Second Chance Fate Page 16

  My stomach clenched, and I squeezed my eyes together to hold back tears as I curled up into a ball of misery. Slug’s rough tongue licked my cheeks until I shoved him away. I wasn’t in the mood to play with him. Deep inside, I’d hoped against hope my parents might find a way to visit me. But again, just as in the previous months, I hadn't been able to reach them by phone.

  Ms. Farkas had stopped promising to try to find out what was going on. I assumed either she knew more than she wanted to let on or, more likely, she was in the dark like me. And yet, like a fool, every week I tried to reach them again.

  The last time, Strickland had been in the office. When I’d put down the receiver, he’d stared at me, his eyes full of pity. I hated that look. I didn't cry any more after leaving the office. Getting my hopes up again and again, just to have them crushed every week in front of the head witch, had numbed me.

  But today, being numb didn't work. Today was Thanksgiving Day, and I was alone. Well, except for Slug. His head kept butting against my chin, and he tried his hardest to worm his body into my arms. I sighed and opened up to his feline comfort. “Hey, big boy. You’re the only one who loves me, aren’t you?”

  He blinked at me as if saying, “Yeah, duh.”

  Eventually I got up and dug shamelessly into Sharon's candy supply. And that's how I spent my day, eating, feeling sorry for myself, and nodding off with Slug in my arms.

  By late afternoon, I’d had enough. I rolled out of bed and walked to the showers without bothering with clothes. What was the point anyway? It wasn’t like anybody would taunt me for the ratty towel I was wrapped in. They were all gone, celebrating frigging Thanksgiving with their families.

  After my shower, I trotted over to the cafeteria. There was nobody else in the cavernous room with its metal benches and tables. The staff were off, and the few students that had stayed behind had probably already finished eating. It really felt like I was on my own in the academy grounds.

  After collecting a covered plate from the industrial fridge as instructed, I slipped it into the microwave. The chef had tried, but the thin slices of meat covered in cranberry sauce with vegetables and soggy roast potatoes didn’t come anywhere close to my mom’s dinner.

  By the time I returned to my room, it was dark. And apparently, admin had decided to save electricity. The streetlights dotted around the campus were turned off. The only ones working were the emergency lamps above the dorm doors.

  Back at the room, I sat on my bed, bored out of my mind. Slug had gone for a nap under my cover, not that I blamed him. There was no TV, no internet, no cell phone and, stupidly, I'd forgotten to check out some books from the library before the holidays.

  Heaving a deep sigh, I flopped back onto my mattress. These were going to be a miserable few days until Beth and the boys came back. There was no way I’d be able to go to sleep now after resting most of the day. But maybe I could practice my magic? I perked up.

  Might as well get a head start on the next term. Rubbing my fingers together, I created a small spark, like a flint striking a stone. It tickled, and I felt better, a little more in charge. So I did it again and again, and each time, the spark grew bigger.

  Wonder how far I can take this. Excitedly, I clapped my hands together and stretched the white flares into longer lines of pure power. The light was so bright my eyelids fluttered half-shut against the glare. I suspected the power would have burned my retinas had I been a normal person. As it was, when I closed my eyes, the after-image flared against the inside of my eyelids.

  Slug meowed quietly and pressed himself against the wall. I checked to make sure he was completely covered by the blanket.

  “Stay down, boy. There’s a good cat,” I whispered. Then I turned back towards my experiment. I wonder if the lightning hurts? No better time like now to try it out. Clenching my eyes shut and preparing for the impact, I sent a small bolt towards my big toe. It hit the ground with a sizzle, but I didn't feel any pain. When I opened my eyes, the top of my sock was singed, but the skin was completely intact. No blisters or burns. Awesome!

  For the next hour I practiced, making the lightning stronger and aiming it at Sharon’s things that were strewn around the room. Now, we mostly ignored each other, but I hadn’t forgotten her bitchiness when I’d first arrived. What better revenge than melting her candy bars on the shelf above her bed.

