Read Online Heavy Metal (A Goddesses Rising Novel) (Entangled Select) by Natalie J. Damschroder - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Natalie J. Damschroder
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even offense. She winced, remembering how she’d ground her foot into Vern’s midsection. What good was that, unless she wanted to hire on with the mob?
There was so much else to deal with before she could worry about a career. She wasn’t homeless and jobless because she was a goddess, though that little detail had helped things along. Getting some education and training might make her feel less lost, more capable of taking care of herself, but that was just a symptom. It would do nothing about the problem that was Millinger.
Millinger.
Usually, when Riley thought of the people who’d messed up her life, her shoulder muscles turned to rock and spawned sharp pains at the base of her skull. But a simple name changed all that. Instead of being a target, she had a target.
Taillights flashed in front of her and she slowed, keeping an eye on Sam’s car as a couple of others quick-merged between them. Orange-and-white-striped barrels angled across the left lane ahead, funneling everyone to the right. Riley could almost hear the combined grumbling of all the drivers around her.
They crawled along for half a mile, and she studied the urban landscape out of habit, picking out metal items—lampposts and mailboxes and wrought-iron railings. House numbers and scaffolding, debris that might be metal but was probably plastic littering the side of the road. She wished she could come up with a practical way to carry more. The pipe rested half on the floor, half on the seat next to her. That was plenty of source material, but it weighed several pounds. What was she supposed to do? Hang it from a scabbard on her hip?
Squeaky brakes from the car in front of her alerted her that they were stopping again, and she glanced ahead to see what was going on. The overpass they were approaching was under construction. A crane in the grassy median slowly rotated, a dark green I-beam dangling from the crane arm as workers under the bridge used other equipment to haul it into place over the closed left lane.
That was a massive hunk of metal. How much power could she get from that? Enough to do superhero-type things? Like lift equipment off a pinned construction worker? She watched the I-beam swing over the road, ponderous and heavy, and imagined touching it, energy pouring into her, enough to fling an overturned bulldozer off its victim. In her mind, it tumbled end over end, crashing safely to the ground a dozen feet away.
Shouts jerked her out of her imagination. Tires squealed as someone slammed on the brakes, someone else hitting their horn as the I-beam swung wildly. Groaning metal echoed over everything. More shouts. Riley gaped, watching through her windshield as the I-beam tilted and began to slide in its harness. Men scattered on one side, others struggling to control it from the opposite.
A clang reverberated so deep and loud it vibrated Riley’s car. The I-beam had collided with some kind of forklift-like vehicle, and it tipped, in slow motion but still far too fast.
“Oh, my God.” Riley clutched the wheel, frozen, staring at the hard hat and waving arm of the man now trapped under the forklift. What… Had she done that? Had her fantasies somehow pulled the I-beam toward her?
Doors opened, and people climbed out of their cars. A few pulled out phones, some assholes clearly taking photos or video, while others put the phones to their ears, probably calling 911. Riley numbly put the Beetle in park and shut off the ignition. Her legs shook as she opened the door and tried to stand. She wrapped her left arm over the top of the door to keep herself upright, her eyes locked on the man on the ground, his coworkers struggling to move the machine on top of him.
“Riley!”
A familiar shout a couple dozen feet away.
She tore her gaze away and found Sam, motioning for her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t comprehend what he wanted.
“Come on!” He waved again, then turned and ran toward the accident.
Something snapped in Riley’s
There was so much else to deal with before she could worry about a career. She wasn’t homeless and jobless because she was a goddess, though that little detail had helped things along. Getting some education and training might make her feel less lost, more capable of taking care of herself, but that was just a symptom. It would do nothing about the problem that was Millinger.
Millinger.
Usually, when Riley thought of the people who’d messed up her life, her shoulder muscles turned to rock and spawned sharp pains at the base of her skull. But a simple name changed all that. Instead of being a target, she had a target.
Taillights flashed in front of her and she slowed, keeping an eye on Sam’s car as a couple of others quick-merged between them. Orange-and-white-striped barrels angled across the left lane ahead, funneling everyone to the right. Riley could almost hear the combined grumbling of all the drivers around her.
They crawled along for half a mile, and she studied the urban landscape out of habit, picking out metal items—lampposts and mailboxes and wrought-iron railings. House numbers and scaffolding, debris that might be metal but was probably plastic littering the side of the road. She wished she could come up with a practical way to carry more. The pipe rested half on the floor, half on the seat next to her. That was plenty of source material, but it weighed several pounds. What was she supposed to do? Hang it from a scabbard on her hip?
Squeaky brakes from the car in front of her alerted her that they were stopping again, and she glanced ahead to see what was going on. The overpass they were approaching was under construction. A crane in the grassy median slowly rotated, a dark green I-beam dangling from the crane arm as workers under the bridge used other equipment to haul it into place over the closed left lane.
That was a massive hunk of metal. How much power could she get from that? Enough to do superhero-type things? Like lift equipment off a pinned construction worker? She watched the I-beam swing over the road, ponderous and heavy, and imagined touching it, energy pouring into her, enough to fling an overturned bulldozer off its victim. In her mind, it tumbled end over end, crashing safely to the ground a dozen feet away.
Shouts jerked her out of her imagination. Tires squealed as someone slammed on the brakes, someone else hitting their horn as the I-beam swung wildly. Groaning metal echoed over everything. More shouts. Riley gaped, watching through her windshield as the I-beam tilted and began to slide in its harness. Men scattered on one side, others struggling to control it from the opposite.
A clang reverberated so deep and loud it vibrated Riley’s car. The I-beam had collided with some kind of forklift-like vehicle, and it tipped, in slow motion but still far too fast.
“Oh, my God.” Riley clutched the wheel, frozen, staring at the hard hat and waving arm of the man now trapped under the forklift. What… Had she done that? Had her fantasies somehow pulled the I-beam toward her?
Doors opened, and people climbed out of their cars. A few pulled out phones, some assholes clearly taking photos or video, while others put the phones to their ears, probably calling 911. Riley numbly put the Beetle in park and shut off the ignition. Her legs shook as she opened the door and tried to stand. She wrapped her left arm over the top of the door to keep herself upright, her eyes locked on the man on the ground, his coworkers struggling to move the machine on top of him.
“Riley!”
A familiar shout a couple dozen feet away.
She tore her gaze away and found Sam, motioning for her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t comprehend what he wanted.
“Come on!” He waved again, then turned and ran toward the accident.
Something snapped in Riley’s
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