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  Accelerant

  The PTB Alliance Book 2

  Katelyn Beckett

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living, dead, undead, masked, or unmasked, events, places, or names is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transferred in any form or by any means without the written permission of the author. Upload and/or distribution of this book without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law.

  Text © 2020 Katelyn Beckett

  Cover by Enchanted Ink Studio

  Keep up to date on the whole series! Atonement: The PTB Alliance Book 1 can be found here!

  For Dakota, who makes all the wheels go round and round.

  Chapter 1

  The physical therapist took my hand in hers and curled my fingers backward until I was ready to scream. "Say when, Miss Clark."

  "When!"

  I yanked away from her, my vision clouded by a haze of electricity. Yet there was no rush of mania, no crushing force encouraging me to smash her head through the wall. It was weird to not have the urge to beat something to a pulp when I was hurt. I wasn’t certain if I’d ever get used to it.

  Being normal wasn't for me. I was a superhero, the one and only Strikeout. And I was firmly aligned with the PTB Alliance.

  And after a knockdown, drag-out fight, I was completely powerless.

  "Again," ordered my torturer, Lindy Paige.

  "Just give me ten minutes," I sighed.

  "Not on your life. We have to get you street-ready as quick as we can. That's the orders."

  I glared at her. "From who? Scribe's sharing my room with me and he hasn't woken up yet."

  Lindy pursed her lips at me and got up, leaving me in silence. I watched her go, then flexed my fingers again, inward this time. They protested, but nowhere near as loudly as they had when she'd been bending them the other way. Still, I didn't think that they were going to be up to their usual fight-ready capacity any time soon.

  We'd gotten lucky. According to the doctors, all of us had pulled through. Though my boyfriends (that's right, I've got two of them) hadn't come to visit me yet, I'd been told that was due to them needing to stay in bed. Adam was nursing a lot of problems. Edwin had a broken ankle, along with the rest of the bruises and general beaten up junk he was dealing with. And me?

  Like I said, no powers. No super healing. No punchy-smashy. It was very possible that I was done in the superhero industry. I might be stuck on the sidelines for the rest of my life.

  Blitzers were known to burn out, eventually. I didn't think it would happen when I was still so young, but it was a common enough that the Alliance had standards for its occurrence. Sometimes we got our powers back. More often than not, we were left to live out normal, typical lives for the rest of whatever remained.

  Most of us died from massive heart attacks a couple of years later. The body really isn't made to deal with the everyday stresses Blitzers force on it. Without the healing that tends to accompany a great deal of superpowers, Blitzers don't have the time to recover the way they need to. When our powers fade, all of them tend to go at once. That means the healing, too. And that means that all the pressure we've put on our hearts, our lungs, our adrenal glands; all of it goes to hell pretty fast.

  The average lifespan of a Blitzer is 50. The oldest I've ever known was 72.

  As far as I know, I'm the youngest full-time Blitzer to burn out like this in the past few decades.

  Still better than a fly boy, who typically hit planes or something in their early hot-shot 20s, but you know. Fly boys.

  I groaned as I got to my feet, everything complaining at me about such a terrible decision. The world stayed level, which was better than it had the first few times I'd gotten out of bed. Still, spots of color popped in my vision and threatened to put me down. I glared, shook my head, and dragged myself out of the room. I didn't want to be there when Lindy got back.

  The last time I'd started complaining, she'd dragged a doctor down and had her carefully explain why I needed to work with the physical therapist. It wasn't that I didn't want to do it. It was that it hurt after so many times of the same exercises, over and over again, and I wanted a break.

  If the doctors were paying attention, they'd know where to look. Hell, there was only one place I could really go.

  My room overlooked the rooftops outside. We weren't that high up, but we were high enough that I could see a couple of blocks down before the skyscrapers started to block off my vision.

  "Hey, Lamar," I said as I passed the still form in the bed.

  Scribe had run the Alliance before the nightmare three weeks ago. He'd intended to go home after sorting out the remaining details at the carnival benefit, probably hang out with his kid and maybe have dinner with her. Emma hadn't been by to visit her dad. I assumed public services had stepped in to care for her while he was unconscious.

  The rest of us involved in the battle that put down Isabella Reed, alias Melody, in her attempt to take over the Alliance had woken up. Scribe hadn't. She'd thrown him into a power generator thing; like the type that power neighborhoods. Substation; that's it. We all thought he'd been killed.

  He wasn't, though he'd have debated the point with us. The doctors didn't know if he'd ever wake up. I sat down on my bed and rubbed my forehead with the heel of my less sore hand. If Scribe wasn't calling the shots and trying to get me back on the street, who was?

  It wasn't as if I had anything to give. Not yet. If my powers restored themselves, sure. I'd be back in the fight in no time. If I could.

