Chapter 57 #3
“Okay,” I said, pulling them back, trying to imagine my mind pushing power out through my hands.
The tingle remained, but the energy felt the same.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and willed the power to come forth, which was like wishing for cake to magically appear when the fridge was empty.
No matter how hungry you were, it was still empty.
I dropped my hands down. Wolf had moved over to the side, just inside the tree line. He lay on the ground, his head rested between his front legs, looking bored.
She dropped her hands down, cocked her head to the side, considering. After a long moment she said, “You have to imagine you have an energy that can expand and push, like you do physically when you move things, because you do . . . try again,” she insisted, raising her hands again.
I held my palms up toward her, imagined I was pushing against her. I spoke the word, “Push.” Nothing. Nada. Not even a tingle left my hands this time. “Maybe I can’t do it,” I said, feeling both frustrated, deflated and tired.
“You can, Amy, try again. Your energies are directed through your palms, but it is your mind that controls them. Push all other thoughts out of your conscious mind and focus. What do you want to do? Imagine it, feel it into existence.”
“Is this another Rhonda Byrnes moment?”
Dahlia’s jaw muscles twitched. “There’s merit to her words.”
“Tell that to the guy holding the sign on the corner, dressed in a chicken suit. I’m pretty sure he didn’t imagine growing up dreaming of becoming the chicken man.”
She sighed deeply. “Just do it.”
I tried again. I raised my hands, squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on pushing her. I imagined a wall between us, pushing against her body. My arms trembled and ached, just holding them there was an effort, sweat pebbled on my forehead. I opened my eyes.
Not only hadn’t she budged, but she looked both perplexed and annoyed.
Then she sighed, like I’d disappointed her.
She dropped her hands and plonked down on the trunk.
She bent down and pulled two water bottles from the backpack and chucked me one.
I caught it, opened the bottle, and took a big drink. I shook out my aching arms.
She kicked at the ground with her boot. “You think I don’t know Karson, but I do. I’ve seen what he’s done, walked into rooms where people lay strewn in their own blood, slaughtered by him.”
Her words pierced like a spear through my heart. But I didn’t believe her, not for one second. He’d murdered those men, but that was to save me. He wouldn’t slaughter a room full of people, there’s no way she would stay at his house if he had.
“You lie,” I breathed.
“Lie. What reason would I have to lie to you?” She stood up, placing her bottle back in the backpack. “Ask him and see if he denies it, or better still, when he lays his hands on you tonight, think about all the people he’s killed with those same hands.”
Each word sliced through my heart like a sharp blade. “Shut up,” I snapped. I placed the water bottle on the top of the trunk and stood.
Her lips curled into cruel lines. “Can you hear their screams as he caresses your body? You could if you wanted to, you know.”
I felt anger leak through my veins, burning like poison. “Shut up, Dahlia,” I warned.
“Or you’ll . . . what, Amy?” She stepped into my space. “What are you going to do about it?”
My muscles tensed. I felt my fingers curl into balls and the heat inside began to burn in the back of my head. I wouldn’t start it but if she came at me I’d fight back.
“He’s a cold-blooded killer and you let him touch you.
” Dahlia twisted her face in bitter disgust. She took a step back and pushed the palms of her hands out.
Air bucketed against my face as if it were a stormy day, but there was no breeze.
Leaves on the ground danced and flapped around my feet.
Incredulously she’d conjured up a wind. I would have been impressed again if I wasn’t so annoyed.
I threw my palms skywards. “What, are you going to try and knock me out with a bit of breeze?”
“Do you know how many people he’s sunk his teeth into, sucked blood through the same lips you kissed?”
I couldn’t stand it, the heat inside exploded. “I said, shut up.” I didn’t think, whatever came next was pure instinct, and I shoved her on the chest.
One moment, Dahlia was standing chock full of bravado, and the next, she wasn’t.
She flew backward, arms pinwheeling, a look of bewilderment on her face.
She slammed, with a sharp snap, into a tree trunk.
Her mouth shot open, her eyes grew wider than plates.
She let out a grunt and dropped to the ground, landing on her side, arms splayed, legs out in a running motion.
Limp. Still. Agonisingly still.
