The Power
Page 30
“Hell,” I muttered, rubbing my hand along my jaw.
I wasn’t sure what to think of the nymph, whether he was friend or foe, but in the end, what the nymph had said was mostly true. There was blood on my hands, and there was only retribution and vengeance in my future.
Josie
My face hurt.
So did my head and eyes. Actually, every part of me ached. My head was stuffy and eyes swollen from crying enough tears to fill the stupid room, and my stomach was brutally empty. I’d gone way past the stage of being hungry. It felt like I wouldn’t eat again.
At some point, I’d managed to pull myself off the floor and kick off my sneakers before face-planting my bed. That had turned out to be a major mistake, because the sheets, the pillows?—everything—smelled like Seth. Like the outdoors and the unique scent that reminded me of burning leaves. The tears had really started at that point, and it had been ugly. The big, fat sobs came from a deep place inside of me and they shook my entire body. I’d cried myself asleep, and when I woke up the tears started all over again. For a while, there seemed like there’d be no end in sight.
That had been Friday morning. I’d barely moved from the bed in two days, and my eyes were as dry as the desert. My hair was limp and greasy. Showering seemed like it required way too much effort.
I’d never been in love before.
I’d never had my heart broken by a guy before.
Yes, my heart had been wounded a time or two. There was this guy in high school who I had a pretty big crush on and he’d thought I was a freak. Then there’d been this dude in my history class my freshman year at Radford. I’d spent all semester crushing on him and working up the nerve to say more than a handful of sentences to him, only to find out that he was in a committed relationship, baby daughter included.
But I’d never been in love, and oh God, I was so in love with Seth. I wasn’t even sure at what point it happened. The first time he’d shared a piece of himself with me? When he’d talked about his mom? Or was it when he decided to stay and train me? It could’ve been the first night he told me I could use him as a Pillow Pet. It could’ve been the night he told me I was his salvation.
Or when he had finally kissed me.
Now . . . I swallowed hard. Now he wanted nothing to do with me, and the confusion had nothing on the pain eating away at my chest.
Saturday afternoon, Luke had stopped by again. Like the day before, I hadn’t answered the door. I wasn’t ready to face him. Not when I wanted my mother. I wanted my grandmother. I wanted Erin. None of them were here. None of them could be.
I didn’t know if the alternating sharp pulse and echoing hollow feeling in my chest were normal, but I was soul sick. I felt shattered, split in two, and I had no idea how to even begin to piece myself back together.
Rolling onto my back, I blinked open my eyes. It was Sunday evening. I was going to have to pull myself together by tomorrow morning. I couldn’t hide in my room for the rest of my life. I’d need cats or something if I was seriously going to attempt that. And I couldn’t do that even if the Covenant allowed animals onsite. I was important. A demigod.
I needed to finish training, and I needed to be ready when my absentee father showed back up with another demigod. There was so much I had to do, and probably would epically fail at, but I couldn’t hide myself away. Because I was a mother-freaking demigod.
A demigod with a broken heart.
A demigod with a broken heart who couldn’t even become a crazy cat lady, because I didn’t have cats.
“God.” I smacked my hands over my face. The burn was back, behind my eyes, and I wanted to punch myself in the lady parts.
I had to pull myself together. The next breath I took got stuck. Okay, I at least had to pretend to have it together.
A knock interrupted my crappy pep talk. I turned my head toward the living area, but didn’t move more than that. The knock came again and then a voice followed.
“Josie, open the door.”
Deacon.
Curly-haired, silver-eyed, beautiful Deacon. I sighed. He didn’t have a broken heart. He had Luke, who was madly in love with him.
“I have French fries,” he coaxed from the hallway.
Fries? My stomach shifted, reminding me that it did, in fact, want some food. I lowered my hands.
There was a pause. “They’re fresh and that perfect mix of crispiness and softness.”
Oh my, that was the best.
“And I have ranch dressing,” he added. Slowly, I sat up and pushed a few strands of gross hair out of my face. “If you don’t answer this door, I will do something drastic.”
I frowned.
“I can use the fire element, which means I can melt the insides of this lock,” he explained. “And I’m not that great at controlling fire. I’ll probably end up catching the door on fire.”
“Whoa,” I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed.
“And then the fire will spread to the walls and the next thing you know, the whole dorm is burning down. Roof on fire kind of shit and Marcus will get really pissed—”
“Okay!” I shouted, standing. “I’m coming.”
“Good.” Satisfaction practically bloated his voice.
Shuffling to the door, I threw the lock and opened it. True to his word, Deacon stood with a bag in one hand and a bottle of Coke in the other. Eyeing the red and black bottle, I could already feel the wonderful, acidic burn in my throat. The aroma was greasy heaven. As I stepped aside, my gaze flickered over his shoulder and landed on Seth’s door. An ache pierced my chest, stealing my breath.
