Page 3 of The Discovered
Time slowed down as my mothers’ silver bracelet burned my skin and then dissolved into ash. A monumental surge of energy I’d never felt before entered through the crown of my head and shot out through the palm of my instinctively outstretched hand. At my direction, the cab flew through the air and into the vacant building across the street, smashing through heavily vandalized glass.
A chorus of screams erupted and mixed with the boom of the collision. I was relieved to see Rena sit up, confused but unharmed. I stumbled as darkness washed over my consciousness, and before anyone could catch me, I fell hard to the pavement.
I’d always known I was different from the other children in my Northern Irish village. I started willing flowers to grow and bloom right before my mothers’ eyes at age five, and by the time I was ten, I brought lightning and hail with each temper tantrum. I tried my hardest to contain it. I witnessed my mothers’ terror with each display of raw power, but I couldn’t stop.
One day, I overheard Momma Jane talking to Momma Celeste in hushed tones in their bedroom. “They’re going to find her soon. We need to act.”
They sensed me lurking at the door and ceased speaking, immediately coming to console me. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as wind gushed through an open window and extinguished the candles on their dark mahogany dresser. I closed my eyes as they held me, trying not to give in to the enthralling energy reaching out to me from all directions.
Channeling that power was the greatest high I’d ever felt, but honoring my mothers meant never searching for it again.
Aware of my unconsciousness but unable to force myself awake, I thought of my mothers and our quaint, rural life among the rolling hills, where they braided flowers into my hair and told me stories of witches and magick. They sang to me in an ethereal, ancient-sounding language as we gardened. Sunlight warmed the back of my neck and I giggled as—
You need to run. You are in grave danger. Don’t trust anyone.A man’s deep voice rang in my mind, sharply cutting through the mirage of memories and replacing them with unstable darkness behind my eyelids.
Who are you?I asked into the void.
A friend. I will find you. Run.
My eyes flew open. My friends and a couple of strangers were gathered around me, a mix of fear and confusion in their eyes.
“Hey! Get back, guys. Give her some space,” Steph said, her voice strained and shaking.
Cole’s mouth was agape. “What is this? The motherfucking Avengers?”
“Ma’am, are you okay? Don’t move. An ambulance is on its way,” a man in a police uniform urged.
“What on earth just happened?” Reagan asked, looking at me in pure terror. His energy recoiled from me and went cold.
Something about me felt naked. Disoriented, I instinctively reached for my silver bracelet, only to wince in pain as my fingers brushed over festering red and white blisters where it used to rest. Tears brimmed in my eyes from the pain, soon replaced by hot panic as I realized my source of protection had disintegrated—as well as my only tangible connection to my mothers.
You need to run now, the male voice said again.
I lifted myself off the ground with my good hand, ignoring the police officer reaching out to me in protest. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to stay seated.”
“Don’t touch me,” I yelped, adrenaline—and something far more potent—coursing through my veins. Sparks flew from the streetlamp above, making everyone jump back. I met each of my friends’ eyes before brushing dirt and debris from my suddenly far too revealing red dress.
“I love you guys.” My voice caught in my throat. There was nothing else I could say to explain to them why I needed to go. I didn’t have enough time, and I refused to say goodbye. I didn’t want this to begoodbye.
I took off running as my friends called out after me, and for some reason the police officer decided to follow—his heavy stride pounding on the pavement in unison with my labored breaths.
“Fuck!” I muttered, my feet aching as I registered how impractical my high heels had become. He was going to catch up to me.
I shot a confused look back at the slightly overweight officer on my tail, then threw up my unburned hand and shot a bolt of energy back at him on instinct. I needed him to stop.
He grinned at me, and with a flick of his wrist he seemed to deflect the shot into a nearby car, shattering its windshield. I gulped. This was no cop, and I had absolutely no idea how to use my newly regained power.
It only took that one second of inattention toward the ground in front of me for my heel to catch in a dip in the pavement, sending me tumbling. A shot of pain erupted from my ankle, and I heard some kind of popping sound. I cried out, catching myself on my forearms so I didn’t break a wrist too. The pain from my blistered wrist hitting the hard cement was nearly unbearable, causing my tears to overflow.
The man came to a halt in front of me, his police uniform dissolving from him like a cloud of mist to reveal jeans and a plain black T-shirt. His face and body thinned out, and hair grew where he was once bald. I gasped at the emptiness of his icy, dark energy as it sent off a cacophony of warning bells through my system.
“You feel… evil.” I let his aura snap back to him. I wanted nothing to do with it.
He knelt down beside me, feigning shock. “Well, that’s not very nice, now is it?” He now spoke with an accent similar to a heavy Southern drawl.
I attempted to crawl away from him, but he grabbed my injured ankle. I screamed, helpless and unable to keep more tears from streaming down my face. His grip tightened, and he closed his eyes. From his palm came a horrible pulling sensation against my skin, and soon a look of pure bliss washed over his features.
He let out a gasp, his eyes fluttering open. “I’ve never felt anything like that. You’re the one they’ve been looking for, aren’t you?”