Oh God. I was immobilized by shock, bewildered.
My face paled. My head thumped. I couldn’t breathe.
Panic flooded through me. What had I done?
Time seemed to tick by painfully slowly.
Sounds were drowned out by the blood rushing through my head.
I blinked, just once. A crow squawked, high pitched and ringing. The paralysis broke. I rushed to her.
“Dahlia! Are you okay?” Nothing but silence came back. She didn’t move. Petrified of what I might find, I dropped to my knees, the ground reverberating up my legs.
Her eyes were closed, and her breaths were agonizingly shallow. She was alive but she could have broken bones, spinal injuries, internal bleeding.
“Dahlia!”
She groaned, her eyes drifted open, staring at me, but almost as if through me.
“Are you okay?” The silence that followed was long and insufferable. She wasn’t okay, how could she hit a tree that hard and be okay? I rasped, “Dahlia. Answer me. Are you okay?”
“I think so,” she breathed.
She pulled her right arm in and used it to push up off the ground. She flinched, her face was as white as plaster. She whined and dropped back down.
“Lay still,” I said, fighting the panic. “You might have really hurt yourself. I’ll go and get Karson.” I started to rise, already calculating if he could hear me, or how close I’d need to run before he could if I yelled out.
“Fuck off,” she said, her voice suddenly strong. “He’s not fucking touching me.”
“You might have spinal injuries. You need to keep still.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, I’m okay, just winded and bruised.” She grimaced. “And maybe a few broken bones.” She chuckled, but the laugh twisted into a grunt.
Using her hands, she pushed again and climbed, with agonizing slowness, to her knees. She paused there for a long stretch, bowed forward, sucking in air.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know how—” I stood up and shook my head. It thundered against my skull.
She held a hand up to cut me off. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ve been through worse. Help me up.”
I reached down, grabbed her arm and helped her rise slowly to her feet. She flinched and grunted and finally stood, albeit bending at a half right side angle.
“At least we know how to access your powers, all I have to do is piss you off.” She attempted a smile.
It dawned on me what she’d done. She’d lied to bait me into responding with anger. I felt the anger flare. “Seriously?” I hissed, “you could have been hurt. You idiot.”
She shrugged. “Whatever works.”
I strode off before I pushed her again. Snatching the backpack off the ground. Adrenaline seemed to leak from my body, the energy dispersed and suddenly I felt drained. I tossed the water, the knives, and the arrow in the backpack. Removed the target and collected the last of the knives.
“Serves yourself right,” I said, glancing at her as she tried to straighten and flinched. Guilt rose up, the anger had abated, but not entirely. Each shuffled step she took, her face twisted. I winced as if the pain were my own. It would be a long, slow walk home.
“Do you want me to go and get help? It doesn’t have to be Karson.” I threw the backpack over my shoulder.
“Nope, it will be okay once I get moving. I should loosen. I will get it fixed later. You’re going to have to learn to control your anger, hold the pressure.
You’re not practicing on me again today though, I may be a witch, but my body breaks.
I’ll be back tomorrow—ask Ethan to pad the walls of his gym. ”
I didn’t think she’d be back tomorrow, unless she knew a good healer and an even better chiropractor, and had access to some strong drugs. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s my fault, I didn’t expect you to be so strong.”
“I don’t understand why I didn’t know before now I had powers,” I said, perplexed. “It’s not like I haven’t had temper flares in the past.”
“The ring you wore was spelled so your powers didn’t work.” She glanced sideways, gauging my response.
“My mother knew?” I stopped in my tracks. She kept walking. I stared at her with increasing perplexity.
It will always keep you safe. It will always protect you.
Chills whipped over my body. If she knew, did my father know?
Did he see the evil inside and wasn’t able to bear it any longer?
The broken pieces, all those years of growing up and feeling different but never quite able to understand why.
If someone had explained all those years of angst, of feeling like I wasn’t right, it could have made some resemblance of sense.
She nodded. “Yes, and before you ask, I don’t know who your real parents are. They kept it a secret, even if you look you won’t find out. You were adopted out to keep you safe. Your adoptive mother and father knew something, but how much? I don’t know.”