her to--

Janelle turned and cut through a yard, dodging around a stack of plywood. A side street, a drive...it all blurred together as she ran.

Gary called for her again, fainter this time.

Downtown Palm Grove stretched out in front of her with its shops and hangouts. Hide. She needed to hide. Where would he not think to hunt for her?

Janelle bolted down the closest alley. She ducked down on the other side of a dumpster, took off her backpack, and pressed herself against the brick wall.

She held her breath against the stench and waited for footfalls to grow closer and closer. Nothing. It seemed like she'd eluded Gary. Only the sound of passing cars and laughing students floated down the alleyway.

Janelle let out a huge breath and covered her eyes with her hands. She'd come face to face with a monster she had never dreamed existed—a hurricane in human form. It was unbelievable.

It made sense.

Gary shared his name with the storm. He'd appeared right when it died. He couldn't bear to look at the storm damage—the damage he had done. And his eyes would haunt her nightmares forever. Had her own eyes looked like that when the bowl of seawater had splashed on her? She squeezed them shut and hugged her knees. She wasn't a Tempest! She _wasn't!_

A truck rumbled past. Minutes passed as Janelle rocked back and forth as it all sunk in. Maybe, just maybe, it hadn't really been Gary she'd been running from. It had been everything else. Her father's lie.

Herself.

Gary was still out there, searching for her, maybe even thinking that she hated him. He'd given her the truth she had asked for. He hadn't even wanted to turn into a giant storm. That, she could believe. He deserved an apology, and there was more he wanted to tell her. Maybe he'd tell her why his guardian was after her.

Yes. She had to find him and apologize for freaking out.

She picked herself up, grabbed her backpack, and left the alley, resolved to take whatever Gary had to tell her next. How was she going to say sorry? Would he even accept it after she'd pushed him down that hill?

But Gary was nowhere in sight. Janelle checked the ice cream shop, the store, and even the beach again. He'd vanished. Maybe he did hate her now. She'd blown it.

After searching for half an hour, she headed home. There was nothing else she could do.

Her dad's truck wasn't in the driveway. Good. She didn't want to face him or his betrayal right now. Janelle took another look behind her as she unlocked the door, went inside, and bolted it behind her. Yes. Gary had left. It wasn't like she could blame him, but that didn't stop the pain in her chest. Gary was the only solid land she had in a sea of lies.

Janelle was on her own all over again, flailing.

_Your dad's a Tempest, too._ Gary's words rang through her head as a fresh wave of nausea swept through her. Her father? The man who volunteered at soup kitchens and helped the neighbors with the cleanup? No. It couldn't be.

She dropped her backpack at her bedroom door and faced her computer. If her dad was a Tempest, that would have to mean--

"No!"

She raced over to the monitor and loaded up the Internet browser. She typed two words, two words she didn't want to put together. Her heart hammered in her throat. One of those screens that said she had no results would pop up. It had to.

Search results filled the screen from top to bottom. Janelle's gaze landed on the first article on the list.

_Hurricane Lucas._ In bold blue letters.

Janelle felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. A choking sound escaped her throat as she clicked on the link, unable to look away. Lucas. Her father's name.

_HURRICANE LUCAS. Article by Freepedia._ Below that, a hurricane bore down on the East Coast, staring out at her with its black eye. If this was...if this was...she scrolled down to hide the picture.

Hurricane Lucas was one of the most powerful storms to hit coastal North Carolina during the eighties. The system began suddenly as a tropical depression just off the coast of Bermuda in September of 1985 and strengthened into a tropical storm the next day. On September 10 Lucas became a Category 1 hurricane 500 miles off the U.S. coast. After passing over warm waters it evolved into a strong Category 3 storm with winds of up to 120 miles per hour. Lucas made landfall on September 13 and left about 5 billion dollars worth of damage, much of it to the fishing industry. Though its rains ended a two-month drought in the area, it killed 13 people who did not follow evacuation orders and left another 28 injured.

Janelle fumbled with the mouse and closed the window with a trembling hand. _Killed 13 people._ No! She hadn't read that. This was all a bizarre coincidence. Lucas was a common name, and there was no way her father could be this monster.

Janelle tossed herself down onto her cold bedcovers as a sob racked her body. Her dad had also turned into a hurricane and killed people. It explained everything. He'd spent his life helping others in need—was it all to make up for what he'd done?

Stomach lurching, she focused on the picture of her mother instead. She smiled out from the dock, black curls hanging around her ears. Had she been a Tempest, too, or a normal human? She'd never heard of a Hurricane Tina, but she didn't want to look it up and blow the last of her hope away. She needed some to cling to right now. With Gary gone and her father refusing to open up, it was the best she could do.

Somebody tapped on her window. Janelle shot up and sucked in a breath, making the bed creak underneath her. Could it be--

Gary stood on the other side of the glass, motioning down to the latch.

"Janelle, we need to talk," he shouted through the glass. "I'll admit it. I followed you without you knowing because I didn't want to freak you out again. Sorry."

"You came back." She couldn't hide the relief in her voice. "I'm sorry I had a panic attack like that. I shouldn't have. You're not hurt, are you?"

"Sorry?" His eyes widened behind the glass. "What you did was normal, Janelle. If I were you, I would've run, too. I promise, I won't do what I did at the beach, because I hated that just as much as you did. I had to make you believe me about everything. Listen to me and you'll stand a better chance at escaping what's coming. Can you let me in?"

He forgave her. She wanted to cry with relief, but held it back.

"Yes. I don't know when my dad's going to be back, though. I'll let you in at the front. Then I have to ask you something." Gary wouldn't lie about what was on the screen.

A minute later, she and Gary stood in front of the computer. "Now be honest." With a click she pulled up the _Hurricane Lucas_ article and stared down at the white carpet, but not before she caught a glimpse of the storm's twisting eye. "Is this...is this..." _My dad,_ she meant to finish. But the lump in her throat grew too painful for speech.

Gary lowered his voice as if he were at a funeral. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I couldn't keep from warning you. My mom told me about the whole Tempest deal when I was twelve, and man, I took it pretty hard. I didn't talk to her for days. I bet there's an article there on her too, if it's any consolation."

Janelle put her palms down on her desk. If she didn't, she'd collapse right there on the floor in front of Gary. She pointed to the monitor, keeping her gaze glued to a pencil mark in the wood. "Did the other Tempests force him to become...that...or did he do this on his own?"

"Don't know. I never actually knew your dad. I only just met him at the hospital."

"I can't live with this." Janelle's pulse throbbed across her temples. Great. Another headache on top of all this. "How can I even look at my dad again, knowing he's killed people?"

"I've killed people, too."

"That's different. You're not my family." She covered her face in her hands. A nightmare. That's all this was.

"Your dad doesn't seem like the kind who did it on purpose. Not like some Tempests I know too well. He had no choice but to change no matter what. When your name comes up, you have to become a storm whether you like it or not. That's what I came to warn you about."

"Warn me?" Janelle lowered her hands from her face. The gurgling in her stomach was enough to tell her what was next.

Gary's hazel eyes bore into hers, serious. "Yeah. Has your dad decided to take you out on a boat sometime in the next week or so? Take you out somewhere in the ocean?"

A chill swept through her. "We're going scuba diving next week in the Bahamas."

Her breath caught. _Oh, God_.

"That's what your dad wants you to think. It's not scuba diving you're going to be doing." Gary wiped his palms on his jeans. "A lot of Tempest parents don't tell their kids anything, then shove them off a boat or something when their time comes."

A hollow terror bloomed in her chest. "No. My dad wouldn't do that to me."

Gary marched over to the computer and typed three words into the search bar: _hurricane naming list._ Another article from Freepedia popped up. He clicked, and columns of names for the Atlantic hurricane seasons filled the screen. "Take a look."

"I don't want to see this." But she couldn't look away. Her legs carried her closer to the monitor, one step at a time.

Gary tapped his finger on one of the columns. "Look here."

Janelle raised one shaking finger, pressed it to the screen, and made her way down the column. GARY...HEATHER...IAN...

A moan of horror escaped her throat.

...JANELLE.

### Chapter Seven

Janelle swiped the contents of the bathroom sink into her gym bag: deodorant, toothpaste, a few combs, and several other items. A towel...she'd need one of those, too. And aspirin.

"Gary! Help me pack." She made her way to her neat closet and threw clothes out. It didn't matter what she took. All that mattered right now was getting away from this, from what her father had done to her. She wanted to vomit when she thought of her dad, smiling as he told her about the vacation that wasn't really a vacation. "He's my father, Gary. How could he do this to me? He's not the type who likes to hurt people."

But he had.

He had killed, even.

Gary flinched at her last sentence. He'd pressed himself up against the wall to avoid the flying shirts. "I don't know. He must be a stickler for the law."

She imagined a _Hurricane Janelle_ article appearing on _Freepedia_ in the near future and hugged herself, dropping the bag to the floor. "So he cares about this Tempest law more than what this is going to do to me or everyone I could hurt? He was just planning on letting me jump off the boat and finding out about all this the hard way?" The world took on a surreal gray tone. "That doesn't make any sense." The thought of becoming a violent force of nature was just too weird, too alien, to terrifying to think about. Worse still was the thought of hurting anybody.

Gary rubbed his palms on his jeans. "I know. It doesn't. I never understood it."

"That's why I'm getting a flight back to Michigan. There's no ocean there."

"We can try that. I have to get away, too. Andrina's going to kill me if I don't."

Janelle whirled around to face him. "Andrina? _That's_ who your guardian is? _That's_ who I met at the hospital?"

Gary nodded. "Surprised?"

She shook her head. The thought had crossed her mind earlier, but she'd shoved it down inside, hoping that it was anything else.

"See why I don't want to be around her? She wants every Tempest to be as bad as her. Some of us try not to hurt too many people, but Andrina just likes killing. I don't know what her problem is, but you don't want to see her again."

Janelle's stomach turned. The infamous Andrina was walking around in human form right now, searching for her. What a nice, comforting thought. "W...what does she want with me?"

Gary drew a deep breath. "She claims we're at war with humanity, and wants every other Tempest to jump on her cause. You saw what she did to coastal Texas six years ago, so I believe her. Plus, she's always spouting crap about having to protect Tempests from the rest of the world in case they discover us. Which is a good point, but I don't think her killing as many people as possible is the way to do it. Anyway, I'm guessing she wants to take you to Alara to put you in her reeducation program, since you're pretty much next to transform."

"Alara?" It was bad enough that her father had lied to her, and this was worse. If Andrina was in the area, she couldn't stay here even if her father apologized and agreed not to take her out on any boats in the future. "Reeducation program?"

"Yeah. It's an island out in the Caribbean that only Tempests know about, somewhere south of the Bahamas. I've lived there for the past four years. Andrina and the Elder Council live there, too. Basically, it's our capital. And her program is where she takes Tempest kids and tries to brainwash them into killers. Well, _worse_ killers. I'm not the only kid she had there. I'm sure she wants to take you, do some brainwashing stuff, and _then_ make you transform."

Janelle felt her jaw dropping as she turned to lean against the wall. "This is just too much. Why don't the Tempests who try not to kill people stop her?"

"That's kind of hard when she's the Tempest High Leader and she's got the Elder Council in her pocket. Some of them, at least. She took charge when her grandfather died. Great, huh? And there's no law in our books saying you can't kill as many people as you want when you change, so there's no reason for them to take her out of power."

The rumble of an engine floated in. Her father had come home.

"Hide!" She gave Gary a shove into the closet, and he didn't resist. "He'll know that I know everything if he sees you here." She'd lose her advantage then, and he might try to go shove her in the ocean tonight. Gary said nothing as she closed the door and straightened out her hair.

Her father would suspect something if she didn't look and act completely normal, which she'd have to pull off to make a clean getaway later. Once in the hallway, she examined herself in the mirror and breathed deeply. _Calm down_ , she told herself. _Don't look like you're ready to scream._ The mask went up as her eyebrows relaxed and some color returned to her features. Satisfied that her face looked calm and untroubled, Janelle stepped out into the living room.

The silver of her father's truck gleamed in the driveway. The engine died and her dad climbed out along with the neighbor guy. They'd been out again. The two chatted as her dad pulled a box out from behind the passenger seat and reached in for a plastic grocery bag.

Her father, the killer.

She'd never look at him the same again.

Her dad parted opened the front door and waved to the neighbor. "So how was school today?" he asked, smiling. He was wearing a mask, too, one she could see past for the first time in her life.

"Fine." Her voice sounded like she'd swallowed some helium. _Calm, stay calm_. Now to find something normal to say. "I got a lot of homework to do ahead of time."

"That's good." He opened the cupboard and shoved a can of green beans in between two cans of peas.

She forced her way to the fridge and poured herself a glass of orange juice, then made herself to take a seat at the table. The air had grown thick. Heavy. She couldn't breathe.

Her dad took a seat opposite her and adjusted his watch. "You're awfully quiet."

"I don't feel very good today. I didn't sleep too well last night." _And I just found out you want me to turn into a hurricane and kill a bunch of people. That'll do it, too._

"Well, maybe you should go to bed early. I want you well rested for the trip." Her father shot her a smile. Didn't he understand what he wanted to make her do? "Our flight leaves Monday morning and we'll spend our first day sightseeing around the islands. Tuesday we'll go shopping. Wednesday we do the scuba diving lesson. You're in for a surprise that day."

Janelle choked on the orange juice, nearly spitting it out onto the table. Now she'd blown it. "Surprise? What surprise?"

If her father knew anything, he sure didn't show it. "Well, it wouldn't exactly be one if I told you." He stared at her with his gray eyes, almost prodding, and for one sickening moment Janelle imagined the center of Hurricane Lucas swirling inside them.

Category 3 storm.

Janelle pulled her mouth into a smile, the hardest thing she had ever done. "I can't wait."

5 billion dollars worth of damage.

Her dad opened up one of his computer magazines. Conversation over.

Killed 13 people.

Janelle crept over to the sink and dumped out the rest of her orange juice. Her stomach churned like she might throw up. "I'm going to lie down. My head's pounding." That part wasn't a lie.

"Sure thing. I'll get dinner started."

Janelle made her way down the hallway and to her room, leaving behind the father she thought she knew. She closed the door behind her as a cry of revulsion escaped her throat. No matter where she went in the house, she had a killer to run into. But at least Gary wanted to help her escape becoming one herself.

"So...how are we getting out of here?" Gary's voice floated out from the crack under the closet door.

"Well, I can't leave right now. We should make a run for it after dinner. That's when he's in his study. I'm going to break this stupid law."

Gary didn't speak for almost a full minute. Then he opened the door and spoke, his eyes soft and determined at the same time. "I'll help you, Janelle. Nobody's done it before to my knowledge, since the Elder Council makes sure of that, but you might have a chance since they don't seem to know where you live. They're the ones who put our names on that list, by the way. They're obsessed with the Natural Law."

"And what's that?" It was best to know as much as possible before setting out.

"They _say_ that Tempests were made by a storm god and that he gave us these rules we had to follow a long time ago. And they suck. Thanks to them I was forced to change." A groan crept into his voice. "I think that whole story was made up to keep Tempests in line, but do you want to hear the legend? My mom told it to me before I got taken away."

Taken away? Had Andrina actually kidnapped Gary? She almost asked him, but the pain in his voice told her it wasn't the time. "No, maybe later." It wouldn't be a good idea to stand there and listen to a story when her dad could knock on her door any second. "We've got to come up with a plan. Look, I've got eight hundred dollars in my account. We can get a flight back to Michigan. How much do you have?"

"Uh...forty dollars. Sorry."

"That's fine." It beat what she'd expected—nothing. "I'll see if my friend Leslie can let us stay at her house for a day or two, or at least meet us at the airport. But we'll have to find someplace else to go after that. My dad will look there for us."

"But how do we get to the airport?"

Janelle let out a curse, not caring that she was letting the mask slip away. Her father wasn't here to see it. "Well, we can either find a bus somewhere or steal my dad's truck. And I'm not stealing his truck. I'll get online and plan this out, but first I've got to call my friend."

Janelle pulled out her phone and dialed her number. How was she supposed to explain _this_ one?

The call went straight to Leslie's answering service. Leslie didn't even have her phone turned on right now. She must have used up all her minutes in record time—again. What a surprise.

Janelle sighed into the phone. "Leslie, my dad's sending me back up there for a few days because our house is flooding. It just came up. We don't know anyone down here, so there's no one I can stay with. I'll try flying out from Orlando. Sorry to throw this on you so soon." She closed the phone and set it down, realizing just how weird and awkward it sounded. "How was that?"

Gary stuck his fingers out from under the door. "Hey, it beats what I would've said. How are you going to explain me?"

Janelle's face turned warm. "Um...that's the least of our problems."

* * * * *

Over the next hour, Janelle looked at flights at the area airports. Only Orlando had any going up to Flint within a day or so. And that was an hour away, of course. But too much could happen in the next few days that could prevent her escape, like her dad seeing through her bad charade earlier. So they had to take whatever flight they could get.

"Looks like we'll be using a dial-a-ride to get there," she whispered to Gary. "I put in for them to pick us up at the high school at eight tonight. I don't think my dad would let us get picked up here."

"I can pay for that. You're taking this all pretty well."

"What choice do I have?" Another lump formed in her throat. She pictured crashing waves and palm trees bending under a fierce wind. The image was stuck in her head. "We leave as soon as he's on the phone or something. I'll leave some music on to make him think I'm still in here. It could be hours before he notices I'm missing."

Orange light crept across her carpet. It felt like the sun was going down forever.

Her dad called her out to dinner and she turned off her phone to make sure Leslie wouldn't call back and give anything away. He served up homemade macaroni and green beans, which she wolfed down as he asked her about her classes. It was her last meal with him. _At least for a while._ She repeated that to herself again and again, and it kept her from breaking down right there at the table. She couldn't meet his gaze. What if she saw those hurricane eyes staring back at her instead of his human ones, like she had with Gary?

An eternity later, her dad vanished into the study. Janelle grabbed a new plate and scooped the leftover macaroni onto it before returning to her room.

"Here. Eat fast. It's six and it might take an hour to get to the school." She opened her closet door and shoved the plate in as Gary muttered his thanks.

Chewing and scraping sounds followed. "This is a big change from earlier," he said. "You were running from me before, and now you're feeding me."

"Well...it's different now. I didn't know about my dad's plans. Besides, you deserve a decent meal." Her face flushed again as she picked up her gym bag. "You think Andrina will know where to look for us?"

Gary shook his head. "I doubt it. As long as you're not paying for everything with a card, she shouldn't be able to track us down. But she's smart, believe me."

He put the plate down. It was time to go. Just one more thing.

She plucked the picture of her mom from its frame and slid it into her pocket. It was the last shard of sanity she had, and the only memento she could carry.

Janelle plucked a random album off her rotating CD rack and put it into her stereo. She turned the music up as Gary emerged from her closet. Her dad would hear it if he walked past the door.

Letting out a breath, she took one last look at her room and the life she was leaving behind. Dolphins smiled out at her. Stuffed sea stars grinned to the music coming out of her stereo. The memories of the life she'd had before the move. How long would she have to stay gone? A while, at least.

Tears blurred her vision. "Let's go."

Bag under her arm and keys gripped tight in her hand, Janelle crept slowly down the hall. Gary's breath blew against her hair. Her heart thudded so hard her dad might hear it.

A muffled explosion came out from the study. He was playing video games, his usual nighttime activity, so it was less likely he'd hear her over it.

That stupid board creaked underfoot.

Janelle froze, holding her breath. A loud burst of artillery came out of the computer. But there was no creaking of her dad's computer chair or footsteps behind the door. That was a relief.

Janelle didn't dare let out a breath until she'd gone around the coffee table. She leaned against the coolness of the door and willed her heart to slow.

Gary stood next to her, blocking out the bay window. His breath blew against the side of her neck. Another tingle raced across her skin, and this one had nothing to do with the ocean. He was standing so close to her...

Janelle turned away and rested her forehead on the cool wood of the door as her chest constricted. She was leaving her father, her only family. What would he think when he got up in the morning and found her gone? He'd figure out why she left, but he'd sit here and worry so much. Her throat hurt. She took a step back to return to her room when the hideous image of a hurricane reared up behind her eyes. No. She had to leave, because she'd kill people if she didn't. She unlocked the door and turned the knob to pull it open.

A door opened and footsteps thudded down the hall. "Janelle? What are you _doing?"_

Her heart leapt as she whirled around.

Her father stood at the mouth of the hallway, adjusting his glasses. The computer kept playing explosions and gunshots down the hall. So he'd used the same trick as her, making her think he was busy. He might have been waiting on the other side of the door the entire time, waiting for her to spring the trap.

"Uh..." she dropped her duffel bag. No excuse or charade would work now.

Her dad looked down to the bag, up to her, and over to Gary, who'd pressed up against the window. He swallowed and sucked in a breath. "So...you know now. I was afraid of that when you were so jumpy earlier. Oh honey, I'm so sorry you found out like this."

Janelle backed into the door, slamming it shut by accident. She couldn't stop the words that tumbled from her mouth. "I went online and I saw what you did. You killed people!"

Another explosion from down the hall. A scream. Then silence.

Her dad's eyes turned towards the floor as he unbuttoned his left sleeve and started to roll it up, to expose the upper arm she'd never seen before.

There was only one reason for that, but she couldn't look away.

The familiar gray spiral stood out against her father's pale skin, skin that had never seen daylight for that reason. Keeping his gaze trained on the floor, he spoke the three worst words he could have said. "Yes. You're right."

Janelle let out a half-scream, half-sob. "No!"

Her father backed away and raised a palm. His eyes had gone a watery red, but he blinked it away. "I had to do what was expected of me. Gary did, too. The deaths weren't intentional. Sometimes tragedies happen, especially with a nature like ours. When you change and try not to kill, it's like trying to walk across a field without stepping on any bugs." He raised his head and wet his lips. "That's the unfortunate part of our role as Tempests."

"Oh," Janelle moaned, slapping her hand to her forehead. The world spun around her. This wasn't her father in front of her, talking about killing. "You're not saying these things, Dad. You're not!"

Footsteps approached and her father's shoes entered her field of vision. A moment later his arms pulled her into a hug, and she was too shaky to resist. "I'm so sorry. I tried, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you. It's never easy, finding out. It would have been simpler for you not to know anything before your time. So much emotional upset is spared that way."

Janelle trembled as she settled into his warmth. She squeezed her eyes shut, resting her head on her father's chest. The world stopped spinning for a moment. He was lying. He had to be. He'd tell her in a minute that this was all some elaborate joke, and that he and Gary had planned it out for weeks, and that—

"Gary, look at what you've done. I told you not to tell her anything." A bit of venom had crept into her father's words. He released her and stepped back. "Janelle, where did you find him?"

"At the hospital." There was no point in lying now.

Her father sucked in a deep breath. "Janelle, did...did that woman in the gray business suit see you?"

She nodded, begging her quivering chin to stop. She was about to lose it completely.

"Did she try to come after you?"

No point in hiding this anymore. "Y...yes. At the hospital and at school."

Her father swore and paced across the living room. "That's never good news. I never should've taken you to the hospital." His voice was filled with self-loathing, heavy and ready to pull him down to the floor.

Janelle barely heard her own words. "Dad, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know she'd be there. I went back after you said no. So it's mine." Busted, but who cared? She needed to change the subject before she broke down crying.

No lecture. No break. "She'll want you to kill as many people as possible," her dad said, ashen. "And she has ways to force you. We leave for the Bahamas tomorrow. I'm booking the first flight. Gary, you're coming with us. There's a few Tempest families down that way that might be willing to hide you." He stepped towards Janelle, eyes very dark and gray. "Now we can't risk delaying your transformation another day. If Andrina finds you—"

"I'm not taking this trip!" The mask fell as Janelle's voice screamed in her own ears. So he did care about this law more than what this was going to do to her, or he wasn't going to stand up to it. "I'm not going to level a city or drown a bunch of people. We can just go inland and get away from her. I'm sure there's lots of places we can go."

Her father's voice shook as he fumbled for words. "Don't be afraid, Janelle. When you change, you get a whole new perspective. It's an experience you can't imagine. And--"

"Get away from me." Stomach heaving, she backed away and bumped into the kitchen table. His trembling voice told her that he didn't believe what he was saying. Was he a puppet, spouting someone else's words? The Elder Council's, maybe?

The table lurched and the truck keys jingled on it. Janelle seized them and bolted for the front door. It would have to be the truck after all.

"Janelle, please listen to me." Her dad pressed himself against the door.

"You've lied to me enough!" Her senses cleared. Every sound amplified in her ears as she ran for the kitchen window. Her footfalls. A car rolling past. "Gary, come on!"

Her dad's mouth dropped open as he ran for her, but Gary jumped in front of him. They crashed and hit the wall with a thump.

"Go, Janelle!" Gary shouted. "Get out of here!"

Janelle slid the window open with a bang. Muggy air and orange light washed over her as she crawled out. She landed on cool grass, sprang up, and raced for the silver truck.

Thumps and bangs echoed in her ears. The front door flew open and both her father and Gary scrambled out, pushing each other aside. Gary couldn't hold him back for long.

"Just put the keys down, Janelle!" Her father yelled over Gary's grunts.

She wouldn't give him time to drag her down the ocean and shove her in. Janelle hit the remote. _Click_. The doors unlocked. Now she'd have to start the truck before her dad pulled her out. She reached it as Gary jumped into the passenger seat and slammed his door.

"Come back in the house." Her dad appeared at her side and seized her left arm with a grip like iron.

Janelle froze in place. He wanted to talk this out? He'd already made it clear that she wouldn't have any choices in this matter. She struggled to wrench her arm from his grip, not caring if the neighbors overheard. "I'm not going to be a monster!"

"Janelle—"

"Leave me alone!" She flicked her arm to the side and his grip broke.

Her father hurtled backwards towards the house. Time slowed. He hit the shrubs and fell back into them. Leaves swallowed him up, cracking and bending.

"Oh..." Janelle stared at her father's legs, which stuck out of the shrub, thrashing. She'd hurled _him_ across the yard now. He might have lied to her, betrayed her, and once turned into a deadly force of nature, but he was still her father. The only parent she had left. He'd never actually hurt _her._ Despite the last few days, that she knew for sure.

The driver's side door came open and Gary leaned out. "Last chance to go, Janelle!"

"But my dad—"

"Janelle," her father said, breaking away from the shrub. "Careful. The neighbors--"

Her father was okay. Now she could go.

Janelle leaped into the truck and started the ignition, ignoring the guilt squeezing at her heart. The truck's engine roared to life and the headlights shined on her father. "Seat belt," she said to Gary.

