“How is your practicing going?” I was surprised, expecting him to talk about Rafe.
“Um, I think it’s going well.” I was cautious; I knew Caroline was wary of Marica, and I suspected that her husband shared that sentiment. “I’m working in all four elements now.”
He grinned again. “Fun, isn’t it? I toyed a bit with that when I was younger. Never had your talent for it, though.” He hunkered down so that he was at eyelevel with me and said in a conspiratorial tone, “I used fire casting to catch Caroline’s eye, once upon a time.”
I laughed, charmed. “You Brooks boys really are all the same, aren’t you?”
“You’ve found us out.” William glanced up, and his eyes grew thoughtful. “Here comes that other Brooks boy. I’ll leave him to charm you now.”
Hey, Tas. Even though I know I’m not supposed to, I still worry about you. I wish I could see you, touch you… even hear your voice. Just to know you’re okay. I love you, Tasmyn. Call me.
I watched William Brooks stride toward the house. As he passed Rafe, he stopped to lay a hand on his grandson’s shoulder. They had a brief, whispered conversation, and since they both possessed the ability to block me, I couldn’t even guess what they said.
Rafe kept his expression neutral as he approached and handed me a bottle of water. He didn’t sit back down with me; instead, he stood, staring into the distance, taking long swigs of his own drink.
“Thanks for the water,” I ventured.
“No problem,” he replied, words clipped.
“I was talking to your grandfather.” When he still didn’t respond, I went on, though I could hear the tremble in my voice as I tried to sound normal and upbeat. “He was telling me that he used to practice on the elements, too. He cast a fire-”
“To get Gram’s attention, yeah. I know. Old family story.” Rafe dropped to the ground at last and pinned me with a long stare. “No small talk right now, okay? Not in the mood.”
I bit my lip and tried to ignore the knots in my stomach. “Sure. Sorry. Why don’t I go and leave you to…” I flipped up one hand. “Whatever it is you are in the mood to do.”
Rafe reached over and grabbed my arm. “What I’m in the mood to do is spend some time with my girlfriend. Not arguing, not talking magic or powers or whatever. Not talking at all.”
He was opening himself up now, tearing down the blocks, and what he was feeling overwhelmed me. It wasn’t just physical—though that was a large part of it. He wanted me, wanted every part of me. He was frustrated that I was holding back pieces of myself.
“Rafe, not now, okay?”
“Not now? Then when?” He let go of my arm and fisted one hand against his forehead. “God, Tas, you have no idea. I don’t know what I have to do. I’m sticking with you on this witch stuff, helping you get around your parents. I’m trying to be patient and understanding. But every time I think we’re getting closer, you pull back. You find a reason to fight with me.”
I fought the tears rising in my eyes. “I don’t like to fight,” I whispered. “I just need some time…”
“I don’t think it’s time.” Rafe shook his head. “Let’s face it. All the time in the world isn’t going to make me Michael.”
Pain seared across my chest, and I sucked in air between clenched teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rafe snorted. “Come on, Tasmyn. Let’s be honest with each other. If I were Michael, you wouldn’t be pushing me away. My hands would be-”
“Stop it, Rafe! You have no idea. Stop saying his name.” I scooted away from him, out of reach, and struggled to hold back the wracking sobs that were threatening. Rafe’s thoughts made his misconceptions about my relationship with Michael very clear. “I didn’t—he never—we never…”
“You never what? The two of you, as close as you were? You expect me to believe that Michael didn’t touch you?”
I shook my head as a mix of hurt, embarrassment and anger stirred within me. “No, I’m not saying he didn’t ever touch me. But we didn’t… do what you’re thinking we did.”
Confusion covered Rafe’s face. “You…” He stopped for a moment. “But I thought… I saw the two of you together. He never stopped holding you. You never left his side.”
I thought back to the few times I’d been with Michael in front of Rafe. They’d met at Thanksgiving the previous year, when a bunch of us had a bonfire at Lancer Lake. It was true that Michael and I had been all over each other; we’d been apart for weeks and were so happy to be together again…
Remembering brought a whole new wave of pain, and I closed my eyes. It was still as raw as it had been in December.