  I laid back and picked up the remote. On went the tv and there was a report about a Pyro superhero. A superhero named Ardent.

  And this time, they knew who she was.

  "Ardent, possibly the superhero formerly known as Ember, has been taking care of the streets while the PTB Alliance is rebuilding. Yarborough News Nightly is proud to break this story wide open, noting-"

  "That the prints found on the scene match thought-to-be-dead superhero Ember," I finished aloud.

  I hadn't been dreaming when I was flat on my back those few weeks ago. As I laid on the road, my heart giving out, I'd felt her flames. I'd heard her voice.

  It was one I never thought I'd hear again. Five years ago, I'd accidentally mixed a cocktail of medication for my girlfriend that had killed her; so I thought. I'd spent all those years in prison for a crime I'd never meant to commit.

  Now I knew I hadn't committed anything. I'd never been a murderer. Nishelle had... had...

  ...Nishelle was alive, but what did that mean?

  I loved her. I loved her so much that it hurt, like fire against bare skin, burning away every layer until there was nothing left to hide. And when my hour had been up, when my life had been at its darkest, her flames had lit up the night once again.

  She saved my life.

  But then, where the hell was she?

  Every report, every flicker of her in the public eye. She was alive. Nishelle was alive but she wasn't here at the hospital with me. She wasn't making sure I was okay. But she'd saved my life.

  Women were confusing.

  "I heard someone escaped Ms. Paige down in the physical therapy wing."

  I looked up at the golden skin, the dark hair, and a smile that made me want to slap him. My cheeks burned all the same because who couldn't look at Nate and blush? The guy was gorgeous and he'd lost everything when his fiancée joined Melody's side and went villain on us all. I wasn't going to take advantage, even if I was tempted to.

  "If you're here to lecture me, the door is right behind you."

  "I'm not here to do anything other than tell you that your boys are cleared to come visit," Nate said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "And that Adam's trying to ea
t us out of house and home."

  "Dunno why you're surprised by that. He does that when we're at home," I said, sitting back up. "How're you?"

  He paused and the smile slipped a little. "About as well as can be expected after everything that's happened."

  "I was a mess, after" I said, reaching for his arm. He let me put my hand on it. "If you want to talk-"

  "I'll be fine," he said, slamming the emotional door on me. "You're still too beat up to worry about me. Any hint of the powers coming back in?"

  "Only when you talk like a dumbass," I said, sighing. "Just know I'm here if you need me, okay? I know what it's like. I know what it is."

  "I know you do, but I can't burden a patient with this..." His voice dropped off and his brows knit. "If she'd just told me, Cassie. If she'd just said one damned thing. That I wasn't doing something right, that I wasn't enough for her. I'd have tried to fix it."

  "You can't fix something like that," I said.

  He sighed and I wrapped my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder. It was the same kind of pose you'd see in a bad tv movie or one of those awful afterschool specials about drugs. You know, the ones that drove all of us to drinking and smoking weed behind the gym. Here's a tip: don't make illicit activities look so fun if you don't want edgy, rebellious teenagers to do them.

  "What I do is fix things like that. I try to fix everything and it all falls apart anyway. I don't know what the point is anymore. I don't think I'm cut out to take care of things like this."

  I nestled him. "Then don't. Do superhero work full-time and let the medics take care of this stuff. You're a talented guy, Nate. You've got plenty of ability and you don't have to spread yourself so thin."

  "I don't know. There's nothing better than saving a life here. Even the hero stuff, I'm not much of a hero so much as I'm-"

  "A brawler?" I asked him. "Someone to take the hits and take someone else down? Yeah, I don't know anything about that."

  He smiled. "You know that's not what I'm saying."

  "Coming in here and defaming punchy girls to their faces," I huffed, grinning at him.

  Nate shook his head and pulled me into a hug. It was a careful, gentle thing and I realized I fit absolutely perfectly into his arms. I shoved the thought away for later realization. Nate didn't need someone like me as his bounce-back. He didn't need anybody as his bounce-back until he was ready for it.

  And, again, I didn't need to be that person to him. Right?

  Right.

  There was a solid thump outside and a torrent of cursing. Someone's foot and the edge of a wheelchair appeared around one side of the door. I raised my brows at Nate, who let go of me and went over to check. A moment later, he helped Edwin into the room, wheelchair and all.

  My little technical genius was in pieces. Stitches everywhere. He'd been taken out earlier on in the fight, but it hadn't been early enough. He still looked like he'd been on the front lines of a warzone. Especially since he had his whole leg wrapped up like it was about to fall off. I let Nate roll him to me rather than get up and show off my absolutely functional legs.

  "They finally let me out of that room," Edwin snapped, testy already.

