Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [73]
We were both panting heavily as we wheeled together toward our enemy. I faltered for a second when I saw a face that had emerged from the mist. It was Thomas Weld. He looked just like his picture in Cherie’s room; he hadn’t aged in the sixty years since he was thought to have died.
“Focus,” Brent hissed as he grabbed my hand, and together we raised them to gather whatever force we could. We sent a wave of hail, rain, and wind so strong it knocked the leaves off all the trees in our area and ripped at branches that creaked in protest. The mist, instead of spreading, huddled together in a tight ball, the independent shadows joining the whole. With one last glare in my direction, Thomas drew the mass into himself.
I had been so surprised to see Thomas that I hadn’t realized Brent was still working. With a final push of air, Thomas was knocked back a step before retreating out of sight. The storm quickly cleared and the sun shone as brightly as it had before the battle. Brent lowered our hands and collapsed on the ground, cradling one of his ankles. We had won the skirmish, but the war was still not over.
Chapter 13
“Is it gone?” I asked hopefully, wiping away the sweat on my face.
“For now,” he said, his chest rattling with exhaustion. “It’ll be back.”
A knot formed in my stomach. “How do we get rid of it for good?” He shook his head. “How did it know to find us in Cherie’s room?”
“I’m pretty sure it was looking for Cherie and found us by mistake,” Brent said, resting his hands across his body.
“How come he wasn’t in your body this time?” I asked, arranging the length of my dress around me.
Brent let out a tired sigh. “He was done toying with us and was moving in for the kill. I know I’m stronger when I’m without my body. I’m guessing it’s the same for him.”
“Do you—”
Brent held up a hand to stop my flow of questions. “Can we do this later, after I’ve had a chance to rest?”
I bit my tongue, but my mind began theorizing and trying to make sense of what had happened.
“That includes thinking too loud,” Brent said wearily, his eyelids fluttering closed.
“Sorry,” I apologized sheepishly. He had risked everything to save me and I moved closer to him, taking one of his hands in mine. A lump of gratitude formed in my throat, so strong it was almost painful. Without thinking I threw my arms around his neck and went to kiss him on the cheek.
Or, at least, I meant to— but at the same moment Brent turned to me and started to say, “I was thinking—”
I’ll never know what he was thinking because his lips met mine. My eyes popped open in surprise. His eyes were wide in astonishment as well. For a long second, we sat there staring into each others eyes, our lips touching, totally frozen. My mind was a blank except for wondering if I could will the mist back to take me now and save me from this uncomfortable situation.
Finally, my wits returned to me and I pulled back hastily, my cheeks flushing with color. My fingers rushed to cover my offending lips. Brent tried to sit up but was still too weak and finally settled on scooting further away from me. Wanting more distance, I retreated back a few feet. I looked up at the sky, at the ground covered with fallen leaves, at the bare branches of the trees, anywhere but at Brent. Silence can be deafening.
Finally Brent cleared his throat. “Can’t say I’m that surprised that you succumbed to my charms.”
“I didn’t mean to kiss you,” I said, embarrassed beyond belief.
“Really? So your lips just ended up close enough to touch mine by mere coincidence?” While his words almost seemed to be teasing, his tone wasn’t.
I dared to glance at him and saw that he too was avoiding looking at me. He was studying the palm of his hand like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“I went to kiss your cheek as a gesture of thanks but then you turned to talk to me and . . .” it was far too humiliating to finish the sentence so I didn’t. The fact that I had to explain my actions bothered me. “Don’t you already know this? Can’t you tell through means other than having to speak?