Power Up: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book 2)

  Power Up

  Supernatural Prison Trilogy

  Aella Black

  Copyright © 2020 by Aella Black

  Published by Grape Ape Publishing.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover designed by Paradise Cover Design

  Formatting by Emma Thomas

  To Deandra… your friendship has been a gift,

  your help with these books, invaluable.

  I can’t thank you enough.

  Contents

  Preface

  Prologue

  1. Xander

  2. Phoebe

  3. Xander

  4. Phoebe

  5. Xander

  6. Phoebe

  7. Xander

  8. Phoebe

  9. Xander

  10. Phoebe

  11. Xander

  12. Phoebe

  13. Xander

  14. Phoebe

  15. Xander

  16. Phoebe

  17. Xander

  18. Phoebe

  19. Xander

  20. Phoebe

  About the Author

  “Nearly all men can stand adversity,

  but if you want to test a man’s character,

  give him power.”

  Abraham Lincoln

  Prologue

  I was prepared to die.

  It didn’t matter if I hid. They always found me.

  It didn’t matter if I fought back. They always won.

  Yet something inside me—self-preservation, maybe?—refused to go down without a fight.

  Perhaps that’s why the other inmates got so much enjoyment in toying with me during our sparring sessions. I would inevitably die, but I’d kick and scream until the bitter end.

  Case in point: now.

  I raised my leg, preparing to strike a knee or shin, both weak spots I’d learned to target. But Hunter swung, the punch landing squarely in my face. A sickening crunch caused hot pain to burst through my skull. I stumbled away from him, clutching my now-bleeding nose.

  Blood was everywhere. It slicked my hands. Dripped onto the white tile floor like macabre rose petals.

  But that was no floral scent that filled my nostrils.

  I hunched over, using my free hand to cover my mouth. As if that could stop my breakfast from making another appearance.

  Hunter didn’t let up. He sprinted across the room, his feet kicking off the ground and eating up the wall as he ran toward the ceiling. Blood trickled down my throat when I looked up to see him now hanging like a bat above me.

  A wicked grin was the only warning I received before Hunter pushed off the ceiling and dropped... right on top of me.

  From the floor, I caught a glimpse of the one-way mirror where I knew others watched. Scientists. Guards. And my very own mother.

  I was nothing more than a lab rat to them. To her.

  Groaning in pain, I struggled to heave myself up, but Hunter pinned me to the spot with only a single outstretched arm.

  A more courageous person might have dared him to just kill me already. But I wasn’t brave. No matter how many times it happened, I was still scared to death of dying.

  I tried twisting away, screaming as another hard hit landed on my cheekbone. I could feel the skin split. Then, a blood-crazed glee filling his eyes, Hunter aimed for my ribs.

  Several broke.

  It hurt to scream now. I gripped his arms, then his shirt, begging him to stop. But both of us knew that wasn’t the way this worked.

  Finally, Hunter grabbed my head. “Nighty-night, Phoenix.”

  And with one twist, he snapped my neck.

  1

  Xander

  Three months earlier…

  The door slammed behind me with enough force to rattle my brain, which was already in questionable shape after becoming acquainted with the barrel of a gun.

  The Lansing prison guards seemed determined to distinguish themselves from the ones at Leavenworth. As if it were a contest. If so, one hour here and the winner was clear.

  But the real losers were us.

  Teenagers with unexplainable powers we never asked for, yet they locked us up like we were murderers. Was it any surprise when one of the inmates killed for the chance to be free?

  Not that it made any difference. We hadn’t been able to break out of Leavenworth, and the odds of leaving Lansing looked bleaker by the minute.

  There were guards everywhere.

  And each one was armed to the teeth. Guns, tasers, tear gas grenades, tranquilizers, and even Ka-Bars, gnarly-looking knives I’d only ever seen in movies.

  I only knew this because one of the guards who escorted me to my cell got off on showing me the deadly array of weaponry at his disposal. The other, irritated I wasn’t moving fast enough, was responsible for the knot forming on the back of my head. I rubbed the spot while watching them walk away.

  A toilet flushed, and I whipped around. If my time in captivity had taught me anything, it was to always watch my back. This was even more important in a prison full of inmates with unknown powers.

  The door to the small bathroom opened, and it wasn’t just the smell that made my stomach turn.

  I thought I had the cell to myself. Hoped I did. After my previous cellmate ended up being a backstabbing traitor who’d blown our bid for freedom, I was less than enthusiastic to share breathing space with anyone.

  But the goal was to get out of here—sooner rather than later, if possible. To that end, I needed to play nicely with others. Starting now.

  A guy walked out, leaving the door open behind him. I tried to not look as disgusted as I felt. Even an only child like me knew to close the bathroom door after making a deposit in the porcelain bank.