Rafe made a noise in the back of his throat, skepticism or annoyance, I couldn’t tell. I sucked in another deep breath.
“I know how it must have looked, but I’m telling you the truth. I’m not ready for that. Not with Michael, not with you. If that’s a problem, Rafe, you’d better let me know now.” Anger was beginning to replace the hurt, and a warning gust of wind swirled around us.
Rafe ignored it. “I didn’t say that. I didn’t say it was a problem. I just thought… well, I thought you didn’t want me. Not like you wanted him.”
He was right. My feelings for Rafe were real and strong, but they were completely different from what Michael stirred in me. I couldn’t name them, and I couldn’t explain without hurting Rafe even more. It was frustrating.
As my temper and pain ratcheted up a few more knots, the wind picked up. On the back veranda, I could see the potted plants falling over. Above us the palm fronds were whipping, flipping against each other and the trunk of the tree.
“Tas, stop it.” Rafe had finally noticed what was happening. But it was too late. The anger fueled the power, and the power was surging in its favorite outlet, the wind.
There was a loud crack and a huge palm branch fell to the ground, missing me by inches. Rafe grabbed me just in time, pulling us away from the trees as he held me to his chest.
“Shh, baby, come on. Calm down. Rein it in.” He cradled me in his lap, rubbing my back. I closed my eyes and focused on winding down the rage. I worked on making my breath even, hissing between locked teeth and pulling back the power, inch by inch.
When it was nothing but a light breeze, Rafe finally loosened his hold on me. He leaned his forehead against mine.
“Tas, that was crazy,” he whispered. “You’re going to have to figure out how to control it. Or it’s going to get way out of hand.”
I was too shaken to disagree.
Hi, Tas. Hope you’re doing okay. I wonder how your senior year is going, if you’re excited to be done with high school, if you’re going to prom. I guess right now that’s none of my business. But I still love you, Tas. Call me.
For the next week, Rafe and I carefully avoided discussing our relationship. We hung out together, both at school and at his grandparents’ home. We talked about my work with Marica and about normal, everyday things. But we never talked about what had happened the past Saturday.
In the privacy of the Brooks’ garden or sitting room, Rafe held and kissed me, but he didn’t push any further. In fact, there seemed to be a new tenderness in the way he touched me, and I wasn’t sure if it frightened me or made me happy.
I felt as though I were walking on a tightrope, worried that if I upset our delicate balance, one of us was going to end up bouncing in the nets below.
If Marica noticed my preoccupation, she didn’t comment. We spent our time together trying to refine all of my elemental magic, working especially on the air, which continued to be an issue. For whatever reason, my feelings were closer to the surface when I was interacting with the wind. My own lack of restraint frustrated me, which only complicated everything. When I was with Rafe, his overwhelming worry, so easily discerned, annoyed me all the more, and we both ended up cranky.
On Sunday afternoon, we met at Lake Rosu. I wanted to show him how well I was doing with mastering water, and the woods there
were the safest place for me practice my wind work. Rafe applauded as the lake turned into a complicated series of plumes and waves, but as we made our way back to the clearing, he was quiet.
“You’re blocking me again,” I commented. We were walking hand-in-hand on the now-familiar trail, but it felt like he was a million miles away.
“Am I?” Rafe shot me a sideways glance and half smile.
“Yeah. So what is it that you don’t want me to hear?”
We had reached the boulder that marked the turn off the path, and Rafe dropped my hand. He leaned against the huge rock and studied me, his face as inscrutable as his mind.
“I’m thinking that I understand Michael a lot more. I can see why he didn’t want you to do this.”
The breeze around us picked up, but I ignored it. My heart was beating faster, and that wall of pain that I’d built around Michael’s name was threatening to fall on top of me. I turned my back on Rafe.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” I said through gritted teeth.
