Power Surge (Anna Jennings Super Novel Book 1)

by E. J. Whitmer

  Eric rolled his eyes and reached down to help me up. He lifted my arm to look at my elbow and sighed as he pushed me to my chair and forced me to a sitting position. “Sit. Stay.”

  He walked out of my office and returned a moment later with a first aid kit. I shrugged out of my jacket and reached out for the kit. Eric’s eyes rested on my teal silk cami for a fraction of a second before meeting my own. I caught that fraction of a second and couldn’t control the blush spreading from my cheeks to my toes.

  Blake cleared his throat and began bandaging my elbow, remaining silent as he finished his work.

  Once my elbow was sufficiently cleaned and wrapped, he stood and straightened his tie. He picked up the vase of daisies. “Honestly, Anna. Enough with the theatrics. It’s exhausting and quite honestly, really immature. Yesterday was awful. Today?” He sighed. “Today was only marginally better. You’re not acting like yourself and I can’t ignore that it’s affecting your work. You haven’t returned my last three emails and still have yet to approve your employees’ time sheets. Get it together.”

  He paused for a moment, debating something, then grabbed his vase of daisies and moved toward the door. “Thank you for the flowers,” he said over his shoulder as he walked out.

  I sat there, rubbing my elbow and staring at the door for a moment while I processed what had just happened. Groaning, I slammed my head down onto my desk and gave myself an internal lecture. Throwing a stapler at my boss was probably not on my list of top ten most professional moments. Not to mention the whining. Ugh. I reached for the phone to call Blake and apologize, but it rang before I could pick up the receiver.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hey, Anna! It’s Carl!”

  I sat back in my chair and sighed. “Hi Carl. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to call to check in and report my status.”

  I rolled my eyes and began shutting down my computer for the day. “What do you mean your status, Carl?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been following Lloyd Vance around all day and so far he hasn’t teleported anywhere.”

  I sat up straight in my chair. “You’ve been following Lloyd Vance? I bought you a cookie, damn it. It hasn’t been a full twenty-four hours! Honestly, Carl, what were you thinking?! There’s no way he hasn’t noticed you following him. You’re going to get both of us fired!”

  “You didn’t say twenty-four hours. I’m pretty sure you said the rest of the day yesterday. Besides, he hasn’t seen me. I’m sneaky, Anna. I was thinking of what my cool super hero name should be. It should be something sneaky. Sly or Covert or Stealth … Yeah, I like Stealth!”

  I groaned and reached for my briefcase. “Carl, I’m hanging up now and going home. Stop tailing Lloyd Vance and go home!” I replaced the receiver and grabbed my coat.

  6

  Englewood: The perfect place for a superhero showdown.

  I drove home and tried not to mope as I fixed tuna salad for Figaro and I. Emmett hadn’t called since lunch. I supposed that was to be expected. Not many guys called within a few hours of a first date, especially one that ended on such a crappy note. But I did have a pretty decent bruise blossoming on my chin and figured he’d want to check in.

  Resigned, I took my dinner into the living room and zapped on the TV. Normally, I enjoy my time alone. I could watch HGTV for hours, picking up design tips and tricks. Fig and I have spent many a night watching a shirtless David Bromstad paint canvas after canvas. But even David couldn’t cheer me up that night.

  I was just thinking about the pint of Haagen Dazs in the freezer when my cell phone chirped. Emmett! I raced across the floor and scooped up my phone.

  “Hello?!” I answered, hating the hint of desperation in my voice.

  “Anna? It’s Carl. I need you to come here. Now.”

  I ambled back to the couch and stretched out. “Carl, it’s 7:30 at night. I’m home, in comfy sweatpants, wallowing in self pity. I’m busy.”

  “Anna, you need to come here now!” The panic in his voice had me sitting up straight. “I told you I was following Lloyd Vance. Well, I noticed on his calendar that he had scheduled a last minute senior management meeting. So I followed him to this abandoned warehouse in Englewood and - ”

  “Carl!” I cut him off. “You followed Lloyd Vance to an abandoned warehouse in Englewood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you out of your mind!?” I shot up and paced around my living room.