  I didn’t stop until her peanut butter cups were fused onto the wooden surface. She’s going to be so pissed. I snickered at the image of her epic hissy fit. Yeah, yeah, it wasn’t nice, but seriously? She’d had it coming for a while.

  Eventually, I got bored. What else could I do? I remembered a story about my great-grandfather back in the old country. He’d opened a window in a thunderstorm, and lightning had entered the house in the shape of a white ball. It had run around the room with the whole family screaming and diving for cover, and it had exited the same way.

  The idea of my stiff Victorian ancestors with their white, long dresses and black suits crawling under tables and sofas for cover had made me laugh out loud when I’d first heard it. Maybe my dad had made the whole thing up, but now I had a chance to try it out for myself.

  I cupped my hands and focused my power into the middle of my palms. A glowing ball began to grow. The brilliant whiteness overwhelmed my vision, so I averted my gaze and willed the lightning ball to get bigger. When it fit perfectly into my palms, I tried to turn off my power. But something didn’t feel right. The harder I focused, the more it felt like the ball was feeding itself, sucking the power from my core without any input from me.

  Were the dampeners malfunctioning? I had no idea. As I watched in horror, the ball grew, but my power to control it didn’t. My hands trembled, fighting to stop the magic flowing out of me into the lightning.

  From one second to the next, I lost it. The ball grew too big and spilled over the rim of my cupped hands. It landed next to me on the bed. Nothing happened for a moment, other than a thin column of smoke rising. Then my sheets burst into flames.

  31

  I scrambled off the bed. For a moment, I stared at the growing flames. Then instinct kicked in. I grabbed the blanket and pulled it off Slug. Bits of burning fabric floated in the air. The cat hadn’t made a sound, even though the fire was about to touch his orange coat.

  “What the hell, Slug. Move!”

  His head lifted, and for a split-second, I was back in the burning street, staring into two frightened eyes underneath a car. The same terror was freezing him now as it had done then.

  Swearing up a storm, I reached across the smoldering sheet and grabbed him. Lifting him off my mattress nearly broke my back, but I got him away from the heat. Red-hot specks of glowing fiber were landing on my bare arms, but I felt nothing with all the adrenaline coursing through me.

  Slug was safe for the moment, but I was freaking out. The fire was spreading fast, eating up the ugly linoleum flooring. I fought the urge to run and scream for help. But who would hear me? Everybody had left.

  Not only was the fire spreading, but the energy ball continued feeding the flames. I tried as hard as I could to draw the magic back inside of me, but it didn’t work. The air tasted of acrid chemicals. Thick smoke drifted to the ceiling, building up a bank of poisonous gases. I dropped to the floor, desperate to get out.

  “Slug…” My voice sounded like a three-packs-a-day smoker. Coughing, I crawled to Beth’s side of the room when footsteps approached my dorm at a run. The door crashed open. Strickland stood in the doorway, taking in the situation. With a few hand gestures, he created a faintly glowing box encasing the lightning ball.

  Then he stretched out both hands, and water poured from his fingertips onto the brightly burning fire. Within minutes, the flames were contained and then fizzled out. When it was all over, he turned towards me, his expression furious.

  "For God's sake, what were you trying to do? Burn the whole place down?”

  I got up, shaken and embarrassed. My voice sounded very small.
"No, I was practicing."

  "What happened?"

  "It was going really well, but then the dampeners must have kicked in. I lost my power, and that's when the ball dropped onto the cover."

  Strickland’s anger disappeared as quickly as it had shown itself. His eyes twinkled with amusement. "I see. It looks like you’re making a lot of progress."

  I nodded. "Yes, but I can’t get any further with those stupid dampeners."

  We both stared at the lightning ball. While we'd been talking, it had begun to shrink, cut off as it was from my magic. When it finally fizzled out with a sudden pop, the teacher cleared his throat.

