Read Online Powerless by Tera Lynn Childs, Tracy Deebs - Free Book Online
Authors: Tera Lynn Childs, Tracy Deebs
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okay.”
“I love you, Kenna,” she calls after me.
“Yeah, me too, Rebel,” I murmur.
I’m halfway home when the tears start pouring down my face in a silent stream.
Stupid allergies , I tell myself as I swipe my cheek with the back of my hand.
If I was a better liar, I might even believe it.
• • •
My head is whirling as I climb into my own bed. I feel like a puzzle with all the important pieces missing.
None of this makes any sense.
I expect to spend what’s left of the night staring at the ceiling, but I’m out the moment my cheek hits my pillow. Only it’s not a peaceful sleep. My thoughts race through a bizarre version of the night’s events. Rebel using her power to slam me into the ceiling during the break-in. Riley turning into a giant microscope so he can study me on a slide. Mom and Mr. Malone making out next to a grizzly bear in her office. I’m pretty sure that last one’s going to require future therapy.
But then my dream turned to the past. Instead of Mom’s office, I was in Dad’s. Four-year-old me, playing under his desk at the superhero high command. He was president of the League before Mr. Malone. Before they built the Elite Superhero Lab.
The door burst open.
“Kenna?” my dad shouted. “Kenna, baby, where are you?”
I climbed out of my hiding spot. But when I saw the look of panic on his face, I wished I hadn’t.
He grabbed me, clutched me to his chest, and raced into the hall. Long and gleaming white. All brightness and light. Except for the gang of villains who stood at the other end.
When they saw us, they started running.
I panicked, screamed. The light f ixtures in the hallway exploded.
The villains hesitated, startled by broken glass raining down. Dad turned his back on them and set me on my feet.
“Run,” he said, gently at f irst. The sound of footsteps echoed behind him. He shouted, “Run!”
I froze as he turned to face our enemies.
I tried to make out their faces, to see their features in the enveloping shadows. But I couldn’t bring them into focus. A dozen years of trying, and their identities still remained a blurry mystery.
“You shouldn’t have crossed us,” one of them said.
“What you’re doing is wrong,” Dad countered, stepping toward them. “You can’t just—”
The hallway exploded in a flash of light.
I wake up screaming, my body drenched in a cold sweat.
It takes me several deep breaths to remember where I am. When I finally calm down, I check the clock on my nightstand. It reads 2:43 in big, green numbers. Judging by the sun streaming through my windows, I’m guessing that’s two forty-three in the afternoon.
God, I must have been tired. My body feels like I’ve been flattened by a steamroller.
I need caffeine. Or sugar. Or—even better—both. I drag myself out of bed and downstairs. I’m just stirring hazelnut creamer into my coffee when the front door opens.
“Kenna?” Mom calls out, her voice strained with worry.
Can I blame her?
“In the kitchen,” I answer.
She drops her massive bag on the floor when she walks into the room.
Mom looks more frazzled than usual. Her messy brown bun is falling out, the circles under her eyes show through her makeup, and her cheeks are drawn like she hasn’t eaten in days. Driven by her research, it’s normal for her to spend twelve or even fourteen hours at a stretch at the lab searching for the key to eliminating villain powers and enhancing superhero abilities.
But today, she looks like she’s taken on Nitro, Quake, and the rest of the v-bag army—all at the same time.
I don’t bother asking if she wants food—she’ll just say no. Setting down my coffee, I grab a carton of eggs and a container of chopped veggies out of the fridge and start fixing a scramble.
“How’s the lab?” I ask.
“Almost back to normal.” She shrugs out of her coat and then flings it on the counter. “The Cleaners work fast.”
I turn my attention to the stove and throw some
“I love you, Kenna,” she calls after me.
“Yeah, me too, Rebel,” I murmur.
I’m halfway home when the tears start pouring down my face in a silent stream.
Stupid allergies , I tell myself as I swipe my cheek with the back of my hand.
If I was a better liar, I might even believe it.
• • •
My head is whirling as I climb into my own bed. I feel like a puzzle with all the important pieces missing.
None of this makes any sense.
I expect to spend what’s left of the night staring at the ceiling, but I’m out the moment my cheek hits my pillow. Only it’s not a peaceful sleep. My thoughts race through a bizarre version of the night’s events. Rebel using her power to slam me into the ceiling during the break-in. Riley turning into a giant microscope so he can study me on a slide. Mom and Mr. Malone making out next to a grizzly bear in her office. I’m pretty sure that last one’s going to require future therapy.
But then my dream turned to the past. Instead of Mom’s office, I was in Dad’s. Four-year-old me, playing under his desk at the superhero high command. He was president of the League before Mr. Malone. Before they built the Elite Superhero Lab.
The door burst open.
“Kenna?” my dad shouted. “Kenna, baby, where are you?”
I climbed out of my hiding spot. But when I saw the look of panic on his face, I wished I hadn’t.
He grabbed me, clutched me to his chest, and raced into the hall. Long and gleaming white. All brightness and light. Except for the gang of villains who stood at the other end.
When they saw us, they started running.
I panicked, screamed. The light f ixtures in the hallway exploded.
The villains hesitated, startled by broken glass raining down. Dad turned his back on them and set me on my feet.
“Run,” he said, gently at f irst. The sound of footsteps echoed behind him. He shouted, “Run!”
I froze as he turned to face our enemies.
I tried to make out their faces, to see their features in the enveloping shadows. But I couldn’t bring them into focus. A dozen years of trying, and their identities still remained a blurry mystery.
“You shouldn’t have crossed us,” one of them said.
“What you’re doing is wrong,” Dad countered, stepping toward them. “You can’t just—”
The hallway exploded in a flash of light.
I wake up screaming, my body drenched in a cold sweat.
It takes me several deep breaths to remember where I am. When I finally calm down, I check the clock on my nightstand. It reads 2:43 in big, green numbers. Judging by the sun streaming through my windows, I’m guessing that’s two forty-three in the afternoon.
God, I must have been tired. My body feels like I’ve been flattened by a steamroller.
I need caffeine. Or sugar. Or—even better—both. I drag myself out of bed and downstairs. I’m just stirring hazelnut creamer into my coffee when the front door opens.
“Kenna?” Mom calls out, her voice strained with worry.
Can I blame her?
“In the kitchen,” I answer.
She drops her massive bag on the floor when she walks into the room.
Mom looks more frazzled than usual. Her messy brown bun is falling out, the circles under her eyes show through her makeup, and her cheeks are drawn like she hasn’t eaten in days. Driven by her research, it’s normal for her to spend twelve or even fourteen hours at a stretch at the lab searching for the key to eliminating villain powers and enhancing superhero abilities.
But today, she looks like she’s taken on Nitro, Quake, and the rest of the v-bag army—all at the same time.
I don’t bother asking if she wants food—she’ll just say no. Setting down my coffee, I grab a carton of eggs and a container of chopped veggies out of the fridge and start fixing a scramble.
“How’s the lab?” I ask.
“Almost back to normal.” She shrugs out of her coat and then flings it on the counter. “The Cleaners work fast.”
I turn my attention to the stove and throw some
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