He whipped it around himself and nodded to her. _Go_ , it meant.

Janelle felt for the gearshift and pulled it back with a trembling arm. Drive...which one was drive? No, reverse. She lifted her foot to mash the accelerator.

Too late. Her father jumped forward and seized the front bumper.

It was as if the truck had been chained to an aircraft carrier. Tires squealed against pavement. The truck lurched back a few inches and stopped. Her father grimaced, showing his teeth. He was holding the truck there with his _bare hands._

"What?" Janelle beat the steering wheel. "Come on, come on, come on!"

The squealing grew louder. A rubbery stench hit her nostrils. At last the truck broke free and reversed so fast that Janelle scrambled to find the brake. They came to a stop inches from the neighbor's debris pile, sending her back into the seat.

"No, Janelle!" Her dad raced for the truck, arms waving in disregard for whatever the neighbors might see. His eyes were wide and desperate. Terrified. She'd never seen them that way before.

She almost put the truck in park and opened the door. But the thought of what she'd become if she did kept her foot down.

Gary tapped her right arm. "Go."

"I am!" She switched gears and hit the gas again, blazing down the street. In the rearview mirror, her father stood in the middle of the street and let his arms slap back down to his sides.

Janelle let out a long breath. Now not only had she run away, she'd stolen the truck and nearly given him a heart attack. But the alternative would be..."I can't believe this."

"We can just drive to Orlando from here. We can stop at a gas station and ask for a map," Gary said, flinging his bangs from his face.

Something flared inside of her. "Don't you realize my dad could've been hurt back there?" Janelle blazed past mailboxes and piles of debris waiting for pickup. "And all you said was 'let's go.' I might want to get away from this, but he's still my dad, Gary."

Gary stared down at his feet. "Sorry. You're right. I was just trying to help you not go through what I did."

"That's okay." Janelle went through an intersection, not daring to look back at the sight of her house getting smaller behind her. It might make her turn and go back. Silence grew heavy. It was time to change the subject. "How am I going to explain this to Leslie? She won't buy my excuse for long, if she even bought it at all." Her voice cracked. "Hey, I came back up here because I didn't want to add 'destructive hurricane' to my resume?"

Gary leaned back into the seat. "Say your dad hit you or something."

"But he's not abusive and he never has been. Everyone knows that. I can't do that to him, too." What kind of family did Gary come from if this was how he was all the time?

Well, his mother _did_ have a drinking problem. That might be part of his attitude.

Janelle fell silent as her vision blurred. Maybe she could go back home next year, or when hurricane season was done. It would be too late for her to change then, since her name wouldn't be on that list. This didn't have to be permanent.

"Janelle! That light's red!"

Crap. Twin traffic signals glowed like a pair of evil eyes ahead. They'd never stop in time. She lifted her foot and slammed on the brake.

Too late. With another squeal of tires, they slid right into the busy intersection—and straight into the path of an oncoming freight truck.

### Chapter Eight

Headlights blinded Janelle as a horn blasted through the air. All thought left her. She slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. Gary swore as they burst towards the other side of the intersection. Maybe they could make it through before--

_Bang_.

A jolt seized Janelle's body. Glass shattered. The world spun. The massive side of the freighter rumbled past. Another jolt shook her body as they slammed into a street sign.

They stopped. Janelle let out a huge breath.

Was she hurt? And what about Gary? She glanced at him. He laid back on the seat, mouth gaping open and arms limp at his sides. A numb shock took over the strange calm. No. He couldn't be dead. Not after what he'd done for her.

"Gary!" She broke her paralysis and shook his arm.

"Huh?" He blinked, like he'd woken up from a long nightmare. "You all right?"

Janelle leaned forward to hug him, but the seat belt held her back. "You're okay," she breathed, heart bashing against her chest. She glanced at her body, expecting blood and splintered bone, but there was none.

The freighter had squeaked to a stop ahead of them. A man in a blue uniform jumped down from the passenger door and raced for them, mouth hanging open. "Are you hurt?" he called.

The rest of the shock blew away in a second. "I don't know. I don't know." A panic seized her. Janelle's breath came in shallow gasps as she gripped the fabric of her jeans.

Gary sat up with a groan. "This isn't good."

"How bad?" Janelle looked out the rear window. It was smashed. Gone. Glass covered the floor of the truck, sparkling yellow in the streetlight. One corner of the tailgate was bent in as if a giant's hand had squeezed it.

Maybe she should feel some kind of revenge against her father, but she couldn't. The sight of the truck only made her heart ache more. She was already destroying things. Maybe her Tempest nature was already taking over.

Janelle urged her heart to slow. She took a deep breath. No chest pain flared inside her, so her ribs were fine, at least.

"You want me to call an ambulance?" The guy stared in with huge eyes. "The driver up there's calling the police right now. And we'll need your insurance info. This truck's gonna have to be towed, unfortunately."

"No thank you." Janelle flipped off her seatbelt. "I'm sure they'll send one anyway. Look, we've got to go." Her father was only two minutes away. He could get here in no time even if we walked. And if the cops got here, there would be no leaving.

"Yeah." Gary tossed his seatbelt off. "We really need to leave, sir."

The man held up a hand, squinting at the rear tire. "You can't go until the police get here. That's a felony. And you're not moving with a back end like that."

Janelle jumped out of the truck. Gary's feet slapped onto the pavement as he ran over to join her. She ignored the slowing traffic around them and followed the truck driver's gaze.

Gary's mouth fell open. "Oh, man."

The back tire had twisted out of place. They weren't moving, unless they wanted to spark all the way to Orlando. Her stomach got heavy. She was doing everything wrong, everything. Gary must think she was an idiot. Her father would never forgive her. Would he?

But she couldn't stop now, not unless she wanted to become a murderer. Janelle waved to Gary. "Come on."

The truck driver narrowed his eyes at her. "Whoa. I said you're not going anywhere. You could get in big trouble for leaving the scene of an accident. I'm talking jail time."

Gary raised his eyebrows and shot her a look. _What now?_

Janelle's legs threatened to give out. Jail time beat spinning over the Atlantic as a giant storm, hands down. Maybe then, her father wouldn't be able to take her to the ocean. "We're sorry about this. When my dad gets here, let him know we're okay." She seized Gary's arm and bolted to the walkway. He didn't resist.

The man yelled at her to come back, but his voice faded into the traffic noise behind them.

Gary ran beside her. "Janelle, this is illegal."

"So is killing people." _Now_ he wanted her to stick around? He sure hadn't when she'd thrown her dad across the yard. Wow, she didn't get him. She ran across the parking lot of a party store with rubbery legs, a sick feeling filling her.

He took her arm. "Okay. You've got a point. We lay low as much as possible."

Sirens wailed and grew louder. Her back prickled, as if they could see her already.

_No one got hurt. No one got hurt._ She repeated the mantra to herself as she ran, pulling Gary between a plaza and a tall wooden fence. If she didn't, her legs would stop and carry her back, fueled by that sickening guilt.

* * * * *

Janelle's feet ached and burned by the time they got to Palm Grove High School almost an hour later.

They'd walked into the end of a football game. Cars pulled out of the parking lot and the lights to the field dimmed, leaving the campus in darkness. Hopefully they could blend in if the cops came looking this way. Otherwise they might be screwed.

"Great. Witnesses," Gary said, stopping near the curb.

"We'll blend right in until everyone leaves. Where's our ride?" Janelle looked back and forth across the parking lot for the blue dial-a-ride van that was supposed to pick them up at eight. A nervous feeling bloomed in her stomach. "Uh, Gary? What time is it?"

"Probably eight-thirty by now." He glanced at the sky and shot her a grimace. "I think we missed our ride."

Janelle sighed and kicked at a piece of loose concrete. A bunch of cheerleaders in a passing car pointed at her, but she didn't care. Thanks to the accident, they'd had to take detours to avoid patrolling cops. She skulked over to the benches near the main entrance and plopped down on one, staring down at the flattened gum on the sidewalk. "Why isn't anything working out tonight?"

Gary sat down next to her, cramming his hands in his pockets. His presence made her feel warmer in the dark. He lowered his voice. "We could bum a ride off someone. See any of your friends here? I don't know anyone, so it's up to you."

The last occupied car was pulling out of the parking lot. A rusty maroon one was parked nearby, but nobody was in it.

"Nope. We're screwed." A gust of wind blew over her, reminding her how cool the night would get. She remembered the website for _Your Transport Service._ "We'll have to wait until tomorrow to do anything. The dial-a-ride place shuts down at nine."

Gary pulled himself up from the bench. "Hey, I know a spot behind a strip mall where there's a shed we can sleep in for the night. It's about a mile from here."

Janelle shivered. The thought of being on the streets all night weighed down on her, but the only other option was to return to her dad and find out what being a hurricane felt like. She stood and clenched her teeth. How could her dad go along with some Elder Council and make this demand on her? "Let's go."

"Janelle? Waiting for your folks to pick you up?"

Mr. Deville strode towards them, his whistle bouncing on his gray shirt. Somehow, he was a welcome sight.

"Um..." she began, fumbling for an excuse.

"Great game, huh?" Her teacher leaned against the brick of the building. "We've been waiting to spank the Cougars for years."

"Yeah. It was," she said. Something about Mr. Deville made her feel a little better. Maybe it was the fact that he'd turned Andrina away in the office.

"It's getting awfully late," he said, surveying the lot. "You two have a ride home?"

Gary looked to Janelle and nodded. They had one last shot, and she'd better try for it. It was all up to her.

"I...I'm supposed to meet my dad so we can leave for the Bahamas tonight, but I missed the dial-a-ride that was supposed to pick us up," she said, letting her voice wobble a little. "He just flew in from a business trip so he's waiting at the airport for me. If he drives out here to pick me up, we'll miss our flight and have to cancel our trip."

Mr. Deville rubbed his chin. "There's got to be a bus or something you can take. And who's this?" He gestured to Gary, but his tone was still as friendly as ever.

Crap. "My cousin, Gary. He's going with us."

Her teacher took a long look at him. Way too long. He could probably see right through her lie. She and Gary didn't share a single trait--except for--no, they couldn't show him their Tempest marks.

Her teacher nodded. "Come on in here, and we'll see if there're any services that can get you to where you need to go. I'll grab the phone book from the office. Sounds like an important trip that you don't want to miss." He produced a shiny key ring and went to unlock the main door as the sound of an approaching motor floated down the street.

Mr. Deville froze in place, mouth falling open. His expression hardened in an instant. "In. Quick. Somebody's coming." He waved them inside. "I want you to stay out of sight."

"What's—" she asked.

Mr. Deville pulled on Janelle's other arm with a grip like iron. "Now, Janelle. I know the sound of that motor. It's that woman who was looking for you today. They're coming to talk to me. I'll put you in a classroom 'til they leave."

She didn't resist and burst in through the doors, running beside Gary and her teacher. "You know her?"

"Yes." He pulled out his keys as he ran. "We'll talk later. Lay low." He unlocked a classroom and waved them inside.

Gary dove into the classroom with huge eyes, silently begging her to follow. She did, ducking out of the glaring light of the hallway.

Mr. Deville shut them in just as the squeak of the main doors opening floated down the hall. A set of high heels tapped closer. A few other pairs of footsteps joined it.

It was her. Andrina. The monster. She was coming to talk to Mr. Deville. It could mean only one thing.

"Is Mr. Deville a Tempest, too?" she whispered.

Gary shrugged. "He must be."

Janelle exchanged a look of horror with Gary in the near darkness. The cold metal of the filing cabinet soaked in through the back of her shirt as she trembled in place. Had Andrina spotted them running into the school? She eyed the windows for an escape route. They could break them if they had to. Things were going to get bad fast.

"Hello, Hank." Andrina's loud voice boomed through the hallway, sharp and cold as a razor blade. "How is your evening? Is the school cleared out?"

"Yes, Ma'am. The last football players just left. The janitor's down at the bus garage, but she might come back any minute."

Janelle's bladder felt ready to let go. Standing just feet away was the infamous Andrina in the form of a human. Maybe Joey and Ivanna and Curtis had joined her.

"If I can say something really quick—" a young man started.

Andrina made a _tsk_ sound. Her voice grew lower and more threatening with each word. "Look at where you are, Hank. You ought to strive for something greater than coaching high school football and teaching those human kids, with your mother here in the Elder Council. But maybe I shouldn't expect too much out of you, after you leveled a few towns and started a relief fund for your _own victims_. Don't you realize that those people would kill us soon as they had the chance? What a shame for a Tempest with the blood of Camellia in his veins."

Janelle let out a breath. At least Mr. Deville wasn't one of the really bad Tempests.

"Hey, I tried with him." An old woman's voice rang out just outside the door.

Mr. Deville sighed. "Not now, mother."

A spark of sympathy for her teacher came to the surface, but got drowned out in roar of her pulse a second later.

Andrina spoke again, voice level. "Anyway, I'm paying all known Tempests in the area a visit tonight. I'm offering a reward for the capture of a certain individual—the Janelle I was searching patiently for earlier today. She still hasn't turned up, and I have no idea what her last name has been changed to, so if you come across that information, I would greatly appreciate it. Camellia, the official statement, please."

The old woman—Mr. Deville's mother—cleared her throat. "Janelle, age sixteen and last name unknown, is currently wanted by Tempest High Leader Andrina L. Morgen. If found or sighted, she is to remain unharmed and brought directly to Andrina or the Elder Council. A substantial reward will be offered to whoever delivers her to Alara. Janelle stands at five feet tall with blond hair and a slim build. She may be accompanied by Gary Plankett, also age sixteen, who is considered a fugitive and for whom a reward is also being offered."

Janelle cringed and tapped her fingers on her jeans. Would Mr. Deville go for the reward—a _double_ reward? Teachers got paid peanuts. If the door opened, she could run for the window across the room and break it open with a chair, and then they could make a run for the woods.

"And we need her by the end of next week at the latest," Andrina added. "Her name is up on the list next. Operation Reckoning will not wait."

_Next._ The word wormed its way inside her.

"Operation Reckoning?" Mr. Deville echoed. "You can't be saying—"

"Yes. Janelle's the one with enough power in her to pull it off." Andrina sounded as if she were showing off a new car. "I've been waiting years for this. We need to show the world who's boss. It's our best chance for survival."

"You're saying she's more powerful than either of us? We're the two strongest Tempests on this side of the world." Camellia sounded surprised. "Who are her parents?"

"Do not question me, Camellia."

_More powerful._ It didn't make any sense. Her?

"Ma'am, if I can have a word. It's important." The voice of the young man cut in again.

" _What,_ Kevin?"

"I saw two kids running into the building with Hank before I pulled into the parking lot. It might have just been a couple of humans, but it doesn't hurt to check the premises."

Gary took her arm and tugged her towards the window, eyes huge in the darkness. They matched the panic exploding inside her.

Janelle raced after him. And caught her foot on a table leg, which sent her sprawling to the floor.

Pain surged through her elbow. The table toppled behind her with a deafening crash.

The door flew open with a loud bang. High heels tapped closer. A hand seized the back of Janelle's shirt and yanked her to her feet, spinning her around.

Her gaze landed on a group standing in the doorway: Mr. Deville, the young man in sunglasses—Kevin—and an old woman with loose skin and curly gray hair.

Janelle tensed, ready to right, but a hand grabbed her chin and turned her head to the side.

Andrina's sharp face stared into her own, triumphant. "Hello, Janelle."

### Chapter Nine

A cry of revulsion rose up in Janelle's throat. She struggled to yank her wrist from the monster's grip, but her strength matched her own.

This monster had taken eight hundred lives. Purposely.

Andrina's shark grin grew wider. She'd won, already. Now, Janelle was trapped in the grip of someone far worse than her father ever could have been. It had been a mistake to leave. She wanted to go back to him, and now, even if he took her straight to the ocean. Better his company than Andrina's. "So you must have heard me. All Tempests are born with different natural potentials, and you've got great power in you, Janelle. You're going to make history, like me. But I doubt your father's raised you with proper Tempest pride. He wants us to live our lives apologizing for what we are." She glared over at Mr. Deville and then at Gary, who'd frozen near the window. "There are so many disappointments in our world, but I know you will not be one of them."

Heart racing, Janelle thrashed against her grip. There was a mistake. Those words weren't about her. "I'm not like that."

"But you are," Andrina said. "I'll help you bring out that power. You may be the one to save us."

Mr. Deville voice quavered as he spoke. "You can't use this girl for Operation Reckoning. The guilt would kill her. I won't stand for this."

Andrina faced him, her words rolling like crashing waves. "Do not argue with me."

Janelle took the distraction. She ducked, breaking her grasp. The classroom tilted around her.

Andrina's other hand shot out and caught her wrist, stopping her cold. Now her voice dripped with sugar, but there was still a blade underneath, waiting to come out and slice at any second. "Janelle, listen to me. I have your best interests at heart. You might be scared now, but your fear is misdirected. The world is changing, and we need to--"

Gary's fist swung at the side of Andrina's face. There was a clunk as her teeth clamped together. With a jolt, she let go of Janelle's wrist and staggered back, holding her other hand to her cheek. Janelle caught her balance as Kevin rushed over to catch his leader.

Gary took her place, fists balled and nodding at some chairs nearby. "Now!"

Janelle raced for them. She lifted a chair in front of her to use as a shield. To the side, Mr. Deville rushed to do the same thing. The three of them had to fight. It was the only way out of here.

Janelle had never fought anyone in her life. Well, she'd slapped a boy in kindergarten for throwing Leslie's lunch on the ground, but that was it.

Still, she had to try. If she was as powerful as they said she was, they might have a chance.

Footfalls sounded as someone raced for her. She whirled around, chair held high and mind blank.

"Umph!" Kevin collided with it so hard that his sunglasses bounced on his face. He hadn't been expecting this.

Shock ran up her arms, bending her elbows. Janelle flew back into a table. Pain surged through her back. Yellow spots danced in front of her eyes. Kevin was still rushing at her, clawing his way around the chair, but somehow, she found the strength to shove the chair back into him. He flew back, hitting the file cabinet with a bang.

She'd pushed back a guy twice her size. But there was no time to marvel.

"Run, Janelle!" Mr. Deville leapt in front of Andrina, pushing her into a desk.

Camellia left the doorway and ran at her son, waving her arms. "Hank! Knock it off!"

The door was open. Her teacher had given her an escape.

But she wasn't leaving without Gary.

Andrina held Mr. Deville up against the wall by the cuff of his shirt. Camellia waved her arms at her boss. "My son! You're hurting him!"

A breeze snapped through the room, blowing papers everywhere. Camellia moved out of the way, revealing the worst: Kevin had Gary in a headlock. Gary kicked his feet and gasped for air as his face turned a purple color. Gary's breaths grew more ragged by the second. They'd kill him if she didn't move.

"Hey!" Janelle shouted. She wasn't even sure what she was doing.

It was as if someone had hit the pause button. Kevin peeked over his sunglasses. Camellia whirled around. Andrina glared in her direction, the gray in her eyes swirling. If Gary's had been terrifying, hers were worse.

The sight stopped her in her tracks, paralyzing her.

Andrina's knuckles grew big around Mr. Deville's shirt. "Camellia, restrain her."

The old woman shook her head, her own gray eyes almost as scary. "Not until you release Hank."

The sound of Gary's breaths seemed to have stopped. The cord of desperation tugged again as Andrina shoved her teacher back into the window. She had seconds before that monster captured her again.

Janelle seized a chair and lifted it over her shoulder. It felt light as cardboard, but it could do major damage if she threw it. Kevin froze, staring at her from behind his sunglasses. His mouth fell open. Gary sagged in the headlock. Was he passing out? She had to act fast.

"Let go of him." She sounded more confident now. Maybe all of them could escape.

Kevin's grip on Gary loosened, and he sucked in a breath and elbowed Kevin in the ribs. Gary broke free and joined her at the door, gasping for air as Mr. Deville peeled himself from the window. Camellia and Andrina stood frozen near the desk to watch.

"You can only hit one of us, sweetie," Andrina said, smiling and ignoring the fact that Kevin was doubled over, grasping his ribs. Her lack of concern melted the confidence building inside her. She was right. "And frankly, that's not going to do a lot of damage."

"Janelle, come on," Gary said.

Mr. Deville barreled past her, shoving her aside. "Go!" he ordered, ramming into her.

Janelle dropped the chair and ran, too. Something fell from her pocket and clattered to the floor, but she couldn't stop. The only thing that mattered right now was getting away from the Tempest High Leader and whatever plan she had for her.

Mr. Deville pulled out his keys as he slammed into the double doors, sending them flying open so hard they banged against the building. The maroon car waited in the parking lot. It didn't seem so crappy anymore. It was their ride out of here.

High heels hit the floor behind her, loud and desperate. "Janelle!"

She stole a glance back. Andrina ran after them, teeth bared. She'd reach them before Mr. Deville got the door unlocked.

Janelle stopped, gaze darting around for anything she could use to slow her down.

"What are you doing?" Gary's voice rang in her ears as his shoes squeaked to a stop.

"Go! Get the car started!"

He didn't. A fire extinguisher hung from the wall nearby. She took it and pulled out the pin, aiming the nozzle at Andrina. What was she doing? This couldn't possibly work.

But the Tempest High Leader slid to a stop two feet away, rage melting from her face as her jaw dropped open. Her arms flew up in front of her as Janelle pulled the trigger. A white spray erupted from the nozzle, showering Andrina. She let out a scream, a human scream with no trace of growling wind or crashing waves. The sound pulled at her chest. For a moment Janelle wanted to stop—was she hurting her? No. This was Andrina, killer of hundreds. Janelle was doing the right thing.

Andrina stumbled to the floor under the spray. The foam sputtered to a stop, leaving the Tempest High Leader covered and shivering in fizz.

Janelle dropped the empty extinguisher to the floor. It rolled over to the wall with a metallic plink.

"Come on!" Gary shouted.

Janelle ducked out of the door he was holding open. The headlights shined at her like a pair of eyes and the engine rumbled, pleading with her to hurry. No arguments there. She yanked the door open and dove into the backseat.

"Janelle! You're betraying your people!"

Andrina stood by the exit door, the contents of the extinguisher covering her body like a foamy parka. Baring her teeth again, she raised both palms.

Janelle clawed at her jeans, bracing for the storm in the parking lot. "Go. Please!"

A faint breeze whistled through the air...and died.

Mr. Deville stared on as Andrina let loose a cry of frustration and waved her hands again. Papers blew across the parking lot, but they stopped after a few feet, as if too exhausted to go on.

"I said go!" Janelle shouted. She didn't have time to care that she sounded bossy.

"I agree," Gary said, snapping on his seat belt.

Mr. Deville switched gears—finally. "Hang on tight!"

Andrina ran towards the car, shaking off foam and raining clumps of it everywhere. She'd reach them in two seconds.

Janelle pushed the lock down. "Exit!"

The Tempest High Leader reached the door and tugged on it, face contorting with frustration, but it refused to budge. The car sped forward with a squeal, breaking her grip and leaving her in the middle of the parking lot.

* * * * *

"Mr. Deville. Thanks." Janelle sank into her seat several minutes later. Breathe, she had to remember to breathe again. "I didn't mean to sound so horrible."

Her teacher turned onto a freeway entrance ramp. "Sorry that happened back there. I had no idea she'd show up again."

"That wasn't your fault," Gary said, massaging his neck. It was still red from Kevin's headlock.

The turn signal clicked off as her teacher merged onto the freeway, joining a river of red taillights flowing into the darkness. "I think it's safe to say we lost them. But we've got to keep moving. I'll go ahead and take you to the airport. Orlando, right?" He stopped talking for a moment to let Gary nod. "I'm sure she's alerted every Tempest in the area that you're on the run, Janelle. She'll probably even have a story about you printed tomorrow in _Surge."_

" _Surge_?" she asked. Things were looking better and better.

Mr. Deville turned to look at her for a second, as if unable to believe that she didn't know what it was. "I suppose your parents haven't told you much. That happens sometimes." He put his attention back on the road. "It's the Tempest newsletter."

"How did Andrina seem to lose her power back there? She couldn't even open my door."

Mr. Deville rolled down a window, letting the cool night air blast in. "That stuff on her must have been freezing. Anything cold takes a Tempest's power away, even if they're near the ocean. It's only temporary, so don't get comfortable. But it might be good for you to know."

"Why didn't you kill her while you had the chance?" Gary sagged in his chair, letting go of his neck.

"Kill her? I'm not like that." Gary was honest, but did he have to be so blunt? "I know I'm supposed to be this natural born murderer, but—"

"At least her rule would have ended," Mr. Deville said. "If she dies, maybe a Tempest with some morals could take her place. She has no heir, so I'm not sure who the Elder Council would choose." He let out a breath and relaxed his grip. "My family's got no room to talk, though. My mother took about five hundred lives when she changed in nineteen-fifty-nine and ripped through the Caribbean, and she doesn't even care. At least, I don't think she does. You've heard of Hurricane Camellia, right? Before Andrina, that was the storm everybody talked about. It's not an easy fact to live with." His words sounded as heavy as bricks.

"That...that's awful." Janelle leaned back again and closed her eyes. Compared to that, her dad seemed human. Ordinary.

Maybe she shouldn't have left home after all. What if she'd made a mistake?

"So when did you find out about Tempests?" Mr. Deville asked.

Her teacher's voice forced her out of her thoughts. "Today. Gary told me."

"That's more of a notice than what I got. I found out what I was right after my mother sneaked up behind me and pushed me off the boat. I thought it was a fishing trip. I was twenty-one at the time. Though I did always wonder why she never let me try out for wrestling."

"What's Operation Reckoning?"

After a long, tense moment, Mr. Deville asked, "Where do you want me take you?"

"You didn't answer my question. What is it? I think I ought to know since I'm the one needed for it."

He stole a look back at her. "You've had enough bad news today, and you don't need any more. I suggest you work on staying away from Andrina so that you never have to find out."

### Chapter Ten

Traffic thinned as they headed out of town. "You do realize why your dad's taking you to the Bahamas?" Mr. Deville asked. His tone was gentle, careful. "I'm assuming that you do."

Gary shot her a warning glance.

"Yes." It was the truth, and it made a sick feeling swell inside of her. Janelle decided she had better pretend she was going along with the Natural Law. If Mr. Deville found out she was running away...well, her dad would be happy to get her back.

"I knew you were a Tempest when you told me about your house not taking any damage," Mr. Deville said. "That, and you mentioned your Bahamas vacation when you got your homework from me. Your name's also on the list this year, so it was pretty easy to make the connection."

