Tempest (#1 Destroyers Series) Read Online Free Page B

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 roof hadn’t lost any shingles. Not one.
None of the front windows had cracked even though her dad hadn’t
lifted a finger to board them up. Every tree remained upright in
their yard, a stark contrast to the one leaning on the neighbor's
house next door. All they’d gotten was a couple of little branches
in their lawn.
    Sunlight reflected off her father’s
glasses—and right into her eyes—as he twisted in his seat to face
her. “What are you complaining about?”
    “I’m not complaining. It’s just that—” She
gestured to the whole neighborhood around them. Everyone else had
taken some sort of damage. Everyone. Poor Ed stood across the
street, staring at the tree in his yard. It was as if, in the
middle of the storm, someone had lowered a gigantic shield or force
field over the house. That was impossible, but what were the
chances that every piece of debris in the neighborhood would avoid
their yard, and that their skinny tree out front would survive the
winds next to the huge one that had fallen across the street? “We
should've gotten something out of all this. The math just
doesn't add up."
    “Maybe you ought to go lie down.” Her father
opened the door and stepped down to the pavement. “You look tired.
I’ll go see if we can do anything for anybody, so don’t be shocked
if you wake up and find me gone.”
    That sounded like a great idea. The pounding
in her temples threatened to go over the line to migraine status
any minute. “I’d help, but I feel like a gremlin’s beating at my
head with a hammer.”
    Her father unlocked the front door and gave
her a pat on the back as she went in and breathed in the thick, hot
air. The smell of fresh paint and cardboard filled the house,
released by the heat. The power was still out, and a fresh
lightning bolt of pain shot through her temple. Weaving around
boxes, she made her way to her new room, closed the blinds to shut
out the stabbing light, and collapsed.
    Through the pain in her head and behind her
eyes, the day danced in front of her.
    Roaring wind. Snapping trees and power lines.
Her father, repeating we're completely safe, Janelle, over
and over until it made her want to throw up.
    The boy, with his marking that matched hers
exactly.
    But she had no energy left to process it
anymore. After an hour in a haze, Janelle drifted off to a swirling
maelstrom of darkness, chaos, and pain.
     
    * * * * *
     
    The shrill ringing of her phone jarred her
back to reality some time later. Janelle shot up and rubbed her
head, but the pounding had stopped, left behind somewhere in her
nightmares. She searched the dark room for her phone. A green
square glowed on her bedside table. There. Stifling back a yawn,
she scooped it up and raised it to her ear. “Hello?” It had to be
Leslie. Her friend would always rather talk than text.
    “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 paused, trying to get
her bearings. "Worried? You and me both.” Should she tell her
friend about her father’s weirdness and the water vortex? The whole
day felt ready to burst out of her.
    “I was so worried about you. I miss you
already. Class is going to suck this year without you around to
help me with Trig. Oh, well. I’ll just have to ask Todd. So, tell
me all about it.”
    It was the invitation she needed to start
talking. She left out the water vortex--she wasn't sure why, but it
made her stomach lurch in warning when she started to tell Leslie
about it--but included everything else. There was no sense in
making her friend think that all her Honors classes had finally
melted her brain, like she always used to say at her old
school.
    Fortunately, Leslie didn't dwell too much