  “I was just curious!” Carl argued. “But it doesn’t matter now. Anna, you need to come here now. I think they’re in trouble.”

  “Who is in trouble, Carl?” I asked as I grabbed my keys and hustled out the door.

  “All of them. They’re all here.”

  “Give me the address. I’m on the way.”

  I scribbled down the address on the back of my hand as I rode the elevator down to the parking garage. Why would they hold a senior management meeting in Englewood of all places? The address Carl gave me was in a particularly bad area; An area I knew neither Emmett Vance nor Eric Blake would ever frequent. I tried not to think about either of them as I drove like a madwoman, flipping the bird and shouting out my window the entire way there.

  By the time I pulled up to the warehouse, my throat was raw and my knuckles were white. The warehouse sat on a corner and had overhead doors and shady entrances tucked in numerous places all around the building. It was at least two stories tall, but with no windows, I couldn’t be sure. Square and ugly with rust drips gracing every corner, it seemed to tower over the street in an ominous warning. Two of the three streetlights had been shot out at some point, leaving one lone bulb to cast an eerie glow on the rest of the block. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Some places just instantly give me the heebie jeebies.

  I jumped a good three feet in the air when my cell phone rang. “Carl? Where are you?”

  “Inside. Anna, come quick! Use the door on the west side.”

  I ran around the building and spotted an entrance. I crept along, keeping close to the building, and slipped through the door into an area dense with metal shelving units. I could see movement behind the furthest row of shelves. Deciding to investigate, I half-crawled forward and found Carl crouched behind a shelving unit, peering through a pile of empty paint cans with a set of binoculars.

  Oh, for the love of God.

  He was head-to-toe spandex. Bright blue running tights covered by canary yellow spandex briefs left nothing to the imagination on his lower half. I’m fairly certain there was at least one sock stuffed in the briefs. His scrawny torso was decked out in a matching blue spandex shirt with a funky letter S screen printed on the chest. To top it off, he had a cape. Seriously. The kid was wearing a 5 foot long, yellow cape.

  I closed my eyes and counted to five before crawling over to him. “Carl!” I hissed. “What the hell are you wearing!?”

  “Shhhhh!!!” He held a finger to his lips and pointed through the paint cans.

  I peered through and my breath caught in my throat. The entire senior management team was gathered in the middle of the warehouse. Lilith’s sweater was singed and smoking at the shoulder, her boutonniere lay blackened on the cement below her. Lloyd Vance was missing a shoe. Emmett Vance was holding his ribs and wincing. They were all formed in a large circle, surrounding a man I had never seen before. The man was at least six feet tall, built like a brick shit house and wearing a getup very similar to Carl’s, but in black and silver and a lightning bolt on his chest.

  “You’re kidding me.” I groaned and sat back. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Carl reached out and pulled me forward again. The man in the ridiculous silver spandex suit lifted his arms. “You’re pathetic!” he shouted. “Pathetic! You think you stand a chance against me, Captain Zinger!?”

  I couldn’t hold back a snort. Eric’s eyes whipped over and caught mine through the shelving unit. “Shit!” I squeaked and ducked down. I waited a beat and
peeked back out. Eric’s eyes were again directed at Spandex Man, who was holding a ball of bright white, snapping light between his raised hands.

  In one powerful movement, he brought his arms down and a wave of electricity surged out from his hands. The entire management team went flying. Lilith crashed into a pile of boxes. Four others, including Eric, flew into a stack of shelving. Emmett flew straight into the wall with a sickening thud, and fell to the ground. While the others groaned and tried to stand back up, Emmett just laid there motionless.

  I started to speak when I was interrupted. “Get out. Now!”

  I looked down at Carl, “What!? Are you kidding me?! We can’t leave them!”

  He looked up at me with a confused look. “Of course we can’t leave them! What are you talking about?”

  “Didn’t you just…” My question was cut off by another surge of electricity that sent the few standing managers flying across the room again.