"Oh," Janelle said. She wanted to retract to some tiny point inside herself and hide.

Her teacher glanced in the mirror at her. "Janelle, are you scared?"

"Yes." There was no point in lying about that one.

Her teacher stole a glance back at her. "This is why a lot of Tempests keep this secret from their kids until it's time. It saves a lot of emotional upset."

A question had been burning inside her for some time now, stamped there by her father's desperate pleas for her to come back. "Do you die or something if you don't change when it's your time?" She had to know, to make sure she wasn't making some horrible mistake by running. But if his answer was a yes, could she really turn back and let her dad take her to the ocean?

Even Gary looked up at her question.

"Some Tempests have delayed going in the past. One guy fled to Alaska for three weeks when it was his time. Then a woman locked herself in her basement back in the seventies when her name came up. Neither of them got hurt, but something weird happened. No other Tempests could transform when they jumped--or got pushed--in the water. It was as if the entire cycle got locked up. Of course, it all went back to normal when those two finally gave in."

"Really?" Gary asked. He shot a glance back at Janelle. "Andrina never told me that. Of course, I never really wanted to talk to her."

Janelle straightened up in her seat. "Oh. I didn't know that."

If Mr. Deville was right, could she save other Tempests from this fate by running? Could she stop Andrina from using someone else for Operation Reckoning, whatever it was?

She had to try.

Gary gave her another look. His hazel eyes were wide with hope. They spoke volumes. _We'll figure something out,_ they said.

Mr. Deville interrupted her thoughts. "Do you have a phone on you? You should call your dad to let him know you're safe."

Janelle reached into her pocket. She could pretend to call him and her teacher wouldn't know the difference.

Her hand closed on the wad of bills and the picture of her mom, but nothing else.

Gulping, Janelle searched her pockets again and lifted herself off the seat to make sure she hadn't sat on it. Nope. It wasn't under the copy of _Surge_ or on the floor. And she hadn't left it at home—she'd shoved it in her pocket. It had probably gotten lost—or crushed with her luck—during the accident. Now she'd have to find a pay phone to call Leslie, if they even made those things anymore.

"It's gone. My phone, I mean." Janelle let out a long sigh, leaning back onto the seat. "Just my luck."

"You can just meet your dad at the airport and let him know you lost it. I'm sure he'll count running into Andrina as a good excuse." Mr. Deville braked behind a slow-moving Cadillac. "I hope it wasn't one of those real expensive ones that brushes your teeth and keeps your appointments for you."

"It was. Birthday present," Janelle said.

The Orlando airport dwarfed the one in Flint, hands down. But maybe that was good. That meant it had to have a flight back to Michigan, and soon. And there'd be plenty of room to blend in if someone came hunting for them.

Mr. Deville got out of the car and started to make his way across the lot. "I'll come in with you in case Andrina's sent anyone this way. She has lots of connections, probably more than even the Elder Council knows. They're sure to check the airports."

"Thanks," Janelle said, though she really wanted to curse. She shot a glance at Gary. He grimaced at her. Her teacher would discover their half-truth in minutes.

She followed him past rows of cars, under lights, and into the enormous terminal building. People jostled past them. The scents of coffee and leather luggage filled the air. Her teacher waved them through crowds of sleepy midnight fliers and to a large glowing billboard that listed all the flights for the next several hours.

Gary tapped Janelle's arm and pointed to one near the top. A flight would be leaving for Flint, Michigan in fifteen minutes.

Janelle shook her head. No way they'd buy tickets and get through airport security in time. But one farther down listed another flight to Flint at seven. That one would have to work.

"Ah! This must be the one your father's bought tickets for." Mr. Deville tapped the screen. Just two slots above the second Flint flight, green text read _Nassau, Bahamas. 4:45 a.m on time._

Janelle's stomach turned. "That's probably it," she said, mouth dry. Had she stayed home, her dad would've booked that flight.

"He might be waiting around here somewhere." Her teacher surveyed the room. "Probably by the gate. Let's go and we'll check for him."

"Maybe we should split up," Gary said. "He could be hanging out anywhere. We'll go check by the snack bars. That's where I'd rather sit and wait for someone."

Mr. Deville rubbed a hand over his thin hair. "You sure? What if you run into trouble?"

Janelle looked around at the other travelers. Men in business suits strolled past with cups of coffee. A woman sat back in a chair, snoring. Not dangerous. "Do Tempests still have their powers this far from the coast? And couldn't we yell for security?"

"They're nowhere near as strong here." Mr. Deville studied a nearby café. "You're right. We ought to split up, but meet me right back here in half an hour, no later. What does your dad look like?"

Janelle told him, keeping her description as vague as she could. Mr. Deville nodded and headed for the gates. He vanished around a corner and didn't return.

"Dumb idea, Janelle. We should've given him a false description," Gary said, letting his hands slap on his jeans. "What if your dad really is here? It's totally possible he'd expect you to get a flight."

Janelle sighed. "You're a jerk. You know that?" A right jerk, but still a jerk. "And besides, I'm a terrible liar. He'd see through that."

"You'd be a jerk, too, if someone made you kill people two weeks ago."

"Well, your guardian wants to turn me into the worst hurricane ever. So I think I win."

Gary shut up. He couldn't argue with that, could he? But his gaze flicked over to the ticket counter and back to her. Like something was way wrong. "Speaking of her--"

He leapt at her and grabbed her hand, dodging behind the billboard like someone was shooting at them.

"What—" she started.

Gary locked his fingers inside of hers. "Shhh!"

A tingle ran up Janelle's arm, but stopped cold. A woman in a gray business suit stood at the ticket counter with a young guy in sunglasses. It was Andrina and Kevin. Somehow, they had figured out which airport to come to.

"Okay," she said in a squeaky voice, squashing up against Gary.

The glowing board blocked the Tempest High Leader from view. How? Had they been followed? Andrina might have figured out they were headed to an airport and made a lucky guess.

Seconds passed. Gary's breath blew against the side of her neck as he whispered in her ear. "She's gonna kill me for punching her. See what they're doing. You're closer."

Janelle held her breath and leaned past the edge of the board as slow as she could.

Kevin left the counter, a plane ticket in his hands. He stared down at a small black object Andrina held out to him as she pointed him down the hall like a mother sending a kid to his room. Kevin bolted for the gates.

"Kevin's going to catch a flight. Andrina's still out there," she said, the muscles in her legs tight and ready to move. Her chest grew tight at the thought of losing Gary.

Andrina turned slowly in a circle, taking in the plaza as if she could smell them nearby. Like a shark ready to ram its prey.

Janelle pulled back, wishing she were back with her father, no matter what the cost. The second she heard those high heels, she'd book and scream for security at the top of her lungs. It was the best chance she had. Then, she'd call her dad and apologize. If she didn't, his last memories of her would be tonight's, or worse--on television in her other form that she dared not think about.

But the footfalls never came. A minute later, a gray blur moved past them and down the main hall.

Janelle let out a long breath and made a mental note to herself not to go near the front of the airport. "How'd she know we were coming here?"

Gary shrugged, peeling himself from the board. The color slowly returned to his face. "Well, this is the most likely airport we'd go to. We've got to hide somewhere before she comes back."

"Good point. Also, I'm wondering if I should go and call--" Janelle made for the stores, but stopped.

Gary still held her hand. Tight.

He released it and swallowed, red replacing the paleness of his face. Gary turned away and waved her to the closest souvenir shop, where racks of T-shirts waited inside.

She dodged between souvenirs and magazines, making her way as far back as she could. Janelle's hand was tingling, and this time, it couldn't possibly have anything to do with the ocean.

"Man, that was close," Gary said, looking away. His cheeks were red. "We need to get a flight out of here. Now. It doesn't matter where to."

"Good idea." They couldn't stand in here for the next six hours. "Let's buy new clothes and get changed. It'll help throw Andrina off when we're out there. It'll be safer to get our tickets after that."

Gary nodded, mute. He seemed lost in an ocean of his own thoughts. Now, however, wasn't the time to ask about it. Until they were on a plane, any conversation about what he was feeling would have to wait.

Janelle sifted through the shirts, searching for one that wasn't gray like Gary's. At last she settled on a red tee that read _Florida_ across the front. "Here."

Gary seemed to surface as he held up the shirt and grimaced. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"What? Oh. Sorry." The apology fell on its face. She went through the shirts again, trying to salvage the situation. "But they all say 'Florida' on them."

"I guess you have a point." Gary let the red bundle hang against his side in defeat. "It's a 'Florida' shirt, then."

Janelle picked out a pink shirt and cap. She couldn't blow this now. "I'll suffer too. I hate pink."

Gary gave her a small smile, but it might as well have been a full-fledged grin with the warmth it made her feel.

After paying, she and Gary bolted down to the bathrooms to get changed. Janelle pulled the pink shirt on over her old one and wrestled her hair back into a messy ponytail and pulled it through the back of the pink hat. The girl staring back looked like a middle school student, not a high school Honor Society member, and it didn't even bother her. Now, to go out, get a ticket, and get as far from the ocean as she could.

If Mr. Deville was right and no other Tempests could change until she did, that made dozens of hurricanes that couldn't slam into coastal cities or slaughter hundreds.

There could be no more Andrinas or Kevins or Camellias.

Countless people would be spared if she ran away and found a way to keep her distance from the ocean.

She had every reason _not_ to transform.

Gary waited over by a drink machine, pressing himself against the wall. She almost hadn't recognized him in the red shirt. "Now let's lay low 'til our flight leaves."

"Janelle!" someone called from behind them.

She froze, Gary with her, and whirled around.

Mr. Deville ran towards them, stomach bouncing up and down. Alongside him came a man with glasses and wavy brown hair.

Her father had also come for her at the airport.

### Chapter Eleven

"Janelle!" Her father cut in front of Mr. Deville, eyes huge and relieved.

Her father pulled her into a hug, and Janelle returned it. "Dad." His warmth enveloped her. It was safe, secure, a break from the nightmare that had closed in around her since Gary had revealed the truth hours ago.

But then she remembered.

Now her plans to save thousands of people were shot. She would probably become a killer after all.

"Oh, honey. I didn't mean to scare you earlier." He hugged her tighter as his hair tickled her cheek. "I knew you'd probably come here, since this is the closest major airport. The neighbor guy drove me. I was so worried that you got on that 1 a.m. flight to Flint. I saw Kevin running to that one."

Janelle pulled herself out of the hug and caught her breath. Flint? Kevin? "He must have thought we were going to be on that plane." At least they hadn't boarded that flight. They almost had. She hoped Kevin was sitting there now, moping. At least they'd be rid of him for a while.

"Andrina might have sent him there to intercept you in case you go that way. She might be here somewhere," her father continued.

"She is," Gary said. He stood there, hands at his sides.

Her father swore and hugged her tighter.

But how had she known they were going to head to Flint? The horror of it crept under her skin. There was no way Andrina could have figured out that much. Was she somehow spying on them right now? The airport was one thing, but Flint was another.

An idea struck her. It might be a way out of everything. "We've got to go home or get away from here as soon as we can. And I left all my stuff at the house." Shifting leg to leg, she shot her dad a pleading glance, one that she hoped communicated everything she felt. "I'm tired and hungry and I've got a headache. I'm sorry about running away. Really, I am." All the guilt over that and the truck crashed down. It was too much to take. "I just want to get home."

Her father ran his hand through his hair and faced her teacher. "That's too dangerous. We've all got to get to the Bahamas. There's a flight there soon, right?"

"Not that I'm aware." Gary stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual, but the lie wouldn't work. It fell to the floor, flopping and dying.

Mr. Deville glared at him, the realization coming over his features. "There's one at quarter to five, if I remember correctly."

Her dad looked up and down the room, brushing his hand through his hair as he faced her teacher. "Hank, you can't stay here either after crossing her. Gary, I'm having a talk with you later. Now we stay together. Come on."

Her father knew Mr. Deville?

Her father took her arm and wouldn't let go as he paid for tickets, took them through security, and to the waiting area for the Bahamas flight. Mr. Deville breathed down Gary's back the whole time. Janelle struggled to find something smart or sarcastic to say, but nothing came out. Why did her dad go along with this Natural Law when he knew that her escape would stop these deadly forces of nature and save thousands of lives? In the end, she could only manage a plea. "Please, Dad. Don't make me do this."

He shushed her as if she'd woken from a nightmare, speaking low enough so that the people seated nearby couldn't hear. "It's okay. Trust me. You only have to change once and life goes back to normal. You'll graduate high school, go to college, and be a great doctor. This will _not_ stop you from that." They reached the waiting area and sat.

"But I don't want to kill people." Janelle shot a look at Gary as she sat next to her father, but he stared down at the floor as he took a seat. He was giving up hope.

Her father said nothing to that. He looked away, because he knew that was what she was going to do.

She tried prying her arm from her dad's grip. It didn't budge. He only pressed it harder against the armrest. She was going to the Bahamas whether she wanted to or not. And then--

_Think, Janelle_. She wasn't doomed yet, and wouldn't be until she got on the boat. That was hours from now. Why couldn't her mother still be here? If her mother was in fact human, she might have helped her out of the situation.

Mr. Deville elbowed her father, grinning. "It's a shame you had to cut off contact with us for so long, Lucas. I would have liked to know I had a niece before today."

Janelle stared right into her teacher's smiling face, a jolt running through her. "Huh?"

Her father pointed to him with his free hand. "This is my little brother. You know, the one I haven't talked to in years and years?"

"Only I'm not so little," Mr. Deville said, patting his stomach.

Janelle struggled to process the words. "But why?" she asked. "Why didn't you guys talk for so long?" They didn't seem to hate each other. It was quite the opposite.

Her father looked far away into some void, lost. "When you were born, Andrina was starting to...go bad. I knew she'd want to take you and train you to be a monster, like her. It's what she's doing to Tempest kids now. We had to go into hiding, and to keep you safe, I needed to cut off all ties. I even changed our last names from Deville to Duvall." A smile crept back onto his face. "But thanks to you, I've found my brother after fourteen years. I don't care about the truck after that. It was worth it."

Thunderstruck, Janelle looked between the two men. Her teacher...her dad's little brother? They didn't look much alike, except for their thin eyebrows, maybe. And their eyes, which had the exact same gray shade. "You moved us away from Florida because of that? But you always told me we moved to Michigan so Mom could take care of her parents." What else hadn't he told her yet? "Why is Andrina so...you know? Evil?"

Her father sighed as his gaze sunk to the carpet. An invisible mountain had come down on top of him. Had she asked the wrong question? "She wasn't always like that, Janelle. At least, not on the outside. Maybe she hid her anger and fear until she took the role as Tempest High Leader. We were fooled. I was, and it cost me."

A long, heavy silence followed. Her dad put his face in his free hand. She'd forgotten about the fact that he still had her arm pinned with the other.

"Was Mom a Tempest?"

"Tina was human," he said without hesitation. "I miss her so much."

Her teacher—or uncle—spoke up. "I didn't know—"

"Yes. It's a shame I never got to introduce her to the family."

Janelle clutched her dolphin necklace with her free hand. Her mom wasn't a killer. She hadn't deserved to die that winter night. She squeezed the armrest tighter as the injustice of the world pulsed through her. Her mother had died way too soon, while Andrina and Kevin and Camellia--

No!

Mr. Deville was Camellia's son, and her dad was his brother.

She had to ask before someone came along, and they couldn't talk anymore. "Is Camellia my grandmother? Please say no."

Gary lifted his head, eyes almost popping out of his face. Mr. Deville blanched, gripping the armrests of his chair. That pretty much answered her question.

Her father swallowed. "Yes."

_Sorry_ , Gary mouthed to her.

"Hank told me about what happened at the school, but I'm sure she had no idea who you are. She mentioned that she didn't know who your parents were, right?" her dad asked, apologetic.

Janelle nodded. All the horrible things her teacher had said about her swirled in her head, finally gathering in her stomach and threatening to bring up her dinner. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"I haven't had contact with her in years, either. But when you get back home, I'll have her give you a big apology."

"Who said I wanted anything to do with her?" Janelle buried her face in the crook of her arm. She couldn't take any more news like this.

"Janelle, she's nowhere near what Andrina is," Gary said, his tone uncertain.

"She's not all bad, Janelle." Her father patted her on the back. "She might not be the nicest of us, but she's not the worst, either. Your grandmother did a decent job raising us. And she will feel bad once she finds out who you really are."

Her throat locked up. Good mother or not, she had still murdered hundreds. Did she regret it at all? Did it bother her at night as she drifted off to sleep?

Her father shifted in his chair to face his brother. "That's why Andrina's after her. Janelle must have inherited Mom's power."

His words came down on her like a life sentence, but before she could react, a woman near the gate opened the door and announced that the flight had started to board. Her father stood, pulling Janelle to her feet.

A woman called out from behind them. "Oh, _Lucas."_

Uh, oh. Not again.

Her father whirled around, releasing Janelle.

She took a step to run but stopped cold. Andrina stood ten feet away, hands folded over her chest. Fury churned in her eyes as she stared at her father. "Come here."

"Janelle, go," he said. "They won't let her on the plane."

Janelle found herself unable to move. The plane--and Gary--waited behind her. Her transformation was waiting there, too, on the other side of that flight. Escape might wait down that hallway and past Andrina, but the _might_ was too risky.

Andrina walked closer, taking each step slow. She gave a friendly smile, but it was a deception. "Hello again, Janelle." She turned to her father, tone darkening. "I can't believe you thought you could hide her from me for so long. I have every right to--"

"Stay away from Janelle." Her father's voice took on a trace of a growl.

Janelle flinched. She was seeing another part of him for the first time.

Silence. Andrina stared right at her, gray eyes boring right into her soul. The corner of her mouth twitched. Like she wanted to say something that she'd held in for a hundred years. Something crushing.

A prickle raced across Janelle's skin. She couldn't risk running. "Come on, Dad." Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she pulled on his sleeve. "I'll go."

The ticket woman looked from Andrina to her father and back again. "Please, sir. The plane can't wait for you. And if you don't have a ticket, ma'am, I'll have to call security."

The friendly face dropped away as Andrina's eyes seemed to darken to a more ominous gray. "Fine," she snapped, storming back towards the hallway. Pulling a phone from her pocket, she crossed the room and vanished into the thickening crowd of travelers.

* * * * *

"How come she gave up so easy?" Janelle sat near the window and watched her father take the aisle seat, blocking her in. At the moment, she didn't care. At least she was away from Operation Reckoning.

"What happened?" Gary asked from across the aisle.

Janelle twisted in her seat to answer him, but her dad interrupted, keeping his voice down to a mumble she could barely understand. "She's not stupid, Janelle. An airport's the worst place to cause trouble, even for our kind. There's no way she could've fended off all the security. They shot a guy one time for trying to run onto a flight he wasn't supposed to be on."

"If she's not stupid, how come she came after me at the school? She has to know only your parents can pick you up from there."

"Good point," said Gary, leaning forward in his seat.

Her father started to wipe off his glasses. The wall of silence had gone back up, and with the vacationers filling the seats around them, she couldn't tear it down anytime soon. They wouldn't be able to talk much on the flight about any more Tempest business.

"I didn't say she was done coming after us. She has money and contacts. That includes a private jet." Her father twisted his fingers around each other.

The plane took off. Gravity pushed Janelle back into her seat. Houses and car headlights grew smaller below her. She stifled back a cry as she remembered what was waiting for her at their destination. When they landed, they'd be in the Bahamas and she'd be mere hours—or minutes—from her transformation.

Gary started to snore after fifteen minutes. The exhaustion had finally claimed him, and there was nothing he could do now, anyway. Her own eyelids drooped, but she couldn't stop staring at the carpet of clouds below them as the sun rose. What did it feel like to be a hurricane, anyway? Was it anything like this, drifting miles above the earth and looking down at the land below? Her stomach turned at the thought of becoming one. She might be the next Andrina or Camellia if she was that powerful, even without Operation Reckoning.

Hot tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and threatened to start spilling out. Turning away from her father, she wiped them away on her sleeve. No. She wouldn't bawl. When the time came, she'd fight with all she had.

The clouds parted some time later, and the ocean sparkled miles below. Another tingle swept through her body at the sight of it. For a moment she imagined diving into the clear waters. Letting them sweep over her. Allowing her full power to burst free of this tiny, restrictive body and to—

No. She wasn't thinking like that.

Her father wrapped his arm around her. "It's okay. I know you're nervous."

She didn't pull away. Better him than the ocean and its pull. Minutes passed, then an hour. After a while, the hum of the airplane quieted as the pilot started to cut the power. Panic blossomed in her gut, forcing her eyes open.

The sun had come up by now. The plane descended through puffy clouds. Land—and ocean—whizzed by out the window.

Gary woke and jumped as the plane landed with a jolt. Pavement flew past outside and the sun beat into the window. They'd arrived.

Janelle's father took her arm again as they disembarked and entered the airport. Gary and Mr. Deville dragged their feet behind them, yawning.

"Lucas!" A tall, dark-skinned man weaved through the crowd with a wide smile splitting his face. He took her father's hand and shook it, slapping him on the back. "I haven't seen you in sixteen years!"

Her father turned his head to face her. "This is Deon. Deon, Janelle."

The man beamed at her, showing huge teeth. His gray spiral birthmark stood out on his left arm. "And I haven't seen you, well, ever. Your dad never had time to introduce you to anyone."

Janelle tried to shrink away and scowl at him. She had no reason to hide her anger now. She wanted them to know what this was doing to her. Wanted him to know she hated him. How many unsuspecting Tempest teenagers had he taken on fake scuba diving lessons?

Deon looked to her father, his smile vanishing. "She knows, doesn't she?"

Her dad lowered his voice. "We've got to get to the boat _now_. Andrina knows we're here. Do you have it ready?"

"Uh, oh. It's at the marina. Come on." Deon waved them through the crowd. "Sorry about the short introduction."

"That's okay," her father said, dragging her along.

Deon picked up his pace and held the doors open. Fresh air with a faint salty smell washed over Janelle. Another tingle swept through her body, and with it, a spike of panic. It was close. The ocean—and her transformation.

### Chapter Twelve

"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 your 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

A kaleidoscope of colors and sounds later, Janelle blinked the last of the drug's effects away and sucked in a huge breath. Warm tan walls boxed her in on all sides. A faint hum sounded through the air. Soft bedcovers gave way under her body. No crashing, no breeze, no screams. They were gone, left behind somewhere hours ago.

Janelle gazed up at the ceiling. A round light etched with dark veins shined down on her like a bloodshot eye. A hotel room, maybe? This didn't look familiar.

Janelle sat up and grimaced as her joints protested. She'd been here at least a few hours, then.

She was on a wide bed with black covers. A few stairs led up through a doorway and up to a hallway. More lights cast a soft glow against walls and polished cabinets. Everything about her surroundings spoke luxury. But how had she gotten here?

A dam broke somewhere in her mind, and memories came flooding back. The dock. The tornado. Her father, unable to come to her aid.

The rest had been a blur, like a dream she couldn't quite remember. She'd ridden in a vehicle with Ivanna sitting next to her. Then someone had pushed her over a railing at one point, then told her to lie here and rest.

"Dad?" She sat up as dread grabbed at her insides. It was nothing but a grab at false hope, but she couldn't help it. "Where am I?"

"Oh, I'm glad you snapped out of it. Whatever Ivanna injected you with made you really loopy for a long time. You just let Andrina kidnap you."

Gary sat on the floor, leaning up against the wall with his legs bent up. One eye had swollen shut and a purple ring had risen around it.

For a second she forgot all about herself and rushed over to examine the bruise, nearly falling off the bed. "Gary. What _happened_ to you?"

He struggled to open the swollen eye but failed. He sat up, going all tough guy. "When I tried getting you away from Andrina, she did this. Then they put you in the truck. They took me too so I couldn't help your dad get over that hole in the dock. Ivanna would have given me one of those shots too, but she used it up on your uncle. Remember that green truck that cut us off in traffic? That was Ivanna rushing to get to Deon's boat before us." He winced.

"You sure you're okay?" That bruise had to hurt. She strangled the bedsheet in her hand just thinking about it. He didn't deserve to lie there in pain like that.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. It's just a headache, Janelle. It's the least of our problems."

That was a relief—if he wasn't lying. "Where are we? A hotel?" _Please say yes,_ she thought. Anything but—

"No. They took us to another marina. We're aboard Andrina's yacht now."

Janelle shot off the bed, sucking in a breath. "We're out on the _ocean?"_

Gary rubbed his forehead, struggling to look up at her. "Yeah. But I don't think she's planning to throw you in yet. She would've done that while you were drugged. I think she wants to try some...manipulation stuff on you first."

Janelle sat down next to him, close enough to feel his body heat. It felt safe, secure for a second, and dulled out the horrible thoughts racing through her head. But the floor swayed a little underfoot and a chill swept over her. They were out to sea, all right. "She's taking us to that Alara place, isn't she?"

Gary leaned closer and whispered in her ear. His breath tickled her skin and sent shivers down her neck. "I'm sure she is. If you changed now, you'd just take your natural course instead of doing what she wants. What we do when we change is planted in us since birth. She wants to mess with that programming and _then_ throw you in. Otherwise she would've left you to your dad."

"I should have stayed home, then." Misery washed through her limbs, drowning her chest in it. She hated herself for running away. Not only had she'd blown her chance to stop other Tempests from transforming, she had blown her chance to escape Operation Reckoning as well.

"Janelle, it was partly my fault. Neither one of us knew it would turn out like this."

"I'm the one who made the decision to run." How would things have turned out if she'd stayed only a few minutes to listen to her father back at the house? Maybe he hadn't had anything bad to say after all. Then she remembered. Her father. "My dad. Is he okay?"

Gary groaned as he stood. One of his joints popped. He'd been sitting next to her bed for a long time. "She left him there on that dock. He's alive and so are the others. Andrina and Ivanna could only drag off two people."

Janelle remembered her father, standing on the other side of the dock, eyes wide and terrified like she'd never seen them. And Andrina had said something to her right before she'd lost it...No. _No!_ Bile rose in her throat. She shot off the floor and took Gary's arm. "Andrina told me--" She couldn't form the words. Had it been a hallucination? Gary would know. He always told her the truth.

Gary let out a breath and pulled her into a hug. "I heard her. I'm so sorry."

I'm so sorry.

Janelle closed her eyes and listened to Gary breathe. No. He hadn't heard her, too. He couldn't have. The whole thing didn't make any sense. Gary let go of her and she sat up. "She's not my mother. She can't be. I've got a picture of my mom. Here. I'll show you." She crammed her hand in her pocket.

