City of Legends: City of Legends, #1

By Cheyanne Young

Maci Knight has grown up in the shadow of legends. Her father and her brother, Max, are Heroes, worshiped by humans and Supers alike for their strength and valor. All she's ever wanted is to follow in their footsteps, to fight villains and protect humankind. But Maci has a secret—one that could change everything.

 

Maci had a twin sister who died the same day they were born. In their world, one twin is always good, while the other always eventually turns evil. There's no way to tell which twin will go rogue . . . which means no one knows if Maci will suddenly become a villain.

 

The closer she gets to her eighteenth birthday, the more she has feelings she can't control: Violence. Rage. Revenge. Maci wants to be a Hero. But she may not have a choice . . .

 

Previously published by Amazon Publishing and Alloy Entertainment, LLC

• Language: English
• Publisher: Quinnova Press
• Release date: Feb 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201783945

Cheyanne Young

Cheyanne Young is a native Texan with a fear of cold weather and a coffee addiction that probably needs an intervention. She loves books, sarcasm, and collecting nail polish. After nearly a decade of working in engineering, Cheyanne now writes books for young adults and is the author of the City of Legends Trilogy. She doesn’t miss a cubicle one bit. Cheyanne lives near the beach with her daughter and husband, one spoiled rotten puppy, and a cat that is most likely plotting to take over the world.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The sun beats down on the zebra print walkway, sending scorching waves of heat through my body. If not for my white training suit and its heat wicking capabilities, the metallic power that courses through my veins might have already burnt me to a crisp. Texas summers are a nightmare. I much prefer my breezy underground home in Central, the Super city built beneath the Grand Canyon.

A lion roars and a toucan squawks through the speaker hidden in the fake rock next to me. It’s a little redundant because real life animal sounds can be heard even outside the gates of the Lone Star Zoo.

Hero Crimson Barlow stops next to a sculpture of a giraffe made with rusted strips of metal twisted and warped into something resembling the massive animal. Her blood red Hero uniform—a form-fitting body suit like mine but fifty times more badass because it’s made with Hero technology—shimmers in the sunlight. White strips of fabric start at her shoulders and dip down to her waist, the lines in the suit accentuating her already perfect curves. She throws a wave of white blonde hair over her shoulder and checks the Codex on the underside of her wrist.

As slim as a sheet of glass and curved to fit her wrist, the Codex is every Hero’s most important tool. It’s smarter than a smartphone and exclusive to only those Supers with Hero status. The rest of the Super people are stuck with boring mods, which are hardly any more advanced than a human’s cell phone.

Watching my best friend pull up her Hero mission on the Codex screen makes my wrist burn with the desire to have my own Codex, my own Hero status, my own missions.

Soon, I tell myself as Crimson motions for me to get closer, giving me a peek at the details of her top-secret mission. I’ve wanted my own Codex for nearly eighteen years and come tomorrow, I’ll finally have it.

I’ll finally be a Hero.

Here’s our suspect villain, she says, tapping the screen. A holographic projection appears in the air, displaying a three-dimensional photo of a man from the shoulders up. Tanned skin, brown shaggy hair, and piercing blue eyes. At the bottom of the holograph are the words Oliver Toca: Suspected endangered animal thief.

My best friend shakes her head slowly and her ruby red lips poke out in a pout. Oh, Oliver, how could you turn villain like this? Gorgeous eyes . . . bitter, hateful heart. She tisks. It’s a sad combination.

Why is he stealing endangered animals? I ask. I’ll be privy to information like this once I’m an official Hero. For now, I’m merely a Hero-in-training and Crimson’s shadow for the day.

She shrugs. Beats me. But it’s our job to stop him. Today he’s going after the Largetooth Sawfish, one of the last of its kind. She nods toward the entrance of the zoo, where the ticket booth now has a queue of humans waiting to get inside. Let’s head to the aquarium.

We bypass the ticket lines and I try not to let my ego overshadow our mission when a little girl in a princess dress pulls a drool-covered finger out of her mouth and points at us. Mommy! Heroes!

The humans in line all turn, bending around one another to get a look at the Legends of King City as we stride through the middle of the two lines. Crimson walks in front of me, shoulders back and head held high. I do the same. No point in telling them there’s only one official Hero in their midst. We’ll both be Heroes in less than twenty-four hours, so there’s no shame in me playing the part.

Because of our power, many Supers feel that we are better than humans. But we get along with them even if we don’t fully understand their unusual ways. We treat them as equals, at least as much as we can.

The aquatic life center is near the front of the zoo, set off to the side in an older looking building with walls covered in vines. Crimson and I split, each scoping out one side of the building to look for anything suspect. I hold my battered mod in my hand, ready to dial Crimson at the first sign of trouble. I am trained and ready to fight, but only she has the Codex and the ability to call for a Retriever once we subdue the villain.