  The man, Captain Zinger (jeez.), walked over to stand over Lilith. “Would you like to go first, my little flower?” he asked in a creepily pleasant voice.

  She stared up at him with weak, yet confident eyes. “You can certainly try, asshole,” she replied.

  Just then, my cell phone chirped. Carl jolted and tumbled over, his cape catching on the corner of a shelving unit. Paint cans rattled fiercely and began to topple, just as the evil electricity man was building another ball of lightning over Lilith. He cried out and swung his arms down, hurling the ball. Lilith rolled to the side just as a paint can rolled in front of her. The ball of light bounced off of the paint can and rocketed back toward its origin, blasting Captain Zinger directly in the chest. He stumbled back a few steps and dropped to his knees. A low moan escaped from his lips as his eyes glazed over and he fell on his face.

  Everyone was stunned. Too stunned to move. Everyone except me. I grabbed Carl by the cape and tugged hard. “We need to get out of here. Now!” I whispered.

  We scrambled to our feet and rushed out the door, not stopping until we reached my car. I threw open the door and shoved Carl in ahead of me before leaping in and peeling out of the lot.

  Neither one of us spoke for blocks. We were wheezing out sharp breaths and Carl was shaking severely enough that he might’ve been seizing. After ten minutes of catching our breath, I rerouted toward Carl’s apartment.

  Minutes later, I pulled into his lot and cut the engine. “Carl …” I started, then stopped. I didn’t know what to say. “Carl … What the hell is with the cape?”

  He turned his head to look at me and smiled sheepishly. “It’s my uniform. Batman has a cape. Superman has a cape. Stealth should have a cape.”

  “Yeah, you were the definition of Stealth tonight, buddy,” I replied dryly. “You look ridiculous.” I shot a glance down to his overstuffed spandex briefs. “And your … bulges … are distracting.”

  Carl’s face flushed bright red. After a few moments of opening and closing his mouth, he managed to speak. “I need to go inside. Please disregard the gift I left on your desk.”

  “What gift?” I asked, but he was already out the door.

  I shook my head clear and started the car. I was debating whether or not I should try Emmett on his cell phone. I glanced over my shoulder earlier as we were racing out of the warehouse and saw that he had regained consciousness. I knew he was alive, but I had no idea how badly injured he was. Calling him could be a risk, but damn it, he was hurt.

  I pulled into my parking garage and decided an innocent text message would be fine. I sent him a quick message, asking how his night was going and climbed on to the elevator. As the doors opened on my floor, my phone buzzed. It was a response from Emmett.

  Fine.

  One word. He responded with one word. What the hell did that mean? Did I completely blow it at lunch that day? He’s the one who lost his temper. I thought the rest of the date was great. Maybe he was too injured to use his fingers and could only type one word. Horrible scenarios flooded my mind as I stepped into my apartment.

  I closed the door and leaned back against it, struggling to fight back tears. After botching a quick breathing exercise, I vaulted to the freezer, yanked out the ice cream and whipped open the silverware drawer. No spoons. Out of spoons. I eyed a soup ladle. “Fuck it.” I said out loud and snatched it up. I dug in and tried desperately to fit the entire ladle in my mouth.

  “I can already see your ass growing.” A familiar voice resonated behind me.

  I yelped and sent ice cream flying everywhere. I whirled around to find Eric Blake lounging on my couch in the dark. “You ruined my ice cream!” I shouted. I didn’t know what else to say. He’d caught me completely off guard.

  “You would have hated yourself tomorrow if I hadn’t stopped you.” He replied, coolly. “You’re welcome.” He patted the seat next to him. “Please, sit.” He tilted his head and smiled.

  I walked slowly to the living room and stopped three feet from him. “I’ll stand, thanks.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. Before I could react, he grabbed my shoulders and reversed our positions. I sat wide-eyed on the couch as Blake towered over me, his hands still gripping my shoulders. His cool demeanor was gone, replaced with sheer outrage.

  “I told you to let it go!” he shouted. “Why couldn’t you just listen to me? Why can’t you ever just do what I ask? Goddamn it, Anna!” His fingers dug deep into my shoulders.