Nothing.

"Are you looking for this?" a voice said from the doorway.

She whirled around and stood.

Andrina leaned against the doorway, holding up the missing photo. Her mother, smiling out from the dock. "Well, it looks like your father got himself a girlfriend after he left me."

Janelle pressed up against the wall as the room seemed to close in. _After he left me?_ What? Her dad...and Andrina? Her knees buckled and threatened to go out. "Don't touch that! That's _my_ picture."

"Leave her alone," Gary growled.

Andrina stepped through the doorway, approaching like a lion stalking its prey. "That's awful, Janelle. Your father probably kept everything a secret from you, including me. Judging from the look on your face, he told you this human woman was your mother." Her grip tightened on the photo.

"That _is_ my mother! Give that back and get out of here!"

"Really?" Andrina looked at the photo, frowning. She held it back up over Gary's shoulder. "Now who do you look like, Janelle? Tell me. You sure didn't inherit your father's looks, now did you?"

Janelle gulped. She had blonde hair and a thin frame. The mother in the picture had brown hair and a few extra pounds. Andrina had blonde hair and a thin frame--

The world closed in, suffocating. Crushing her to death. She hadn't even noticed until now, or hadn't wanted to notice.

"I said leave her alone!" Gary moved in front of her, fists balled.

Andrina ignored Gary as her fist closed on the picture. "I'll give you the truth that you deserve, Janelle," she said, lowering the photo. "Your father never told you anything about your nature, did he? He never had proper Tempest pride or sense of duty to his people. But after we married, I came to realize it was time for us to change our role in the world, and strike first. With the coastal population growing in recent years, it's only a matter of time before we're discovered. Your father didn't agree with my stance, and he grew distant from me even after we found out we were going to have a child."

A roar of panic raced through her ears. "Please. Stop. You're lying!"

The Tempest High Leader let out a breath. "I never thought his disagreement with me would result in him taking you away _the day you were born._ He took you and ran while I was lying in bed, recovering. Your father did a despicable, horrible thing. He ripped us apart, Janelle. He lied to you for sixteen years. But the Tempest High Leader can't look vulnerable, so I needed to tell the Elder Council that you had died instead. Thankfully, your name was still added to the naming list for this year, as an 'honorary' thing. I made sure of that."

Janelle's ears rang as she forced herself to face Andrina. Shudders of revulsion raced through her body. This had to be the drugs. Yes, the drugs. It wasn't real. "My dad wouldn't marry you." Her father and Andrina...she just couldn't imagine the two of them together.

"Our marriage was arranged by the Elder Council, as the High Leader's marriage often is to ensure that the family line stays powerful." Andrina took a step back. "It was ideal. Myself, and the son of Camellia. You, Janelle, are probably the most powerful Tempest alive. That's because you've inherited Camellia's power as well as mine. And rest assured, you'll get your chance to show it."

Gary crept closer to Janelle, his body a shield against the horror in front of her, but she barely noticed. A strangled cry crept out of her throat as she pressed into the wall. She wanted to disappear into it. "I don't believe you."

"I can't blame you. You've been lied to all your life. That's all your father's done to you. But soon, I'm sure you'll come around. You just need some time." She looked at the photo again. "I want you to think about something. If this woman you thought was your mother had known what you are, would she have still loved you?"

Andrina let the photo fall to the floor. Without another word, she turned and vanished into the yacht's polished interior.

* * * * *

My mother died fourteen years ago.

All Janelle could do was lie on the bed and repeat the thought to herself. It was the only thing that kept her from screaming and pounding the mattress. She had sunk into a pit so deep she might never get out again.

My mother died fourteen years ago she died she died...

Did she know what I am?

Gary got up—he hadn't moved from her side in an hour—and came back with an ice pack smashed against his bruise. "Good thing she didn't catch me getting in the freezer. She would've given me another black eye to match this one. You want to share this? You've got to have a headache by now."

"Okay." Yes, she had a headache, though she'd hardly noticed until now. Janelle sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees.

Dad only lied to keep me safe from this.

Gary pressed the ice pack up against her temple. The cold seeped in through her skin, taking the headache away.

"Thanks," she said, swallowing the hurt inside. She wanted to let Gary take away the rest of her pain for a while. The photo of her mother was still lying on the floor. Janelle wanted to get up and grab it, but...she couldn't.

_Would_ she have loved her and her father if she'd known the truth?

Somewhere up front, Andrina yelled at whoever was steering the yacht to pick up speed. Whoever had to take her wrath didn't argue.

_Was_ Andrina really her mother? That might be why she'd come to her school claiming she was a relative.

"Where's Alara?" she asked Gary to distract herself.

"Not sure." Gary put the ice pack to his own head and settled next to her, making the mattress sag. He was so close..."I know it's far away from other islands, maybe south of the Bahamas. When I stole one of Andrina's boats one time, I couldn't find any land anywhere. Her cronies caught me in less than a day. Now she keeps all the keys and nobody can take a boat without her permission." The bed creaked as he shifted weight. "Ahhh. That feels good."

The weight of her situation crashed down on her, tightening her chest. "So when we get there, we're screwed. She'll be free to do whatever she does to make me kill more people."

"Exactly." He stared at her with his good eye. "Well, you can always jump in the ocean and change before she gets a chance to brainwash you. Sorry."

The weight became a cinder block, then a mountain, as she mulled the words. Out on this yacht, there might not be any other choices. Andrina must be counting on her to be too scared to attempt it. "I'm not sure if I can, Gary. And you need to get out of here more than I do. What if she kills you when we get there?" Janelle winced at her words.

He stared at the ceiling. "There's nothing I can do about that."

Janelle struggled to find the right thing to say, and found it floating in her sea of panic. "Bull. You can get away. If you change again, there's no way they can catch you. And you won't turn back until you find land. All you have to do is jump off the boat."

He sat up with huge eyes—well, one huge eye—and dropped the ice pack to the bed. "No. I won't do it again. It was bad enough last time. I only did what I had to do. It's against the Natural Law to change when it's not your turn. _That_ rule, I actually agree with."

"But you can control yourself. You did it before. Just go somewhere that's not too inhabited." Her throat started to hurt. She couldn't bear the thought of Andrina hurting Gary. He was so...vulnerable.

He sank lower, towards the bedspread. "Like where? I'm not doing it again if it means killing anyone else." His head listed back. "I don't need to make my 'dad' any more right about leaving. I'm sure he's really proud of me."

His words flew into her gut like a knife. She'd said the wrong thing, but couldn't stop now.

"But you'll die if you don't. And you can go somewhere like Canada, where you'll get weak before you reach land. You could get out of killing people."

He leaned closer. "And what about you, Janelle? You'll be stuck with Andrina. I won't settle for that after all this."

Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. For her, there was no way out. None. "She won't kill me. I'm too valuable to her. And I am not letting her brainwash me."

"She's got ways. Andrina just tried to indoctrinate me, but she saves the real potent stuff for Tempests with loads of power. You remember Hurricane Joey from a few years back?"

Janelle nodded. It had been on the news for two weeks straight.

"I know Joey. He's my friend who lives on Alara with me. He's from a family of powerful Tempests, kind of like you are. Me, I'm a bit more average, so I flew under the radar more. Joey swore he'd never hurt anyone when he changed, but when his time got close Andrina made him listen to some recordings in his sleep without realizing it. He wound up killing over ninety people."

"Recordings? That's it?"

Gary's voice dropped as he forced his bruised eye open. "It sounds stupid, but they work, all right. Well, on Tempests, anyway, on the part of us that...isn't human. The part of us that can't reason."

Bile rose in Janelle's throat. She wasn't hearing this. "I'll find some ear plugs, okay? You should go."

He took her arm. His grip sent little tingles up her spine. "The only way I'm jumping off the boat is if you're coming with me."

A chill swept through her, chasing the tingles away. No. She couldn't. "Mr. Deville said that if I don't change, all this Tempest stuff will stop. There might still be a way."

Gary's hazel eyes widened, even his swollen one. "You're on a boat and headed to an island, Janelle. You'll be outnumbered. I know this is the last thing either of us want to do, but it's better than letting Andrina deal with you. Look, we can dive in and change at the same time. It's been done before, so I know it'll work. I don't care how mad the Elder Council gets."

"No." She grasped the pillow, squeezing it tight. He made perfect sense, but she couldn't give in. She couldn't become...become..."I can't do this."

Andrina broke out into yelling somewhere near the front of the yacht. "Put away that magazine. I want us at Alara by noon tomorrow. I have limited time to prepare my daughter for the Operation. Full speed, _now."_

Janelle squeezed her eyes shut as her skin crawled. She wished she could melt into the bed and vanish.

"Janelle, it'll be okay. We'll find a way to ditch her," Gary said, sliding his hand over hers. His fingers nestled in between hers.

Warmth spread through her whole body. He was holding her hand. Really, really holding her hand this time. Fresh tingles washed over and through her. She faced him. What if—

Gary's face slowly drifted towards hers.

And footsteps thudded closer and stopped at the doorway.

Janelle lifted her head as Gary jerked back. Andrina stood there, beckoning her with that fake smile. She looked more like a shark than ever in her gray suit.

If she'd seen their near-kiss, she gave no sign of it. "Come above decks with me, Janelle, and get some fresh air. You've been in here all day," she spoke with a voice like satin. "I won't push you into the water. Unlike your father, I'm truthful."

"Leave me alone." Every good tingle she'd just had vanished.

The high heels came closer, making muffled taps on the carpet. Andrina wrapped her bony hand around her forearm. Her skin tightened at her touch. "I insist."

Janelle rose, eyes downcast, trying to hide her racing pulse and her breathing that was about to go out of control. This was it. Once above decks, she and Gary would have to find a way to jump at the same time. She glanced at Gary, who nodded. It was a go, then.

"I'd like to come up, too." Gary said, standing. "I need some fresh air."

"You stay here," Andrina snarled. "This has nothing to do with you. I suggest you sit here and think about your failure as a Tempest instead, and how you're going to make up for that."

Janelle opened her mouth to say something to Andrina, but an invisible hand of terror had seized her vocal cords.

The honey coating returned to her captor's voice as she tugged on her arm. "Come on, Janelle."

Janelle stared down at the floor as they walked into the hallway, pretending that Andrina wasn't there. She ran her free hand along the polished cabinets, focusing on the patterns in the wood.

The hallway opened up into an oval-shaped living room, where two leather couches faced each other. A glass coffee table was littered with playing cards. Ivanna and another woman took up one of the couches with the two black-haired men opposite them that she'd never seen before. Andrina's crew or attendants, she decided.

This was worse than she'd expected. Any hope Janelle had that she and Gary could take control of the yacht evaporated like a puddle in a desert.

"When am I getting paid?" Ivanna chirped.

Andrina stuck her nose up, pulling Janelle towards a sliding door. It had gone completely dark outside, revealing all the stars overhead. The aroma of the ocean invaded Janelle's nostrils the second they stepped out. A breeze tousled her hair as she stepped up onto the deck and towards the railing that she and Gary would go over in a minute.

After closing the door, Andrina released her arm. She _was_ counting on her being too afraid to jump, after all.

All the muscles in her body tensed as she resisted the urge to move away from Andrina. Gary would come out any second, if he could fight past the crew inside.

Andrina stared down at the undulating water below. The light from the windows illuminated her gray business suit. "You hate what you are. I was afraid this would happen."

Foam and bubbles floated and whispered past the boat. The Tempest High Leader gripped the railing so hard that her knuckles stuck out.

The words poured from Janelle's mouth and she couldn't stop them. "You're not my mother. Even if you gave birth to me. All you care about is killing people."

The ocean continued to whisper below. When she jumped, would _she_ kill hundreds even without being forced to listen to those recordings or whatever was waiting for her at Alara? But she'd have a better chance of not doing so if she went now. Her father and uncle hadn't been that bad when they'd transformed, despite being the sons of Camellia.

"I care about the safety of my people." Andrina raised her head to stare into the expanse of darkness. "I know firsthand what can happen if we're discovered. My human mother stabbed my Tempest father to death while he was taking a nap. And then, she tried to kill me. She learned what we were and she hated us." Andrina faced her, the grays of her eyes deepening in the yellow light. The railing started to warp—actually warp—in her grip. "To this day, I remember the blood dripping from the knife she was holding. I was seven years old. Seven."

Janelle squirmed in discomfort under her gaze. Was she telling the truth? When was Gary going to get out here?

Andrina turned to Janelle with a swishing sound. Her eyes blazed. "I'll never forget what she said. 'You're a monster and I can't let you live.'" A pause. "Even at that age, I knew I had to defend myself. I had to hurl my dresser at my mother as she raised the knife."

"Most people aren't like that. That was one human out of billions."

Andrina shot her a look of doubt that made the pain squeeze tighter inside her. "After that, my Tempest grandfather took me and raised me. I took over as Tempest High Leader when he died twenty years ago. I've made it my mission to do something about the threat to our existence. To protect _you."_

"Then let me go."

Thumps and shouting erupted from inside the yacht.

Her heart leapt into her throat. That meant one thing. Gary was fighting his way through the other Tempests and coming outside.

It was time.

The door slid open with a bang. Gary plowed through the exit with Ivanna and the two men thudding up the stairs behind him. "Now, Janelle!" He reached for her arm and seized it.

An explosion of panic filled her chest, but she ran, trying not to think about what was about to happen.

The railing drew closer and the dark ocean lapped up and down, expecting them. Andrina's heels clicked somewhere. The salty breeze blew right into Janelle's face, sending the strongest tingle yet through her body.

Gary leapt over the railing.

She started to go down too, but another hand seized her shoulder from behind. She stopped. Gary's grip broke, pulled down by gravity. Janelle yanked her arm back just in time to watch Gary plummet to the water with a splash.

### Chapter Fourteen

"Back!" Andrina pulled Janelle away from the rail with an iron grip. She couldn't help but back away. Gary would change any second now. At least he'd escaped. Andrina wouldn't kill him.

Another small splash sounded from the water. Then, a cough.

He hadn't transformed. Janelle twisted her arm around and freed herself, then ran back to the rail.

"Don't even think about it, sweetie." The Tempest High Leader grabbed her elbow now, holding tight. "Ivanna...take her other arm."

A second pair of hands took her other elbow. There was no jumping now. Janelle wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or horrified. "Gary. Are you still down there?"

Another cough. "Yes."

She looked down. Gary gripped the ladder on the side of the yacht as bubbles foamed around him, hair plastered to his head. He spit out some water and looked up at her. His eyes showed no trace of storm clouds. No breeze snapped through the air, unlike the time at the beach. But that didn't make any sense.

Janelle knew why.

The ocean was waiting for her. No Tempest could transform now until she took her turn.

"She's not going anywhere just yet," Andrina clamped her hand down harder on Janelle's shoulder before she could move. "Now climb up here and get dried off, before I decide to break your neck and feed you to the sharks." She snapped her fingers at the two men, who waited in the doorway. "Take him inside and keep an eye on him."

Gary climbed up and flopped down on the deck, defeated. The ocean gathered around him in a puddle.

"You're _not_ going to hurt him," Janelle said. She could say what she wanted. There was no way they'd harm her, not if she was needed for this Operation. Or would they? She didn't care anymore. "If you're all for protecting Tempests, why are you talking about feeding us to sharks?"

Nobody said anything to her words. Gary stared down at the decks the two men led him away, back into the yacht.

Sickness bloomed in her stomach.

"Come inside, Janelle." Andrina said in that fake sugary voice. She'd ignored her question. "Sometimes, you have to put your foot down. That's the way it is when you're a leader."

"Don't talk to me."

They didn't let her go until she was back inside. Janelle burst across the carpet and back into the bedroom. Gary waited inside, wrapped in a towel and clothes stuck to his skin. She breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn't taken him away to hurt him. If they had, she would have made those two guys _very_ sorry.

Why was she thinking like this? Before two days ago, she'd never dreamt of hurting anybody. Had never felt such violence brewing up inside.

"You okay?" Gary dried off his hair.

Now she couldn't face him. "I'm sorry." Janelle fell onto the bed, pulling the covers over herself in case Andrina came after her. Her heart raced. Everything had gone wrong. Everything.

"Look, _I'm_ sorry. It was a huge thing I asked you to do."

"It was my fault you didn't escape," Janelle emerged from the covers and back into the dim light. "I should have jumped before you even came out. Then you could have gotten away, too."

Gary sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor. "Don't blame yourself. A lot of things could have gone wrong with that. We're outnumbered here."

"But now what?"

Gary got off the bed. One of his joints popped. "You're supposed to be even stronger than Andrina is, if she's right about what she said about you."

"I don't know how to use any of those powers, with the exception of breaking doors. Well, on purpose. So what good am I until I learn?"

"You _can_ learn. It's not that hard. I can probably show you once we're on Alara. Do it here and we'll wake everyone up. And Ivanna's keeping watch. We can't go off the boat now."

She closed her eyes and drifted for a long time. Janelle woke some time later to orange sunlight filtering into the hallway. Someone groaned from out in the living room—probably Ivanna. Sounds of waking and shuffling floated down the hall. Dread blossomed in Janelle's insides like a poisonous flower. It was morning. They had to be close to Alara.

"Gary?" Janelle searched back and forth.

He was lying next to her, only inches away, back turned and snoring.

She slapped him on the back. "Gary!"

He tumbled off the bed as if someone had poured a bucket of ice cubes over him. "What?"

"We're almost there. Got any great ideas?" she asked, face heating up. Hand holding was one thing, but this...if her father ever found out he'd slept in the same bed with her—let alone the same room—he'd explode.

Footsteps approached before he could answer. Janelle straightened up. She had no time to feel awkward.

Andrina clapped her hands together as she stopped near the foot of the bed. She'd changed into a black suit and combed back her wet hair. "We'll be pulling into the Alara marina in a few minutes. Janelle, why don't you come up front and see the island? I'm sure you'll love it."

The thought of spending any more time with that monster made shudders of revulsion race up and down her back, but she stood. If she wanted to escape, it was a good idea to see where she was going.

A minute later, Janelle stood in the front cabin of the yacht, standing as far as she could from Andrina.

One of the black-haired men steered them through sparkling blue water. Ahead, a conical island covered in palm trees rose from the ocean. No buildings. No roads. It was as inhabited as an ice cream shop on a cold day. Janelle scanned the coast up and down for boats she could steal or even a stretch of beach where she could write HELP in huge letters. No luck. On this side of the island, at least, the shores were rocky, jagged, and forbidding.

Her heart sank. There would be no escaping from here.

"Where is everybody?" Janelle asked despite herself.

Andrina smiled like a woman in a cleaning commercial. "Oh, we can't have people flying over and seeing our capital, can we?"

"That's the Tempest capital?" she asked. "It looks like that island from _Cast Away."_

"There's a cave system through the whole island. One of my pirate ancestors discovered it and used it as a haven for a while. Lots of gold piled up here over the years. Why do you think I'm so wealthy, Janelle? Think about it. Tempests made excellent pirates. Have ever since our creation hundreds of years ago."

"Creation?" Janelle echoed. How could things get any weirder?

"Of course," Andrina clasped her hands behind her back. "According to legend, when the Mayan civilization fell about five hundred years ago, their storm god, Huracan, was no longer having sacrifices made to him. He was forgotten and wanted to retire. So he traveled the world to find people to take over his duty. Whenever he found someone worthy of his power,"—she paused on the word _worthy_ —"he gave them his breath, which turned them into Tempests. Huracan went after people who were close to the ocean: sailors, pirates, coastal villagers. And once he'd made enough of us, he vanished and was never seen again."

Janelle shuddered and focused on the approaching palm trees. Sacrifices, storm gods, pirates...it was a bit too much. But what couldn't she believe anymore? "Is that actually true?"

Andrina shrugged. "Nobody knows for sure. Everyone's got their creation legends, you know. But I like to believe that it is." She stuck her nose in the air. "I'm certain my ancestors—yours, too—accepted Huracan's gift with pride. Some of the first Tempests spent their lives drowning themselves in booze because they refused to accept their new power."

The air grew thick. She had to leave. Another minute around Andrina and she'd scream. Janelle turned to scramble out of the front cabin.

But Gary stood in the doorway. His face had turned as purple as the ring around his eye. This had to do with his mother. She was an alcoholic.

Before Janelle could open her mouth to say anything, he stalked away.

"Gary was standing there," she said, unable to stop herself.

Andrina rested her palms on the back of the captain's chair. "I know. It should remind him not to go down the same path."

Words escaped her. Andrina was a monster in more ways she could imagine. She destroyed the lives of everyone she touched, human or Tempest.

The yacht made a turn around a group of jagged rocks, and a mouth in the side of the island seemed to open up for them. A cave stretched ahead into the darkness like the throat of a rocky giant. It looked so dark. Foreboding.

The yacht's headlamp turned on. Stalagmites hung down from the ceiling like teeth. That wasn't much better.

Janelle looked down at the greenish water and imagined pirate gold lying at the bottom. If there was any, it would be difficult for any of the Tempests to go down and retrieve it.

The black-haired man steered around a narrow curve. Ahead, the cave opened up into a huge cavern half the size of a football field. Electric lights and huge wires hung from the ceiling. Three other boats—one another yacht and the other two speedboats—rested alongside a dock. A fishing boat waited at the end. Sparks shot up from its deck. Someone was working on it.

Janelle studied the boats. If she stole one, it would have to be a speedboat. But she'd never driven a boat before. Gary might have, at least. They might have to try that.

The yacht pulled in alongside the other boats. The other black-haired man appeared above decks and jumped to the dock to retrieve a chain. After tying it to the boat, he waved to them. It was time to disembark.

Andrina hurried over and took her arm. "Welcome home, Janelle."

Janelle's heart leapt into her throat. Gary reappeared from one of the rooms as Janelle made her way to the sliding door and followed Andrina outside. He took her arm but said nothing. This time, no warmth swept through her body. She could feel Gary's anger flowing off him.

The cool air of the cave swept over her skin. Drips came from everywhere. They climbed onto the deck, followed by Ivanna and the other woman. Wherever this was, it wasn't home.

"Come on, Janelle. I need to show something to you," Andrina said.

Janelle swallowed and watched as they neared a round tunnel at the end of the dock. She glanced at Gary, whose face had every warning sign written on it.

"What?" Janelle asked. Her heart hammered in her chest and her stomach seemed to fill with air. The last surprise had been her father's trip to the Bahamas. One from Andrina would be worse, guaranteed. Her gut screamed at her to stop before she saw whatever was at the end of the tunnel. Something kept trying to worm into the edges of her mind. Something about the airport. It was bothering her, and she wasn't sure why.

Shadows spread across the tunnel walls as they passed under a light bulb. Andrina's heels clicked against the concrete floor. The air smelled wet and stale as if it had never seen the outside world. Janelle shuddered. She imagined for a moment that they were headed to some underground bomb shelter and that the world was ending, and that she would have to live in these depths forever and never see the surface again. Or her father.

Andrina rounded a curve and stopped, but her grip didn't loosen.

Before them was a steel door with a fingerprint sensor next to it, which glowed red as if an evil entity were hiding inside. Andrina pressed her finger down to it. _Click_. She twisted the handle and pushed the door open. "Welcome to Alara."

The room beyond the doorway was full of sunlight which spilled in through tall glass windows. A chandelier hung from the curved ceiling, reflecting little rainbows everywhere. A giant gray Tempest spiral decorated the floor. It was as if someone had copied her mark and laid bricks in its pattern, then polished it over. Plants lined the white walls. A couple of vending machines advertised Coke and Pepsi in the corner.

Janelle's stomach settled down a tad. Alara wasn't as bad as she'd expected, at least. It felt almost...welcoming. But it was a deception. If she wanted to make it out of here, she needed to remember that.

Gary pressed closer to her, squinting against the bright light. It was like he was trying to brace her for something. "What do you want to show her?" he asked, his tone every bit defensive and...protective?

Andrina patted Janelle on the shoulder. "Kevin should be arriving any second now. He beat us here by half an hour."

Kevin. The last she'd seen him--

"But he got on a flight to Flint two days ago," she said despite herself.

"You dropped your phone back at the school, Janelle. And you left so much information on it. Your voicemail and your plans to catch a flight at Orlando. Your plans to go up to Flint and stay with your friend." Andrina spoke the last sentence slowly, stressing every word. "And of course, your address book."

Janelle stiffened. Oh, god. _That's_ how she'd known everything.

As if on cue, footsteps echoed from a hallway, along with the sound of scuffling. A man in sunglasses appeared, leading a gagged, redheaded girl in front of him like some kind of prize. The same girl she'd left behind in her other life, who had won her that stuffed killer whale out of the claw machine on her last birthday.

No. No!

Andrina took a step forward and sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry, but time is short and this is necessary to make sure you do what's in our best interest. You led us right to your best friend, Leslie."

### Chapter Fifteen

Leslie looked down at the floor, red hair hanging in her face like a ragged curtain. Only the white cloth of the gag was visible through it.

"Mmmph nggg," Leslie tried, lurching forward.

Janelle's legs turned to rubber. Leslie didn't deserve to be dragged into this. Why had she even left her that message? All she had done was put her life in danger.

Gary's grip tightened on her arm as her friend cried out again, lifting her head. Tears streaked her freckled cheeks. Her eyes had turned a dull red. She'd been crying for a while. No surprise or relief flickered in them when her gaze landed on her.

Her best friend knew everything. What she was. What she could do.

"Leslie," Janelle breathed. She glared at Kevin. Rage rose up inside her. "Take that off of her!"

Kevin jerked her arms further behind her back, smirking. "She wouldn't shut up. What else was I supposed to do? I couldn't have her screaming on the boat because it was giving me a headache. Plus, how else was I going to get her out of her house without her waking the neighborhood up?"

Kevin had taken Leslie from her own room. It was the stuff of kidnapping movies.

More muffled cries from Leslie. She thrashed against Kevin's grip, hair flying back and forth. Her captor tugged on her arms again. A squeal of pain echoed off the walls.

Blood roared in Janelle's ears. All thought left her as she leapt forward, but Andrina's hand came down on her shoulder.

"Do not damage that girl, Kevin," Andrina snapped. "We need her alive." She sucked in a long breath, like she was feeding off Leslie's terror. "So, Janelle, can I count on it that you'll prepare for Operation Reckoning with no argument?"

" _Why her?"_ Janelle faced the Tempest High Leader, fists balled. Red hate grew inside her, exploding into a supernova.

