Chapter 14 #2
“I am not inciting you to do that.”
“You’re right. I’ll do it of my own volition.”
I snicker. “I don’t think Karra will like that very much.”
Speaking of Karra, when Gray’s comm beeps a second later, I have no doubt she’s the one messaging him. He leans forward to check the screen, then sends a quick response.
“Sorry,” he says.
“How about…” I examine the table. “I’ll order you to pick up that water glass.”
“That’s boring.”
“And spill it over your head.”
“Now I’m listening.”
I grin. It’s so easy to be with him. He’s fun.
“Okay.” I rest my hands in my lap and take a long, steadying breath. “Let me try to clear my head and harness the gold. It might take a minute.”
Minds are such annoying, complicated things, because they’re not just a jumble of thoughts.
They’re echoes of the past and running fears about the future.
The mind is never, ever silent. Even when you’re meditating, the brain is working, synapses firing back and forth while you sit there with your eyes closed under the illusion that you’ve completely stilled your mind.
I inhale slowly, trying to do what Hawkins always instructs in the Temple.
Clear it all out. Everything but the gold dust. It doesn’t come naturally to me.
I’m used to pushing my way into the black void, opening a path while the negative frequency of the target mind tries to repel me.
And if I’m tapping into the positive frequency, it’s an even smoother ride.
I’m welcomed right in and invited to link.
With this new frequency, there’s no easy path. It’s entirely about concentration and harnessing energy I never even knew existed.
“Take your time,” Gray murmurs.
Like last time, I can’t retain my grip on those gold flecks. I need a new approach. I shift the visualization, picturing a ball.
“A glue ball,” I mumble.
“Do I even want to ask?”
Our eyes lock, and I see the amusement dancing in his.
“Shush. You’re distracting me.”
I imagine a ball in my hands, covered in a sticky substance. I draw the gold dust to it and experience a rush of triumph when it sticks.
Yes.
Slowly, I start collecting more and more of those gossamer threads, wrapping them around the ball. It’s getting bigger. So much bigger. Now I just need to figure out how to draw the energy from my gold ball and allow it to course through my body.
I take another breath and open myself up to the sensation, but the resulting shudder is so forceful that my grip snaps, the ball exploding and the dust dispersing in all directions.
“Damn it!”
I try to regain my bearings. The room is spinning.
“It’s fine,” Gray encourages. “Try it again.”
I rest my palms on my thighs and shut my eyes, even though I don’t need to for visualization. Yet again, I can’t seem to harness the gold. Either I clutch it too tightly and stifle the energy, or I’m unable to gather it in the first place and it skims past my fingertips.
“Breathe,” I hear him say.
“What?”
“You’re not breathing. I can see you holding your breath.”
“How do you know breathing even helps?”
“Breathing always helps. You can’t truly focus if your lungs aren’t getting what they need.”
He has a point. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on my breathing until the slow, meditative breaths start to come naturally.
Flecks of gold float behind my eyelids, and this time, I know I’m harnessing.
My palms grow hot. Tingling. My arms follow suit, and although I don’t have silver veins like Hawkins, I feel the energy shuddering through them.
I’m mindful of my hands, forcing myself not to clench them.
I need to give the gold room to spread. And it is. It’s spreading. I feel it.
I open my eyes to find Gray watching me.
Pick up the glass.
I broadcast the command into his mind, but he doesn’t move.
Pick up the glass.
Pick up the glass.
Come on, you asshole.
Pick up the glass.
Every muscle in my body begins to strain, and then, without warning, the energy wavers and dims. When I look down, I realize my hands have curled into tight fists.
“Shit. Why do I keep doing that?” I mumble.
“Doing what?”
“Clenching my fists. Hawkins said I should relax, but the tensing just happens naturally.”
“Because you’ve never trained in this before.” He shakes his head in disapproval. “Julian really should have disclosed. We could’ve helped you figure this out a long time ago.”
No, I don’t blame Uncle Jim for not saying anything. He was protecting me, and I’m glad for it.
Gray’s comm dings again.
“Your girlfriend’s pissed,” I say, amused.
He checks the screen, then grins. “No. She just wants to fuck.”
I stand corrected.
“You can tell her we’re done,” I say, sliding off the couch. “It’s late, and I think I’m too tired to concentrate properly.”
I’m almost at the door when Gray says, “So he’s your man, huh?”
I glance over. “Who?”
“The captain. You told Henley you had a man.”
He never calls him Cross, though I suppose he wouldn’t. On the Command base, we all referred to him as captain or sir.
I’m not sure how to answer—how he wants me to answer—so I say nothing.
The mention of Cross elicits a rush of longing, however.
I would give anything to see him right now.
To make sure he’s actually okay and wasn’t feeding me a load of bullshit about what his brothers did to him.
What they might still be doing to him. But there’s nothing I can do when I’m in the mountains and he’s in the city and—
A thought suddenly occurs to me.
“You flew Adrienne into the city this week.”
Gray blinks at the change of subject. “She was on Authority business. She needed an escort.”
I draw a slow, hesitant breath. “What if I need an escort?”
“Exactly what are you asking me for, cowgirl?”
The breath comes out in a rush. “Will you take me to see Cross?”