Late again, late again.
Andrew Ashton rushed from his parents’ two story, cookie-cutter home, his Converse sneakers scuffing the sidewalk. He struggled to hoist his backpack on, and the straps slid against the nylon of his bomber jacket. He frowned. Everything was harder since the accident that had taken half his left arm.
“All right, Sire, the Kosimas will handle the ceremony. However, the treasury needs approval for banquet expenditures.”
Falton stared at fluttering drapes. Window’s closed though. Gelaid was literally driving him mad.
“Sire, the royal magistrate wants to discuss writs of authority, the speechwriter needs to meet. After that… Sire?
Falton fell face first on his bed.
“Glitch, have you disabled that security system yet?”
I scowled, my radio squealing with feedback as Zephyrus shot past. “Give me a minute, geez. Have you ever hacked through a next-gen firewall while dodging actual fireballs?”
He just laughed. It always amazed me how he could laugh at times like this.
By Rae Graham The sun blazed with the intensity only a summer drought can muster, but no matter how hard it tried, it couldn’t melt Jasper’s ice. The beautiful aqua strands wove out from his palm in a glittering dance—one that drew delighted squeals from the children on the other side of the window. Jasper’s
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I whistled as I stepped from my house. Per usual, I was clad in my nano-suit, a second skin to protect me from harm. You couldn’t see it—to most eyes I looked like any kid walking the street. Well, any kid in a trench coat with goggles perched on his forehead.
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“Susannah Carey, did you hear a word I said?” Miss Jessup rapped a cane on her cabin’s floor. “Pay attention!”
A glowing coal skidded out of my tongs, landing back in the fireplace. Sparks flew, hot as my cheeks. Truth is, I hadn’t been listening. I was hurrying too much.
The building shakes, but I don’t look up from my touch display. When you live in a city with supers long enough, you stop paying attention. My coworker Ben isn’t from here though, and it shows by the way he jumps up, looking out the window.
“Ben, this customer’s name is Jezzica, spelled with Zs.”
Hey, Dragonbreath. Camping this weekend. U in?
A wisp of smoke accompanied my snort as I stuck my phone back in my pocket. Camping. The only social event I’d been invited to in years. Not that I could blame them after my laugh fried Craig’s gaming system at fourteen.
Dex had one thing in common with his sister Fae: they both hated the monthly meetings of the National Individuals of Power Association. In Dex’s opinion, they offered unparalleled opportunities for humiliation.
His one consolation was the free food.
The garden party was the event of the year as Rainbow City’s elite celebrated the christening of Henry and Cinderella Charming’s newborn daughter. Princess Ashlyn slept peacefully in a gilded bassinet as guests dined on delicacies and spoke of meaningless things.
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The rebels had promised a quick, painless Revolution: Down with the king, up with the men living in nothing but dust.
Liars, all of them, Sabelle thought, grimacing. The rebels’ notion of freedom excluded anyone connected to the nobility, no matter how far-removed the relation.
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