A slice of hurt raced across Andrina's face, and her hands closed and squeezed. She'd said the wrong thing, but it was too late to take it back. But it was gone in a second. "This is nothing personal, Janelle. You just need a little persuading right now." She tapped her foot with a bony sound. "You also happen to be quite outnumbered. Now, I know that you're a smart girl, so you can figure out the terms here."

Janelle's breaths came shallow and whistled in her ears. A faint breeze started to blow through the chamber—was it her doing or the air conditioner?—but Andrina seemed not to notice. Gary shook his head in warning, glancing at Ivanna and the other Tempests. Two against six were pretty crappy odds.

He was right. They couldn't win here.

"W...what preparations are you talking about?" Janelle asked to stall.

Andrina gripped Janelle's shoulder and spoke in that satin voice again. "Oh, I can't spoil it ahead of time. It's nothing that hurts _you_ , of course. Just some simple suggestions to make sure you do what's needed for the Operation. Kevin, you made sure this...girl heard all about it, didn't you?"

_This girl._ Andrina didn't even consider her worthy of a name.

Kevin gave Leslie a nudge.

Her friend looked up like a puppet on strings. Andrina marched forward, reached out, and ripped off the gag. Leslie let out a breath as if the terror itself were escaping from her, but she didn't speak. Leslie _never_ stopped talking.

Janelle couldn't stand by anymore. "Leslie, don't worry. I'll get you out of—"

The freckles had turned brown against the paste that was Leslie's skin. "St...stay away from me, Janelle. I can't be friends with a Tempest. It's just too weird."

The world went silent and still as a cloud blocked out the sun, dimming the room. Janelle stepped back and bumped into Gary. Leslie, her best friend. Revolted at what she was. The past twelve years meant nothing now.

_No, I'm not like these people_ , Janelle tried to yell. But she couldn't. Her throat had locked up.

Because she _was_ like these people.

Andrina faced Janelle, unsmiling. "See what I mean?" she asked, somber. "I'm sorry, Janelle." She nodded to Kevin. "Put that girl down in storage for now. I'll page you any orders regarding her based on Janelle's behavior."

Kevin twisted Leslie around and forced her away down the hall. Only the sound of shuffling feet floated through the air. They vanished around a curve, silent. There were no apologies floating back to her. No pleas. Nothing.

"Gary, return to your quarters and stay there for now. Alec, you make sure he doesn't go anywhere," Andrina said, pointing to one of the black-haired men.

Gary started towards her. "But—"

"Now. Alec, let me know if he tries anything funny. Because if he does, I'll need to send Kevin some...new orders regarding Janelle's friend. Well, former friend."

Janelle jammed her hands into her pockets, squeezing the thin fiber inside. Why didn't she just say it out loud--that she wanted to have Leslie killed? It was so much scarier hearing it like this. Even if Leslie hated her now, she couldn't bear to see her murdered. It would also make every horrifying thing she feared about herself true. So she faced him, to be met with a gaze as hopeless as she felt. "Go, Gary. Just go!"

He cast his gaze to the floor and vanished down the middle hallway, Alec right behind him, leaving only a crushing feeling in her chest.

Andrina released her arm and walked across the room, stopping at the mouth of the left hallway. She made a clicking sound with her tongue, as if she were calling a dog to follow her. "Come on, Janelle. You've got nothing to be afraid of," she said, making her way down the hall.

Eyes downcast, Janelle walked beside the Tempest High Leader, staring down at the passing reflections on the polished floor. Her head pounded, but she barely noticed. Attacking Andrina would only kill Leslie. She couldn't risk going for her phone and keeping it away from her. Too much could go wrong with that plan.

"Oh, look up, Janelle. I keep my word. Your human 'friend' will live if you only agree to take your part in the Operation. If, in fact, you still feel any kind of friendship with her. I won't blame you if you don't." Andrina stopped, making a show of checking out her surroundings. "Isn't this room beautiful?"

Janelle peeled her gaze from the floor, fighting against the misery pulling her down. The hallway had opened up into a smaller domelike chamber. Four tube aquariums bubbled away in each corner, and fish of every possible color swam inside of them. Sunlight filtered down through glass in the ceiling, forming a swirl of light on the floor. For a moment Janelle forgot all about Andrina and Leslie and Gary and stared, amazed. It reminded her of a mall restaurant she'd been in not too far from her old house, the one that always had loud jungle sound effects and waterfalls and rainbows inside. She and Leslie had always used to check out the shop there and--

A fresh wave of hurt roared through her again, casting her gaze back down to the floor.

"This way," Andrina said, oblivious to it. Stairs curved up to a set of double doors with a huge Tempest swirl carved across them. "This is our apartment, reserved only for Tempest High Leaders and their families."

The situation weighed down harder. If she didn't escape, she'd have to spend every day with Andrina, the monster who had destroyed everything.

The Tempest High Leader placed her finger on another touchpad. The doors clicked open to reveal the most luxurious living room Janelle had ever seen.

Janelle shuddered. This was more what she'd expected from Andrina. The inside was still beautiful like the rest of Alara, but it was a dark type of beautiful, one with sharp teeth and a craving for blood. Thick red rugs spread out like pools under antique tables. A small shark swam in a tank nearby, baring all its jagged teeth underneath a greenish light. Another tank held fish with protruding jaws—piranhas. Darkness filled the rest of the space save for a green lamp in the corner and a curtain that seemed to go to an outside balcony.

Andrina patted her pocket in warning. "Come on in."

Leslie would be crying right now, with Kevin hovering over her, waiting for the call...

Janelle stepped into the room, fighting every urge to turn back and run.

Andrina closed the doors behind her. They sounded like a dungeon door closing. Janelle was trapped inside this apartment with her. Alone.

The Tempest High Leader clapped her hands and made for the kitchen counter. A motion-sensing light clicked on to show a covered platter waiting on it. "It looks like the cooks prepared our dinner already. Come grab a plate, Janelle, and we'll eat on the couch, though I want you to be careful not to get crumbs all over it. You're weak from lack of food, and we can't have that. It's best if you're at full strength when you change."

"Then I'm not eating."

Andrina thrust her hand into her pocket, grasping the phone inside. "I insist."

There were no choices here. This was the High Leader's game, and she had no choice but to play by the rules. Eating would give her time to think, at least. Maybe, if she made Andrina complacent, she could pluck the phone from her pocket and run. But what if Andrina had more than one phone, or had a second one in the apartment somewhere? It was another risk she couldn't take. She'd made too many bad decisions in the past two weeks, and that one might be the most dangerous.

A chicken in some kind of sauce gave off an aroma as Andrina carved it. Janelle's stomach rumbled. Her legs quivered with weakness and a dull ache had crept into her skull. Her last meal had been home, with her father, the one she'd shared with Gary. The macaroni.

Andrina opened a pan on the stove and heaped some mashed potatoes onto two plates. She followed with green beans and biscuits, making sure she could see.

Saliva flooded Janelle's mouth, but she looked away to hide her hunger. No way would she look grateful to Andrina for anything. It would only give her more power.

A plate of steaming food slid across the counter to her, and Andrina waved her towards the leather couch. A minute later Janelle sat on the edge of it, pressing against the armrest to keep as much distance as she could between them.

"Eat." She made a show of stuffing some chicken into her mouth and chewing.

Her stomach growled again. She'd eat, but maybe she could throw it up later, so that if Andrina did manage to make her listen to any deadly tapes, she wouldn't have the strength to go through with Operation Reckoning when she transformed.

_When._ Not _if._ She couldn't kid herself anymore. The fact that she was already out in the middle of the Caribbean sealed her fate. Her only hope now was to get out of here before the brainwashing started.

Janelle forced a bite of the chicken, trying not to think about it, squeezing its juices out and across her tongue. Despite her situation, food had never tasted so good.

Andrina ate in silence next to her, but Janelle could sense her stare boring into her every time she paused between bites. Janelle looked away and studied the books on the shelf, regretting it instantly. _Hurricane Andrina: A Warning Unheeded. Andrina and the Failure of Government Emergency Response. Andrina: A Storm for the Ages._ The DVD's were no better, and one that read _Geographic Review's Future_ _Disasters_ on the spine sat on top of the DVD player as if it were part of a shrine.

Janelle forced down a bite of her buttery mashed potatoes, which tasted bitter all of a sudden. _She's not my mother, she's not my mother, she's—_

"So how's the food?" Andrina set her fork down on her plate with a _clink._ "We have excellent cooks here."

"Fine." Janelle finished the potatoes and speared the green beans, barely able to eat but unable to stop.

"That's good. And just so you know, I also want you well rested before the Operation." Andrina put her plate down on the glass coffee table. "You've got rings under your eyes, sweetie, so I suggest you take a nap. The sleep medicine in your mashed potatoes ought to help with that."

Janelle vaulted off the couch. She let the plate fall to the floor, where it shattered and rained splinters over her feet. _"Sleep medicine?_ I just slept on the boat!"

Andrina stood as well, her eyes shining with triumph that she couldn't quite hide. "Only for two hours. You have a lot of catching up to do."

Sleep. That was when Andrina would make her listen to those hypnotic recordings, if Gary was right about that. He hadn't lied to her yet.

Already it felt as if shadowy hands were creeping up into her mind, turning the world into a giant, dark puddle bent on drowning her.

"Ahem." Andrina stopped at the mouth of a hallway and patted her pocket.

Her chin quivered. There was no escaping this.

With heavy legs she followed her to an open door at the end of the hall. A lavender bedroom waited on the other side. Another chandelier hung from the ceiling and a canopy bed waited in the middle of the room, its covers pressed and smooth from years of waiting. Clothes stuffed the closet, most of the shirts a perfect fit for her height, but others were too small and junior-high sized.

Andrina had been expecting her arrival for years.

Janelle rubbed her arms in disgust as her legs carried her into the room, pulled by the thread of obedience that was keeping Leslie alive. She didn't see the stereo system next to the bed until she was almost right on it. A CD in a blue case sat on top, with her name written across it with the neatest handwriting she'd ever seen.

Janelle's heart leapt into her throat. _No, oh no, no..._

"Your room," Andrina said, watching her and the CD closely. "I decorated it myself years ago. I hope you like lavender. The mattress is unused, so it should be quite comfortable."

The world started to blur. She had no choice.

Janelle climbed into bed and pulled the covers over herself. She could leave her eyes open just a little, and Andrina wouldn't know the difference. As long as she stayed conscious, the recording wouldn't work. Right?

Those shadowy hands reached up again to drag her down to oblivion.

A mechanical click followed as the CD player opened.

Breathe evenly. Stay awake. Whatever you do, stay--

* * * * *

Janelle hovered miles above the earth as the ocean churned below. A roar filled her being with an energy she had never imagined—and it only grew stronger the more she spun over the intoxicating warmth of the water. She wrapped more of the moisturizing clouds around herself and turned towards a distant stretch of land. There was something to do, something that had to be fixed.

" _Feel the power, Janelle." Andrina's silky voice seemed to echo from everywhere, fading in and out and cutting through the roaring in her mind. "Grow strong on it...go north...move faster."_

Yes. She swept as much of the ocean's energy as she could into her eye and allowed it to course through her being, making her stronger...more powerful.

" _Faster...don't give them time to get away."_

The coastline drew nearer and the mouth to an enormous river cut away into it. Gray and brown lumps stuck up from the ground all around it. Skyscrapers. Pointed and squared, they towered into the sky as if daring her to test them.

" _Drown the city, Janelle. They all hate you. Show them no mercy, and make your mother proud!"_

With a flex of her will, she raised a wall of water and hurled it against the shoreline and down the river, watching it tumble towards the huddled group of buildings in its path. The tallest of them pointed up to her like a conical finger, accusing.

"No!"

Janelle sprang up in bed, flailing and flinging the blanket off. She gripped her arms to make sure they were still there and ran her hands across her stomach. She hadn't transformed yet, but that voice was still everywhere around her, invading her ears and--

The drone of Andrina's voice came out of the stereo. "Flood it all. Smash everything that you can."

Janelle leapt out of bed and hit the STOP button before it could get out any more. The room fell silent.

Andrina had left. Some time must have gone by. An hour? Two? The _repeat_ function glowed on the stereo, which meant that the recording could have played twenty, thirty, or forty times by now. More than once it had burned its poisonous message into her brain.

Janelle sat on the floor, staring at the carpet for what felt like an eternity. The nightmare replayed itself in her mind, like Andrina had stamped it there forever. Terror crept up into her chest, riding on the realization that she did have another nature after all, and that the skyscraper from her dream had been the Empire State Building.

Andrina had appointed her New York City's executioner.

### Chapter Sixteen

Janelle wasn't sure how she managed to stand. It took minutes. The damage was done. Operation Reckoning would go ahead as planned.

New York City. It was always ground zero in all those bad disaster movies. Always had a target on it for every possible disaster. But they never got hurricanes there. At least, not the strong ones. All the really deadly ones were in places with palm trees. Storms that went north of the Carolinas always seemed to get weak and die—right? It was why she'd told Gary to head north if he managed to change.

But Andrina had that DVD about future disasters out in the living room. If a powerful New York City hurricane was really possible, it would be in there. From the silence outside her room, it sounded like she had left.

Janelle rushed out into the living room, where only the shark swimming in its tank greeted her with its row of jagged teeth. The DVD sat on top of the player. She swiped it off with a trembling hand. Sweat marks formed on the plastic around her fingers.

_Geographic Review's Future Disasters_. A tornado, a volcano, a tsunami, and a hurricane took up the cover. She averted her eyes, popped it open, and pulled out the shiny booklet inside. That would tell her, or at least give her a clue. Pages flipped in her hands. Wildfires. Asteroid impacts. Tornadoes. Glaciers. Death. And then—

New York City vs. Major Hurricane.

Janelle's heart stopped. _God._

Skyscrapers rose up from a massive flood, almost skeletal with their windows broken out. On the next page, a gigantic hurricane spun over the ocean, anticipating its prey.

Janelle couldn't help it. She screamed and threw the booklet on the leather couch, burying her face in her hands. It _was_ possible after all.

Someone hammered on the double doors. "Janelle! You in there? I can't open this. It's locked, but I'll break it down if I have to."

Gary.

She bolted to the doors, nearly slipping on the polished floors. With a tug they came open, and Gary stood on the other side with a guy in glasses of about nineteen or twenty.

He barged in, followed by his companion. "Andrina's meeting with the Elder Council right now and she took Alec and Ivanna with her, so we were able to get up here. This is the Joey I was telling you about."

Joey shook Janelle's hand in a hurry. She barely registered it.

"Hello," he said. "I heard Andrina was going to make you listen to her brainwashing stuff in your sleep. If you know where she keeps the recordings, I can exchange them with these discs." He fished in his pocket and produced a couple of CDs in blue cases. "I burned them on my computer. She'll think she's giving you the real thing, but then they switch to some classical music about ten minutes through. And I don't think Mozart's going to make you kill thousands of people."

Janelle stiffened and stared down at the help that had come too late. The mask crumbled, and everything burst forth that she was supposed to hide and control. "It's already been done!" she wailed, turning and pounding her fists on the leather couch. Tears filled her eyes. She plucked the _Future Disasters_ booklet off the cushion and threw it at Gary. "That's what I'm going to do."

Gary flipped it open and blanched. "Are you sure, Janelle? Very few Tempests can pull that off. Hurricanes get weak when they get to that colder water up around New York." He was trying to sound hopeful, but there was a nervous undertone to his voice.

"But I'm supposed to be the strongest," Janelle said, voice wobbling. Warm tears ran down her cheeks now, and she didn't care. "What else would she want to use me for?"

Joey shuffled over and eyed the booklet. "So this is how she's going to start her war?"

"It would get the world's attention like nothing else would," Gary said, the last of his own mask falling away. "I...I think she's planning to reveal us to everybody while Janelle's...you know. To start it all. She wants the whole world to be scared of us."

"Let's put the DVD in," Joey said, ashen. He snatched it off the couch and headed for the TV. "We've got time. Those meetings always take at least three hours, and with Operation Reckoning it's going to be a long one."

"No," Janelle pleaded over the lump in her throat.

"There might be something in it that's useful," Joey said, turning on the television.

The logo for _Future Disasters_ popped up on the screen and dramatic music played in surround sound.

Janelle stood behind the couch and sniffed. She had to get it together. Crying wouldn't help her situation. Leslie was still trapped here somewhere. If any good was to come out of this, she'd have to get herself back under control.

Gary appeared next to her. His hand wrapped around hers and squeezed, sending waves of calm through her body. It felt warm, safe. It was the only comfort she'd had all day.

It was short-lived. The screen filled with the Manhattan skyline and slowly zoomed in. A man narrated with a voice filled with doom. "New York City. Home to eight million people and also the economic center of the country. And also a place not commonly associated with hurricanes. And yet," the man paused as the screen changed to a satellite map of Long Island, "New York City is one of the most susceptible cities to their wrath, with damages potentially in the hundred billion dollar range if one were to strike. And it is not a matter of if, but _when."_

_When._ That word again.

The screen changed to a satellite shot of an unknown hurricane in the Atlantic. Ominous music played. Gary's grip on her hand tightened. Joey flinched. Bile rose in Janelle's throat. No, she didn't want to see that. She stared down at the leather couch until it vanished.

The narrator continued. "If a Category Three storm or higher arrived at or near New York City during high tide, a storm surge of as high as thirty feet could race up the Hudson River towards Manhattan, flooding the island and the subway systems."

Water rose in a subway tunnel, then around a group of office buildings. "It would rise around Wall Street, shutting down the stock exchange for weeks. The windows to all the skyscrapers would blast out, raining glass on anyone standing in the streets. Millions of people would need to be evacuated in a very short amount of time."

A woman appeared in front of a black background. "The devastation could be incredible, dwarfing that of the infamous Andrina. Manhattan could become inescapable with all the flooding. Also, it's hard enough to get around when the city's traffic is normal, so an evacuation would pose a great challenge. Huge traffic jams could result as the storm bears down on the city."

The man returned. "But worst of all is the fact that hurricanes moving to the north move much faster than their southern counterparts. A strong hurricane could race north in a day without losing its punch. Residents would have maybe a day and a half's warning to evacuate, which clearly is not enough time for so many people. Deaths could climb into the thousands."

Janelle broke away from Gary and buried her face in the couch. "Get rid of it. Please." Every word of the show had stabbed into her like a flying knife.

Gary's voice rose to a yell. "Take it out, Joey. This isn't doing any good. We're better off looking for the yacht keys."

With a _click,_ the TV turned off.

Gary's arms wrapped around her, pulling her away from the couch. Janelle sank into his hug as his warmth enveloped her. Only then did she realize she was crying again.

"Shhh," he said, rubbing his hand along her back. "We're breaking out of here. We'll find those keys."

The keys. Of course. Janelle lifted her head from Gary's shoulder and rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. "She's got to have them here. Where would she keep them?"

Gary shrugged. "I've never been up here before. You're the only reason I got in."

"Well, look everywhere." Janelle wiped the tears away and pulled the cushions off the couch, holding in the urge to apologize for crying and embarrassed that she'd broken down like that in front of him.

Joey put his palms in the air. "Um...I don't know if trashing the Tempest High Leader's apartment is such a good idea."

"I'll say I did it," Janelle said. "She won't kill me. And she deserves it. Now help."

Cupboards flew open, rugs overturned, and books toppled from shelves as they searched every square inch of the apartment. Janelle tossed whole drawers to the kitchen floor. Nothing. She rushed out into the living room and flipped over rugs while Gary took a pair of tongs and dug through the gravel on the bottom of the piranha tank. Still nothing.

"Go through every room," she said, pointing down the hall.

They flipped the mattress off Andrina's canopy bed and tore apart her closet full of gray business suits, going through the pockets. No keys. Janelle pawed through the medicine cabinet and even pulled the gratings from the air vents. The last hope drained from her as they peered into the last one. Nothing but a cobweb.

"She must have taken them with her," she said, sinking down the floor of the hallway and wrapping her arms around her legs. "I should've known. Where else would she have them but her pocket?"

Gary sat beside her, bangs hanging in his face. "Hey, it was worth a try."

He was out of ideas. It was all up to her now. "No," she said, pulling herself up against the despair trying to push her back down. "If I don't get out of here, thousands of people are going to die. And we have to get Leslie back to the mainland."

"She's right," Joey said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "But we have to get the keys first. There's no point in breaking her friend Leslie out if we can't get out of here."

He was right. "What if she put the keys somewhere else on Alara?" Janelle asked, running for the double doors and jumping over an avalanche of books. "There's got to be a break room or a garage or something."

Gary stepped over a toppled table. "Yeah right, Janelle. She knew me and Joey would get out of our rooms when she called Alec and Ivanna to the meeting. That means she's convinced we can't get out of here."

Janelle froze, her hand on one of the doors. "Then we'll have to overpower her. There's three of us now. We need to get Leslie first. I won't risk Andrina telling Kevin to kill her."

Would Leslie even accept her help now? She would have to.

"Go after _Andrina?"_ Joey exploded, eyes widening behind his glasses. "Oh, no. I wasn't asking for this."

"Yes, go after Andrina. I'm supposed to be stronger than her. You guys are going to help me." She winced at the low blow she was about to make, but it was necessary. "Did you like it when she made you kill a hundred people, Joey?"

Joey gripped the back of the couch, face growing red and jowls wobbling. She'd hit him where it hurt, but they didn't have time to worry about that.

"All right," he said, shoving the couch so hard that it toppled onto the glass coffee table. A shattering sound filled the room and died. "This Leslie. If Andrina knew me and Gary would get out, she could've moved her to another location so we can't find her. Andrina's got brains. Where'd she say they'd be keeping her?"

"Basement, I think," Janelle said, opening the doors on the empty stairwell. She'd been too stung by Leslie's rejection to hear Kevin and Andrina clearly. But it made sense. Where else did you keep prisoners?

"Must be the storage areas. We can check." Joey led the way down the stairs.

Janelle followed him into the dome with the fish tanks. The fish swam in circles inside their tubes, oblivious to the nightmare going on outside their little world. The lights had dimmed in the hall and their footfalls echoed off the walls. No light filtered down through the spiral in the dome ceiling. Night had fallen. She had been asleep for a long time, listening to that recording.

If they threw her in the ocean now, Operation Reckoning would become a reality.

"Are they all in the meeting?" Janelle asked.

"Most of them," Gary said, taking her arm.

Janelle shuddered. Kevin must still be guarding Leslie.

The hallway curved ahead and opened up into the main chamber. Circles of light shined around the plants and reflected off the now-black windows. The gray spiral on the floor seemed to twist for a second, but Janelle blinked. An illusion. Only the air conditioning blew against her skin, raising an army of goosebumps along her arms.

"Which way to storage?" she asked. Two other hallways branched off from this one.

"He dragged Leslie down that one, remember?" Gary pointed to the middle one and gulped, realization stealing over his features. "We'll have to pass the meeting hall."

Janelle swore, but they couldn't turn back now. "Come on. If we wait for the meeting to end they'll all be out here. Let's take off our shoes until we're past it or we'll make too much noise." Her voice echoed off the walls and the polished floors. It was something Leslie would have thought of. She could piece anything together.

"Good thinking." Gary took off his shoes and wiggled his toes inside his gray socks.

She tucked her shoes behind a potted plant and watched as Gary and Joey did the same. Pulse roaring in her ears, she followed them, shuffling her feet to keep them from slapping on the floor. Only quiet surrounded them on all sides. She'd finally made a good decision.

Muffled voices floated down the walkway. A pair of wooden double doors stood wide open ahead, a pair with the Tempest swirl carved on them. A yellow glow spilled out and formed a rectangle on the wall like a prison searchlight. A long, human-shaped shadow moved across it.

"Now what?" Janelle mouthed to Gary. They had left the doors open for a reason: to watch for them. It meant that Leslie was definitely down this hall.

A pang shot through her at the thought of her friend. If their situations were reversed, would Leslie do this for her?

Gary crept up to the door and peeked in through the crack in the corner. He waved them over and ducked down to let Janelle peek into the meeting hall.

A long, polished table with a glass Tempest swirl etched in it stretched down the room, shining in the light of a chandelier. A group of ten suited older people sat in leather rolling chairs around it while other Tempests—at least twenty of them—occupied benches along the walls. Some had lines under their eyes and an older man fidgeted like he wasn't pleased. Ivanna and Alec shuffled their feet on the thick blue carpet. They looked bored. Camellia was with them, too, dressed in a navy blue suit. She glared up to the front of the room, where Andrina stood behind a podium. It seemed like they had been deliberating for hours, and judging from the thick tension in the room, possibly arguing.

Janelle's heart wrenched. Going in there to steal the yacht keys would make as much sense as trying to swim off the island.

"I'm glad that we're all settled now. Dim the lights," Andrina ordered someone near the door. "I want a nice, ominous feel to this video. Got the camera pointing at me? Good." She smiled, letting the false sugar melt away. "I've been rehearsing this for weeks."

The lights dimmed, leaving only one shining on Andrina's face, which looked like a pale moon in the darkness. The other Tempests seemed like magical shadows hunched around their master, waiting for an order to go haunt children's nightmares. It was fitting.

"Rolling," a man said.

"Greetings, humanity," Andrina said as she folded her arms. "You may not believe what I am about to say at first, but you will discover it to be true in a few days' time. I am Andrina L. Morgen, leader of the entire Tempest race. We have met before, though not in the form that I am in now..."

Andrina trailed off as she spilled the truth about Tempests and their abilities, swelling with pride. Confusion washed over Gary's face, and then Joey's. Janelle felt the same. She was making a video to send to the world's news stations, but why was she revealing everything if she was so scared of being discovered?

"We are your gods, and it would be in your best interest to follow any instructions we give you in the future," she went on, the growl creeping into her voice. "If you don't believe me, look into my eyes and see what I truly am." A pause as the camera no doubt zoomed in for the full horror. "I'm sure this isn't enough proof for you, so I have devised a little plan called Operation Reckoning."

A shudder raced down Janelle's spine as she stiffened. That was about to get spilled, too. She did not want to hear this.

"Perhaps you will all believe me when my prediction comes true to every detail. One of our numbers, Hurricane Janelle, will strike New York City directly at high tide in only a few days. A thirty foot storm surge will drown a good portion of Manhattan and flood the subway system. Thousands of your pathetic lives will be lost. Your economy will take a massive blow and will be crippled for weeks."

Janelle squeezed her eyes shut, putting her hands over her ears and biting her tongue to keep the scream in. She couldn't sit here and listen any more.

Gary tapped her on the shoulder, as if sensing her agony.

She uncovered her ears to be met with silence. The meeting room lights were still dimmed, and they had to get across the doorway before they turned back on. It was their only chance.

