Part 2 (1/2)
Mother's icy eyes narrow and she curls her fingers, once, twice, three times.
The healer makes a strange gargling noise as his fingers tear at his neck. His eyes bulge from their sockets and his face turns red, then purple.
He drops dead at my feet.
3.
My name is Lark Greene and I may have already killed the boy I love.
4.
Hours. Maybe days have pa.s.sed. I don't know anymore.
I can't remember.
”You understand, don't you? Why no one can know about you and Beck?” Mother stands at the end of my bed. Dark half-circles fill the s.p.a.ce under her eyes and fly-away pieces of hair stick out of her normally tidy up-do. Exhaustion has stolen all remnants of the polished Malin Greene I'm used to seeing.
But no matter how troubled Mother appears, I can guarantee I look a hundred times worse. I haven't been able to eat more than a few crackers. My stomach feels like it's in a constant state of distress, prepared to toss back anything I give to it. And I haven't showered or crawled out of bed for two days.
”I understand,” I say, pulling the covers up to my chin. My back and hips ache from lying around all day, but I'm too tired to climb out of bed. To ease the pain in my hip, I roll onto my side. ”You're not going to kill Kyra are you?”
I'm half-joking, but more serious. I haven't seen my friend in days and I'm growing worried, since Kyra knows about Beck and I being bound. And after what Mother did to the healer...
”Don't be ridiculous, Lark. Kyra is a sworn member of your guard, entrusted to keep your secrets. Just as Annalise is.”
Mother tugs the blanket away from my face. ”I don't think you understand the seriousness of your situation, Love. People are already whispering about whether you've been brainwashed. We absolutely do not need them thinking Beck Channing can control you.”
”People or witches?” I say.
”People and Dark witches are the only ones that matter.” Mother picks up her tablet, consults it for a moment and sets it back down. ”So far, I've been able to control the information leaving Summer Hill and no one believes the Light witches' version of events.”
”Because you paraded me on television and made me denounce Beck.”
Mother closes her eyes, inhales, and opens her eyes. ”I'm doing what needs to be done. To protect you. You'd be wise to remember that.”
”Like killing that poor healer.”
Mother bows her head. Her lips move, as if speaking to herself.
I watch her closely, studying the way her hands quiver as she continues her silent chant.
”Is Beck okay?” I whisper. The words leave my mouth before I can stop myself.
Mother startles. Her blue eyes bat rapidly and numbness creeps from my toes to my legs to my torso. Panic races through my mind. Not again. No.
I wiggle my fingers and my blood runs cold. Mother jumps, waving her hand before her as if batting at an annoying gnat. When she smiles at me again, a deep sense of relaxation replaces the panic.
”Why would I know?” The smoothness of her voice is almost convincing, but when she turns toward the window, I notice the tenseness of the muscles in her neck.
”Because you know everything that goes on in the Western Society.”
Mother shakes her head. ”You give me too much credit, Love.”
”Would you tell me if you did?” I challenge.
Mother purses her lips as if carefully considering her words. ”No. I wouldn't. Dwelling on a boy you should have no part of isn't healthy. Trust me, I have experience in this.”
”With my father?”
Mother clenches her jaw and doesn't answer me.
”Why won't you talk about him? You had no problem with it at Summer Hill. Or was that just a ploy to get me to trust you? So that I would believe you were on my side? Was it all just a way for you to start a war with the Light witches, Mother? Henry told me-”
”Enough!”
The chandelier above us explodes into a million tiny slivers of crystal. I duck and cover my head with my arms, preparing for the inevitable pain of gla.s.s piercing my skin.
But there's nothing.
I slowly open my eyes and lift my head. The shards hang suspended in the air, each one reflecting the light of the fireplace and sending a cacophony of color dancing around the room.
Mother stands just to the side of my bed. A red, mottled flush covers her exposed chest and neck. ”Do not push me, Lark. It may appear I'm in control of my emotions, but I a.s.sure you, that is not always the case.”
I open my mouth but she glares at me and I snap it shut. ”You are a Dark witch. It's time you behaved like one.”
With a flick of her hand, the shards of gla.s.s fly back into place and the chandelier looks like new.
My heart seizes. I hold my hand before me. It quivers and shakes, but unlike in the past, my magic remains trapped inside me. The restraint somehow prevents me from using it.
”This isn't fair,” I scream, sitting up. ”This isn't what was supposed to happen. Beck was supposed to be safe and you were going to teach me how to use magic.”
”Beck was supposed to be safe? From who? Me? You?” Mother paces along the edge of the bed, her fingers twirling her long necklace. ”His own people? Who was he supposed to be safe from?”
I bang my balled fists against the bed. ”Me.”
Agitation simmers in her voice. ”Perhaps it's better if you don't know where he is.”
Her words are like a slap to my face. Because as much as I don't want to admit it, if Beck is alive, there's a good chance he's hiding. From me.
Because he understands I'm a threat.
And I have no idea what I can do to him. Set him on fire, like Mother's done to me? Melt his flesh from his bones? Choke the air from his lungs like the poor healer? Freeze his eyeb.a.l.l.s? What?