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Authors: Christine Hughes

Torn (18 page)

BOOK: Torn
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“Samantha, you know what I mean. I saw your eyes. I saw you tense up. I know you’ve seen this place before. It’s why I brought you here.”

Okay. Now I was getting the creeps. How did he know? I didn’t even know. How would he know the exact location of my vision, if that’s really what it was? I wasn’t even sure this was the same place.

No. I knew. I knew the moment I stepped out of the brush onto this rocky clearing. I just wasn’t willing to admit it. “How did you know?”

“I can read your fears. It’s
my
gift. I can read the fears of others as well. Lucas’ gift is one of protection. Knowing the exact moment when he will be needed. Ethan can communicate through telepathy. He can also block others from intruding in on thoughts. Scott’s gift is his ability to move about undetected. Your father’s gift was the ability to control the movement of objects with his mind.”

“Sounds like we could put together an amazing side show act,” I muttered sarcastically.

His patience apparently had no limits. “This isn’t a joke. I wish it were. I wish you could remain ignorant about all of this but we can’t let that happen. You need to be informed if you’re to make a decision. You see, Samantha, we know you have the gifts your father had. We know you can communicate seamlessly, much like Ethan. Sure, we all can speak in that manner but not as easily and not without oceans of training. In addition, you can heal. There hasn’t been a healer, other than your father and Ethan, in a hundred years. And we now know, though you may not know this, you can move about undetected. We aren’t sure if it’s a conscious thing, an emotional thing, or an accident. But we know you can do it. Now we just have to figure out a way for you to do it on purpose.”

“What do you mean? How would someone not know I’m there? How would I not be aware of it?”

“This morning, when I was making breakfast, I could sense your presence. Then I couldn’t. Then you were right there in front of me. Ethan and Lucas have mentioned instances as well.”

I was totally confused. “What instances? They never told me.”

“They didn’t tell you because they didn’t want to freak you out. They weren’t sure at first but after the incident in the kitchen, they knew. You see, when all that was happening, you weren’t there. Sure, you were there physically so they could see you but your presence was gone. If they hadn’t been staring at you, they’d have had no idea you were in the room.”

I squatted down and rubbed my hands over my face. “I am so tired, Jesse, of people keeping things from me. Wouldn’t it be easier if everything were laid out on the table for me to digest as a whole rather than in tiny morsels of half-truths and partial information? And what does this mean? I have all these freaky super-human—pardon me—non-human gifts, as you like to call them. What does that mean for me? And why does it matter if I have a few cool, but admittedly terrifying, angel-type traits? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes. It would be a good thing for us. A good thing
if
you were Faithful completely. But as of yet, you remain conflicted. And we aren’t quite sure how all this will play out.”

A sneaky blanket of criticism covered me, but I knew Jesse wouldn’t do that. “What do you mean?” I snapped. “I told you I am not one of them.”

“You did. I want to believe you but I’ve seen too many Faithful turn; too many without your gifts, without your propensity towards dark emotions. We’ll just have to wait and see.” He squeezed my shoulder gently. “For now, however, we must get to some training exercises. We’ll finish our conversation another time. Today we’ll work on controlling your emotions with your mind. And soon you’ll begin sword training—”

“I’m sorry, sword training?”

“Yes.
Sword training.
If you have to kill an Exiled, you must first cut off their wings. And you can’t do that with an ordinary kitchen knife. Why do you think I was explaining all that?”

He must’ve seen the look of utter horror on my face because he added a wink and a chuckle. I knew I was training to defeat the Exiled but for some reason that never translated into “Hey Samantha, don’t forget to chop off the wings of the evil bad guys.” I was so not ready for this. So totally not ready.

“Hey Jesse, before we continue, may I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you sure I am ready for this?”

“I hope so, Sam.

Hope so?
Great.
What the hell did that mean? Why couldn’t anyone just give me a straight answer? Why couldn’t they all just spit it out? All I knew was that I was some gifted human training to annihilate some bad guys—scratch that—exiled demon creatures, with a sword I hadn’t learned how to use, and didn’t even possess for that matter, all the while trying to decide where my heart lay. Oh yeah, and Jesse
hoped so.

He interrupted my thoughts, asking me to move closer to the edge of the cliff. And I really didn’t want to do that either. Not so great with heights. I was beginning to think that even though this might’ve been all about me, it wasn’t in the “all-about-me” way that I wanted it to be.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just step close to the edge. Look straight out onto the horizon. Just relax and empty your head.”

“Empty my head?
Easier said than done, my friend.”

“I know. Just try. We may not get this right today but you’re so far advanced without training, concerning your
gifts, that
I thought we might take a stab at it.”

“Take a stab at what? What is it, exactly, that you want me to do?”

“Right now I just want you to step closer to the edge and clear your head of all thought. Easy enough, right?”

I looked at him like he had bananas growing out of his ears but I did as he asked. I stepped slowly to the edge until the tips of my boots were about an inch from disaster. I could feel the eroded stone beneath me and watched as a few stray pebbles tumbled recklessly down the cliff. The water was so insane, it was almost hypnotizing. I watched it pull back then throw itself onto the rocks like some child banging their head into a wall because Santa forgot to bring his favorite toy.

There was no beginning or end to the churning mess that lay fifty yards below me. The only things that seemed real were the jagged finger-like rocks reaching from the coastline, as if they were put there for a purpose. As I imagined them reaching for me, I quietly reach out, too.

“Now, Samantha,” Jesse said quietly. “I want you to look straight ahead at the horizon. Let the sun heat you through. Let the line haze. Once you’ve focused, close your eyes and imagine yourself floating there. Just imagine yourself floating among the clouds. When you’ve done that, imagine yourself pulling the water to you. Imagine the water reaching up to touch your fingertips.”