"After this event has passed, I will send a follow-up video with further instructions on how to keep us from striking your other major cities," Andrina said. "I suggest you follow them."

It was now or never. Janelle seized Gary's arm. "Now," she mouthed.

Joey scooted past the doorway, socks slipping across the floor. The light on Andrina's face went off, casting her in darkness.

Janelle vaulted across the floor and made it to the other side of the door, Gary in tow. The yellow light clicked back on, casting its rectangle across the hallway.

Her heart leapt, but there were no footfalls. No yells. They'd made it without getting seen.

Joey's eyes bulged as he waved them forward down the hallway. Sliding her feet across the floor to avoid making noise, Janelle released Gary's arm and followed.

Ahead, the hallway branched into two. A pair of double doors on the right led into a room where computer screens glowed in neat rows. The other led downstairs into the dark.

Joey turned, nodded, and started down the steps. They must have stuck Leslie in the darkest, creepiest place in the whole complex. Of course.

If she was even still alive.

If she would even still talk to Janelle.

Janelle sucked in a breath. She had to do this, no matter what. She wasn't going to be like the people who'd kidnapped Leslie. Leslie had a normal, human life to return to. It was something Janelle would never have again. And Leslie would go back to it, no matter what.

A faint musty smell invaded her nostrils as she descended deeper into the island. The humming of water heaters echoed through the walls. Below, the stairs ended in a basement where orange lights hung on huge concrete poles. They must be way under the surface of the island now. It looked about as inviting as an underground parking ramp.

Janelle stopped at the stairs. "What's down here?" she asked, careful not to raise her voice too much.

"Just supplies and food. Nothing dangerous," Joey said. "There's three of us. We should be able to take down Kevin if he's here. I didn't see him at the meeting."

"You're right," she said. Gary shifted next to her.

The place was empty. Flies hovered in clouds around a garbage bin on one side of the room. Boxes were stacked up on either side of a steel door that probably led to a freezer. Gray doors lined the end of the basement. Rumbling noises came out from those, but no voices.

"She might be behind one of those," Janelle said, pointing. Of course they'd put her somewhere crappy. She raced for the first door, feet slapping against the floor. Hot air rushed out as she yanked it open. "Leslie?"

Only the hum of the water heater and the surrounding pipes answered. Janelle stepped into the room, holding her breath as much as she could. "Help me look," she said, waving Gary into the room.

Janelle peeked behind a group of pipes only to find more cobwebs and a puddle of water on the floor.

"I don't think she's in here," Gary said, looking behind a huge cylinder. "Joey's right. Andrina probably moved her. Or--" He didn't finish but let the meaning sink in.

Janelle left the room, slamming the door. "Leslie can't be dead. Andrina didn't have time to do that."

_But Kevin did_ , that mean little voice said.

Joey emerged from a dark room, bringing a swirl of dust out with him. He coughed and shook his head. "Nope. She's not in there."

Janelle pointed, her heart racing with one last hope. "There." The steel door. It was the last one.

Boxes of lettuce, cheese, orange juice cartons, and eggs lined the metal shelves inside. A chill swept through the air. Food storage. Another steel door at the rear of the room waited for them.

"That's the meat freezer," Gary said. "I hope she's not in there."

It was worth a check. Her heart pounded as she closed the door behind her to stifle the sound of her voice. "Leslie?"

"Janelle? I'm in here. Get me out. I'm freezing!"

A huge sigh of relief escaped her. Leslie was alive, and not screaming at her to go away. "Is anyone in there with you?"

"No. Just come in and untie me. My feet are numb."

Janelle gripped the cold metal of the freezer door handle and tugged it open with a faint cracking sound. A cold like a January morning wrapped around her as she raced into the room.

Leslie sat against a box of meat with a thick gray blanket wrapped around her. Her foggy breath spiraled towards the ceiling.

"You're okay," Janelle breathed, removing the blanket and wrapping her in a hug. "Are you hurt?" Leslie shook her head, teeth chattering, and nodded down towards her arms. They were tied behind her back, but there was no blood on her clothes. "Why'd they put you in here? I'm going to kill Kevin."

Leslie looked up at her and spoke through her bluish lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say those things to you earlier. Kevin f...forced me to or he was going to break my f...fingers. Oh my god, Janelle. How did we end up in this mess?"

Oh.

Kevin _had_ pulled on Leslie right before she'd told Janelle she didn't want to be her friend anymore. It made sense now. Leslie must have felt awful, sitting in here by herself with that to think about. "Don't worry. I didn't believe it," she lied, helping Leslie to her feet as Gary undid the ropes around her wrists.

Leslie shot her a _you're lying_ look. "Don't think that I'm not still your friend, Janelle. This whole thing is _not_ your fault." She wrung out her wrists. "So...is this what that gray spiral on your arm is really about? I thought it was just a birthmark. It might take me a while to get used to it."

Leslie still wanted to be friends. It made a happy glow spread through Janelle. "Yeah. And I don't blame you for doing what you did. I'd rather not have your fingers broken," Janelle said as Leslie's arms came free. "Where'd Kevin go?"

Leslie shook her head. "He put me in here an hour ago and left. He was keeping me over in that boiler room but that woman came down and told him to move me."

_That woman._ Leslie still didn't know the whole truth. It might be best to keep that part a secret until she could absorb the rest.

Joey hung in the doorway, breathing clouds of vapor like a train. "Let's go. We still have to get the keys. Something weird is going on here. I don't have a good feeling about this."

He was right. A freezer was a strange place to keep a prisoner.

"Okay," Janelle said. "We're out of here. And fast."

Everyone piled out of the freezer. Janelle raced for the door right behind Joey.

Loud crashes sounded on the other side of the steel door. Janelle's stomach raced up into her throat as Joey stopped and she bumped into him.

"Hurry up, Kevin," Andrina yelled. "We've got to block them in!"

### Chapter Seventeen

So _that_ was why Leslie got stuck in the freezer.

Andrina had been counting on them to come here after Leslie. She'd let them. Now they were trapped in here.

And coldness took away a Tempest's powers and strength.

"Charge the door!" Gary shouted, pushing against Janelle and slapping Joey on the back.

Joey rammed his body against it. The door flew out an inch—enough to reveal a mountain of storage boxes on the other side—and slammed shut again. More thumps sounded as Andrina and Kevin stacked more of them in front of their exit, preventing their escape. The cold had already sapped most of Joey's strength.

"Let me try!" Janelle squeezed around Joey and rammed her shoulder into the door. This time it didn't budge. The cold had done its work on her while she was untying Leslie.

Gary joined her at the door. "Push!"

Still the door didn't move, and muffled thumps continued as the boxes built up on the other side. They were trapped, in a prison within a prison.

"Stop struggling, Janelle!" Andrina shouted from somewhere on the other side of them. "I was afraid you'd misbehave. You've given me no choice but to make sure you're manageable when I come for you in the morning."

"No!" Janelle rammed her body into the door again. Nothing. Andrina and Kevin had sealed them in. "I don't want anything to do with your Operation!"

Footsteps headed away from them, growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared. Andrina's ears were closed on her, and would never open.

Silence fell. Janelle stared at the pits on the steel door as the cold of the giant fridge soaked into her skin and stole away her last hope of escape.

"Well," Joey said, shrugging, "at least we have something to eat in here."

Janelle didn't feel like eating, not after her last meal had knocked her out. Instead, she snuggled up to Gary for warmth. He wrapped his arm around her and held her tight. But this time, he didn't speak. There was nothing left for either of them to say.

She'd be taking her dive into the ocean at dawn, full of that poisonous nightmare that would kill thousands. Even if she saw her father again, she could never face him. Not after the mistakes she'd made.

Hours passed. What time was it? She was too wired, too scared to close her eyes. Gary wrapped his arm around her and held her close. He didn't say much. What _could_ he say? He couldn't reassure her, because he didn't lie.

But his presence was enough. That was all she needed right now. That, and the fact that her best friend didn't hate her after all.

Leslie ate several slices of cheese as she recovered from her bout in the freezer. "I'm so sorry, Janelle. I didn't mean to make you feel like crap," she said between bites, like she had seven times before. "You've got to feel bad enough. I would have never thought there was more to hurricanes than just a bunch of random stuff happening in the atmosphere." She unwrapped another slice of cheese. "That Kevin guy showed me his powers on the boat. He was able to make the water choppy and made a wind kick up so bad I nearly fell off. I thought he was going to kill me. He said he'd go back and murder my mom if I didn't cooperate with him. I wanted to yell for security at the airport, but I was so scared."

"It's okay," Janelle said, wrapping her fingers in the fabric of her shirt, feeling for what Leslie must have gone through during her abduction. "If it was just a few degrees warmer in here, we could just walk out."

Leslie fiddled with the plastic cheese wrapper, which crinkled in her hands. "I can't believe I'm sitting in here with walking, talking hurricanes. What other disasters are running around as people? Earthquakes? Tornadoes? Snowstorms?"

"Don't know," said Gary, working at opening a cup of applesauce. "If there's any others, they keep to themselves. We haven't run into each other."

Joey cleared his throat. "That could change after Andrina releases her video. Who knows what's going to come out of that?"

A fresh spike of terror ran through her as she remembered. Leslie might be okay with them being friends, but would Andrina kill her when the Operation started? Janelle wouldn't be here to protect her. Gary and Joey would help, but they might not be able to keep her safe for long.

_Thump_.

Janelle's heart leaped as she sprang to her feet.

_Thump_. Louder this time.

Dawn had come. Andrina had returned. She was clearing the boxes away to drag her down to the water.

She stood no chance this time. Heart thudding, she seized the cold metal of the closest shelf and braced herself for the worst.

"Janelle." A soft female voice floated through the door.

"Get to the back. We'll try to hold her off," Gary said, pushing her back and standing near the door. Joey joined him.

"Janelle. I know you're in there. Answer me."

This wasn't Andrina. There was warmth in this voice.

The handle twisted slowly, and the door came open.

The yellow-orange light of the basement poured into the room, framing Camellia in her navy blue suit. "Come with me, all of you, before Andrina comes down here. We don't have much time. Janelle, I need to speak to you."

Janelle's legs carried her towards the woman—and her grandmother—as if they'd lost the will to resist this nightmare any longer. She'd killed hundreds of people, too. She couldn't be much better than Andrina.

But she was letting them out of here.

Camellia rested her hand on Janelle's back as soon as everyone had left the fridge. She'd figured out what she hadn't known back at the school, then. She walked, pulling Janelle along with her.

"Janelle." She let out a slow breath. "I believe that you're my granddaughter and the child that Andrina told us all was stillborn. What's your father's name?"

"Lucas. He told me about you already," she said, studying the floor. Should she be grateful? Scared? Neither? This was awkward enough.

"Good. That saves a lot of explaining." Camellia glared back at the fridge. "I'm not going along with Andrina anymore. It's disgusting that she'd lock up her own child like this and lie to me about your death. I don't care if she had to do it to save face. If I'd known what she'd turn into, I never would have pushed my son into marrying her." A pause. "Not that I'm not happy to have you or anything."

A painful lump grew in Janelle's throat. Camellia was no saint, but she'd come down and freed her. Could it be that she'd gained an ally on the side of power?

"It's okay, Janelle," she said, guiding her closer to the stairs. _"I'm_ going to take you out to transform. On the way we'll try to reverse the brainwashing Andrina did, so your natural path is restored, as it should be. I'm sure your father's voice will work great for that."

"My father?" She looked up into Camellia's wrinkled face, but it was serious. She had her dad's eyes, she noticed. And Mr. Deville's eyebrows.

"I got a text from him half an hour ago. He and Hank will be pulling into the lagoon any minute. They sent me to get you, because if they came in they'd be spotted. That's when I knew you were probably my grandchild. Come on. We've got to meet them before someone else does."

Escape. They were getting out of here. She wouldn't kill thousands of people. But..."What about Leslie?" Her friend walked behind Gary and Joey, looking small and scared.

"She can come, but only if she swears to keep our secret for the rest of her life," Camellia said, casting a dark glance towards Leslie. "Do you swear?"

Leslie nodded with vigor. "Of course I do. Who's going to believe me if I tell, anyway? They'd lock me up and tie me in a straightjacket."

"Well, I trust you better than Andrina. I don't like the thought of her blowing our cover to the world," Camellia said as she walked. "Not all of us stand behind what she's doing. If the humans find our location they could drop a nuclear bomb on us tomorrow. And without us, the planet would go into chaos." She patted Janelle on the back. "Let's move faster. Quietly."

Camellia's slippers made faint slapping noises on the floor. She reached the top of the stairs like a woman half her age. Janelle followed her, footfalls of the others echoing behind her. The black pit inside of her disappeared. She shot Gary a smile, which he returned.

The meeting chamber's doors had both closed. "What time is it?" Janelle asked.

"Almost dawn. We have minutes. Faster."

Janelle quickened her pace and urged her rubbery legs to go faster. As soon as Andrina found the toppled boxes, she'd send everyone in the complex searching for her, guaranteed. Their escape boat probably wouldn't make it over the horizon before all four of Andrina's started to give chase.

Camellia waved them across the entry chamber and its gray swirl on the floor. After pressing her finger to the glowing red pad, the exit door clicked and unlocked.

Janelle stepped out into the round, damp tunnel of the cave. It smelled like freedom. Gary smiled at her, actually _smiled_. They were both going to escape.

"So your dad came here?" Leslie appeared at her side, the look on her face trying to comprehend. "How did he do that when he doesn't have a boat? He's not a sailor. And this island isn't on any map from what Kevin told me."

"Save it for later," Joey put his hand on her back and led her down the tunnel.

Janelle turned the curve after Camellia and let out a breath. A new yacht bearing the Bahamian flag hummed as it moved in between the fishing boat and Andrina's yacht. Her father and Mr. Deville stood on board, practically glowing under the lights. So it _was_ true.

"Climb aboard, all of you," Mr. Deville ordered, pointing to the front of the boat.

Janelle climbed over the rail. "Dad!" She launched herself into a hug. She'd never been so glad to see him in her life. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, overcome with emotion and preparing for his lecture on keeping it under control.

But it never came. He simply hugged her back and said, "Come on, honey. We don't have much time. Come below decks." He released her. "The rest of you make sure that Andrina can't use those yachts for a while." He pulled her towards a glass sliding door.

Deon emerged from below decks, face sagging from lack of sleep, and passed them. "I agree with that."

Janelle followed Leslie and her dad through the sliding door. He released her arm and sat in the booth, lips pursed together. What did she say to him? Where to start? This wasn't going to be an easy conversation. It seemed like both of them were having that problem. Even Leslie shifted as she pressed her face to a porthole.

Crashes and thumps echoed out in the cave. Deon and the others were getting their revenge on Andrina. Janelle stood frozen, waiting for him to say something, but the air only grew heavier.

Janelle joined her friend at the window, to avoid the uncomfortable conversation a little longer, but the side of Andrina's yacht blocked her view. She let her forehead rest against the cool glass as she stared at the fishing boat at the end of the dock. It looked like some kind of sleeping cave monster shrouded in the darkness. She wished the others would hurry. Andrina might be heading down to the basement right now.

The crashes stopped outside and seconds later, the sliding door slid open and Deon came through, breathing heavily but smiling. "I think we're good," he said. "We just need to--"

A faint ringing sounded through the air.

Janelle backed away from the window. That meant one thing. Andrina had discovered her escape. "Okay. That doesn't sound good. Let's go."

"It's the fire alarm," Gary said, gaze darting back and forth. "She must've pulled it when she found us gone."

A hum washed through the boat as Deon started it. The yacht lurched and righted itself as it backed away from the dock. Janelle gripped the windowsill for support. They were out of here.

The dock grew smaller as the boat turned towards the exit. Shadows danced on the walls as figures raced out of the entry tunnel.

Andrina led them in her gray suit. She stopped in front of her ruined yachts, two of which were sinking into the water, and stared after them. Others gathered around her, figures in pajamas and suits. Kevin took off his sunglasses and dropped them to the dock.

Deon steered them through the cave, and a rock wall blocked Andrina and her cronies from view. "I hope I never see you again," Janelle muttered, meaning every word of it down the core of her being.

Gray light surrounded the boat, but it was the most beautiful light she'd ever seen. They were out. They burst out of the cave's mouth, leaving a trail of foaming water behind them. A faint orange lined the horizon to the east.

Joey sighed in relief and Leslie sagged against a folding closet door. Mr. Deville collapsed into the booth, chest heaving.

Gary moved over, wrapping his arm around her as if to hold her up. "You okay?" His hazel eyes were just as gorgeous now, maybe even more so. It seemed that some of the darkness inside him had cleared up, leaving a glow in its place. A horrible chapter of his life had passed.

Janelle couldn't get her quivering knees to stop. Had Camellia waited five more minutes to bail her out, she never would have made it off Alara. Well, not in the way she wanted. She faced the woman she'd feared and hated yesterday. "Thank you."

Camellia gave her a weak smile. "No problem. I'll have to take you out shopping sometime. I missed a lot of years with you. Things could have been a lot different."

Footsteps approached and her father's warm breath blew against the back of her neck. Gary let go and he pulled her close. "Janelle, I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything. Most of this is my fault."

"It's okay. I'm not mad. I understand why you did it," she said, hoping to end the Big Awkward Conversation now. She didn't want to discuss Andrina or the fact that the mother from her photo had been a lie. The pain inside her needed to heal a bit first. "Where did you get this boat?"

"One of Deon's human friends let us borrow it. We made the guy think we were going to miss some fishing trip we'd planned for years, so he felt sorry for us." His tone dropped. "We need to talk more about the family thing later. You see, with Andrina being your biological mother, there's an implication that I've had no choice but to prepare you for since you were very young."

There. He'd confirmed the worst. Janelle couldn't stop the words. "You lied about Mom."

He gave her a pat on the arm. "Tina _was_ your mother, Janelle. Not biologically, but your mother, and the only real mother you ever had. We met when I moved you up to Michigan. She loved you and wanted to raise you as her own. And do you know what?"

"What?"

"Your mother knew what we were. And she didn't care."

"She didn't?" Janelle looked up at him, thunderstruck. "You're not lying about that?"

Her father didn't look away or fiddle with his sleeve or do any of the things he'd done back in Florida. "No. I'm not."

He was telling the truth this time. Janelle let a smile creep onto her face. A horrible darkness inside her thinned, and--

"Faster!" Joey ran up the yacht's hallway, glasses crooked on his face. He stopped next to Gary. "They're coming out of the cave right now. Doesn't look good."

"How far back? How many on board?" Her father released her and disappeared down the hall, every inch commanding and serious. "I thought we made that impossible."

"I don't know. A mile? It's too dark to see." Joey pressed his face against the glass.

Janelle and Gary joined him. She pressed her cheek against the porthole, praying that he was wrong.

"Uh, oh," Gary said.

Joey wasn't wrong.

A yellow searchlight glowed near the base of the conical island.

They had forgotten to destroy the fishing boat.

A hand took her arm—Mr. Deville's. "Come on. We've got to remove the brainwashing. This could be the last chance. Then if Andrina gets you, you won't do what she wants."

He was right.

"And how?" Janelle's voice came out higher than usual. "I can't exactly sleep right now. This isn't too relaxing."

"She's right," Camellia said. "Hypnosis can't work when you're all tense. Here, I'll go see if I can slow that other boat down. That'll help if they're farther behind us. Hank, you get the tapes ready." She yanked the sliding door open and disappeared outside.

Her father reappeared in the hallway. "Deon!" he shouted. "Full power on this thing! We're maybe half a mile ahead of them."

Deon shouted something back. Something about the tone of his voice made Janelle's stomach turn. It didn't sound good.

"What did he say?" she asked her father.

His lips pursed together. "Nothing. Come back to the cot here. We've got this under control. Just lie down and try to relax."

"Something's going on. Tell me!"

Her dad wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Janelle, please."

"Tell me." A smoldering anger rose up through her chest and spilled down into her fists, clenching them into tight balls. She wasn't going to be lied to. Not anymore.

Her father sighed. "It was a long journey here and we couldn't gas up at Alara because the alarm went off. The yacht's almost out of fuel. They'll overtake us within an hour."

### Chapter Eighteen

Janelle's stomach lurched. An hour? That was _it?_

"I tried to tell you all we needed to fuel up," Mr. Deville said, pacing up and down the narrow hallway. "We're going to have to fight."

"I'll help," Gary said. He marched over to stand beside her, determination shining in his eyes.

His presence made her stomach loosen up a bit. She was on a boat with several Tempests who actually knew how to use their powers. Among them was--

A wind whistled outside, then roared. Camellia was sending it at the fishing boat. It might work for a while. But Andrina had to be able to fight back, so this might not last.

"I've got to go up there and help," she said.

"No," her father said. "You don't know how to fight yet. You have something more important to do."

"But Leslie—"

"We'll protect her. Now go lay on the cot and close your eyes."

Her father was right. She had to do that. But after that, she'd join the fight. Leslie was still sitting in the booth, silent and pale. Her friend's life depended on this. Maybe Gary's did too, and her father's and her uncle's.

"Go, Janelle. I've got your back," Gary said. He stood in the doorway, blocking her way outside.

Janelle sucked in a deep breath as she sat on the cot. She had to relax. It might not be possible, but she had to try.

Her father seemed to have read her mind. He took Gary's place and leaned down towards her. He popped open a drawer, which held a silver cassette player and several batteries.

"Dad?" So he'd known about Operation Reckoning, too. There was no other way he would've prepped this on the way here. It softened her anger towards him a bit. It had to be why he'd taken her away the day she was born. Maybe he had been hiding all this from her for her own good. It _would_ have been better not to know anything before she dove into the ocean, after all. At least then, she wouldn't have run away and gotten into this mess.

But she wouldn't have known Gary. She wouldn't have brought her father and her uncle back together. Maybe all this _was_ worth it after all.

Maybe she could forgive him for all this after all.

He shoved a cassette in with a click. "My mother can only hold them off for so long. We're outnumbered. We've got to get this done before she catches up." He turned his gaze to her, the grays in his eyes serious. "And then when they get here, you jump overboard. It's the only way."

Jump overboard. There was no getting out of the transformation now. She might as well not do it Andrina's way, then. A strange sense of peace settled over her. It would be over soon, and might not be as bad as she'd dreaded, as long as this worked at removing the other recording from her mind.

The pillow crinkled under her head as she settled into it. Now for the hard part: drifting off. "Okay. Ready."

"Close your eyes and breathe deeply," her dad said. His voice trembled. He wasn't sure about this. _That_ really made her feel better.

Janelle did, but her pulse still raced in her ears. _Breathe, Janelle. Control yourself_. But the wind still roared outside and Deon started cussing. Leslie asked in a squeaky voice if she was going to die. Gary told her that he didn't know.

"Quiet up there!" her father yelled. "Leslie, we'll protect you. Gary, go tell Deon to shut up." He let out a breath and lowered his voice. "Think of something happy, Janelle. The time we volunteered at the soup kitchen. Your sixteenth birthday party. Anything."

Darkness swam inside her eyelids. She brought up the image of herself, Leslie, and their friends at the skating rink. The stuffed killer whale coming out of the claw machine. Her mother, leading her around the yard to pick up Easter eggs. Sanity. Normal things. Her heart slowed a little. She forced her breath to slow.

_Click_. A gentle hiss added to the whistling of the wind outside. Her father's soothing, soft voice floated out of the cassette player. "Janelle, relax and listen to me. Take a deep breath."

She did. Her father stood and stepped away. Would this even work? She wasn't going to sleep, that was for sure. Andrina had played her message on her for hours. This one might have to play even longer to erase that.

But they had nothing else. She'd better try it.

"That's it. Breathe out. Let all your tension go out with your breath. You are calm and in control of yourself."

Janelle let her weight sag into the cot and let the whistling of the wind fade into the background like it didn't matter. Maybe this would work after all.

"Incoming!" Mr. Deville yelled.

Janelle came to with a start and sat straight up. The roaring stopped as if someone had choked off the wind.

A jolt ran through the boat. The tape player flew off the counter slid down the hallway towards Gary. Everything tilted. Her stomach dropped. Janelle toppled from the cot and slammed against the cabinets. Pain raged through her shoulder as she cried out. Boxes of crackers and pasta rained down to the floor feet from her. "What is this?"

The boat righted itself. Cabinet doors slammed back shut. Leslie broke into sobbing somewhere.

"Janelle. Get up. Andrina sent a huge wave right at us." Gary appeared above her and extended his hand. "I think she's trying to capsize us so you'll change. Heck, we all will if she does. She'd like that."

"Crap." Janelle stood and let Gary wrap an arm around her, heart hammering. She waited for the wind to start above decks again.

It didn't. Only an ominous silence had taken its place.

A cold lead seemed to spread through her body. "My grandmother."

She shot away from Gary and tore past Leslie, who leaned against the wall with her arms folded. Her friend's whimpers faded behind her as bolted out of the cabin. Janelle wanted to be there for her, and felt invisible ropes trying to pull her back, but at least she knew Leslie was alive and unhurt. On the other hand--

The sun hung over the horizon like the giant red eye of a Cyclops, and the strongest tingle yet swept through Janelle's body. Something beckoned her closer to the sparkling water. She had to release her power or she was going to go insane... _No!_ Gritting her teeth, she looked away, focusing on a porthole as she ran down the deck. Gary's footfalls thudded against the deck behind her.

Her dad and uncle crouched down near the railing. Camellia's slippers stuck out from between them. "You'll be okay, Mom. Just hang in there. We'll get this bandaged," Mr. Deville said.

Bandaged. Not good. Janelle pushed in between them.

Camellia lay against the railing. A crimson trail flowed down the left side of her face from a gash above her temple. "Andrina's...out of control. Now she's hurting other Tempests," she said, looking up at her father with wet eyes. "Forgive me for the arranged marriage, Lucas. I had no idea." She faced Janelle and blinked away the tears. "You deserve a better mother."

"Janelle! Get back below decks." Her dad pointed to the door. "You could get splashed if there's another wave."

"Come on. He's right." Gary took her arm.

The fishing boat was getting closer. Its pulleys stuck up like the spines of some beast. A single figure stood at the front as water parted around it.

"We've gotta get her under, too," Janelle said.

"Then go. You bandage her and don't come up here again." A faint growl crept into her father's voice, growing worse with each word. "I'll hold them off. I don't want you to see me like this."

The gray in her father's eyes started to swirl and twist around his pupils. No. She didn't want to see him like that. She turned away.

But not fast enough to miss the water rising above Andrina's fishing boat.