“It’s like I’ve been telling you, Tas. This is not a good thing. I get that you’re enjoying the strength. But you’re nowhere near in control of it, and she’s not doing anything to help.”
“She is. Marica wants me to control my feelings so that they don’t affect my abilities—she’s always saying-”
“Yeah, that’s what she says, but she’s introducing you to too much too soon. And why? What’s the big rush? Have you even asked her why she wants you to do all this?”
That one hit close to home. I’d been trying to subtly worm out of Marica exactly what her goals were for me, but she remained evasive; when I became too insistent, she ended the lesson or distracted me with some new trick to learn. I never realized it until after I’d left her.
“I’ve asked. What kind of hidden agenda could she have, Rafe? Seriously? She just wants me to-to realize my potential. She’s doing this for me. And you sound like my parents, always seeing some shadow lurking around the next corner, ready to take advantage of me. Give me a little credit.” The wind began to whip around us in earnest now. Rafe raised his eyebrows.
“Can’t you feel this?” he said, almost yelling to be heard. “This is you, Tasmyn. You’re mad at me, and so you’re going to call up a windstorm. You need to learn control. I don’t know how to teach you that, and obviously she won’t-”
“Just leave!” I screamed the words, both out of anger and the need to be heard over the now-constant wind. “I don’t want you here. Go away!”
As my fury rocketed, suddenly a crack of lightening appeared out of nowhere, hitting so close to us that the ground shook. Rafe reached for my arm to steady me, but I shook him off. The rage within me fed on itself, and another bolt of lightning struck, nearly hitting the boulder. Rafe sprang back, pulling me with him back down the path, away from the trees and toward the beach.
We stumbled out of the woods, onto the gravel that made up the parking lot. The sky over Lake Rosu was dark with clouds, and lightening danced over the water. I looked up at Rafe in confusion.
“That’s not—I didn’t make that happen!” My voice was low, but he heard me, even over the still-whipping wind. “This is just Florida, right?”
Rafe gazed out over the lake, trouble etching his face. “I don’t know.” He pulled me close and cupped my face in his hand. “Just try to calm down. Take good, even breaths. Look at me.”
I kept my eyes locked on his and obeyed. I couldn’t avoid noticing that as my heartbeat slowed and my temper abated, the clouds disappeared and the storm seemed to vanish. Within a few minutes, the lake once again glistened in the sun, beneath the boundless blue sky.
I collapsed against Rafe, unable to stand on wobbly legs. “That was me, wasn’t it?” I whispered.
Rafe rubbed my back. “It had the feel of magic. Can’t say for sure though.” He was trying to inject humor into his tone. “Like you said, Florida is kind of unpredictable.”
“The lightning?” I shook my head against his chest, grateful once more for his strength. “That’s new.”
“Yeah,” Rafe agreed. “But you know—wind. That’s what moves weather. It might just be that you blew in a storm by accident.”
“Yeah,” I echoed, swallowing hard. “Maybe.” I drew in one more deep steadying breath and pushed away from Rafe. “It seems to be gone now. Let’s go to the clearing.”
Rafe’s mouth dropped and his eyebrows shot up. “Are you kidding me? You just call down the wrath of—I don’t know, the heavens, and now you want to go do more of this stuff?”
“I need to practice,” I said stubbornly. “I have to work on the wind. Marica wants me to master it.”
“She didn’t see what just happened. You don’t need more practice, you need teaching, you need supervision. If I can’t even mention Michael’s name—”
“Stop.” I gritted my teeth and kept my voice low, my feelings in check. “Don’t talk about him. Don’t say his name.”
“Why not? He’s out of your life for good, right? When are you going to adjust? How long until we can have a conversation that mentions him without you bringing down the house or making a hurricane?”
An ominous breeze stirred around me. “You know what, Rafe? I was right earlier. Leave. Go home. I don’t want you here.”
His eyes were angry and hurt. “You want me to just walk away?”
“Yes. You’re upsetting me, and I don’t want…” I looked around us cautiously. “I don’t want to do this again. No more storms. Go home. I’ll talk to you later.”