  “Well, it was lucky I was on my way to you when I smelled the smoke. Don’t worry about the damage. Obviously we need to air the place out, and your bed is toast. The flooring needed to be replaced anyway, so really, you did your roommates a favor.”

  He waved his hand as if my terror was of no importance. It kind of pissed me off, to be honest. I was glad to hear I wouldn’t get into trouble, but my hands still shook. Slug was hissing from underneath his hideout.

  Strickland was oblivious to both my shaken state and Slug’s irritation. He walked to the door and held it open. “I’ve got news. Let’s walk and talk.”

  I had no choice but to follow him. Not after he just saved my ass. But I don’t trust you. At all.

  He wouldn’t say anything else until we were out in the open. I couldn’t decide if he were being paranoid or just dramatic. By the time he spoke again, I was dying of curiosity. "You know I'm concerned about your safety."

  That got my attention. I glanced at his profile, willing him to continue.

  "I spoke to a few people on the outside, agents at the FBMA. They confirmed that whoever is behind the plot against you is likely to make a move soon."

  I gaped at him. He’d mentioned this weeks ago, but since then, he’d neither confirmed nor denied it. I’d been able to push it away and not think about it. To hear it so bluntly now, when I was alone with him in the dark, was freaking me out. Was he lying to me? Was he telling the truth? I had no way of knowing, and the confusion must have shown on my face.

  Strickland glanced at me before continuing. "Look, it’s not all bad. We don't know why the conspirators haven’t made a move yet, but I’ve arranged to get you out of here as soon as possible. All we have to do is wait for the break to be over."

  I frowned. "Wouldn’t it be easier to leave now, when there's nobody around?"

  Strickland shook his head. "No, the administration has strengthened the wards while most of the faculty is gone. Not even I can get you through those. Right now, the academy is the equivalent to a high-security holding facility. We have to wait until school resumes and the barriers are lowered again."

  I was dumbfounded. “Do they really think I’m that dangerous?"

  The teacher chuckled without humor. "It’s not all about you. But yes, they consider you a killer. Don’t forget that."

  I nodded. I hadn't forgotten. I just hadn’t allowed the knowledge to destroy me. I clenched my teeth against the injustice of it. Finally I asked,"So what’s the plan? We wait until the other students are back before I escape? But then what? What’s stopping them from coming after me outside? They know where I live, don’t they?"

  "They do. You’ll have to go into witness protection with your family. I spoke to your parents, and they miss you terribly. They’re keen to join you whenever we make our move."

  I snorted. "Seriously? If they miss me so much, why haven’t I been able to talk to them? How come they've never visited or written ?"

  "Exactly. How come? Do you really think they didn't try all of it? Their letters were destroyed before they even got here. No, Amber. They haven't forgotten you. This is what it means to be enrolled here. You give up your rights. Your old classmates might not miss you, but your parents haven't given up. And they're willing to do whatever it takes to get you back.”

  Could it be true? My heart suddenly felt so much lighter than before as I latched on to what Strickland had said. They haven’t given up on me.

  “So what’s your plan to get me out?”

  Strickland’s voice dropped to a whisper. "You nearly managed to put your dorm on fire. Something like that would make an excellent diversion. If I managed to turn off the dampeners, you’d have to cause enough damage to keep the guards occupied. By the time they realize you’re gone, you’d be safely away.”

  I stopped walking. My stomach dropped. That sounded awfully like the diversion Paul had suggested to me weeks ago. "But—”

  “In the basement of the administration wing sits the generator that powers the wards along the perimeter. If you aim a lightning strike right into the center of it, it’ll blow up. Not only will it open the gate for us, it would also cause enough havoc to distract everybody.”

  I stopped walking and stared at him. "Hang on. If I hit the generator with my full powers, it would cause part of the building to collapse.”

  Strickland nodded.

  “But people could get killed.”

  The teacher shrugged. "Not necessarily. Believe me, there is no other option. You don't seem to realize how much danger you’re in. I don't know how much longer you have before they’ll subject you to an extraction. If you don't act now, the only thing I can guarantee is that you’re going to die in agony.”