Our perimeter check turns up nothing but a forgotten takeout box. I meet up with her at the back of the building and we walk together toward the entrance. My nose wrinkles. Humans don’t normally smell this bad, I say.

Crimson snorts. You’re smelling the animals. One walk through the gorilla enclosure over there and the stench will fry your nose hairs right off. She elbows me in the arm. Good thing we heal instantly.

You’ve been here before? It occurs to me now that spending the last twelve years in Hero training has left exactly zero time for me to have done anything out in the real world. All I know is Central, the underground city of the Super people, and how to fight imaginary villains in the training room called HQ.

Not this zoo, but one in San Diego. Remember that earthquake?

I nod, recalling how Crimson and my brother, Max, were dispatched to the same mission about a year ago. I had waited anxiously for them to get back and tell me all about it. Crimson and Max are two years older than I am. We all grew up together and spent thousands of hours in Hero Training at HQ. But they both got Hero status at the same time and since then, I’ve had to get used to training alone while they go on awesome Hero missions and continuously save the world. Now, finally, we will all be together again.

This is more of a passive mission, Crimson explains. She leads the way into the aquatic center and the cool dark air is a welcome relief from the sun outside. We’re surrounded by aquariums where fish of all colors and sizes swim around in their vibrant habitats. The best missions are the ones where you arrive on the scene and start kicking ass. She flashes me a devilish smile as we round a tank of neon orange fish. These recon missions suck. You’d think Central would let you go on a fun mission on your last day of training. Maybe they don’t want you to get worn out before your big Hero exam. She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

This is actually my fault, I admit. They were going to send me with Max but I asked to go with you instead.

Aww, shucks, she says, placing a hand over her heart. You’re such a good bestie.

I shrug. All Max does is lecture me on the rules of being a Hero. I’m so sick of being told to watch my back and feel the air. I make air quotes over the last part. Sarcastically, I say, Feel the air, Crimson! Feel the air!

She laughs. Hate on Max all you want, but that’s good advice. Super power often leaves a tingling presence in the air. Some of the petty villains haven’t honed their power much so you can’t feel them, but the really bad villains? You can feel their power a mile away. It’s satisfying as hell when they get depowered.

A shudder runs through me. Depowering is the process of ripping out the power veins in a Super—the silvery veins that pump power from our chest into our body. The details of the process are confidential, but everyone knows it’s agonizing. Depowering leaves the villain covered in spidery scars from fingers to toes, a grotesque shadow of their former selves.

Retriever hooks do the same thing with the power in the air, I say. I practiced hooking Hero Ernesto and his power immediately shut off. I didn’t even know his power was in the air until I couldn’t feel it anymore.

We reach an open area of the building where an albino alligator stares at us from his glass enclosure. A sign near the glass directs patrons to try out the new Glass Glove, which allows you to press your hand into the glass and feel the alligator. Cartoon images on the sign depict a child pressing their hand to the glass and having it bend and mold around his fingers, forming a pliable glove inside the wall.

I bet that alligator loves being fondled by his own cage, Crimson mutters.

It’s a Felix invention. I point to the King City crown logo at the bottom of the sign. Glass Glove was donated to the Lone Star Zoo by Felix of Felix Industries & Research.

That guy invents the weirdest things, Crimson says.

In just a few years, Felix went from being one of Central’s unknown research scientists to a human icon, practically worshipped by lovers of technology. He’s gifted the human race with medical devices, batteries that never die, and holograph projections that follow you around, complimenting you all day.

Someone clears their throat behind us. Crimson and I turn away from the alligator. Two girls stare at us, their hair in matching red ponytails tied with a blue ribbon bow that matches their blue dresses. They’re each holding a massive snow cone, one pink and one blue. If I had to guess, I’d say they were about eight years old.

The girl with the pink snow cone takes a cell phone from her dress pocket. Um, Miss Hero Crimson, ma’am?

Crimson bends to their eye level, resting her hands on her thighs. That’s my name. What can I do for you girls? She flashes a heroic smile and some of their trepidation melts away.

The girl holds up her phone and two identical sets of syrup-stained lips gaze in awe at us. Could we maybe take a picture with you, please? You’re our favorite Hero.

Are you a Hero, too? the other girl asks, studying me with furrowed brows. Wait, are you President Knight’s daughter?

I don’t know how to be light and charming like my best friend, so I just smile and nod. Yes, but I’m not a Hero.

But you will be? she asks.

I nod and she bursts into a wide, crooked-toothed grin. Can we get a picture with you, too?

Of course you can, Crimson says, taking the phone and pointing it toward me. I squat down, wrap my arms around the girl’s shoulders and pose for the camera.

