Charles adjusted his tie as he scanned Olivia and her crew for the first time. When his gaze landed on me, a faint divot appeared between his brows; the impression of a man accessing an internal data bank as he tried and failed to figure out how I fit into the equation.
Neither man had asked us to introduce ourselves, so I assumed that, if they werefans, both groups were known through their social media presences and YouTube channels. Except for me. My face had never appeared on Olivia’s YouTube channel because I was not a Wind Rider. Although Mr. Charles Gallant seemed to come to this conclusion, he didn’t question my presence, focusing on the laptop instead.
A moment later, the giant display screen at the front of the room lit up with an image. A night sky. An angry, dense mountain of cumulonimbus clouds shot through with a combination of forked and spider lightning. Indigo, pinks, and various shades of mauve reflected off the vapors.
In the center of the image were the wordsStormz Rising. TheZin Stormz was shaped like its own lightning bolt, and the font was edgy and daring, flickering with the lightning and glowing with a neon hue.
“Gentlemen,” Charles’s voice boomed simultaneously with a rumble of thunder from overhead speakers.
Everyone in the room looked up and around.
Charles grinned.
Dennis cocked a brow at the producer and cleared his throat, subtly tipping his head to our side of the table.
Charles’s gaze flicked to Olivia and Maggie before he amended the statement. “Pardon me.Ladiesand gentlemen. I’m thrilled to present the birth of a new and exclusive miniseries, premiering summer 2026, with the pilot episode tentatively scheduled for July sixth.” Another crack of thunder. The words on the screen flashed.
Charles continued once the rumble petered off. “Stormz Rising will be CineVision Entertainment’s next big hit. People love to get their hearts racing. They love danger. They love risk. They love the power of Mother Nature.”
The screen changed, showing a video of a lightning storm over prairie land, with a distinct, slowly rotating wall cloud visible on the horizon. The trees in the distance were bent by the high wind. Every chaser in the room recognized the first sign of cyclonic motion and sat up, paying attention.
All, that is, except me. I’d spend four years studying this material. Instead, I watched my sister light up at the chance to be part of a show. I watched Ozrik’s crew salivate as they stared at the screen. Excitement sparkled in Ozrik’s eyes. Even across the table, he radiated with an undeniable energy.
“Mostly,” Charles continued, “people love danger so long as it’s happening to someone else, and they can watch it unfold from the comfort of their living room. Am I right?”
A few chuckles arose. Ozrik and his buddy, Vern, bumped fists. One of his other friends—I thought his name was Noah—leaned over and whispered something in Ozrik’s ear. In aninstant, Ozrik’s demeanor changed, and he narrowed his gaze at the screen.
“What I’m planning”—Charles was in full production mode—“is a reality-based show that will capture the essence of what you do best. I want to take viewers along for the ride of a lifetime, so they too can witness the heart-pumping power of a tornado chase.”
Again, the screen changed, showing a thinly dissipating rope snaking across the sky, the final stage of a diminishing tornado. The camera’s motion and instability suggested the video had been recorded from the window of a moving vehicle.
“Is this our footage?” the guy I presumed to be Noah asked. “That’s my fucking footage.”
Charles beamed. “Yes! Good eye, my friend. Borrowed, of course, to give you an idea of what we have planned. Your YouTube channel is an excellent stepping stone and has garnered a lot of attention. My goal is to take you to the next level, polish what you already do, and add studio flavor to help it flow. Same raw footage, with better production, edited to create heightened tension. We’ll include more background information about chasing and compile interviews with team members to give the audience a taste of who you are.”
I hated it more and more.
Ozrik diverted his attention to my sister, perhaps to see what she thought of all this, but Olivia was too engrossed in Charles’s presentation. Instead of turning back to the front of the room, Ozrik’s gaze landed on me. I couldn’t look away fast enough.
“We’re looking for a five-person team to star in this miniseries.” In case we couldn’t count to five, Charles held up the corresponding number of fingers.
Something akin to irritation crossed Charles’s face before he continued. “Originally”—he cut his gaze briefly to Dennis—“Iplanned to give this opportunity to Mr. Devereaux and his wonderful group of chasers.”
To Ozrik, he said, “I’m a longtime subscriber and avid supporter of Twisted Fates. Your videos are spectacular. Engaging. Daring. Heart-pumping. Your fans love you.Ilove you.”
“Might as well offer to suck his dick,” Olivia muttered under her breath to Maggie, although it wasn’t quiet, and I was certain the entire room heard.
I cracked my knee against hers hard enough that she winced and shot me a dirty look likeIwas in the wrong.
“Thank you, Charles. We appreciate all our loyal fans.” Ozrik looked about as pleased as a person could get.
“My pleasure. However,” Charles’s smile faltered as he shifted to face the other side of the table. “Mr. Hawking has insisted that I consider your lovely group of chasers as well, Miss… Um… forgive me. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Olivia Windrow,” my sister provided, not looking impressed.
“Yes. Miss Windrow. I hear the”—he referred to a notepad—“Wind Riders are gaining traction on social media as well.”
“We’ve tripled our audience in the past six months alone,” Jazz said when my sister remained silent. “And we’re in off-season.”
