Page 55 of Brother's Keeper

“The roof,” he growled, clearly straining with the effort of his spell.

“And the whole second floor!” I sputtered in response. “How much weight is that?”

“A lot.” Tobin glared at me. Sweat glistened on his brow. “Can you do it?”

If the ceiling came down, who knew what would come with it? Sofas? Beds? Bathtubs? Potentially thousands of pounds of crushing power.

It was more than I’d ever tried to move, hold, or support. And it didn’t help that the weight was spread along the length of a room, over the heads of almost a dozen people.

I couldn’t keep my gaze from returning to Briggs and his wife, trapped in the path of destruction. My heart fluttered with fear. “Just let me pull them out.” If only those two people survived this, I would consider it asuccess. I tested the air with telekinetic force, ready to grab onto the Briggs’ the moment I got the OK.

Tobin shook his head. “No time. I’m turning it off in three, two…”

Breath hung in my chest. I had three seconds to sink my anchors into the ceiling, choosing spots above the heads of the frozen party guests and hoping for the best.

The moment Tobin released his hold on the room, pressure fell like an anvil dropping on my head. Pain shot through my skull and into my clenched jaw. A cry wrenched out of me, and my eyes squeezed shut. I sunk to my knees.

Voices clamored and bodies rushed by. I pressed my palms against the rippled wood floor, my bitten-down nails scrabbling for purchase.

Searing pain like a branding iron driving into my gray matter drove stuttered breaths from me. With every second, the heaviness became less bearable.

I couldn’t see who, if anyone, made it out. Couldn’t feel anything but screaming agony until Holland’s voice drifted to my ears.

“Almost there,” she said. “I’ll tell you when.”

I whimpered as I was driven lower to the floor. Without anything physically touching me, I was being slowly, excruciatingly crushed.

Something warm and wet dampened my upper lip. I didn’t need to taste it to know it was blood.

“Now! Now!” Holland shouted and shook me.

Releasing my mental hold came with another sharp cry. Everything gave way.

I heard the thundering crash only a few feet from me.Hands looped under my arms, dragging me away from the cave-in.

Blood continued to leak from my nose, bubbling over my lips and off my chin. I mopped it with the sleeve of my shirt.

“You did great.” Holland’s voice came from close beside me. “Everybody’s out.”

But we weren’t. Not yet, and the collapse was only beginning.

I pried my eyes open, struggling to focus through the dark, dusty air. My brain felt like it was in a vise, beset with less pressure than when I’d been holding up the house, but only just.

I sniffed my blood-clogged nose and tried to sit up, but a headrush drove me back down.

“Come on.” Holland tugged on me. “We need to move.”

Hearing the sorrow in her voice brought me to a belated realization. This was her childhood home, falling into ruin. It must have been hard to watch.

“Fitch, get up,” she urged as my eyelids drooped again.

When I didn’t respond quickly enough, she threw my arm across her shoulders and dragged me to standing.

Dizziness overwhelmed me and I leaned heavily against her, fighting to keep my eyes open and my feet under me as we staggered out of the house.

“Do you need a ride home, Mister Farrow?” The woman healer beamed a tiny flashlight across my eyes.

I flinched away while daubing a wad of paper towels to my nose. “I’m good,” I muttered, the same assurance I’d given five times already.

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