“I can’t.” I cried out, landing on my knees in the sand, digging and scraping at my hand to force it open. “What is this stone?”
“It’s just a rock.” He knelt beside me. “Just a normal rock from the ground.”
“Why is it so hot?” I practically screamed.
“Your blue light, sweet girl. You’re on defensive—”
“Don’t,” I yelled as he reached for my hand. “You’ll make it worse.”
“Just let me—Ah!” He folded in on himself, his face going bright red. “Ara, stop!”
“Just get away from me,” I said, pretty sure I’d just zapped him without meaning to.
“I—” He tried to stand, tried to walk away, then sunk to his knees. “Ara, stop!”
I glanced up quickly to see him curled into a ball a few feet away. But I hadn’t done anything to him. He’d probably just stepped on a jellyfish or something, or maybe he felt the heat, too, as if my electric light had surfaced without colour and hit him hard. But I didn’t care. I needed to concentrate, needed to focus to get this stone out of my hand.
I phased Jason, the waves, the wind, the world, out, and imagined that the stone in my hand was just an ice cube, that the heat would melt it. “Focus, Ara. Focus,” I mumbled and, all around me, a shimmer of blue light parted the shadows, taking the warmth around the stone and sending it through my entire body, leaving my palm cool and tingly and suddenly free.
I unfolded my fingers, rolling my hand to tip the small droplet of water and the pile of sand grains onto the ground by my knee. The melted flesh bubbled and bled, then healed over, leaving the skin smooth and supple again.
My lungs expanded, contracting slowly as the long breath I exhaled cooled my limbs. “I melted it,” I said to Jason, my eyes filled with wonder, but his deep, almost restless groan snapped my thoughts back to the agonized screams still ringing in my ears. “Oh, my God. Jase!”
“Ara.” He rolled into a tighter ball, cradling his arm in the circle of his body. “Get help.”
“Jason. Why?” I touched his hip to roll him over, but my presence startled him; he raised his wrist to block me, revealing the twisted, awkwardly bent position of his other arm: the wrist had snapped back one way, the forearm broken clean in half, his arm held on only by a thin thread of flesh that refused to give way. My first instinct was to rush in and help, but my body took over, sending my hand to my mouth to cover the scream.
Falcon appeared beside me, quickly sizing up the situation, but as he bent down to help the injured, even he drew back in blood-chilling shock. “Vampire’s bones don’t break,” he said, grabbing my arm to move me away. “What have you done to him?”
“I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands, covering my face with them after. “I don’t know.”
“Run, Ara.” He pointed up the steep steps. “Get Arthur.”
“Why is he laying like that?” I cried instead.
“His arm’s broken.” Falcon knelt beside Jason to take a look. “He needs help. Go!”
Jason groaned, barely able to catch a breath, obviously suffering more agony than he’d ever felt. Despite every ounce of damage I’d ever seen him endure, this was, by far, the worst.
“Jase?”
“Now, Ara!” Falcon yelled.
***
I reached out and grabbed Arthur’s arm as he shut the bedroom door. “How is he?”
“He’s fine.” He placed his medical kit on the ground by his feet and let out a breath through his nose, pulling me in for a very needed hug. “He wants to see you.”
“Did he tell you how it happened?” I asked, stepping back.
“He did.” Arthur nodded, his distant eyes finding a smile a few seconds later. “Telekinesis, huh?”
“I. . .” I looked down at my hands. “I guess so.”
Arthur just shook his head, bending at the knees to pick up his bag, and walked away, shaking his head as a long whistle left his lips, carrying the sound of amazement down the hall with him. But I wasn’t amazed, or surprised. I’d nearly ripped off the entire arm of a vampire, whose bones were like iron-coated cement. How on earth did I manage to hurt him that way?
“Ara?” Jason called, a mildly impatient tone coming out through the wooden door with his voice.
I pushed it open and poked my head in, showing my teeth in an apologetic grin.
“Stop it,” he said, reaching his good hand out. “You don’t need to apologise.”
“Yeah, but. . .” I nodded at his arm in its sling, closing the door with my foot. “I also kind of do.”
He looked down at the broken appendage and just smiled. “Well, one thing I can safely say is, I have never ever felt so much pain, physical pain, in all my vampire life, Ara.”
“Oh, don’t.” I covered my ears. “I already feel bad enough.”
“Well, I’m sure some people around here would praise you for it.” He offered a timid smirk, to which I replied with a pout. “Take a seat,” he said and patted the bed. “I want to show you something.”
I sat down, eyeing the brown leather-bound journal tucked in beside his leg.
“When I first started developing my powers, the telekinesis was the worst—the hardest to control or accept.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He held the book up. “I started taking notes, assessing myself, testing my limits. This—” He passed it to me, and as I took hold of it, could actually feel the ancient energy within its pages—could almost see the past. “I’m sure this will help you on your journey, too, Ara. I want you to have it.”
“This is your journal?” I frayed the pages with my thumb, flipping it open to the first page.
“Yes. And it contains many secrets about my powers, so you must promise to keep it safe.”
I hugged it to my chest. “I promise.”
“Good.” He nodded once and shimmed down a little deeper into his covers, closing his eyes, though he didn’t give the impression he wanted to sleep. “You did good today.”
“I broke your arm. I hardly think that’s good.”
“Don’t you?” He opened one eye. “Because I think that’s pretty damn amazing.”
True. It was kind of amazing. A little. If I really thought about it. “Well,” I said lightly, standing up. “Next time you’ll think twice about making bets to win a kiss from me.”