Page 56 of An Academy for Liars

Dante cracked a wry smile, then winced a bit as she tightened the bandages. “You saved us back there,” he said. “Thank you for that. I should’ve said that earlier.”

“You had more important things to deal with.”

“Even still. I owe you. I could’ve killed someone—”

“What do you mean? How?”

Dante seemed reluctant to answer, and she was surprised when he did. “Some persuasionists have the ability to siphon power from those around them. Essentially, they can manipulate the wills of others, use them as a power source. It’s dangerous—deadly, even.”

“And is that what you did back there? You took too much?”

“I shouldn’t have taken anything at all,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. It was…compulsive.”

When Dante had told her that he—like her—struggled to contain his own power, she hadn’t believed him. He was always so self-contained, entirely controlled. It was hard to imagine him acting on impulse or emotion. But that was exactly what had happened in Amsterdam. He’d lost himself, and the result had very nearly been deadly.

“What matters is that you stopped,” said Lennon. “You held yourself back.”

“No,youbrought me back,” he said, “with that elevator. But if you hadn’t been there—”

“Then you would’ve found another way to return to yourself,” said Lennon, and she wasn’t exactly certain who she was assuring: him or herself or both of them.

“The city was screaming,” he said, speaking to himself now. “And I knew that I was doing it, but I was as powerless to stop as the people who were under my will—”

“Hey,” said Lennon, grabbing at his hand. “Look at me.”

He looked.

“You didn’t hurt anyone, all right? You didn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” said Lennon. “I could feel it.”

With that, she tugged up his pant leg to examine the wound at his calf, but found that it was much smaller, and Dante had already covered it with a large stick-on bandage. “I did the best I could,” she said, sitting again beside him. “But I still think you should see a doctor tonight…or at the very least call someone at Drayton.”

“Drayton can wait until tomorrow,” said Dante, and when he spoke, she saw that blood was still collecting at the edges of his mouth. Was he bleeding internally? “I’m too spent to get to a gate tonight.”

Lennon made as though she hadn’t heard him. It was clear to herthen that he was out of his depth. He needed medical attention, preferably at Drayton. “I’m calling an elevator—”

“Lennon, don’t—”

She didn’t listen; she was already dredging up the strength she needed to summon it. This time she could tell that the power was within her grasp, but her mind was tired and wounded from the feat she’d performed in Amsterdam. If she called another elevator, she knew it would be at a great bodily, and probably psychic, cost. But for Dante, she was willing to try. She focused her gaze on a bare spot on the wall, cast out a hand, and ordered the doors to appear, but before they did, she felt a small snick within her psyche, and she was abruptly severed from the source of her power.

It took her a moment to register Dante’s presence within her mind, impeding her ability to access her own power, tamping down her will, her thoughts, everything. And she was overcome with a horrible weariness that she recognized as catatonia only as she slumped into the couch. “Get out of my head,” she mumbled, and her lips felt so numb and swollen she was barely able to form words.

“You need to stop,” he said, but he withdrew from her mind. “Just because you can access your power now doesn’t mean it’s wise to do it whenever you want. You’ve learned an important lesson, and that’s good, I’m proud of you—”

Lennon felt her cheeks flush warm at the praise.

“But there’s more to persuasion than blunt power. Now that you’ve learned to summon an elevator at will, the most important thing for you to practice is knowing when to hold back. Restraint will get you farther than brute force.”

Lennon relented, knowing he was right. “I could’ve done it, you know. If you hadn’t stopped me. I can do it anytime I want to now. I’ve finally got the hang of it.”

Dante’s gaze remained even. “What changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what was your lynchpin? How did you unlock it?”

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