Feels good to be a Hero, eh? Crimson whispers in my ear after she snaps a photo and hands me the phone, swapping places with me. I take their photo and give the phone back to the girls, who run to their parents to show off their souvenir.

We need to keep going, Crimson says, tapping her Codex.

I think that’s the first time I’ve seen twins in real life, I say, as we wander throughout the rest of the building. Twins are exceptionally rare in the Super community, and it’s for the best. Although human twins aren’t anything to fear, it is guaranteed that one sibling from every set of Super twins will turn villain. The last twins born to my species was over a hundred years ago and the only thing they taught us in school was that both of them are dead.

There are a ton of human twins, Crimson says, seemingly unaffected by the same topic that makes my stomach churn. "Just one more reason I’ll never have kids. The odds are really slim, but, ugh. Can you imagine?" Her perfectly arched eyebrows rise and she shudders.

I nod. Having twins in Central would be the saddest thing ever.

I know, Crimson says. I mean, even though one of them will turn villain, I’d hate to kill my own kid.

I don’t think you have to personally do it, I say, feeling the tightness in my stomach again. Pretty sure Central takes care of it.

She rolls her eyes. You know what I mean.

We both stop in our tracks. And it isn’t because we’ve finally stumbled upon the aquarium with the Largetooth Sawfish, an otherworldly fish with what looks like a terrifying hedge trimmer as a snout. It’s the atmosphere. That unmistakable feeling of power sizzling, radiating outward in the air conditioned air all around us. I never realized how strongly I could feel a Super’s power until I was surrounded by humans who don’t have it.

Crimson motions for me to follow her, taking cover behind a model shark. As we watch, a black man in a tailored suit approaches the fish’s tank, talking to a man wearing tan zookeeper’s scrubs—Oliver Toca. The power flows out of him in all directions.

It is imperative that I bring this fish to the aquatic center in Austin, Oliver says, glaring at his companion.

Sir, there is nothing about a relocation on the agenda, the man says. The fish goes nowhere without official documentation and regulation transport.

You’re making this very difficult, Oliver says in a huff. A muscle in his jaw twitches.

The other man shakes his head and reaches into his breast pocket, retrieving a cell phone. Oliver grabs the phone right from the man’s hand, crushing it into tiny pieces beneath his grip.

The man’s eyes widen in horror. Crimson looks back at me. Sorry this is such a boring mission, she whispers, then steps out into the open. That wasn’t very nice at all, Oliver Toca. You’ll be buying this man a new phone as soon as you’re depowered.

Oliver spins around to face her, his teeth gritted and gleaming in the spotlight. Crimson was right—his eyes are gorgeous, but his grimace and penchant for crime really ruin his handsome features. He swings a fist at her and she grabs it, yanks him forward, and slams her head directly into his nose. The few humans in the area quickly shuffle backward and out of the way.

I am Hero Crimson Barlow, she says with a practiced authority. And you know exactly where you’re going.

Oliver’s nose is flattened into his face and he winces while the power in his body works to heal all the shattered cartilage. Crimson grabs his wrist and twists, breaking the bones as easily as snapping a pencil. She takes a pair of Retriever hooks from the side pocket of her Hero suit.

These hooks are a Hero’s best friend. Made of magnetic material that temporarily paralyzes a villain on contact, they work like handcuffs. When a villain doesn’t cooperate, the hooks snap apart in the center, becoming two horseshoe-shaped throwing devices with very sharp points on the ends.

Difficult villains get the hooks shoved into their skin.

She dangles the hooks from her index finger. Want to do the honors, trainee?

I snap them up, eager to try my hooking skills on a real, live villain. I slap one around his broken wrist and then grab his other wrist, yanking it behind his body. He curses under his breath but doesn’t put up a fight. I close the other hook in on itself and step backward. Crimson scans him with her Codex and sends the word to Central. Soon, a Retriever will arrive and take the incapacitated villain back to Central where he’ll be depowered.

The man in the suit puts a hand over his heart. Thank you so much, ladies. I knew something was wrong when he demanded to move the fish so quickly.

I pretend to be humble. That’s what we’re here for.

Another villain off the streets, Crimson says, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

This feels better than I thought it would, I say, grabbing the center chain of the hooks and shoving Oliver Toca toward the back exit of the building.

Crimson throws an arm over my shoulder, the scent of her cherry lip-gloss briefly overriding the stench of fish tanks. So, Maci Knight . . . think you have what it takes to pass your Hero exam?

I know she’s not talking about the hours of training I’ve endured over the last decade and this last week of performing skill tests for the examiners to prove I’m ready. Crimson’s question goes deeper than that. She’s talking about the core of being a Hero. Placing my life on the line to save people I don’t even know. Throwing away the idea of a normal life, all to uphold an oath of protecting those who can’t protect themselves.

The Hero Brigade is the most elite group on the planet. I meet her gaze and the corner of my mouth twists into a grin. Hell yes.

