Part 4 (1/2)

”I can't be bound, you know that.” Once a witch is bound, the only way to undo it is by death. If Mother doesn't see this as a problem, it means one thing: she knows Beck is dead. My legs wobble and I grasp the edge of the table for support.

”I'll ask you again. What would you like to do about that?”

I frown. What is she asking me? If I want to be bound to someone else? What does that mean? I can't be bound to anyone else as long as Beck's alive. Which means...is she asking if I want him dead?

My heart flutters. This is the first hint she's given that he may be okay. I clench my jaw and smash my lips together in hope that I don't give away my emotions.

Tiny pulses of ice pummel my body as Mother targets her magic at me. It creeps along the edge of my arms, over my chest and toward my heart. In response, my pulse accelerates.

”What are you doing?” I ask, stepping back from her.

Mother raises her eyebrows and sighs. ”Helping you remember who you are.”

I bite my lower lip. Something isn't right about this.

”Mother, I know who I am.”Another wave of magic hits me in the chest, knocking me off balance and my unease turns to fear. Once I regain my footing, I scramble to the far end of the table, but I don't take my eyes off my Mother.

She waits at the other end, one hand on her hip, her headed c.o.c.ked to the side. ”Hold out your arm.”

Tension rolls through me. ”Why?”

”Lark, do not disobey me.”

The hard edge of her words sends my heart into overdrive, but I'm more afraid of what she'll do if I don't listen. I lift my trembling arm.

”The other one.”

I raise my left arm slowly, holding it before me. The restraint falls to the ground.

Mother smiles. ”That's better.”

I blink. ”Thank you.”

”Hands up.” Mother paces between the table and the wall.

This can't be good. Vomit sits in the back of my throat, but I lift my hands so that they're chest height and hold my breath.

The air around Mother vibrates with magic, and even though it does me no good, I imagine a wall between us. Magic rips through the room, electric and crackling.

I jump back, but I keep my hands up. The pulses radiating from Mother slam into something invisible and explode before me. But they don't touch me.

I quickly inspect my body, making sure I have all my parts, and see slivers of ice lying at my feet.

”Well done, Love.” Mother grins, s.h.i.+fting her weight back and forth between the b.a.l.l.s of feet and her heels. She flings both her arms toward me with fingers splayed. ”Deflect.”

A suffocating gust of hot air envelops me.

I spin, drawing the heat closer to me just as I remember Eloise doing with the moonlight. A soft orange glow surrounds me and my body quivers as I struggle to keep whatever I've done from exploding from my fingertips.

”The way you move is breathtaking,” Mother says from her position across the room. ”Such innate ability. One can't learn these things.”

A smirk spreads across my face. Little does she know. ”Eloise taught me,” I say as I ball my fists, waiting for whatever is coming next.

”Eloise?” Mother's voice has a hint of disbelief, as if what I've said is impossible.

”Yes. Do you know her?” I haven't forgotten the way Mother forced the healer to skip Eloise's information during my session. At the time, I didn't think much of it, but her reaction now piques my curiosity.

Mother taps her finger against her lips. ”Only by reputation.”

The heat inside me pounds against my chest and, no longer able to contain it, I unfurl my fingers. The small gesture sends me flying backwards into the wall and I land in a heap on the floor. Across the room, Mother is sprawled in an undignified manner, her dress bunched over her hips and her arms outstretched.

I jump to my feet. ”Mother?” I cry. ”Are you all right?” She doesn't move. I sprint across the room and skid to a stop next to her limp body. What if she's injured? Or worse-what if I killed her?

”Mother,” I say, shaking her. ”Wake up.”

When she doesn't respond, I press her wristlet only to find myself immobilized. Mother suddenly stands, rearranges her clothes, and pats her hair.

”Oh Lark, you are a quick learner, aren't you?” Mother says. Her eyes twinkle in delight giving her a slightly manic look. When she grins like this, all teeth and eye crinkles, she reminds me of Kyra when she's about to do something spectacularly terrible. ”But you're too sentimental. Too trusting.”

An invisible vice squeezes me softly and my eyes grow wide.

”This is what happens when you let your defenses down: you lose.”

My voice is locked in my paralyzed body, like when she had Dawson set me on fire. The pressure increases substantially and the room blinks and fades out around me.

”Make me stop,” Mother says calmly.

My arms stay pinned to my sides despite my efforts.

”Are you even trying? I'll get it started for you.” Mother rocks back on her heels faster until I sense a weakening in the force around me. When she turns her head, the vibrations of her magic wash over me. Deep inside me, my magic trembles, trying to break free.

Wind and rain whip through the room, but Mother keeps smiling at me like a lunatic. ”That's right. Feel the magic. Let it grow stronger inside you.”

My pulse hammers in my ears as rage engulfs me. My body struggles beneath the power of her magic. Sweat drips down my forehead and off the tip of my nose, but I don't break concentration.

And then the hold she has on me vanishes. I slump to the ground, exhausted.

With a sigh, Mother pats me on the head. ”That's enough for today.”

Whatever spell she used against me is gone and I bristle at her touch. ”Don't touch me.”

”I'm sorry, Love, but I had to see how your magic worked. How you do it.”

I grind my teeth. She did all this to see what I can do? Fury oozes from my words. ”I don't know how I do it.”

”You may not, but I do.”