The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1) by Brian Terenna (motivational books for women TXT) 📕

I wipe my sweaty hands on my shorts and open my mouth to talk but swallow instead. I don’t even know why I’m nervous since Barbra wants to adopt me, but I am. “Barbra…”

She turns to look at me, putting down her paintbrush.

“I want to be your daughter.”

A smile stretches across her face. She wipes her paint colored hands on her apron and throws her arms around me.

I let myself melt in her embrace, no longer holding back. I finally have a mom again.

☼☼☼

I lurch awake, my heart pounding, and my eyes darting around the room. I try to move my arms, but they’re trapped. Panic seizes me until I realize it’s just my sheets wrapped around me.

It was just another demon-filled nightmare from one of my hells. I force my breathing to slow and wipe my cold sweaty hands on my pajamas. I relax and allow myself a smile. I’m going to be Barbra’s daughter.

Sunny stands in the corner, still in sleep mode, to conserve power. He always looks so small when his eyes are dim.

I grab my robe and drape it over my shoulders, excited for the first breakfast of my new life. Maybe Barbra made something extra special. I hope it’s a fruit tray. Papaya would be nice and maybe…honeydew. I haven’t had that in a while.

I walk toward the door, looking forward to my morning hug. I don’t even think I’ll mind the news today. Wait…why don’t I hear it? I stop and listen.

An uncommon silence hangs in the air.

An eerie feeling creeps into my stomach, and I’m suddenly reluctant to leave the room. “Sunny?”

His green eyes illuminate. “Good morning, Fae.”

“It’s really quiet this morning.”

He walks closer to the door. “That’s unusual for this time.”

I don’t know what I expect. Barbra should be fine on her new medication. Could it be something else?

I glance at my steel bottle since I usually drink water first thing, but I’m hesitant to make noise.

Barbra probably just had to go out. I’m sure everything is fine. Still, I want to be cautious. I motion to Sunny.

He walks to his bag and grabs his sonic nauseator.

I want to tell him we don’t need it, that it’s silly to think there’s a problem. But it’s better to be prepared. I undo the lock and carefully pull open the door. The kitchen is empty. No steam from the tea or mouthwatering scents from breakfast. No commercials or dramatic news stories.

No Barbra.

Stop being silly, I chide myself. I know that I’ll look out the window, and her red minivan will be missing from the driveway. She’ll be off getting me a present or something sweet.

I take a peek.

The minivan sits there as if taunting me.

My heart drops. Still asleep? Maybe the medication has that side effect. I pull at my robe, rubbing it between my fingers, desperate to calm my nerves. I still don’t understand why I’m so anxious. It’s not as if I haven’t been uneasy a million times before, but there’s something different.

I walk past the kitchen into the living room, placing my feet quietly and looking side to side as if something might attack me. At least when I find her and everything is okay, I’ll feel better. Then I can finally tell her how important she is to me. I’m being silly, right?

Everything is quiet and seems in place in the living room. Her expertly done flower-filled landscapes and portraits of famous revolutionaries still line the walls. The drop cloth is perfectly aligned under her easel. And her huge painting of Navin Briggs is—

I freeze and gape at the painting. Navin’s eyes are black and soulless. His usual granite-hard face that radiated justice now oozes malice. Although she didn’t change his size, he seems bigger than before somehow. A trick of the painted shadows, perhaps.

Twisted demon creatures with horns and glowing eyes fly around him, clutching bloody arms and legs in their claws. His raven, now with evil red eyes, clenches a child’s severed head in a clawed foot. The child’s open eyes seem to stare right at me.

I shiver, my unease overwhelming me. What the hell? I want to run, to be anywhere but here, but if Barbra’s medication failed, she needs me.

I reach her door, and my stomach tightens further. I gently knock to avoid starling her and wait for a few breaths.

Nothing.

Sunny meets my eyes but stays quiet.

I knock again, louder this time, my anxiety overpowering my usual caution. My heart is pounding now, harder than when my third foster demoness threatened to tie me up if I bothered her again. I glance at Sunny.

He nods to reassure me.

I slowly turn the doorknob and push open the door.

She’s not in bed. Everything looks in place.

I relax. It was nothing. She probably went for a walk or something…

But she’s never missed breakfast and that painting is nuts. My skin crawls as I think of the last time I had to check her room. The issue was behind the bed. Could there be something there now?

A series of terrible possibilities flood my mind. I banish them. Stop it. She’s fine.

I don’t want to look, and I certainly don’t want to be here. Despite this, I step inside the room, shuffle my feet past the bed, and glance behind it.

An arctic chill freezes me in place. My stomach lurches, and my eyes go wide.

  CHAPTER 3

∙ BEWARE THE FIRE ∙

☼☼☼

Fae’s Laws of Survival:

   Lie if necessary.

   Never trust anyone but Sunny.

   Run when facing a superior foe.

   Sometimes you have to break rules.

   Only help people if there’s no risk.

☼☼☼

I’m sitting on the floor in my bedroom. My heart pounds,