Seriously?
Floating on clouds and pulling water to me?
Okay, crazy pants.
Whatever.

I figured it couldn’t hurt too much to do as he asked, no matter how insane it sounded. It was just my imagination anyway, right? I squared my shoulders, not because I had to, but because that was how I imagined I should stand—shoulders squared, feet shoulder-width apart, arms hanging loosely at my sides.

Now, I had to toss off the random thoughts that permeated my mind. I looked to the horizon and saw far away flashes of light and dark twisting in some exotic dance. Patchy gray clouds strolled along beams of pale yellow sun. This was all so familiar, like déjà vu. If only I could just place it.

The fog was lifting. A crisp view was coming into focus. The sun warmed me through, and I felt like I could reach out and touch the golden rays. I closed my eyes and saw myself out there, walking along those sunbeams and strolling through those clouds. My body relaxed and I no longer felt attached to it. As if knowing how all along, I pushed my palms down toward the water and slowly lifted them so they were outstretched at my sides.

I closed my fist gently and brought it to my face as I slowly opened my eyes. My hand crept open and a swirl of water was floating in my palm. I stared at the sphere for a minute. As the sun fell upon my upturned face and I felt its heat, the water warmed up in my hand to the point I could barely stand it. But as soon as I thought it was too hot, it began to cool. It didn’t take long before the water formed a large ball of ice and I crushed it in my hand.

I looked down and discovered I was floating feet away from the cliff. What the—

Suddenly a burst of uncomfortably warm air whipped past me, and I heard a roar erupt from below. Everything around me vibrated with purpose. I didn’t know what was going on and lost my concentration. An almost unbearable pain assaulted me. My insides felt like they were going to melt. I screamed for Jesse but he couldn’t hear me.

God, it hurt! I howled like some tortured animal on the brink of death. The water around me began to hiss as it reached boiling temperatures. I reached out for Jesse and caught his eye. He was scared. I could see he was scared, and that he had no idea how to help me. It frightened me more to think he was there but unable to help.

I felt something solid and heavy and hot grip my legs. Like a hand. I looked down and the jagged rocks from below had reached up into the air and grabbed me. They coiled up my legs and wrapped around my body, squeezing me to death. They were trying to pull me down into the chasm below. I felt my skin singe and every nerve scream in anguish. I fought the scorching, ever-tightening grip with everything I could muster. But nothing I did eased its deadly grip.

“Samantha!” I heard Jesse’s scream over the din of boiling water and crushing rock, “Focus Samantha! You can beat this! Go into yourself and beat this!”

Tired and in pain, all I wanted to do was lie down and die. I forced myself to step outside my body and survey the situation. This was the first time I’d been able to do it at will. I could see my body being consumed by the rock formation and surrounded with steaming hot salt water from the sea below. My skin was red. My body seemed to have given collapsed in defeat. I actually looked dead.

Jesse was still on the cliff’s edge. His eyes were closed and his arms were stretched toward me as though he thought I was dead, too. I could hear him calling to me but he wasn’t screaming out loud. He must be doing that telepathy thing. If he could reach me then I could reach back. If he could still communicate with me then perhaps whatever had taken me over wasn’t invincible.

Still, the situation was dire. My body was bleeding and blistered. I could see the blue blush of bruises creeping over every exposed inch not covered by the blazing hot rocks. Something inside me told me I could still fight it—had to fight it.

“Focus, Samantha. Just focus on beating this. Beating them”
said a familiar voice behind me.

I looked over my shoulder. Dad! Seeing his face reassured me that I could do it. I stretched my arms out toward my limp body and moved my hands as if I were grabbing the rock and tearing it away. Slowly the stone began to fall away. I needed to wake myself up. I stepped back into myself and called up all the internal focus and mediation I could muster. If I couldn’t beat this thing physically, I would have to beat it mentally.

Groggy but awake, I ignored the bone deep ache in my body and used my free hand to reach out into the water that surrounded me, screaming out as new blisters blanketed the bruises. Tears mingled with steam. I told myself to think cold. I forced myself to think about my father. I thought about Lucas and Ethan and all the sacrifices that had been made for my sake. I couldn’t let all that go to waste. I couldn’t let it all be for nothing.

The air around me began to crackle. The rock continued to loosen its grip, but I had to destroy it. Reduce it to rubble. I had to destroy the evil that had taken hold of me. Darkness overwhelmed me and I screamed—in pain, in pleasure; in defeat, in triumph; in hope, in despair. And the world around me exploded with the shrieks that ripped from my throat and moved the earth like an earthquake.

Suddenly, calm drenched me. Everything was quiet and still. It should’ve felt weird but somehow I knew this was how it was supposed to be. Time seemed to have stopped, as if the world was on pause. The water was gone. My stone prison had disappeared.

Jesse was standing next to me. He was smiling, but his eyes were fearful and cautiously amazed. And then I realized he wasn’t standing at all. He was floating. I was floating, high above the water.

In my hand was
a heaviness
, a weight I couldn’t shake. My gaze slowly fell down my blistered and bloody arm to my shaking hand. My now glassy vision fixated on what I found. Clenched in my hand was a sword made of ice and rock; formed from the angry water and jagged earth far below.

I felt loopy. My mind refused to focus, and I could barely form coherent words.

“What the...What the hell is this?” My voice sounded charred and heavy.

Jesse put his hand slowly to his mouth and stared in awe.
“My God...A sword.
Your sword.
I didn’t think you would be ready for it. I didn’t think it would come to you so quickly. But that means they’re closer than ever and more prepared than we anticipated. It also means you’re more capable than we thought.”

God, I was tired. “Is that...is that a good thing?”

“Good?
About you being capable, yes.
About
them
being more prepared, no.”

BOOK: Torn
5.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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