  I stared at him as a movie reel ran through my mind of a man collapsing with smoking clothes, of lightning flashing and bouncing off cars. Of people running for their lives, their eyes wide with terror. I would not be the cause again. Not now, not ever.

  “No.”

  Strickland stared at me as if he couldn't believe his ears."What do you mean? Amber, you’ve got to act now before it's too late."

  I shook my head. "No. I would rather die than be responsible for that much misery again. You know damn well what happened before was an accident. I had no control over it. But what you’re asking of me now is the cold-blooded murder of my classmates and teachers. So no. No fucking way."

  Strickland grabbed my upper arms, enough to hurt. He glared at me, and his face morphed into a mask of rage. He lowered his voice to a threatening snarl.

  “I didn't wanted it to come to that, but you’re acting like a stupid little child. So let me put it another way. If you don't do as I tell you, I’ll make sure my contact will pay a visit to your parents. If you don't want to save yourself, at least think of the people who love you. Would you sacrifice them for your pride?”

  Just as quickly his facial expression slipped back to one of concern. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. But you have to understand this isn’t about you. If those people get hold of your power, they will do far, far worse than endanger a few school kids. They will use it to become invincible, and then God knows what they will do to non-magic users.”

  I swallowed hard, thinking of my father’s anti-magic rants. How many kids in high school hated magic users, even though it wasn't our fault? Even though we got contaminated by something we couldn’t avoid?

  If I hadn't seen Malcolm Strickland slipping in and out of his role as easily as changing his shoes, I would have thought his request was reasonable. Except I already didn’t trust him and, as it turned out, rightly so. He scared me with his stories and his warnings to be careful. And now he’d threatened my parents to get me to play along with his plan. Why was he so keen to get me out of here?

  As we walked back to my dorm, we both were deep in thought. The teacher’s presence loomed like a threatening shadow over me. I shivered, turning his words around and around in my mind. When he left me outside my building, I barely noticed him walking away.

  Entering my room brought me back to the present double-quick. My bed was destroyed, my cover singed and drenched. The smell of burned fabric and plastic lingered in the air, even though the window was wide open.

  As I slept in Beth’s bed that night, I dreamed of my parents’ house burning down. Through a window, I watched in horror how lightning
consumed my mom, my dad. They were screaming in agony as their flesh turned red and then black. My mom pointed at me through the glass. Wailing in agony, she screamed, “It’s your fault,” as she sank to her knees.

  When they were nothing but bones and ash on the ground, I woke up, gasping for air. Clutching the cover, my face wet with tears, I knew one thing with total certainty: I needed to get out of here. I had to warn my family what was coming for them.

  32

  I had to hand it to admin—even though most of the caretakers and staff had left for the week, they’d managed to send some men to fix my room, including setting up a brand-new bed. They sent me on a walk while Slug was locked in the bathroom, and by the time I returned two hours later, it was all done. Like magic.

  Julian was the first to return after the holidays. I’d just finished my shower and gotten dressed when somebody knocked at the door. I opened, and before I could say anything, he pulled me into a tight hug, pressing his lips against mine. Clinging to his shoulders, I had no choice but to surrender to his exploration of my mouth.

  When my knees buckled, he stopped and pulled back. "Where's Beth and Sharon?"

  "They should be back this afternoo—"

  Before I could finish the sentence, he moved me gently backward. When my knees hit the bed, I sat down heavily. Julian kept going until I was flat on my back. Then he pressed me into the mattress with his whole body, seeking my lips again. He kissed me so surely and strongly, I writhed under him as the tension built. His cinnamon scent, spicy and sweet at the same time, invaded my nostrils. His hips made tiny aborted moves, rubbing against me until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  Pulling my lips from his, I gasped, "I thought we were going to go slowly?"

  His eyes were full of heat, but at my words, he pushed himself up. Smiling sheepishly, he said, "You're right. I just missed you so much. And you looked so delicious when I came in."