I wasn’t sure what to think of the nymph, whether he was friend or foe, but in the end, what the nymph had said was mostly true. There was blood on my hands, and there was only retribution and vengeance in my future.
Josie
My face hurt.
So did my head and eyes. Actually, every part of me ached. My head was stuffy and eyes swollen from crying enough tears to fill the stupid room, and my stomach was brutally empty. I’d gone way past the stage of being hungry. It felt like I wouldn’t eat again.
At some point, I’d managed to pull myself off the floor and kick off my sneakers before face-planting my bed. That had turned out to be a major mistake, because the sheets, the pillows?—everything—smelled like Seth. Like the outdoors and the unique scent that reminded me of burning leaves. The tears had really started at that point, and it had been ugly. The big, fat sobs came from a deep place inside of me and they shook my entire body. I’d cried myself asleep, and when I woke up the tears started all over again. For a while, there seemed like there’d be no end in sight.
That had been Friday morning. I’d barely moved from the bed in two days, and my eyes were as dry as the desert. My hair was limp and greasy. Showering seemed like it required way too much effort.
I’d never been in love before.
I’d never had my heart broken by a guy before.
Yes, my heart had been wounded a time or two. There was this guy in high school who I had a pretty big crush on and he’d thought I was a freak. Then there’d been this dude in my history class my freshman year at Radford. I’d spent all semester crushing on him and working up the nerve to say more than a handful of sentences to him, only to find out that he was in a committed relationship, baby daughter included.
But I’d never been in love, and oh God, I was so in love with Seth. I wasn’t even sure at what point it happened. The first time he’d shared a piece of himself with me? When he’d talked about his mom? Or was it when he decided to stay and train me? It could’ve been the first night he told me I could use him as a Pillow Pet. It could’ve been the night he told me I was his salvation.
Or when he had finally kissed me.
Now . . . I swallowed hard. Now he wanted nothing to do with me, and the confusion had nothing on the pain eating away at my chest.
Saturday afternoon, Luke had stopped by again. Like the day before, I hadn’t answered the door. I wasn’t ready to face him. Not when I wanted my mother. I wanted my grandmother. I wanted Erin. None of them were here. None of them could be.
I didn’t know if the alternating sharp pulse and echoing hollow feeling in my chest were normal, but I was soul sick. I felt shattered, split in two, and I had no idea how to even begin to piece myself back together.
Rolling onto my back, I blinked open my eyes. It was Sunday evening. I was going to have to pull myself together by tomorrow morning. I couldn’t hide in my room for the rest of my life. I’d need cats or something if I was seriously going to attempt that. And I couldn’t do that even if the Covenant allowed animals onsite. I was important. A demigod.
I needed to finish training, and I needed to be ready when my absentee father showed back up with another demigod. There was so much I had to do, and probably would epically fail at, but I couldn’t hide myself away. Because I was a mother-freaking demigod.
A demigod with a broken heart.
A demigod with a broken heart who couldn’t even become a crazy cat lady, because I didn’t have cats.
“God.” I smacked my hands over my face. The burn was back, behind my eyes, and I wanted to punch myself in the lady parts.
I had to pull myself together. The next breath I took got stuck. Okay, I at least had to pretend to have it together.
A knock interrupted my crappy pep talk. I turned my head toward the living area, but didn’t move more than that. The knock came again and then a voice followed.
“Josie, open the door.”
Deacon.
Curly-haired, silver-eyed, beautiful Deacon. I sighed. He didn’t have a broken heart. He had Luke, who was madly in love with him.
“I have French fries,” he coaxed from the hallway.
Fries? My stomach shifted, reminding me that it did, in fact, want some food. I lowered my hands.
There was a pause. “They’re fresh and that perfect mix of crispiness and softness.”
Oh my, that was the best.
“And I have ranch dressing,” he added. Slowly, I sat up and pushed a few strands of gross hair out of my face. “If you don’t answer this door, I will do something drastic.”
I frowned.
“I can use the fire element, which means I can melt the insides of this lock,” he explained. “And I’m not that great at controlling fire. I’ll probably end up catching the door on fire.”
“Whoa,” I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed.
“And then the fire will spread to the walls and the next thing you know, the whole dorm is burning down. Roof on fire kind of shit and Marcus will get really pissed—”
“Okay!” I shouted, standing. “I’m coming.”
“Good.” Satisfaction practically bloated his voice.
Shuffling to the door, I threw the lock and opened it. True to his word, Deacon stood with a bag in one hand and a bottle of Coke in the other. Eyeing the red and black bottle, I could already feel the wonderful, acidic burn in my throat. The aroma was greasy heaven. As I stepped aside, my gaze flickered over his shoulder and landed on Seth’s door. An ache pierced my chest, stealing my breath.