The breath caught in her throat as she bumped into Gary. A mountain of water rose in front of it, blocking it from view. Another wave. It rose and drew closer as if a giant were rolling underwater. Thirty feet high...forty...it would drown the yacht for sure. When that water crashed down she'd...she'd...

Janelle's legs seemed to have turned to stone. Even Mr. Deville froze, holding his mother up as she pressed a hand to her head. The roar grew louder and filled her ears. Taller. Closer.

Her father stood his ground, facing down the wave. Another wave rose in front of him. The yacht dipped in its wake. Janelle's stomach rose up into her chest. She scrambled for the railing, something to hold onto.

He raised both arms like he was pushing an invisible wall away. His wave lurched forward, rising as it raced out to meet Andrina's.

"Janelle, come on!" Mr. Deville broke his paralysis and took her arm with his free hand.

A deafening crash sounded through the air and shook the boat as the two waves met. An explosion of water rose up. Janelle gripped the railing as the boat lurched.

The tingling came back in a rush, and now it was worse. Stronger. Overpowering. Her legs ached to jump over the rail. _No!_ She shook her head to clear out the urge. It refused to let go. She might resist it for another few hours—if she was lucky.

"Joey! Go get the first aid kit," Mr. Deville ordered as he helped his mother down the stairs and into the cabin. "She hit her head on the rail. Might have a concussion."

Janelle dashed inside after him and shut the door, standing against it for good measure. But the tingling only got stronger. No, no...she had to get back out there. And do what she had to do. She had to get to the water. Her legs made to turn her around, but... _no, Janelle!_ Losing control...she was losing control. Her knuckles paled as she gripped the windowsill to stop herself.

Gary appeared and clamped his hands down on her shoulders. "Away from the door, Janelle."

Even his grip did nothing to stop it. "Let go of me!" Janelle thrashed against his grip. A breeze whipped through the inside of the cabin, blowing papers off a nearby table and swirling them in the air.

"Hold her down," Camellia said from somewhere.

Janelle broke loose, bolting for the door, eager to make this stop. Footfalls thudded behind her. She yanked the door open so hard it squealed and came off its track.

"Get back inside!" Her teacher squeezed into the doorway, pushing her back. "Come back to the cot and I'll find the tape player."

Something about his voice made her stop. The tingle melted away and the breeze died.

Janelle let out a huge breath and a croak. That had been _way_ too close. "This urge. How do I make it stop?"

"You don't." Mr. Deville's gray eyes widened as he stared down at her. "It only goes away after you change. I'll make sure you don't go anywhere for the time being." He pushed her back to the cot. "Time's shorter than ever."

Another crash sounded outside. The yacht trembled in the shockwave, and it was worse this time. Her father had blocked another one of Andrina's waves, but he was losing. She was getting closer every second.

Leslie backed into the booth as they passed. "Janelle, your eyes didn't look right a minute ago. Are you okay?"

"Fine." Big lie.

Mr. Deville bent over to snatch the tape player and a loose battery. "Alright. Let's pray this thing still works."

"Hank." Deon's voice cut through the air as the hum of the boat faded and died. He appeared in a doorway to the front. "We're in some deep crap, my friend. You up for a fight?"

Janelle's stomach lurched. There was no way to do this in time now.

Her teacher sighed. "We're out of fuel, aren't we?"

Out of fuel. And out of luck.

Deon wiped his palms on his pants and ran out the sliding door. "Lucas! We're coming out to back you up!"

"I'm out of commission," Camellia said, dabbing a towel to her head. Joey leaned over her, but she waved him away. "You go. I can hold this myself."

Gary headed for the doorway after Joey, stopped, and turned to face her. His chest heaved up and down as he spoke. "Janelle, I have to say—"

"Go!" Camellia yelled.

Gary followed the others outside as another crash rattled the boat. He grabbed the railing to keep from going overboard.

"Careful!" she yelled out after him. Her stomach ached and her limbs turned into rubber. God, what if he got hurt out there? Or worse? And it would all be because of her.

A sob started creeping up in her throat. If she wound up doing what Andrina wanted, she wouldn't deserve him, anyway. She wouldn't deserve anything. She'd be a mass murderer. A monster.

Leslie hugged her knees in the booth, eyes big as she breathed shallow with a wheezing sound. Janelle wished she could give her a hug, but what good would it do?

"What now?" she asked instead.

"You're not going anywhere after that display you just gave us," Camellia said, folding the bloody towel and pressing it against her face again. "Sit next to me, would you? It's not like you can do anything about the brainwashing with all this fighting going on. There's always a chance we could drive them off and have you listen to the tape in a while." Her tone didn't sound too hopeful. "And you won't be any good to Gary out there, especially if you go overboard."

Janelle forced herself to sit and tune out the shouting, crashing, and roaring going on somewhere on the deck. It was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Gary was out there, fighting. Fighting for her, while she couldn't even help. She was in here, worthless. But Camellia was right. She'd just end up overboard if she went out there, and Gary wouldn't want that. And this might be her last moment of sanity.

Leslie whimpered as a loud bang sounded outside.

"Don't worry. We'll get through this," Janelle told her.

Another bang. Another whimper.

A metallic smell invaded her nostrils—Camellia's blood. Janelle winced and made to help her hold the towel up.

"Oh, don't feel sorry for me." Camellia held up an arm. "I'm not a nice woman. I killed hundreds of people and ruined lives, and I enjoyed it. And some of this is my doing."

Her doing? If she hadn't busted them out of the freezer, Andrina would've had her already. "You...you got me off Alara," Janelle stuttered.

Nothing from Camellia. The old woman leaned back and rested her head on the wall. Even Leslie had gone quiet.

The calm before the storm, Janelle thought.

The wind outside died. Then there came a new noise: the hum of a motor and the parting of water. It only meant one thing.

Andrina had arrived.

### Chapter Nineteen

"You hide, girl." Camellia pointed to Leslie and then down the hall. "Janelle, you find a room and barricade yourself in it. I'll buy you some time."

"I can't leave you." She couldn't just go cower somewhere and let everyone else decide her fate. That had happened enough. And there was no way she was going to let Camellia fight by herself.

"Go!" Camella took her arms and pushed her towards the door. "You need to protect your friend. Don't worry about me."

Leslie stood against the wall, so pale she looked like she might pass out. Camellia was right. Leslie wouldn't last long in her state.

Janelle bolted to her friend and took her arm. "Come on, Leslie. Snap out of it!"

Leslie shook her head and stood without a word. All the color had gone from her face.

Camellia pulled herself up by taking hold of the booth. She hurried over to the closet and spread her arms across it. "I said hide. They're almost here."

"Janelle?" Leslie asked, looking out the doors.

Janelle followed her gaze. The brown hull of the fishing boat drifted up alongside the yacht and stopped with a splashing sound. A wooden ramp descended from it with a bang. Andrina would board any second.

"You're not taking her!" Mr. Deville shouted from outside.

Janelle darted into the pale blue bedroom, pulling Leslie along and slamming the door behind her. "I'll barricade the door. Here," she said, gripping a bedpost. Within seconds, she had the bed on its side up against the entrance. "Now shut off the light."

Leslie ran over to the switch. A click later, near-darkness filled the room. It wasn't dim enough to hide Leslie's slack jaw or her wide eyes. "Wow. I guess you weren't kidding about the strength," she managed.

At least she was starting to talk again. It was more like the Leslie she knew. The Leslie she needed to protect. Andrina had no reason to let Leslie live now. Janelle had disobeyed her. If Janelle got thrown into the ocean now, Leslie wouldn't see the end of the day.

Janelle shushed her and held her breath. Her legs threatened to go out from under her. Muffled voices and thumps sounded from somewhere. A fight. Someone cried out as footfalls thudded into the boat and grew louder. Her stomach dropped. What if it was Gary? Or her dad?

"They're coming," Leslie said. "Janelle—you're still my best friend. I don't care what species you are."

"And you're still mine. I don't care what Kevin forced you to say. We're going to get out of this." She couldn't help but feel a moment of triumph. Andrina was wrong after all. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

They hugged.

Maybe it was for the last time.

Another thump sounded from outside. Janelle steeled herself and looked around the room. There weren't any windows for Leslie to climb out of. Janelle thought about breaking down a wall, but that might sink the boat. They only had a cubby for a bathroom nearby.

"Leslie," she said, letting go. "Hide in there. Go. I want you to survive today."

"Janelle--"

"You can't help me this time," she said, staring at her. "Those people out there are _not_ like me. They'll kill you if they see you."

Footfalls grew closer. They were inside. Janelle faced the door.

"You're not taking my granddaughter!" Camellia shouted.

"Move away from the closet, Camellia. Let's not be unreasonable," Andrina said. She was right out in the hall. "I don't want to spill any Tempest blood if I don't have to, especially yours. It would be a shame to waste your great power, but I will act if I have to."

So Camellia was making Andrina think she was in the closet. It would buy them maybe two minutes. Leslie had vanished. She'd taken her advice and hidden inside the cubby, squeezing in next to the toilet. She pulled the curtain and waited.

If Leslie made it, that would be something.

"No. She's not a weapon to be used. Your plan's barbaric, Andrina. You have no regard for the Natural Law. I'm not going to be quiet about it any more."

"You are calling me barbaric?" Andrina broke out laughing. "You, the killer of over five hundred people?"

Silence fell for a few seconds.

Camellia's voice rose. "You're right about me. I won't deny it. But at least I love my family. Don't try to help me, Janelle."

A sick feeling blossomed in her stomach. _No!_

A crash followed with the creaking of hinges. Andrina let out a grunt of triumph. "She's mine."

They were hurting her grandmother. The words exploded from Janelle's mouth before she could stop them. "Leave her alone!" The world blurred. Everything seemed to fall away. She yanked the bed away from the door, letting it crash against the wall.

The door flew open a second later. Andrina stood behind it, smiling.

Behind her, Camellia slumped against the closet door, gasping for breath and holding her throat. Her eyes bulged like a frog's. Her skin had turned gray. Andrina had actually hurt her.

"Janelle Morgen. It's time." Andrina took a bold step into the room.

"That isn't my last name!" She had to get to Camellia. Janelle charged, pushing past the Tempest High Leader.

Kevin and Ivanna crammed into the hallway, blocking her. Hands clenched her arms like steel traps.

"Let go of me!" She tugged against their grips, trying to aim a punch at Kevin. It was no use. She couldn't fight two Tempests, even if she was the strongest. Her grandmother—

"Now how are we going to do this?" Kevin asked, gripping her arm tighter. "She's going to fight."

Andrina backed away, coming very close to stepping on Camellia. "Well, I was counting on the fridge to keep her weak, but thanks to my ex we can't do that. We'll have to use the cage and the ice cubes."

Janelle stopped thrashing. Cage? Ice cubes? A cold rock seemed to settle in her stomach, as if she'd swallowed a bunch already.

"Now keep a good grip on her and quickly bring her over to our boat. We don't know if the others will break free," Andrina ordered. "Though I don't think it's likely. And we'll find the human girl later. It's not like she has anywhere to go."

Andrina moved to the side to let Janelle's captors to pull her through the doorway. Camellia lay slumped against the wall, arms limp against her suit. Her head had lolled down onto her chest. Was she still breathing? Janelle couldn't tell. A horrible pang she hadn't thought possible squeezed her heart.

Ivanna and Kevin pulled her past before she could look closer. "What did you do to her?" she yelled.

But Andrina didn't answer. She walked ahead through the yacht's living room, keeping her nose up.

"Why can't we just shove her off the boat?" Ivanna asked. "That's easier. I've done enough in the past few days."

"You want to be standing right there when she changes?" Andrina stopped in the doorway outside. "Curtis still has a broken arm from when Gary did. And I don't want any of you injured at the start of our takeover."

Janelle hung her head. She couldn't breathe. Operation Reckoning tightened around her like a noose.

Andrina yanked the sliding door open and they stepped out into the morning air.

They were outnumbered. Bad.

The two black-haired men who worked on Andrina's yacht stood on the deck, holding Gary by both arms. Joey lay up against the side of the cabin, and blood ran out of his crooked nose. He stared into the air, stunned and blinking.

"Janelle!" Gary lurched against his captors. "Let her go. Let me do Operation Reckoning instead. You wanted me to make up for my failure, didn't you?"

Andrina smiled at him. "Oh, you know that's not possible. You're nowhere near strong enough."

"Come on!" Gary thrashed again.

Andrina nodded at the two men, and one of them clamped his hand over Gary's mouth, muffling the rest.

"Leave him alone!" Janelle yelled, pulling against Ivanna. At least Gary was unharmed. Joey didn't look like his life was in danger, at least. But what about--

"Dad?" Janelle searched the deck, all the hope inside her flattening like roadkill. At least a dozen men and women in pajamas held Mr. Deville and Deon prisoner against the wall. Farther down, four suited Elder Council members stood around her father, forming a tight square around him. She glanced closer. All four of them held his arms.

"Is this necessary, Ma'am?" an older man in front of her father asked. His suit clung to his skin like a wave had hit him head on.

Andrina jabbed a finger towards him. "Yes, it is. Now bring the others on deck so we can make sure they don't try anything funny. And we're towing this boat back to Alara. We will need a replacement for what we lost."

Her dad's gaze fell on her. "Janelle!" He thrashed against the Council members, hair wild and eyes wide. "Fight! Do what you have to do!"

His words rang in her ears. Fight. How, with two dozen Tempests against her?

"This way," Andrina ordered, striding up the wooden ramp to the fishing boat. Ivanna tugged Janelle's arm and sidestepped up the ramp while Kevin pushed her from behind. The ocean rippled between the boats. She felt dizzy.

Janelle stumbled over the end of the ramp and onto the soaked deck of the fishing boat. More feet thudded against the ramp behind her.

_Fight._ How?

A shark cage sat on the other side of a puddle, waiting for her. Its thick steel bars dripped and its door stood wide open. A cable connected it to one of the yellow pulleys, and a huge bucket of ice sat next to it.

If they got her in there, she and thousands of others were doomed.

Andrina walked across the puddle, sending little ripples across it with her heels. "Bring our captives over here," she barked, pointing to a dry space between the water and the railing. "I want them to watch my success. Especially Lucas. Put him near the front."

They were going to make her father watch this. Up close.

She couldn't let that happen.

Figures paraded up the ramp, Deon and his three captors the first among them. A wiry man in pajama shorts nudged him from behind and said, "I didn't get rudely woken up to dawdle around here all day."

Gary came next. He didn't even look up as his captors led him along. He'd given up hope. A pang shot through her at the sight of him staring down at the deck, bangs hanging in his face. Would he even look at her ever again after the Operation?

Joey dragged his feet and groaned as Alec and a middle-aged woman pulled him along. Mr. Deville and her father came up in the rear, guarded by the suited members of the Elder Council.

Janelle turned away as far as Kevin and Ivanna would allow her. Their grips tightened on her arms, but she barely noticed the pain. She couldn't face her dad now, not when this was all her fault. She should have listened to him. Maybe he really had kept her in his thoughts after all.

"A part of me was hoping that you could join us for this moment, Lucas," Andrina said in her sugary voice, but underneath it was hurt, anger, and revenge. "Oh, why the tears?"

Janelle squinted at her father. She couldn't help it. Tears streamed down his cheeks. She'd never seen him cry before. Bile rose in her throat like he might vomit.

Andrina began pacing past the small crowd in front of her. "I have one last word before Janelle begins her work. I would like to thank Gary Plankett for making this wonderful moment possible."

Janelle felt her jaw go slack. Gary? _What?_

She faced him, expecting to see some recognition on his face. There was none. His mouth had dropped open, too. He stared up in terror. Looked at her. Shook his head.

"Oh, don't look so shocked, Gary." Andrina stopped in front of him. "Time was short and it was necessary to find my daughter. I knew her time to change was close, and that Lucas would move her back to the coast before it happened. So I made a special tape for _you_ to listen to before your transformation and played it while you were sleeping. You never knew. In it was my instructions to seek out Janelle and change back right in front of her."

"What?" Gary leaned forward against his captors' grips with huge eyes. "That isn't true!"

"Oh, but it is." Andrina grabbed his chin. "How else was I going to find her? I knew Janelle would see your birthmark and visit you in the hospital. It was only a matter of waiting, and she accepted the bait." She took a few steps back into the puddle. "You didn't think everything falling into place like this was mere coincidence, did you?"

The Tempest High Leader stared at the crowd. Scattered applause rose up.

_Gary_ had gotten all this started?

It made sense now. A horrible sense.

Gary sagged. Looked down at the ground. Janelle felt no anger towards him. It hadn't been his fault. But he wouldn't look at her. The guilt weighed down on him like a cruise ship strapped to his feet.

Andrina whirled around and smiled. "You're going to make me very proud, Janelle. Here, I'll get the door." She made for the shark cage and held the door open.

Icy terror raced through her veins. Another tingle started to spread through her limbs. "I...I can break out of that," Janelle stammered. She needed to try something to stall. Anything.

"Sure you can, when the ice we pour on you wears off." Andrina waved her closer. "But by then you'll be dangling over the ocean. And I've had this model specially reinforced as it was _only_ designed to deal with sharks. Now, I suggest everyone stand on the other side of the boat as we lower her into the water."

Gary's voice met her ears. "Janelle, I'm sorry! I never meant for this to happen!"

Ivanna and Kevin dragged her closer to the cage. The door stood open like a mouth ready to swallow her. All the strength went from her legs. She couldn't walk. She couldn't scream. She—

"Andrina!"

Everyone stopped. Janelle jumped in place. It couldn't be.

Camellia stood by the ramp, one arm slung over Leslie's shoulder for support. She wobbled in place. Balling her fists, she glared at Andrina with eyes filled with raging clouds. "Be sure you finish the job next time."

A growl escaped Andrina's throat. "Are you challenging me?"

"No! Get out of there!" Janelle's voice rang high in her ears as she thrashed against her captors' grips. Her grandmother stood no chance in her condition. And neither did Leslie, period.

"Don't look, Janelle." Camellia advanced, eyes locked with Andrina's.

But Janelle couldn't look away. Leslie backed down the ramp. The crowd on the other side of them cringed. Mr. Deville blanched. Janelle tried to look away. But she couldn't.

Her grandmother ran forward to meet Andrina, who raised her arms to block the attack. No use. Andrina came off her feet and flew back into the side of a pulley with a loud clang. She crumpled to the deck and lay still.

Gasps erupted from the crowd, but nobody came forward to help the Tempest High Leader up.

Camellia staggered towards her, grimacing with each step. "As a member of the Elder Council, I call for you to step down from power. You've got no right to harm your own kind."

Andrina lifted herself from the deck and wobbled in place. The gray in her eyes spun around her pupils. "Camellia, please. Now is not the time for this. Follow me, and I'll spare your life."

No. Camellia wouldn't back down. She needed help. Janelle lurched forward against the grips of Ivanna and Kevin. No use. Her left hand started to go numb as Kevin gripped it even tighter.

Her grandmother faced her, eyes spinning and churning. "You're the strongest of us, Janelle. Act like it."

And with those words hanging in the air, she charged at Andrina once more.

But Andrina was ready this time. She reached up with one hand to catch her. Janelle squeezed her eyes shut as she took Camellia by the throat and lifted her off the deck. She couldn't watch.

A gasp. And then there was a snap and a heavy thud.

### Chapter Twenty

At first, only the sound of Mr. Deville's sobs filled the air. Then the murmurs started.

"...illegal to kill another Tempest..."

"What?"

"...must have gone nuts, the old woman."

Janelle opened her eyes on the nightmare she'd tried to shut out.

God.

Camellia lay on her side with Andrina grinding her high heel into her shoulder. Her limp hand sat on the pavement only a few feet from Mr. Deville. Her uncle's chest heaved up and down with every sob.

"Would anyone else like to try this?" Andrina beckoned. She gave Camellia a kick and sent her rolling onto her stomach. "A sad day, this is. We've started fighting amongst ourselves now. If we don't stay united, I fear for our survival."

Janelle's fists clenched. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Andrina had just--she'd just--

People bit their lips and glanced at each other. Her dad wrestled against the Elder Council, teeth clenched. Gary stared with huge eyes. But no one dared come forward. No one wanted to be the first.

A faint roar started in the back of Janelle's mind and grew louder like an oncoming train.

Never again could she let Andrina take another life. Any life, human or Tempest. "I would."

Andrina folded her arms and smiled. "I don't think you're in a position to do anything right now, sweetie."

The roar grew louder in her mind. The puddle of water— _ocean water_ —glared at her in the sunlight. The crowd stood right at its edge...and Gary's shoes were almost touching it.

Andrina was about to find out how wrong she was.

"Gary," Janelle whispered. "Splash me."

He glanced at her with big eyes. "Huh?"

"Just do it!"

Gary swung one foot back as if to punt a football. His captors scrambled to block his foot, but too late.

"No!" Andrina charged forward, heels clicking against the dock.

A silver blob of water raced up for Janelle and washed over her skin.

The train hit. Roaring and tingling filled Janelle's body. Her birthmark went on fire. A growl escaped her throat as she thrashed against her captors' grips. Ivanna fell to the side and Kevin backed away. She was free.

Andrina stopped a few feet away. "Don't play this game with me. You won't win." A stiff breeze snapped over the deck in warning.

Tremors racked Janelle's body and her voice came out like a screaming wind. _"You killed my grandmother!"_

Andrina put her hands on her hips like it was nothing. "She attacked me, Janelle. Everyone here saw that."

It seemed as if a little toothpick holding her brain up had snapped. She rushed at Andrina. Water splashed around her feet.

But Andrina reached out and seized her arms, stopping her in her tracks. Her grip tightened, sending an ache up Janelle's arms.

"Don't make me break these," she growled, pulling Janelle off the ground. "Because I will if I have to. I've been waiting years for the Operation and you're _not_ going to spoil it."

The roaring in her head started to fade. The pain in her arms went from an ache to a scream. The effect of the water was wearing off. She tried to bring it back. Nothing. So she struggled to yank her arms from Andrina's monster grip. Still nothing. If she couldn't, then—

Andrina dragged her backwards, towards the cage. "Kevin, by the ice! Ivanna, take the pulley!"

Janelle struggled to yank her arms from her grip. But no use. Her feet dangled inches above the deck. She had nothing to push off of. Except—

"No!" She kicked her feet until she found Andrina's shins.

The Tempest High Leader wobbled and cried out. Her grip loosened—

And Janelle tumbled to the puddle. Water seeped in through her pants. The roar filled her being again and her birthmark came back to life. It was power, and it was all at her disposal.

She shot up and faced Andrina, who rubbed her leg with a grimace. Wind snapped across the deck, blowing her hair into her face. The ocean churned around them. The boat lurched side to side. People screamed. The crowd fell apart and went for the railings.

Janelle stiffened to keep her footing. The roar filled her head. _She_ was doing all this.

"Save this for later. You'll have plenty of time to show everyone your power," Andrina shouted, bracing against the wind. "Though I am impressed. Anyone of my stock would have to be a natural at this."

Andrina looked over her shoulder. At something. At someone.

Janelle spun around.

Alec and the other black-haired man crept closer in ambush, but stopped as her gaze landed on them.

"Back off!"

Her voice washed over the deck in a roar. People jumped. A blast of wind whipped around her and shot at Alec, shoving him back towards her uncle.

Mr. Deville's eyes widened, but not at Alec. "Watch out!"

She'd turned her back on Andrina.

A gray-sleeved arm wrapped around her neck, constricting her throat. "You fell for that too easy," Andrina said, pulling her back. "Now be a good girl and help us rise to power."

Andrina pulled her closer to the cage. She had seconds to act, before the roar faded again. "Let go!" She raised one foot and brought it down on Andrina's heel with full force.

_Crunch_.

A howl rang in her ears. Andrina's arm loosened and Janelle pulled her head through. To safety. To freedom.

"Hey!" Kevin yelled, rushing towards her. Sunglasses bounced on his face as he pushed running bodies out of the way. A woman fell to the deck in his wake, dragging Ivanna with her.

Janelle took a breath and the wind gathered around her, spinning and screaming and pushing Andrina out of the way. People scattered and backed off, even her father, but she had no time to care what they thought of her. Kevin stopped. His mouth fell open. He wasn't even going to try.

She was doing this all. By herself.

Janelle raised her arms to shoot a blast of wind at him. But someone rushed in front of her, feet thudding on the deck. Black hair bounced up and down. Gary.

Gary rushed through the wind and at Kevin.

Kevin raised his arms, but too late. Two bodies collided and rushed for the railing. A pair of sunglasses shot across the deck as a flailing foot hit them. Kevin cried out as he toppled overboard and hit the water with a splash.

Gary pointed to the cage door. "Now!"

Janelle turned. Andrina stood feet from the cage, grimacing in agony and grabbing her broken foot. Kevin yelled for someone to drop him a rope. Everyone else ran around in confusion. It was now or never.

The roar in Janelle's head—and the wind around her—started fading. _Now!_ She raised her hands, and the wind did what she wanted this time. It rushed at Andrina like water from a fire hose, whipping at her clothes and sending her tumbling back into the shark cage. She screamed as she landed, but the wind drowned her out.

Gary slammed the door and fumbled with all its locks. "Throw the ice on her! I'll get the pulley."

The roar in her head died. They didn't have long to act. Janelle seized the bucket, raised it, and let the contents tumble into the cage.

Ice cubes rained down on Andrina's head and gathered around her feet. She cried out again and brushed them off her. "What are you _doing?_ My foot's broken! Someone, let me out of here and call the doctor!"

Janelle ignored her and pulled locks across the door. There. This might hold her while they figured out what to do.

Silence had fallen over the deck.

Everyone had stopped. Her dad, her uncle—everybody. Even the Elder Council stared at the sight in front of them, uncertain. If the crowd attacked, they would be far outnumbered. She looked over to Gary, but he was already moving, cranking on the lever and hoisting the cage in the air.

Andrina seethed as the cable squeaked and grew taut above her. "What is the meaning of this?" The cage lifted more. "Put me down! This is pointless. Oh, when I get out of here I'm going to—"

"You won't get out of there. I won't let you hurt Janelle." Gary looked down as he turned the lever in grinding circles, as if he were averting his eyes. Behind him, the other Tempests watched in awe, but no one moved. "You can't change when you go underwater until Janelle does."

A jolt ran through Janelle at his words. Kevin splashed in the water somewhere nearby.

He was planning to kill Andrina. In front of everyone. It filled her with a strange, empty, hollow feeling, like the world was turning gray and hard to make out anymore. "Gary, you don't have to make anything up to me."