  Well, stainless steel in this case. Whatever.

  I forced my body to stay loose while sizing up my new cellmate. Younger than me by a few years, the scrawny guy crossed his arms and eyed me the way a fox might eye a fat chicken.

  From what little I knew of Lansing prior to our arrival, the most dangerous supernaturals were kept here. So considering this kid was a hundred pounds soaking wet, my guess was he had some serious power to back up the ballsy look he was giving me.

  “Hey, I’m Xander,” I said, raising my chin.

  My politician parents would be mortified. It was practically drilled in me since birth to shake hands when meeting someone. But the memory of being shocked on my first day at Leavenworth was still fresh, and this guy was a complete mystery.

  “Venom.”

  Oh, right. Nicknames. “My friends call me Chief. You can call me whichever you prefer.”

  It was a question disguised as a statement. I’d rather have him as a friend than a foe, but I wanted him to know the choice was his to make.

  Venom cocked his head. The guy’s hair was a mess. It looked like he’d lathered up his hands with Crisco and tried to form a mohawk. On second thought, maybe that’s what he did. He was clearly going through a phase.

  “What’s your po
wer?” he asked.

  I stood a little taller. “Super strength.”

  “That’s it?”

  It occurred to me that this might have been the first time in my life someone wasn’t impressed with who I was or what I could do. And now I was really curious what the kids here could do.

  “Yeah, that’s it.” I fought the urge to show him exactly what super strength looked like in action. “What’s yours? Wait, let me guess… something to do with poison.”

  Venom smiled. I didn’t like it. Too many small, spaced-out teeth. Worse was the crazed look in his eyes when he did it.

  “My saliva,” he said proudly. “I’ve even learned to spit. Like a snake.”

  I flinched. I couldn’t help it. “I hope you don’t projectile drool in your sleep.”

  His smile widened.

  I walked over to my bed and sat down, my eyes never veering from my cellmate who quite literally dripped venom. He followed my lead. That was promising, at least. And the guy was creepy, but he wasn’t a jerk like Woody had been from the first day we met.

  My hands clenched into fists at the thought of that traitor. Venom’s gaze shot to my hands, finally breaking our staredown.

  Shifting, I attempted to get comfortable. It seemed impossible, but these beds were worse than the ones at Leavenworth.

  Then, in an effort to focus on something other than the crappy night of sleep in my immediate future, I asked, “So what’s it like here?”

  Venom shrugged. “Some days are worse than others.” Not some days are better. That pretty much said it all. “I’m surprised to see you guys, to be honest. We rarely get new inmates.”

  “Yeah, it was a surprise to us too,” I told him. “Our prison was going to flood, so we had to leave. Plus, our warden got fired.”

  Even saying it aloud, it was hard to believe. Not that I liked Warden Will, but every indication was that he was a saint compared to the new one.

  Phoebe’s mother.

  I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. The woman barely acknowledged her own flesh and blood. What kind of twisted person acted like that?

  Trying to sound casual, I asked, “So what’s up with the warden here?”

  “Oh, you don’t want to mess with her,” Venom said immediately.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “The worst. Around here, we call her The Witch. We all hate her.”

  Great.

  This didn’t bode well for our future. But… maybe since they shared DNA, Phoebe would be treated better here. Maybe.

  Then again, if the inmates learned of Phoebe’s connection to the warden, she’d have a bright red target on her back. And if she got off easy because of it? That target might as well have been in flashing neon lights.

  Concern knotted my stomach. Phoebe could be in real danger.

  And it wasn’t only inmates I was worried about. Before being escorted to our cells, we were informed that some of the guards had powers and were encouraged to use them if anyone tried anything. If they knew Phoebe could come back to life, would they use their powers against her and get away with it? Or would they be too afraid of angering the warden?

  Even then, what could Phoebe’s mother do? Unless she had powers of her own…

  I ran my hands through my hair, the terrifying thoughts running in screaming circles around my head.

  “The warden isn’t really a witch, is she?” I asked.

  “You mean the kind that flies on a broomstick?” Venom laughed. “Of course not. There are no such things as witches.”

  I didn’t think there were either, but these days nothing would surprise me.

  “Yeah, well, I never thought someone could spit poison or come back to life,” I mumbled.

  “You know someone who can come back to life?” Venom asked immediately.

  I. Was. An. Idiot.

  “No,” I lied. Everyone would eventually learn of Phoebe’s power, but the longer we kept it under wraps, the better. I scrambled for an explanation for my slip-up. “With a power like that, they’d have been here at Lansing, right?”

  “Maybe. Not much help in a fight though,” he pointed out.

  He was right. And that was one more thing for me to worry about.

  Venom looked me up and down. “You should do well.”

  Was this his way of trying to recruit me to a prison gang like Wolf’s? No thanks.

