Page 47 of Enchanted Hero (The Secret Enchanters #1)

T hank you for reading Enchanted Hero. I hope you enjoyed their romantic world.

Dr. James Blackburn would uncover every secret.

Muscles tightened and flexed. Powerful biceps pushed against a snow-white lab coat, taut across an expansive chest. Capable hands moved in expert fashion across the most volatile substances known to man, intent on exposing the very laws of the universe.

Focus forged by fiery intent, James quashed any and all nerves, yet he appreciated the importance of his next move.

Few projects held such danger ? or potential rewards ? as this moment's journey.

The surroundings were but a blur, all but forgotten.

The world's leading biological researcher ignored the inquisitive glances of students peering through the glass pane windows, most certainly more curious about a celebrity in their midst than the scientific breakthrough of the year.

A serenely smiling sun splashed golden rays into the sterile room of white and space age silver, over state-of-the-art equipment whose price soared far beyond seven digits.

The baby blue Florida sky tolerated neither a cloud nor a gust of wind as it watched over the manicured green lawns and stately brick buildings of the University of Orlando.

Not once did James lose his focus. Not with this experiment and most certainly not with these compounds. One wrong move and the entire experiment would be destroyed, taking hundreds of thousands of dollars in grant money with it.

Mix the contents of test tube A with beaker B, and then beaker C with beaker D.

Place everything in a large bowl, then stir.

James slowly followed the experiment's recipe, holding his breath until the last compound had been mixed and danger averted.

As the mixture bubbled and boiled, brewing like a witch's creation, his lips curved up.

Astounding, and just as he'd suspected. Without taking his eyes from the compound, the professor strode to his desk, sank into his $5,000 custom-built executive chair and jotted down rapid words.

The bowl rattled.

James stopped and stared, the smile dying on his lips as he lowered the heavy golden pen.

Slowly, he rose to his full six foot three height, his focus not once leaving the innocent looking glass.

Nothing in the compounds could possibly cause movement; once combined they were as stable as H2O.

With slow but confident steps, he approached the bowl, stopping as it shook once more, clearly unperturbed that its movements didn't quite fit in with the laws of physics.

And that's when it really began.

A beaker joined in on the fun, first one glass bottle, then another and another.

Chimes rang through the air as they toasted each other in congratulatory array, as an ever-increasing number of items rattled and shook, dancing to an imaginary rock and roll concert.

James stood frozen, amidst the single certainty in a world gone awry: His experiment hadn't caused this.

Could it be some weather phenomenon? A natural event? It must be, but Florida didn't have earthquakes. They did, however, have tornados.

The air sizzled with static electricity as the contents of the room ? by fate's grace everything save him ? rose suddenly in the air, taking flight.

They floated as if on a magic carpet, bobbing up and down in an impossible pattern.

Gravity was taking a vacation day, and the objects calmly took notice.

Then the wind came.

At first it was just a slight breeze, a tiny puff of air.

Quickly it turned into something stronger, harder, punishing.

It swirled and it pivoted, moving this way and that, slapping against his skin and burning his eyes.

The objects flew around him, quicker and quicker, and in seconds formed a single unit, a blur that surrounded him with no beginning and no end.

A never-ending explosion sounded, a constant booming that journeyed from loud to louder and then to deafening, as if he rode on the underbelly of a runaway train as it careened down the tracks.

James fought the eye of the impossible tornado, captured by the wall of objects sweeping around him.

The wind pushed at him, asserting its power, and only a stance honed from years of martial arts practice allowed him to remain standing.

The power of the windstorm rose higher, higher, higher, sabotaging his footing under the flickering lights.

Endless questions churned, one taking precedence above them all:

What could cause an indoor tornado?

Something caught his eye ? several somethings – or someones .

Had students snuck in? James tried to call to them, but they remained completely still, a seemingly impossible task in the raging storm.

The flickering lights hid their features, the swirling objects their bodies.

Fear for their safety bubbled in his chest, and he pushed against the gusts to reach them, but the wind simply shoved back.

James yelled, but the wind drained out the sound, the shadows his movements.

Time was infinite since the windstorm began, a paradox to a world flowing in grueling slowness.

How long before he was caught in its swirls, taken for the same ride as the unwilling objects?

The world turned topsy-turvy as his feet lifted from the floor; his ticket had been collected and stamped, and the roller coaster ride was about to begin. And suddenly…

It ended.

James slammed his hands over his ears as thunderous sounds roared – beakers crashing, chemicals bubbling, expensive computer equipment shattered beyond recognition.

In seconds he stood in the graveyard of the biology lab, surrounded by destroyed equipment, caustic compounds and a long-forgotten experiment.

He pivoted, the medical doctor in him immediately ready to triage the students, but they were nowhere to be seen. He stood alone .

He spun to the glass windows, hunting the thunderous tornado that had ravaged his lab and surely the world.

But outside was the Jekyll to his Hyde; behind an audience of staring, astonished and trembling college students was a day exactly as he recalled: sunny, calm and cloudless.

No leaves scattered the ground, and not a single student appeared windswept.

The tornado had occurred inside the lab.

Screams sounded amidst shrieking alarms and frantic conversation, emerging from a rapidly approaching crowd. James pivoted towards the door, which now stood completely open. Well, not exactly open, for that would require a door .

"What happened?" Dr. Frankel, an assistant professor, raced in and doubled over, gasping heavy breaths of thickened air. Rail thin, with even skinnier strands of hair that still managed disarray, the assistant lifted his head and froze. "What did this?" he whispered. “ Who did this?”

James didn't respond. Instead, he stood silent as hordes of professors and emergency staff flooded what remained of the biology lab. The word “tornado” flew like a ball at Wimbledon, amidst a sea of shattered glass, snaking wires and endless destroyed experiments. The storm hadn’t spared the furnishings, overturning solid wood tables, smashing scientific equipment like a toddler with Legos, destroying years of deep research in the span of seconds.

Paramedics rushed to him, eager to check over the university's prized possession, but James waved them away. Despite the fierce storm, he remained relatively unscathed, less so than after some of his more rambunctious martial arts tournaments.

What. Had. Happened? A tornado seemed the perfect culprit, but since those adhered to the fairly consistent habit of occurring outdoors, that theory held no merit.

Any other who witnessed it might have suggested sorcery.

Of course, scientific laws made that impossible, and as a lifelong scientist, James believed in everything and anything logical, and nothing beyond.

But something had happened. As head scientist, it was his duty to find out exactly what and most importantly who, and he would not stop until he did.

He knew exactly where to look first. "Gentlemen…

" For the first time since the windstorm hit, he spoke in his deep baritone voice. "Take me to the security office."

He smiled a humorless grin. "Show me the surveillance video."