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He stepped forward again.
"I said go away!"
My hands flew up to ward him off, and he sailed off his feet, chin jerking up like he'd been hit with an invisible uppercut. He crashed to the ground, keys sailing from his hand, blood gushing from his nose.
I ran over. "I didn't mean--" I stopped. Swayed. Looked down at him, dazed and bleeding. I stepped back. "Don't you see? I never mean it. Never. But it doesn't matter. My mother. My father. Paige. Michael. Paula. Kayla. Everything I touch, everyone I touch."
"Not me." He pushed to his feet. "I'm not going anywhere, Savannah."
"No, you're not," I whispered. "You're staying right where you are. Because you know not to come any closer."
He screwed up his face. His nose gushed again and he swiped the blood aside, impatient. "What?"
"Nothing."
He moved in front of me. "There, is this close enough?"
I said nothing. He took another step, so close I could smell the blood.
"Still seems safe," he said.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
I lifted my gaze to his. "Don't mock me."
He looked me in the eye. "I'd never mock you, Savannah. I know you're hurting and you're going to lash out, and if you need to do that, then I'm right here. Lash away. I can handle it. Just don't do this to yourself. You want a target? Use me."
I started to shake. I clenched my hands to stop it. Waves of energy pulsed from my fists. Sparks popped, singeing his clothes, burning his skin. He only stepped closer, eyes locking on mine.
I stumbled back. Then I ran. I scooped up the keys and I ran, and I didn't care how immature it looked, what he thought of me for it. I took his keys and I ran because if I stayed, he'd get hurt. Or I would.
I ran to the Jeep, leaped inside, and pulled away from the curb, tires chirping, dust flying, seeing him out of the corner of my eye, but not daring to look. Just get away. Get away fast. Get away far.
forty-two
I drove to the motel. I grabbed my things, stuffed them into my bag, and took off on my bike, leaving the Jeep behind, keys on the bed where Adam could find them.
By the time I was pulling out of the lot, I could see him, coming toward the motel. His arm lifted, hailing me. But he didn't pick up the pace, knew it wouldn't do any good.
Get away fast. Get away far.
The last part didn't work out so well. I'd barely gone twenty miles on the highway before I began shaking again, this time from exhaustion. Then the rain started, a thunderstorm whipping up in the distance.
I stopped at the first motel I found. By the time I left the office with my key, the thunder was crashing, lightning splitting the sky, rain pelting, hard as hail. I trudged along, getting soaked, bone-cold soaked, and not caring.
When the key stuck in the lock, I was too exhausted to make the trek back to the office. I cast an unlock spell. It worked the first time. I went inside. Cast a lock spell on the door. Tested it, not quite trusting that my powers were back. They were--my temper tantrum earlier proved that.
I flicked on the light. It came on, then went off, every light in the parking lot following as the power failed. I cast my light ball.
Thank God for my spells.
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing back the prickle of tears. I still had my spells, but I'd give them up to fix what I'd done. I couldn't bring my mother back, or my father, or Michael, but if I could fix even one thing and give Kayla back her grandmother, I'd gladly give up my powers.
I stripped off my wet clothing and crawled into bed, the light ball still blazing on the night table beside me. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I slept through the storm. What woke me was a much quieter noise: soft snoring. I opened my eyes. The room was still pitch black, parking lot lights out.
