Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [65]
“You’re right. I’m so afraid of you.” I rolled my eyes. “I constantly worry that you’re going to kidnap me or beat me up.”
He stepped close to me, lifting his hand to my cheek. Brent’s face moved close to mine, his intoxicating citrus and musk scent following him. Softly his fingers traced my cheek, turning my face toward him, his touch making my stomach pivot like a ballerina.
“There’s more than one reason to be scared, Yara. More than one way a person can hurt you, too.” The teasing tone was gone.
My useless dead heart floated up to my throat. “I . . . I . . .” I stuttered, staring into his silky brown eyes.
He chucked me gently under the chin before retreating back a few steps. “Of course, that’s just a theory.” Waving his fingers he lifted up some of the demolished ball. “I think we need to find you something new to work with.” Brent grinned at me. “I bet I can open the ball closet and find your next victim.”
“Isn’t that an ironic turn of phrase?” Thomas asked, stepping out from the shadows, bringing with him an aura of gloom, a deepening to the night, and a dank iciness to the air. “My victim has a victim.”
Brent instinctively pulled me behind him, trying to block me from Thomas’s gaze. His muscles tensed, preparing to act.
“I’m not your victim anymore,” I said in a trembling voice, peeking around the safety of Brent’s shoulders.
Thomas didn’t bother to stifle a yawn. “I guess this is your response to my kind offer, Brent?”
“I thought that was off the table, considering you sent your mist after us,” Brent responded hotly. My shaking fingers rested on Brent’s arm, trying to keep him calm.
Thomas cracked his stolen knuckles. “That was just a warning.” Thomas scowled and his eyes looked disappointed. “I had hoped it would let you see you really don’t have a choice but to cooperate.”
A heavy fog from the mist started to leak from Thomas, its dark limbs stretched toward me. Brent pointed one finger toward it, swatting it away. Hoping to help, I stepped out from behind Brent and raised my hands, trying to channel power into my fingertips. A serpentine arm swiped Brent aside and then struck out at me, wrapping around me like the end of a whip, pulling me toward Thomas. I couldn’t stop the gasp that exploded from me. The evil darkness formed into a hand and it jerked my chin up to look at Thomas. He breathed deeply as the tentacle tightened its grasp on me and then slowly started to sink into me. The impressions of suffering and pain started again. I screamed as his head fell back, his image shaking, blurring then sharpening before my eyes.
“Finally.” His head shot up and there was a calculating gleam sparkling in his eyes and a smile plastered on his face. “You’ve grown stronger, Yara. I can feel it— you’re what I’ve been waiting for. I can take you now and make you mine.” He licked his lips in anticipation. His inky black fingers caressed my face in a possessive way. I tried to push him away but his grip didn’t loosen. “Just think what you could bring with you if you came willingly.” He shoved me from him; a ripping sound shredded the air as his tentacle released me. He wheeled around to face Brent who had been sneaking up behind him.
“No need for that. I’ll be going,” Thomas said, backing away from us. “I’ll be watching and waiting.” He winked before sauntering out of view.
“What did he mean?” I asked, chafing my arms with my hands.
“I think,” Brent said, “that he’s waiting for you to develop more of your power.”
“But why?” I asked, balling my hands into fists.
Brent gave me a wry grin. “I think it’s rather like fattening the lamb before the slaughter. He thinks you’ll be more useful that way.”
I shook my head. “Does that mean I should stop training?”
“No!” Brent said adamantly. “It’s better to be prepared. The only way to win is to be strong.”
“But I doubt we’ll ever be stronger than he is,” I whispered.
“He’s not stronger, he just . . . caught me off guard before. Besides, I’m thinking of a strategy, Yara.