Andrina looked to the ocean and gripped the metal bars. She knew. Ice cubes rained to the deck. Her eyes widened in horror. "No! You can't! I'm Tempest High Leader." She clawed at the thick bars, but they only gave an inch. The ice had made her too weak to break out. "Janelle, stop him. Don't let him kill your mother!"

More silence. Camellia lay on the deck, where Andrina had thrown her like a piece of trash.

Andrina cared for nobody. But...Janelle just couldn't. "Gary--"

Her father appeared at his side before she could finish. "Gary, hold it right there."

Gary let go of the lever. Andrina dangled eight feet above the deck, shivering and standing on one leg. She stared down at Janelle's dad with huge eyes, pleading.

"Dad?" Janelle asked. Her voice had returned to normal. What? Why was he—

He faced her for a second. His eyes were still bloodshot, and his face, tired. "I won't have her blood on either of your hands. Step away from the controls, Gary."

Gary did.

And her father took his place. He turned the crank few more times and the cage holding Andrina rose another foot.

Janelle swallowed. It would end now. She couldn't watch. But she couldn't look away.

"Lucas!" Andrina's shrill voice washed over the deck as she worked at prying loose another pair of bars. "You were my husband. Remember the love we shared."

Her dad squeezed his eyes shut and trembled for a long time. "It was a lie. _You_ were a lie." He slammed his fist down on a button.

The pulley swung the cage over the water. Kevin splashed in its shadow.

An arm wrapped around Janelle from the side. Gary's. She let him pull her close. Numbness filled her being. The world sounded distant around her. It all felt like a movie, or a nightmare she'd wake up from.

"All of you. Do something!" Andrina ordered the scattered crowd. She reached through the bars and clawed at the locks. "Please!"

Janelle whirled around. The Elder Council watched with arms folded behind their backs. They'd made their decision. An older man nodded at her father, mouth bent into a solemn frown. The others all watched with mouths agape. But no one, not even Ivanna, came forward.

At last, an older man, one of the suited members of the Elder Council, spoke. "We cannot," he said in a voice barely under control. "The punishment for murdering another Tempest is death. The sentence must be carried out."

"But I'm Tempest High Leader, and she attacked me. I--"

Her father slammed his fist down on the control panel again.

With a squeal, the pulley lever spun and the cage dropped.

Kevin's scream pierced the air before a metallic thud and a splash silenced him forever.

The cage lurched to the side as it began to sink. Andrina clawed at the top, gasping for air as water foamed around her chest. "No! Please! I don't want to drown!"

Janelle almost ran for her. Almost.

Tina was your mother, Janelle.

She gripped her dolphin necklace tight and held her breath, burying her eyes in Gary's shirt.

There was a watery sucking sound, a scream...and then nothing.

Darkness swam in front of Janelle's eyelids. For minutes? For days? Gary rubbed his hand down the back of her shirt. When she opened her eyes, she found her father feet away, grasping the cable itself and pulling it until it snapped in two. The broken cable whipped over the rail and disappeared into the foaming ocean.

Somewhere, a seagull cackled.

Her dad raised a hand to his forehead, leaned against the pulley, and fell to his knees. He stayed there for an eternity, unmoving.

Janelle stared down at her shoes and at beam of yellow sunlight creeping over the deck. Only the sound of the water lapping against the boat filled the air. No tears came. No sobs. Her biological mother had just drowned, trapped in rising water like her eight hundred victims, and she felt...nothing.

Gary released her arm. Her dad's voice quavered as he hugged her from the side. "It's..it's over, Janelle. We're free."

Free. No Operation Reckoning. No thousands of deaths.

She leaned against his warmth, unable to speak and unable to cry. Everything had gone numb. The world seemed to fade away like an old painting. It no longer mattered.

Until the footsteps tapped closer all around her.

Janelle's breath caught. The other Tempests closed in, the suited Elder Council members leading them. Mr. Deville and Deon walked behind them, holding Joey up by his arms. Every set of eyes had landed on her. Staring. And accusing?

She shrank against her father, heart pounding. They'd come all this way to get ripped apart by Andrina's followers. "What now?"

"It's okay, honey. Stand tall." He spoke in a soft voice and gave her a pat on the back. "You're Tempest High Leader now."

"What?" she exploded. Tempest High Leader? "Me?"

Her father nudged her towards the crowd. "Of course. You're Andrina's only heir. Go ahead."

The Elder Council stopped two steps away, eyes locked with hers. And the three men and three women went down to their knees, bowing their heads.

And one by one, the other Tempests sank to their knees as the sun rose higher on a new day.

* * * * *

"You finally awake, honey?" Her father leaned down over her, the early morning sun shining behind him. Leslie stood against the wall behind him, the color returned to her face. Her friend was far more relaxed today.

Janelle blinked the sleep from her eyes and shifted under the covers of the same boat cot she'd tried to sleep in yesterday morning. The yacht swayed gently underneath as she eyed the tape player. "Yeah. Did it actually work this time?"

"Hopefully," Leslie said. "You like, listened to it all night. It almost put _me_ to sleep. Whatever crap that...that woman made you listen to must be erased by now."

Janelle agreed. Even without the tape, she would've passed out last night. The day before went by in a blur. Joey needed medical attention for his broken nose, and was taken on a speedboat to the Bahamas. Leslie called home to tell her mom she was alive. Her grandmother's body had to go back to Alara for a memorial service. And the Elder Council had made arrangements for the start of Janelle's rule. They'd made Janelle stay below decks for the rest of the day yesterday, and she was still here, floating out on the ocean that still wanted to claim her. By now, if she caught a whiff of the water, she'd jump in. The urge had gotten too strong.

It all seemed like a dream now, with the sun pouring into the yacht and Leslie here, just like in her old life.

Her father tapped the tape recorder. "You slept since seven last night, so this must have erased Andrina's suggestions for sure. Your natural path has to be restored by now, so whatever you do, it won't be destroying New York City."

"That's always good to know," Janelle said, tossing the pillow to the side and leaning against the wall of her cubby. Now she could leave Operation Reckoning behind her like some horrible nightmare.

Something like that now would never happen again.

She said so.

_Tempest High Leader._ The words wouldn't get out of her head.

Wow, she'd come a long way since a few days ago. It _had_ to be a dream.

Mr. Deville appeared around the corner with Elise, one of the Elder Council women. She smiled as she looked at Janelle and fluffed up her white hair. "Ma'am, how are you feeling? I know you had a long day yesterday."

Janelle sat up. How was she supposed to feel after all that? The loss of her newfound grandmother left a hole inside her somewhere, but the rest..."I don't know."

"This has been a big shock for all of us," her father piped in. "Janelle had no idea about anything a few days ago. I've been preparing her, but I had no idea she'd take the throne so soon. We have a lot to work out. And with my mother and all—" He didn't finish.

Janelle wiped fresh tears away, hoping that no one had seen. Camellia might have killed hundreds, but at the end, did she regret it? Maybe she'd been trying to atone for it by facing Andrina and stopping Operation Reckoning. The thought left an ache in her that wanted to have another chance to know her a little better.

Without Camellia, Andrina would have won.

"Certainly, Lucas. I understand. We'll be here to help both of you adjust," Elise said, clasping her hands and leaning against a cabinet. "I'm so relieved that monster's gone. I had the most horrible feeling she was planning to get rid of the Elder Council and turn into a dictator."

So Camellia hadn't been the only one against her. But she'd been the only one brave enough to do something. Maybe she wasn't the leader of a race of murdering psychos after all.

"I'm sure she was." Janelle brought a hand to her face and stared into it for a while. A few days ago she'd run from Gary on the beach, unable to believe the truth. Now she was Tempest High Leader and responsible for almost two thousand Tempests around the world, according to the Elder Council. It was too much to absorb. "Dad," she said, looking up and squinting against the morning light. "What's going to happen? I don't see how I'm going to go to school. Or college. When do we go home?" She glanced at Leslie, leaving far more questions unspoken. Her friend stared back, no doubt thinking along the same lines. _And what about my friends?_

He patted her on the knee. "We'll be living on Alara from now on. And we've got more than enough money now to bring in a tutor. You'll get your diploma, no problem. You can get into a _very_ good college now." He winked. "You can do this, Janelle. Lots of Tempest High Leaders have had jobs outside of politics." He smiled as Mr. Deville squashed in beside Elise and Leslie, barely leaving any room around her cubby. "She's going to make a much better leader than Andrina, that's for sure."

He actually thought she could do this, but she wasn't so sure.

Janelle swung her legs around the bed as a thought hit her. Things had changed. She could make things right. "Elise, we need to send those kids Andrina kidnapped back to their parents. You said there were two dozen on Alara? And call Gary's mom and let her know he's okay. There won't be any more reeducation programs."

She was giving orders. Janelle could hardly believe it.

Elise's wrinkles deepened as she smiled. "Of course. Oh, so many people are going to be happy to read about this in _Surge_ tomorrow."

Her father sat down next to her, glasses shining. "You're more cut out for this than you think. It'll be a lot of responsibility, but you'll travel the world with a fortune at your disposal. You've got a private jet in the Bahamas and a vacation home in Hawaii. And you're going to be living in a tropical paradise. We'll show you the rest of Alara when you get back. The beach is breathtaking." He paused. "You could even invite Leslie for a vacation if you want. It's not like she doesn't know about us now."

"That would be great," she said, sharing a smile with Leslie. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. But she felt her smile die as she recalled his words: _when you get back_. They only meant one thing.

Maybe one thing she could change now.

She stood as tall as she could, hoping she looked commanding. "I'm not going to become a hurricane. No Tempest is going to change ever again if I can help it."

Elise made a _tsk_ sound and shook her head. "Ma'am, you can't do anything outside the Natural Law. It's there to keep everything running the way it should. And it says every Tempest must become a storm when their name is up. That includes you."

Leslie's face grew pale again. Janelle couldn't meet her gaze. Her heart raced as she felt all the sunlight vanish inside her. This was a mistake. She couldn't come all this way just to have her hope yanked from her like this. She took a step back and swallowed over a lump in her throat. "If I don't change, there won't be any more hurricanes. It'll save thousands of lives."

Elise folded her arms behind her back. "No. It'll kill millions of people, ruin the planet's ecosystems, destroy livelihoods, and generally throw everything into chaos."

Janelle furrowed her brows. The words hung in the air. "Huh?"

Her father wiped his palms off on his pants. "Hank, go get those printouts. This is the talk I wanted to have with her before she ran away." He extended his hand towards her. "Come sit on the couch with me, Janelle. Leslie, you're excused. Have a safe trip back. And I want Gary to listen in, too. It might relieve some of his guilt."

Leslie went above decks to the waiting speedboat they'd called for yesterday. Deon was taking her back to civilization. She stopped in the doorway and gave a nervous wave to Janelle. "See you. Call me when you can."

Janelle nodded, too miserable to say anything. "See you."

The boat started outside and sped away, its motor growing fainter and fainter. She wished she were on it, heading back to the mainland.

Her father sat down beside her and waved Gary over to the booth, who had come in from outside. She had barely noticed even him. Mr. Deville handed her father a bundle of papers, probably the same ones that had blown off the table yesterday.

Janelle clawed at her jeans. "Okay. What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Her father took them and shuffled them around, flipping some over and smoothing out creases. He cleared his throat. "Contrary to what Andrina said, Tempests aren't here to slaughter people. It's a side effect of what we have to do, but it's not our purpose."

"Then what is our purpose?" Gary asked, brushing the bangs back from his face. "Andrina never told us anything else. With her it was all just 'kill, kill, kill before they find us first.'"

"I know. That's why I had this printed out before we left to get you. Take a look." He handed the bundle of papers to Janelle as Gary shuffled over to sit next to her. Good. He made her feel a little better, being there. At least he understood.

Janelle shifted on the cushion. Her father had printed out a bunch of stuff from the Internet. She read the title to the one on top: _Hurricanes Play Major Role in Earth's Heat Balance, Scientists Say._ Janelle flipped the paper to the back. _Hurricanes deposit sediment in marshes and provide many areas with the rainfall needed to sustain life._ A news article. _Area Farmers in Need of Joey's Rains._

Her arms trembled as she lowered the papers to her lap. "So this is it?"

Her dad lowered his voice. "The point is that if it weren't for us, life on this planet would be in horrible danger. Droughts would take over in places and kill crops. People would starve. Species would go extinct. The world's heat would stay in the tropics and make them too hot to live in without storms to carry it away. It would be a huge, huge disaster." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I know this is going to sound strange, Janelle, but by doing our job, we're saving lives."

"What?" Gary leapt from the couch, echoing Janelle's thoughts exactly.

"You ended a bad dry spell Florida was having. I bet Andrina never told you that part," her father said. "It was on the news. Of course, you probably avoided the TV after you changed back."

"Actually, I ripped the wires out of the hospital one so Andrina couldn't torture me with it. Janelle, you need a tissue?" Gary sat back down and took her arm.

Tears had filled her eyes without warning, blurring the pages on her lap. Great. Now she was going to cry in front of everyone. She put her face down in her hands before her father could see and let the tears flow. She hadn't wanted to hear all this. She hadn't wanted there to be a reason she _had_ to change.

"What's wrong?" Her father rubbed his hand up and down her back.

She could barely choke the words out. "I'm scared, okay?"

"I was when it was my time, too. My mother couldn't comfort me. It was why she didn't tell my little brother anything when it was his turn. I'm sure that's the reason I held back from telling you as well. But it'll be okay."

"But what if I _am_ like Andrina?"

"You're not. Trust me on this," her father said. "Just because you have a lot of power doesn't mean you have to be a monster. You think I'm not as strong as my mother was? I chose to restrain myself. And you will, too."

Janelle lifted her head and stared out the window for a long time. She blinked the water from her eyes. The ocean sparkled outside and the sun shined on a calm day. "What's it like? The change, I mean?"

"It's nothing to be afraid of, honey. It's an enjoyable experience." He smiled at Gary. "You didn't tell her that, did you? Were you too embarrassed?"

Gary shook his head. And blushed. "I...I didn't want her to think the wrong thing about me."

Her father pointed to the papers. "Look at the last page there, Janelle. I think I know what it is you're going to do."

Janelle sucked in a breath and wiped the last of the moisture from her eyes. She flipped to the final page of the packet and read the bold words across the top. _No End in Sight for Northeast Drought, Water Restrictions in Place_.

Her father wrapped his hand around her forearm. "Come on. We'll be there when you change back."

Janelle rose without a word and followed him outside.

### Chapter Twenty-One

A hurricane spun over the waters of the Atlantic.

She had started out as a mere wisp of cloud—nothing, in other words—only a few days ago, floating aimlessly along whatever path the wind took her. Disappointment plagued her for the first few hours of drifting over the ocean with the other wisps, with nothing to look at but the curvature of the earth and nothing to do. Her dad had lied. Again. This was so _boring_.

_But no_ , Janelle thought. She was special. And meant for something greater.

The heat from the ocean below drifted up towards her. Like the aroma of a feast. She fed on it, growing stronger and absorbing the clouds around her as the sun set. This was better. Maybe her dad hadn't lied too bad this time.

The first night came and she started to spin as the ocean's power coursed through her new body. On the second day she grew stronger still, until an intoxicating roar filled her being. Now on the third day, she was getting somewhere.

The ocean churned below as Janelle flew ahead. Never before had she felt so free. So able to leave behind all the crap of her other life. The memories of the past few days. But this wouldn't last forever. She'd have to go back to that life soon.

The sun set for a third time. Janelle kept feeding off the heat of the water, gathering more and more of its moisture around herself like a cloak. She'd need it for later. She wasn't sure why...but it was the right thing to do.

By Day Number Four, an incredible power raced through her like a million thunderstorms. Invigorating. Alive.

But land appeared on the horizon. It stretched up and down like a green and brown splatter of mud. No sparkling ocean lay beyond its borders...and no fuel. And she was getting slowly closer to it. Great. This would have to end, and soon.

She tried to stop and turn back, but no use. Something urged her on. Pushing her. She had better enjoy this while it lasted.

Three more days passed. The land got closer. And closer. So she moved forward as slowly as she could, savoring this amazing power. And every night, the stars shined overhead with nothing to ruin the spectacular view. Meteorites streaked across the sky.

As the sun peeked over the horizon on the seventh day, she took a turn to the north. It felt right to do so. Janelle flew faster, the power within her singing as she moved. Why had she ever been afraid to do this? She'd never enjoyed anything more in her life.

But the land had come closer by day number eight—much closer. Now Janelle moved alongside it, keeping a safe distance but going faster. And faster. Gray blobs—cities?—lined the distant coastline.

A distant little voice reared up in her consciousness. _Show them no mercy_. But it faded away like an old, moldy nightmare. It wasn't important. Then her father's voice replaced it. _Control yourself, Janelle. You'll spare more lives._ That was better.

The coast curved up ahead...and now she was on a collision course with it. Crap. She'd nearly forgotten. She had to calm down before she got to it. Janelle urged herself to slow with all her might, but she couldn't...the energy of the ocean kept floating up towards her, tempting her. She could savor it one more time, just one more... _No_ , she thought over and over. The land drew closer and she didn't have time for this.

The roar began to fade. The energy drained from Janelle as she rejected the ocean's offer of more. Hours passed. Her body grew feebler and started to break apart. She was starving to death.

The rocky shore crept in under her now, battered by her waves. And then the ocean vanished completely. Only trees, buildings, roads, and fields stretched out under her now.

No warmth. No energy. The last of her life drained away. So tired, she was so tired. Any minute, this would end.

They were nearby. Her father, Hank, and Gary. She could sense them somewhere below, waiting. It was time to go back now.

A wobble shook her being. Janelle's awareness dropped from the sky as if a trapdoor had opened. Wisps of cloud rushed past. An invisible box seemed to close in, squashing her down to a tiny point with a hollow whoosh that rushed in from all sides. The world went black and she spun around tighter and tighter. She was going to pass out. She was going to—

With a sloshing sound, it all stopped.

Janelle stood on a muddy road, trembling in place. Her clothes stuck to her like a second skin, soaked. She fell to her knees—she had legs again—and sank into the soft earth as a tiny peek of sunlight filtered down through the surrounding trees.

A motor grumbled behind her. Footfalls approached. But who cared? Nap. She needed a nap. It sounded good she didn't care if she had to take it in the middle of the road.

"Janelle, it's over. Let's get you somewhere where you can sleep." Her father appeared above her. "We'll lay her out on the backseat of the van."

Gary. Her dad. They were here. Just like they'd said they'd be.

Gary took one arm. Her father the other.

Everything blurred. Her legs dragged as they pulled her along. A van door slid open and she landed on a firm, velvety surface as hands released her. The backseat. A tickle formed in her throat and she coughed. Mr. Deville closed the door and sat in the seat right in front of her.

Gary sat beside her. "It's okay," he said, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

Her father climbed into the driver's seat. Gravel crunched as the van rolled down the deserted road.

Janelle lay against Gary and closed her eyes, listening as the rain she had brought to this place started to pummel down on the land again.

* * * * *

Janelle woke up swaddled in thick blankets.

Ugly brown curtains hung down to one side of her. Her father, Mr. Deville, and Gary sat on the edge of another bed, facing a television with the volume so low that she could only hear the high pitched whine. They'd tilted it away from her.

"She's awake," Gary said, tapping her father on the shoulder.

Her father took the remote and clicked off the television. "How you feeling, honey?"

Janelle moved her arms and legs, flexing the joints. It felt so strange to have them again, like she'd been crammed into a body she hadn't learned how to control yet. "Weird."

"That's normal." Her dad walked over and sat on the side of her bed. "You'll feel fine tomorrow and we'll get a flight out of here."

She looked around at the motel room. "Where are we?"

"Rhode Island."

Janelle groaned and sank back into the pillow. A queasy feeling filled her stomach. The past week felt like the strangest dream ever. Perhaps, it was. She couldn't believe she had enjoyed the transformation. But--

"How bad?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Her father opened the curtains.

Every muscle in her body tightened at his words. "How bad was I? You know what I'm talking about." She'd find out sooner or later, so it might as well get it over with now. Her heart raced as she waited for his answer.

"Nothing catastrophic as far as we go. You calmed down enough when the time came." He parted the curtains to peek outside. "You worried everyone for a few days, though."

"Worried everyone? It was the biggest evacuation in this country's history," Gary said.

"Gary!" he snapped, pulling the curtains together.

"Well, she wanted the truth," he said.

Janelle sat bolt upright as his words sank in. Leave it to Gary to be blunt. "He's kidding, right?"

"Actually, no, he's not," Mr. Deville said. "You, uh, inherited both Andrina's and my mom's power, all right. Broke some records, too. It was pretty scary for a little while."

"But it worked out all right," her father said with a force that made them both go silent. "People got a good scare, but maybe that's a blessing in case someone like Andrina comes along again. But they also breathed a big sigh of relief when you calmed down." He lowered his voice and faced her. "Do you want the details?"

Janelle shook her head, speechless. Details. They could wait. She needed her head to stop spinning first.

"That's fine," her father said. "You can always seek them out when you're ready. Now, what do you want from Burger Planet?"

* * * * *

Two days later, they returned to Alara on the new boat Deon had bought with his insurance money, leaving from the same marina in the Bahamas they'd meant to leave from two weeks before. Janelle could sit back and relax on the journey. Not like last time. That tingling and urge to jump in the ocean was gone. The mountain had partially lifted from her shoulders.

Even Gary's mood had improved. He smiled more and didn't make quite as many negative comments. She played cards and watched movies with him late into the night. It was the best couple of days she'd had in a long time, period.

Her dad woke her up early the next morning, dressed in a tan business jacket. "You've got to get ready to present yourself, honey. You can't show up on Alara in jeans."

Janelle blinked the sleep from her eyes and pushed the covers off. Oh, no. She'd almost forgotten about her new role as Tempest High Leader.

Butterflies raced around in her stomach as she combed her hair and brushed her teeth. A couple of business suits hung on the inside of the bathroom door, a tan one and a lavender one. Her father knew better than to bring her any gray ones.

She plucked the lavender one out of its bag—it looked like something Andrina never would've worn—and put it on. A pair of dress shoes waited on the floor, and they weren't high heels.

"Everyone's going to be staring at me," Janelle said a minute later, closing the bathroom door behind her. She'd never dressed like this in her life. And it felt weird.

"You look fine," her father said. "Everything's going to turn out all right. And according to a poll that _Surge_ took, most Tempests are pretty optimistic that you'll do a better job than Andrina. You'll see."

Everyone gathered at the front of the boat as Deon steered it closer to Alara and through its winding cave. This time, it didn't have the same sinister feel. The cave and the green water seemed almost beautiful.

Janelle reached out and took Gary's hand, holding it tight.

The cave opened up into its underground marina, and standing on the opposite dock was a huge group of people.

Janelle's stomach tightened and she fought down an urge to run and hide. People seemed to have come from all over the planet to meet her: Asia, Africa, India, and who knew where else. There were whole families, even. Little kids in dresses and suits.

"The kids," Janelle breathed. "They're all back with their families?"

Her father patted her on the shoulder. "Yes, honey. Most of them are. A couple are still waiting for passports to go home, but they'll have them soon enough. Now step out and say hi to everyone."

* * * * *

The main entrance hall now boasted refreshment tables and a dance floor. Because she'd had to transform, her start-of-term party had been pushed back to today.

Once the introductions had died down and the photos had been taken for _Surge_ , Janelle had made her way to the side of the room and behind one of the food tables. Safety. All around the chamber, people socialized in tight groups, speaking in at least five different languages. Mr. Deville and Deon had wandered over to a group of Australian Tempests and started up a conversation.

Sweat formed on her palms at the sight of it all. Everyone had such high expectations of her, and she hadn't even graduated high school yet. How could they expect her to lead when she'd only been a part of this world for a few weeks?

Her father appeared out of the crowd and offered a plate of appetizers. "Don't be shy at your own party," he said.

Janelle's stomach rumbled at the smell of fish. "What did you expect, Dad? I'm a little nervous."

A few kids crawled under the table at the other end of the room, trying to hide under the tablecloth, and Joey stood over with a girl in her twenties. There really weren't any teenagers to hang out with. Gary had vanished a while ago. She couldn't blame him any...but this party would be a lot better with him around.

Her father seemed to have read her mind. "I think someone else is coming."

Two people walked down the right hallway, Gary and a woman with black hair. His mother. Gary wore a black suit, and judging from the look on his face, it hadn't been his idea. Janelle stifled down a snicker. Her clothes weren't much better than his. She'd kill for her jeans back.

His mother separated from him and headed over to Deon. Her father gave her a pat on the back, turned, and vanished into the crowd.

"Geez," said Gary, picking at his suit. "My mom must think it's a wedding or something."

"Well, almost everyone here's in formal," she said. "And I'm stuck dressing like this for...how long do Tempest High Leaders stay in office?"

He nodded at her clothes. "Life."

"Great. So much for wearing jeans ever again."

Gary dunked a cracker into some dip and took a bite. "Did you know my mom quit drinking three years ago? Andrina knew and never told me." He studied the food again. "Look, I didn't mean to pull you into all that mess with Andrina and all. I thought I was doing the right thing by helping you run away. I was stupid."

Janelle looked down at her dress shoes and wiggled her cramped toes inside of them. Her face heated up. But at least she could talk now. "No, you weren't. You didn't know that would happen. And if it weren't for you, Andrina would still be in power." She swallowed. "Thank you."

Gary parted his bangs from his face and shot her another one of his rare smiles.

The lights dimmed, leaving only the orange glow of the setting sun peeking in through the windows. The shadows of palm fronds bobbed up and down on the walls. Voices died down and soft music started to play over the room's speakers.

One by one, people made their way out onto the dance floor. Within a few minutes, skirts swished and feet tapped in circles on the polished gray spiral. The air conditioning raised little bumps on Janelle's skin.

Gary shifted leg to leg and tossed one of the crackers down onto the plate. "Um...do you want to dance?"

Janelle nodded. "Sure."

* * * * *

This is the first book of the _Destroyers Series._ If you liked it, be sure to check out the second book of the series, _Inferno._ It is now available at your favorite eBook retailer! Or you can save some money and pick up the _Destroyers Omnibus,_ which contains all five books of the series at an overall discounted price.

## But wait...that's not all!

Go  HERE to sign up for the Holly Hook Readers Club and get an EXCLUSIVE short story collection for free! These three stories are for members only and cannot be found anywhere else! Plus, you'll be the first to know when I release a new novel, do a new sale and host a giveaway! You'll have the chance to vote on what I'll write next, give me your feedback and even chat! I hope to see you shortly!

