31. No Shit I’m Not Focusing
Chapter 31
No Shit I’m Not Focusing
T here is no time to mourn, to question, or to make sense of anything that’s happened in the last few minutes. Not for me.
“Noah!” I race to his side, falling to my knees next to him. He hasn’t woken up. His breathing remains labored as he lies on the cold concrete.
Finally Grandma shakes her head and moves, placing a trembling hand on my shoulder. “We need to leave. Immediately.”
“You expect the three of us to carry a full-grown man out of here? A man well over six feet?” Laura scoffs. “That’s not happening, and definitely not quickly.”
I hate to agree with Laura, but Noah’s lankiness may work against us in this instance.
“Hazel. Lift him with your element.” The demand is non-negotiable. “We don’t have time to find out if Draven has more of his ‘family’ here.”
Right. No problem.
“Does she even know how to do that?” Laura says, a bite in her tone that speaks only of fear. Fear of what’s coming. Fear of what’s happening. Fear of everything.
I shake my head, but I have no choice. I have to figure it out and get us out of here in case Draven has a backup plan. He seems the type.
“Center yourself by focusing on your breathing, block out everything else but what you need to do. You can hold my hand.” Grandma holds out her hand. I take it. “Draw from my power, from our bond, to help you.”
Thanks, Mom, for not letting me train growing up. I’d actually know what the hell I’m doing right now.
Fuck, okay, don’t think about Mom. That’s a situation I do not need to unpack while I’m trying to levitate an entire human. My human.
Laura bumps into me. “I don’t think you’re focusing.”
“No shit I’m not focusing.”
“Girls.” Grandma’s voice booms in the empty warehouse.
I close my eyes against all distractions—against the wind, the leaky pipe that is dripping once more, my sister’s judgmental gaze burning a hole in my side. Deep breath in, longer exhale. I lengthen the exhale with each breath until my heartbeat slows and all I can feel is Noah. Noah’s staggered breaths, Noah’s heartbeat.
“Well, I guess we may just get out of here. And speaking of, can we finally get out of here ?” Laura’s voice forces me to open my eyes.
Noah is hovering before me, still unconscious, at approximately waist level. Waist level is workable.
A window breaks. Our heads snap in the direction of the sound.
“Move,” Grandma says.
We hasten through the warehouse, Noah gliding in front of us as we make for the car. I don’t feel anything following us, but that doesn’t mean I have any intention of slowing down. We maneuver Noah into the car, Grandma fires the engine, and we speed off in a trail of smoke.
“How are we going to wake him up? Can we? Draven said we could, but...”
Grandma doesn’t meet my eyes in the mirror. I’m in the back seat with Noah resting on my lap. “He’ll be fine.”
“Are you going to call that weirdo healer lady with all the beads and feathers you got when Hazel was injured? Because she was a lot, Grandma,” Laura snorts from the passenger seat.
Grandma sniffles, and I catch her wiping a tear from her cheek. “Her name is Clementine and she is the best healer on this side of the Mississippi. You will respect her as your elder.”
Noah’s brown curls brush my arm with a bump in the road, turning his face closer to me. His eyebrows seem less bushy than usual. “She was gone before I woke up. Will we be calling her?”
Grandma nods.
We’ll be home soon and then we’ll wake up Noah. And then...Well, shit, I have no idea. I have no goddamn idea.
“Is he gone?” It’s Laura who breaks the silence, voice shaking just a touch. There’s no question who she’s referring to. “Is she gone?”
My fingers tangle in Noah’s curls. I hope to God Grandma has some sort of answer because I’ve got nothing. It’s as if I’m a hollowed husk of a person.
The car rumbles on as we leave the city behind us. The moonlight filters through trees instead of buildings as we get closer to the safety of home.
“We’ll be fine,” is all Grandma says.