For several beats Rafe stood, looking down at me. Once again, I was cut off from his thoughts, and all I could see on his face was anger.
Finally he turned without another word and stalked to his car. I went back down the path toward the clearing before I changed my mind and ran after him.
Hey, Tas. I miss you like crazy today. I miss you all the time, but sometimes it’s sharper. I want to tell you it’s okay to have doubts about stuff, but remember that you can believe in me. I love you and I always will. Call me.
Madame Sill, my French teacher, was usually pretty good about letting us out when the bell rang, but today, she was in the middle of a complicated explanation—in French—and dismissed us about ten minutes late. I fidgeted, anxious to get to Marica. When Madame finally let us go, I sprinted down the almost empty walkway.
I was in a rotten mood. It had been nearly a month since Marica had introduced me to the element of air: weeks of surreptitious practice until I had thought I could control myself almost all the time. But my experience at the lake the day before had frightened me; it made me realize that my emotions were still overriding my power.
And speaking of the lake, Rafe was still mad about our fight there. When I had walked back down the path after a few hours of practice, Rafe was gone. He didn’t call that night, and he hadn’t shown up at lunch earlier today, although I knew he was in school; I’d caught a glimpse of him in the afternoon between classes, and I could feel him just out of sight several times throughout the day.
I wasn’t certain how I felt about that situation. On one hand, ending my relationship with Rafe might be a relief: it had never felt completely right, and I was uneasy during most of our time together. On the other hand, Rafe was the only person who knew every aspect of my current life. He was the only person I could talk with about Marica, my parents and my growing powers. As much as I knew he worried, he would never betray my trust.
Marica would be happy if Rafe were out of the picture. She never mentioned him, but when his name came up—as it did from time to time, when I told her about my practice—her lip curled in that disdainful way that I associated with her extreme displeasure. She wasn’t going to push me, but I knew where her preference lay.
At my locker, I shoved in the books I didn’t need and slammed the door shut. In my mind, I was already planning my afternoon session with Marica: a little showing-off of my plant growing ability, a little display of how well I could
control the air now… I pushed aside the memory of the freak lightning storm the day before. I had nearly convinced myself that it was just a coincidence. If Marica didn’t know about it, I wasn’t going to tell her…
“Tasmyn! Wait a second!” Amber’s voice jerked me out of my brooding. She was behind me on the walkway, waving to get my attention. Annoyance flared, and I tried to keep it from showing in my face. Amber knew something was up. She’d pressed me at lunch today about why Rafe wasn’t eating with us. I could hear the suspicions in her mind. I needed to get out to Lake Rosu, and I was tired of making excuses to Amber—or anyone else.
She caught up with me and smiled. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to miss you. Are you heading home?”
“Um… yeah. And I’ve got a ton of homework, so I can’t—”
“Tas, I really want to talk to you. Please. Come home with me. Or I’ll ride home with you. I just feel like something is going on and you’re not telling me.”
Temper threatened again, and I choked it down. “I can’t today, Amber. I’m sorry. I’ve got—I just can’t. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay? At lunch. Everything’s fine. Really.”
Amber’s brow knit together. “Wait a minute, isn’t today your tutoring day? Aren’t you supposed to be working in the library?”
I clutched desperately at that straw. “Ah, yeah, that’s right, thanks for reminding me! I’m going to head there right now. So I’ll see you—”
“I’ll wait for you. I’ll do some reading in the library. And then maybe afterward we can talk.”
“Amber!” Now the impatience and anger were in my voice. “I told you, I can’t. Not today. Please, give me a break.”
I saw the hurt on her face, but this time it didn’t bring guilt, only irritation. My heart began to pound, and I didn’t fight the surging rage. It was feeding on itself, waves of animosity breaking at the surface.
Amber didn’t seem to notice. She reached out to touch my arm. “Tasmyn, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I know it’s something bad. Is it—are you still seeing Ms. Lacusta? I know you said you weren’t, but you’re acting so strange. Please, let me help you-”
King 03 - Restless Page 15