Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [63]
“That would’ve been nice,” Brent said, still cloud-watching. I had been expecting some smart comment about how much work I could have saved him. Since I didn’t get one, I knew his mind was mulling over something. When he reached his decision, he stood taller, tightening his jaw, his eyes cutting to mine.
“If I want Neal free and you want to make sure Cherie isn’t in danger, we’re going to have to fight the mist.” Brent rolled around so his back was against the trunk. “Not just defend ourselves, but really attack it.”
“I know that, but we barely escaped last time,” I said, leaning against a tree opposite his.
“I wasn’t expecting it to be so strong. Now I know; we’ll be prepared. I swear I’ll never let it get you.”
“That’s very sweet but I don’t think you can make that promise.”
Brent shook his head in disagreement.
“I notice he didn’t give you a chance to accept his offer,” I commented in a small voice.
“I didn’t expect him to.” Brent shrugged. “Like I said, he isn’t to be trusted. He was only hoping to get you without a struggle.”
“That’s not going to happen.” I clenched my teeth, my eyes flashing. “You need to train me. I need to be able to fight, too.”
Brent nodded in approval and his eyes twinkled. “I would expect no less from you.” I caught his eye and a feeling of warmth heated my insides forcing me to drop my eyes. “Let’s start training.”
****
“Concentrate,” Brent said.
“I am,” I snapped. My outstretched arm was shaking above a volleyball that rolled around but refused to leave the ground.
“Then concentrate harder.” He was standing beside me, his feet spread apart in a solid stance, watching the stubbornly un-levitating volleyball.
“I can’t.” A storm of frustration was brewing inside me and my face grew red, sweat forming on my forehead.
“Then I won’t let you fight.”
“If you let me practice on you instead of this stupid ball, I could probably do it,” I yelled over the tempest pounding behind my ears.
“Why should I let you? You can’t even manage a stationary object.” Brent moved his finger in a circle and the ball followed the motion. “You’d probably hurt me.”
I dropped my exhausted arm, rubbing the base of neck to prevent the tension headache I felt building. “If I remember correctly, you hurt me when you knocked me out of the way of the lightning.”
Brent’s gaze dropped to his shoes, wringing his hands together. “That was different.”
“How?”
“I had to act quickly.” Brent dangled his fingers toward the ball and it lifted into the air and soared toward him.
“How did you know it was going to hit me?”
Brent twirled the ball, giving it the illusion of spinning on his fingers like a top. “Outside of my body, I’m always more aware of things. Heightened senses and stuff.”
“That’s true for me, too.”
He waved the ball away and it bounced to the ground, rolling back toward the sand. “Yeah and I’ve always felt more connected to the elements, able to bend them to do what I wanted them to do.” He studied his nails like he really wanted to chew on them, but shoved his hands into his pockets. “Since I died, though, my connection to them has grown stronger. I just knew you were going to be hit by that bolt. I’m sorry for hastily pushing that day. The lightning surprised me.”
“Is that why it left huge welt marks on my chest?” I asked, cringing slightly at the memory.
“Yeah, I wasn’t as careful as I should have been.”
“Well, considering you saved my life, I’ll let it slide. I never did say thank you. So . . . thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The muscle near his left eye twitched. “The thing is, Yara, the lightning wasn’t near your game. That random bolt came out of nowhere.”
I climbed to my feet, reading between the lines. “You mean that lightning was meant to kill me?”
A slant of uncertainty crossed Brent’s face. “I think so.”
“So he tried to kill me several times?” The baby hairs on the nape of my neck stood on guard. I hadn’t just been murdered; I’d been stalked like prey.
“Yeah. By then