A few pages later, she found the section on power control and was ready to dedicate a couple of days to each page under it.
“Find the source of power within your body. This is different for every Witch, and one can find it in the head, heart, core, or maybe someplace else in the body. Once identified, draw from it…” Allie muttered to herself, but stopped when she realized there was no point in going forward.
She had to find the source of the power in her body.
All right.
She could do that.
Allie closed the book and pushed it far enough away to make sure it wouldn’t become collateral damage. She scooted closer to the river, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
The power in my body. The power in my body. The power in my body.
Allie mentally scanned herself from head to toe, searching for…something. For the way this source of power would feel inside her. Hot, probably.
But she felt nothing.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried harder. Head, heart, core. Arms. Legs. Even toes. Eyebrows?
Nothing.
Allie tried and tried until she felt a headache coming on after looking for something she didn’t know how to find. Why didn’t the freaking book tell her exactly how to find this power source? It was mentioned as if it was a piece of cake, something that was probably innate for other Witches.
Not for her.
She growled and got to her feet, seeking revenge on the book, and angled it toward the river. Ugh. She would need the damn thing again.
“Fine. Keep your secrets.” She dropped it and scowled at the inanimate object, wondering if there was any spark of life hidden in it after Mia had sold it to her. Allie stuck her tongue out at the book in case there was.
A rustling sound halted her frustration, her senses perking up, ears straining to listen. It came from the opposite side of the path that led her here, and Allie concluded this was enough for her first day of solo practice. She snatched the traitorous book from the ground, tucked it under her arm, and dashed through the tall sycamores that she’d come through.
If she was in full control of her power, she would not have run away. But in her current state, she didn’t want to risk anyone, or anything, finding her alone in the middle of the woods. Allie raced back to the main road, lit up by the firefly soldiers, and only then did she pace herself. She looked back every three steps to make sure she was alone until she reached the left turn onto Maple Street.
And knocked into someone in the middle of it.
“I’m so sorry,” she babbled, pressing the book to her chest over her galloping heart. She took in the tall man who stood there, hands in his pockets, not a bother in the world. The nearby lampposts shed eerie light over his sharp features and sandy blond hair. Something about him reminded her of Sam.
“Is everything all right?” he asked in a grave voice that sounded like soft thunder. A wickedness shone in his eyes, and Allie quickly Read him to confirm the malevolent intent that hung around him like an obscure coat. This would have been a great moment to have her broom and fly far, far away.
“Yeah. Sorry for running into you,” Allie said and walked around him. She took two steps away from him before he spoke again.
“Are you lost?”
“I’m all right!” she shouted and sped up.
Fortunately, the man didn’t follow her, and when she worked up the courage to look back, Allie saw his retreating form. Maybe she was a bit paranoid, and that little bit of magic she controlled with Reading people was off. She should consider that, given howoffeverything else about her magic was.
Allie made it back to the bakery in record time.
The lights were off inside when she arrived, but the first-floor windows were lit up. She slipped quietly into her room, tossed the book on the kitchen counter, and plopped down onto one of the bar stools. The disappointment of her first practice day settled in, and she allowed herself a minute of wallowing. A minute of wondering why she was the way she was, why her sisters didn’t help her, why her mother had left her alone, and why in the world she had wasted three years of her life with an idiot like Sam.
Allie shook off all the negative feelings, sighing loudly and pushing them out with the air. It was a coping mechanism hermom had shared when Allie was a young teen, and everything in the world was always wrong, hard, and against her. Not unlike now.
She fixed herself a bowl of warm soup, showered, and slipped under the covers with no book tonight.
Tomorrow will be better.
Dom woke up that morning with a pain in his shoulder, preventing him from lifting his arm. He hissed while pulling a white T-shirt over his head and swore through his teeth when he wasn’t able to gather his hair into a bun. Jeans had been fun to put on, too.