  I leaned down and kissed him. He pulled himself into my bed through the kiss, dipping me like some kind of silly dance number. I smiled against his lips and felt the faintest tingling of my power try to snap back to life. Agony surged through me and I pulled away, gasping and clawing at the sheets.

  "Easy there, tiger," Nate said, dragging Edwin back into his chair. "She gets too worked up and she's right back to square one. You know how Blitzers are."

  "I know her physiology better than you do," Edwin grumbled.

  "Boys," I said, frowning at Edwin. "I can manage myself. It hurts. I'll live."

  "Maybe," Adam said. "Or maybe they'll just all rip you apart before I get here."

  Nate rolled his eyes, saluted me, and left. Clearly, he didn't want to involve himself or... interfere? I sighed after him, wishing I could do more than give him a hug. Sure, I'd had a thing for him for years. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with noticing people even if you were in a committed relationship, you know? But he'd been in one, too. And it really, really was taking all of my self-control to keep from trying to wiggle something in with him already.

  I shook my head to clear away the thought and forced myself to stop being so... so damn horny all over everything. Was it the painkillers? Or something else they were giving me? God, I wasn't usually like that.

  Adam walked over to me and sat down next to me on the bed, offering me a cupcake. It had sprinkles.

  I beamed at him and took the plastic container. "My doctor says I'm not allowed to have sweets. The blood glucose is a little high."

  "You exist on an entirely different plane than his usual patients," Edwin said. "I keep tabs on the medical reports. You were fine a month ago. Eat the cupcake."

  "Only since you've given me permission," I said, popping open the container. I kissed Adam's cheek. "You're the best."

  "What the hell," Edwin frowned. "I gave you permission, not him."

  "I went and got it for her."

  "I told you to do it."

  "Yeah but I have the legs to do it."

  "I will wheel you right out that window, fly boy-"

  "Do they really have you two sharing a room?" I asked, looking between them as I finished my cupcake. I licked my fingers clean. Pointedly.

  They ignored me, which is stupid. It always works in all those dumb romcoms.

  "They locked me up with Adam and won't let me out," Edwin sighed.

  Adam stuck his chest out, his chin up. "Like it's a punishment for you to marvel at this all day long."

  As he moved to flex, impressively no doubt, his back caught and he flinched. I watched the stitch rip along his right bicep and sighed, gently pushing his arm to his side. "Don't tear yourself up just to get back at him. Besides, you're just as goofy as ever. You aren't upset about Izzy?"

  I wished I'd never said anything. Darkness stole over Adam's features and he pulled, gently, away from me. He picked up the plastic container on my lap, kissed my cheek, and left the room in utter silence.

  I stared after him at a complete loss for words. My glance at Edwin got a shrug in return. "I think that should answer your question. He won't even speak her name right now."

  "Damn it," I sighed. "I didn't know. I thought he was... I thought maybe he'd come to terms with it."

  "Cassie, I don't know if he'll ever do that," Edwin said. "It's his sister."

  Not as if I knew anything about sibling stuff. I'd been an only child, my mother having plenty of difficulties just carrying me. It was assumed, afterward, that it was because I had such different powers than the rest of my familial line. Both of my parents had been Psychics. Their parents had been Psychics. And so on and so forth, for generations.

  No one had thought they'd produce a Blitzer like me.

  "I'll make it up to him tonight, if you can talk him into seeing me," I told Edwin, my tone not quite pleading.

  He rolled his eyes. "It's Adam. He'll forgive you for a hug and an apology. But it's something you need to step lightly around. He's not going to be the same person for a while, I think."

  And with that, he turned and headed after his new roommate. I watched him go, my hands in my lap and feeling guilty. If I'd gotten their room number, I could have called Adam and apologized. After all, we had a wall phone on the desk between me and Scribe. The EMTs had been a bit too busy keeping us all alive to worry about grabbing our cell phones from our bedrooms; or wherever they'd landed.

  I'd give him a little while to cool down and then call the directory, I told myself. That was the best thing to do, the best plan laid. Just let him have his head for a little bit and then... then we could talk about the future.

  The news had moved on to talking about the Alliance building being rebuilt and I was glad of it. With Lamar unconscious beside me, Adam upset, Edwin broken, and Na
te nursing his emotional wounds, the last person I wanted to see on television was the one who made me feel so vulnerable. So shattered.

  So lost.

  I didn't know when I fell asleep, sitting there, but when I awoke the sky had darkened to the deep, midnight blue most people associated with Starry Night. I turned off the television and something to my left caught my attention.

  There, settled in a white vase with gold glitter through it, sat a bundle of flowers. I recognized them immediately, but it'd been years since anyone had sent them to me. Fire poppies only grow after a blaze wakes them up from their dormant state. Like a phoenix, they rise from the ashes and become something beautiful.