  When I first arrived at Leavenworth, Wolf and his band of not-so-merry men had flocked to me after learning of my power. They wanted me to join their pack, but I wanted no part of it. Not with the way they’d treated Phoebe and the other inmates.

  “I don’t plan on fighting,” I responded.

  Venom’s crazy grin was back. “Oh, you won’t have a choice,” he said. “They’re called ‘sparring sessions.’ It’s how they test how powerful we are.”

  My stomach twisted. “Everyone?”

  Venom nodded, then stretched out on his bed with a yawn. “We take turns. I just had a match yesterday and decimated the girl who uses hallucinations. Those visions worked on me at first, but then she got cocky and let me get too close.” He turned his head to look at me, glee lighting his eyes. “She’s still in the medical ward.”

  I suppressed a shudder. “Has anyone… died?”

  “Oh, yeah. We’re expendable, right? One less mouth to feed. They discourage fighting to the death, but there aren’t really any penalties if someone dies.”

  Panic crawled up my throat. Birdie could talk to birds, but what good would that do unless she’s outside? And Cathy’s ability to speak in someone’s head had come in handy during our escape attempt, but it wouldn’t help her in a fight. Tex’s color-changing power was cool but ultimately useless, and Cal’s inability to get drunk was too. Rocky stood a fighting chance if there were rocks lying around for her to transform into weapons, but what was the likelihood of that?

  Leavenworth had been full of kids with powers, just not dangerous ones. I wasn’t meant to go there originally, but my parents negotiated some kind of deal to keep me out of Lansing.

  A lot of good that did me.

  Did they know I was here now? And if they did, would they step in to help?

  No. There was no way they knew. My parents were a little cold and power-hungry, but they weren’t cruel. They wouldn’t stand by while children were being tortured or forced to fight, possibly to the death.

  “What are you nervous about?” Venom asked. “You’ll be fine, if you’re really as strong as you say.”

  Sure, I would be okay. I wasn’t worried about that. But my Leavenworth friends might not be. Phoebe might not be. Once the inmates discovered that they could kill her and she’d resurrect, it would be a bloodbath.

  I shuddered, my throat going dry. My cellmate had relaxed onto his cot and was now staring up at the ceiling, so I settled back onto mine. But the looming prospect of an uncomfortable night of sleep faded to the far corner of my mind as I thought of the terrors awaiting Leavenworth’s inmates.

  “One last thing,” Venom said, not bothering to look over at me. “Key to surviving this place? Just take care of yourself. Don’t get attached to anyone or anything.”

  Too late for that.

  2

  Phoebe

  A billow of cigarette smoke clouded my face as a guard leaned in, glaring at me through the bars. “You’re a scrawny one,” he observed.

  I closed my eyes and mouth to keep the smoke out and my thoughts in.

  Warden Will hadn’t allowed his guards to smoke on duty, but it seemed the Lansing guards could do whatever they wanted. And the person who gave them that freedom?

  My mother.

  I still couldn’t believe it. Not only was she here, but she’d been here for years. And it wasn’t like we lived halfway across the country. She could have commuted here for work. Lots of people did it, Xander’s father included. Sure, he spent more time in Washington D.C. than with his family in Kansas, but at least he didn’t disappear without a word.

>   In the brief time I’d seen my mother in action since our arrival, it was obvious this wasn’t just a job to her. This was her life. It was evident in the way she barely acknowledged me—her very own daughter—when she saw me. No hug, no explanation, and certainly no apology. As if I were a stranger to her.

  My nostrils burned. Hard to tell if it was the smoke or unshed tears causing it. Then the coughing began.

  “Leave her alone, Saul,” a female voice said behind me. My eyes flew open.

  That wasn’t Rocky.

  I blinked, the smoke stinging my eyes. For the first time, I took a good look at the guard whose smug face was inches from the cell bars. He didn’t have a cigarette. “What, you don’t like the smoke?”

  He inhaled a deep breath and blew it out through his nose. A dirty gray fog crept down my windpipe, and I coughed again. Panic spiked through me. It didn’t smell like cigarettes anymore.

  It was smoke from a fire, not unlike the one I died in mere months ago.

  My lungs burned. The girl behind me began to choke and splutter as the smoke filled the cell, and the flashback of the house fire became more vivid.

  The twins had nearly been killed because of the deadly smoke that had filled their lungs. Instinctively, I reached behind and grabbed the girl’s arm, pulling her close.

  “Saul!” she gasped. “Stop!”

  I could no longer see the looming face of the guard, but his dark chuckle made its way through the thick fog. “See you in the morning, ladies.” Boots echoed across the floor as he walked away.

  The air began to clear, and I fanned away the remaining tendrils. “What… was that?” I rasped. My heart beat wildly against my chest and my head swam. Was I about to faint?