  “Eric, you’re hurting me,” I said softly. At this point, tears were flowing freely down my face. He sucked in a breath and loosened his hold.

  “Shit. Don’t do that. Don’t get all weepy on me.” He squatted down to eye-level.

  “You ruined my ice cream,” I sniveled. “I just wanted some damn ice cream.”

  Just behind the outrage, amusement danced in Blake’s eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. I looked up and realized he hadn’t had time to clean up after the incident. His silk shirt was torn and singed. He was filthy. His normally flawless hair was a complete wreck and he had a small gash on the left side of his forehead.

  “You’re hurt,” I said and reached up to his face. He grabbed my hand and pushed it back down.

  “I’m not done with you,” he warned.

  I rolled my eyes and tried to stand, only to be pushed back down. I glared up at Blake and tried to stand again. This time he merely sighed and stood back.

  “Sit.” I pointed to the couch. Blake gave me a bland look and sat.

  I stepped over the melting ice cream and rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to find my first aid kit. I found it next to a Snickers bar and snatched both up.

  “Put it back,” Blake said from the couch.

  “Eric, your forehead is cut. You can let me clean it and put a bandage on it.”

  He raised his eyebrows, causing a trail of blood to leak down the left side of his eye. “I’m not talking about the first aid kit, Jennings,” he replied. “I’m talking about the candy bar.”

  I blushed and crammed the Snickers back in the cabinet. “It wasn’t candy. It was fruit,” I said as I walked back to the living room.

  Blake rolled his eyes. “Anna, fruit doesn’t come in a crinkly wrapper. I’d have to be deaf not to hear you fiddling with that.”

  I sniffed and knelt down in front of him to begin cleaning the cut on his forehead.

  “What did you think you were doing?” he asked, his voice had returned to its original frigidness.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Carl called. He was following Lloyd Vance. He saw you were in trouble so he called me.”

  Eric gave a dry laugh. “So he called you? What the hell were you supposed to do about it?”

  His tone was just a little too patronizing. I could feel my cheeks getting hot. “Funny,” I snapped. “As I recall, it was just the other day that we saved your asses from being electrocuted one at a time.”

  I clenched my jaw shut and unwrapped a bandaid. “Hold still,” I ordered. I applied the bandaid and looked down into his eyes. The ma
n has the most beautiful eyes. Our faces were close enough for me to see the flecks of violet mixed in with the bright cobalt blue of his irises.

  “Anna,” he said softly.

  I snapped back to the moment and cleared my throat. “Does anyone else know I was there?” I asked as I rose to throw away the wrappers.

  “No. Although I don’t know how they can’t. You weren’t exactly the definition of sneaky.” He remarked. “Anna, you could have been killed. You were completely irresponsible, insubordinate and foolish.”

  By that point I had had just about enough of Eric Blake’s little lecture. I reached forward and smacked the freshly bandaged wound.

  He winced and leapt to his feet. “God damn it! Grow up, Anna!” he shouted. “I can’t spend my days and nights worrying about you running off and getting yourself into trouble! Just do what you’re told and stay the hell away from me!”

  Someone cleared their throat from my doorway, causing both of us to spin around. Emmett Vance stood three feet inside my door. His eyes were fierce and I could see the muscles flexing in his jaw. “Step away from her, Blake,” he warned through gritted teeth.

  “This doesn’t concern you, Vance,” Eric retorted.

  “When it concerns Anna, it concerns me,” Emmett said as he took a step toward Eric. Both of them had balled their hands into fists. “Why are you here, anyway?”

  A flash of unease crossed Blake’s face before he could control it. “I’m friends with Anna’s brother, Michael. He and I were down the street at that new whiskey bar and some asshole punched me. I came here for a bandaid.”

  It was probably the lamest excuse I’d heard in a long time. Apparently Emmett felt the same way.

  “Blake, that makes zero sense,” he accused, stepping into the living room.

  “It doesn’t have to make sense, Vance. I can visit Anna for whatever reason I want.” Blake crossed his arms over his chest and glared back at Emmett.