CHAPTER 2

Back in Central, I can hardly contain my excitement from going on an official mission with Crimson. My reflection beams back at me in the shiny glass wall to my right. Central is an underground city below King City, built into the Grand Canyon several centuries ago. Although most of the shops and residential areas are deep in the earth and void of any windows, the communal areas have floor-to-ceiling walls made of glass that offer breathtaking views of the deep canyon basins below.

I remember the day before my eighteenth birthday, Crimson says, throwing a quick wave to a woman who walks past us in the other direction. I was so psyched to get out there and take down villains, but one thing you don’t think about is the humans. Especially the King City tourists. She makes a gagging sound. The worst.

Above us, in the heart of the Arizona desert, lies the sprawling human metropolitan of King City. The Super people look a lot like humans; in fact, we evolved from them. Centuries ago, a group of humans broke off from civilization and began living in caves in order to escape the Alaskan cold. The caves were laden with Dysneodsium, the element compound that scientists credit with giving us our powers. But where the humans have fragile bodies and short life spans, the Supers have an extra set of veins that course through our body. Power. We live a few hundred years and we heal instantly. I lift an eyebrow. What do you mean?

So many of the humans are just obsessed with us, especially once you’re a Hero. Sometimes it’s hard to deal with your mission when you’re constantly telling tourists to get the hell out of your way. Crimson slows when we reach an intersection of tunnels that leads to her house. If Central was above ground, these tunnels would be roads. They span out in all directions like an underground spider web weaving around the entire world.

She rolls her eyes. I didn’t join the Brigade to be a celebrity, you know?

I nod. I can see how that would be annoying.

She checks the Codex on her wrist and then shoots me a smile. I’d tell you good luck for tomorrow, but you don’t really need it. She bends forward and gives me a quick hug. See you when you’re a Hero.

Thanks, I say, smiling like an idiot as she turns to go.

I need my Hero status so badly I can taste it.

At the stroke of midnight, I will officially turn eighteen years old. With twelve years of training under my belt, I’ve been cleared to take the Hero exam.

As the president’s daughter, I don’t have to do anything as a career. Most Supers start families and work jobs in King City and have lives that are pretty much like the humans. Although all of the Super presidents have been Heroes, none of the former president’s daughters chose the same profession. It would be easy, expected even, for me to just start a charity for humans and look pretty as I attend humanitarian events as a cherished member of the Super race.

There’s nothing wrong with that exactly . . . it’s just not me. I am determined to be a Hero. In just a few short hours, I will finally fulfill the destiny I have worked so hard to attain.

But for now, I have an appointment with Central’s suit designer. Pepper’s studio is nestled in a brightly lit corridor off the south side of the commons area between the elementary school and the Super daycare center. The presidential suite, aka my home, isn’t too far from the studio so I take the trip on foot, entering a polished stone corridor that leads deeper into the canyon. Pepper’s studio is so flashy you can see it from five minutes away. Two sterling torches with purple flames light either side of the massive steel entrance. Above the double doors is the word PEPPER in five-foot-tall neon letters.

The doors swing open soundlessly and Pepper swooshes into view, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. She’s a tall black woman, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. Her curly purple hair is piled on top of her head, secured with silver chopsticks. She wears a tailored pantsuit that is a shiny black at the bottom that slowly morphs into a deep royal purple at the top of her shoulders. Her tiny white Chihuahua, Chewy, dances at her feet.

Maci, my dear, she says. Right on time!

She steps to the side and motions for me to enter. As she moves, the color of her suit shifts in the light, seemingly bobbing up and down like oil on water.

Hey, Pepper, I say, following into her studio, a dome shaped room with white walls and a black granite floor. A circle of high beam spotlights are aimed straight at a raised platform in the center of the room and a glass wall doubles as a computer screen that Pepper uses to design suits.

Several cutting tables are to the right, piled high with scraps of fabric and behind them, rolling carts that overflow with bolts of fabric in multiple colors and textures.

Would you like a latte? she asks over her shoulder as we walk to the center of the room.

No, thanks.

Suit yourself, but I need a quick caffeine refill, or else my body will shut down. She winks like it’s a joke, but if I had to guess, I’d say fifty percent of her blood is actually caffeine. Be right back! she singsongs as she slips into a side hallway. Chewy and his tiny dog legs follow her.

Pepper is a suit designing genius. She designs work uniforms, Retriever suits, and all the boring training suits, like the one I’m currently wearing. But her true talent shines in the Hero suits. My dad’s suit is the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen, charcoal gray with a royal purple chest plate, the King City’s emblem of a geometric crown emblazoned on top in silver. As the Super president, my dad is the only one who gets to wear that logo.

Prepare to be amazed! Pepper says as she floats back into the room, gripping a white coffee