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ChapterSeven
Whenever I read books and the characters claimed time slowed down around them, I called bullshit. It seemed so implausible, like they just wanted to fit in more description before getting into the action.
Yeah, it’s totally a thing. I’m talking action movie, low angle circling shots with birds flying overhead. I could have sworn Blond Guy froze in midair, arms outstretched as he reached for my throat.
He never made contact.
The slowing of time didn’t seem to affect me the same way, and I was able to finally reach inside and grab my ability tight, dragging it to the surface and pushing it outward.
Blond Guy dropped like a stone.
When Heath Connor had attacked me on my first night at Divinity Prep, I’d been horrified to see I’d turned him into a husk that barely resembled a human anymore. I’d been shocked and appalled at my own ability.
This time? This time I relished it. I didn’t mean to kill him. Honestly, I’d wanted to push him right to the very edge. But as I stared down at the desiccated remains before me, a satisfaction thrummed through my blood.
He’d deserved it. Who knew who else he’d hurt? Who he would have gone on to hurt in the future if I hadn’t stopped him?
“What the fuck?” I didn’t know which one had said it and I didn’t care. All I knew was that another body was moving toward me.
My vision had hazed over, so the next one to drop was a blur. More movement coming at me triggered my instincts, and I shoved my ability out harder.
Much harder.
And suddenly, the number of dead bodies on the ground in the alleyway had jumped from one to four.
My heart thundered in my chest as I surveyed the damage I’d wrought. Instead of satisfaction, I felt empty and ashamed. The shift in my mood was so drastic, it made me a little dizzy. I stumbled forward, careful not to touch any of the fresh—or decidedly unfresh—corpses.
Timmy lay on the ground unmoving, and fear gripped my chest. Had I… had I hurt him, too? I didn’t mean to, I’d only wanted to protect him, to use my ability for something good.
The groan he let out when I got closer was like a wave of relief that nearly knocked me off my feet. He was okay. Or, at least, he wasn’t dead like the rest of them. “Okay” may have been pushing it. There was agony in the sound he emitted, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the beating he’d received, or from something… godly.
My feet were moving toward him without conscious thought, and I was beside him in a second. Heedless of my dress hiking up to obscene heights, I crouched down next to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was the only part I thought I could touch without hurting him.
His hiss said I was wrong. I snatched my hand away, but I didn’t move back.
“Are you alright?” I could have slapped myself. Seriously? He was obviously not alright, he was more than half dead after the combo of his beat down and my power.
“G-get—” The word was a ragged wheeze, likely on account of what had to be several broken ribs.
“What is it? What do you want me to get?”
“Get… way…” He struggled to force the words from his battered lips. “Get a-away f-f-from me.”
I dropped back onto my ass in my haste to retreat, the disgusting asphalt scraping the flesh of my palms and the backs of my thighs. My stomach clenched so tight that it winded me for a second. He groaned again, and I scuttled back further before getting to my feet, yanking my dress down to cover me as I did.
“Do you, uh, do you want me to call someone? An ambulance or—”
“What… what are y-you?”
That struck yet another blow. I’d still been thinking of us as the same, but we weren’t. And he knew it. My skin prickled with the raw power that existed within me, driving the point home further.
Since I couldn’t very well give him the answer he was looking for, I did the only thing I could think of: I scrambled to my feet and fled.
It wasn’t easy. My abraded skin stung as I speed walked away from the gruesome aftermath. Calling the police seemed like the normal course of action after something like that, but there would be no explaining those corpses. The scene looked like someone had looted a museum delivery truck and tossed out some mummies they’d deemed worthless.
That wouldn’t hold up long once the authorities got a look at their modern clothes. Plus, the cellphones they undoubtedly had in their pockets would probably be a bit of a giveaway, too. Still, if I left that man there, he would probably die. There was no way he didn’t have internal bleeding.
The decision was taken out of my hands when I heard sirens in the distance. I slowed to a more sedate pace, pretending my heart wasn’t in literal danger of beating out of my chest. Wailing sirens grew louder with every step I took, and I walked forward with my head held high, like I didn’t have a care in the world.
