Mom dropped into Dad’s oversized office chair behind his desk and slumped down into it. Her pale pink braids had loosened, stray hairs standing askew. Her usual warm eyes held the harrowing tale within them, her face ashen as she wiped her palms down her face. “What the hell was that, Slate?” she said at last. “What aren’t you telling us?”
I shook my head. “It was just a hunch,” I mumbled, hating that I had to lie to her.
“Don’t lie to me. What was that necklace?” she pushed.
I shrugged a shoulder, deciding to remain silent. Glancing at the couch behind me, I observed the princess as she slipped into a restful slumber, my heart constricting from her suffering. My urge to protect her from all pain, emotional and physical, was on another level. I couldn’t share her secret—a secret she didn’t even know she had. Not even to my sweet mother.
Mom sighed and shook her head. “What have you and Chrome done?”
Chapter 11
Slate
Two hours passed before the princess began to stir. Mom had left me to watch after Gray while she disappeared to cook dinner. I imagined she had a lot to process and mull over. I didn’t doubt she had theories—theories I hoped she wouldn’t get right.
A small whimper escaped from the princess, who hadn’t so much as flinched on the couch. I jolted, sitting up, watching her in the hopes that she was waking at last. Like before, a groan came from her as she scrunched her forehead. She didn’t seem to be in pain this time—rather she seemed uncomfortable.
Gods, she was so adorable when she made that face.
I guessed her magic was depleted from her body’s attempt to heal her. Based on my own experiences from redfern poisoning, it always left the Kinetic drained. Living in a modern world in the center of a busy city, we had tons of energy to draw from when we felt depleted. It was never an issue to replenish our magic. Energy sharing wasn’t common among Kinetics unless it was adire situation. Seeing the princess in this state, I considered it a dire situation.
I scooted closer to the edge of the couch and took both of her hands in mine, focusing on my well of power. Light magic wasn’t considered a powerful form of energy, often being dismissed by others as a weaker form since it wasn’t strong offensively. It didn’t mean my power wasn’t strong, though. I worked hard to wield it in unconventional ways to catch my opponents off-guard.
Princess Gray’s hands were so tiny in my palms. I squeezed them. On the chance that she was awake but was too depleted to move or speak, I said softly, “You’re safe, Princess. It’s Slate, and I’m going to share my energy with you, okay?”
The barest of whimpers escaped her, and I took that as a sign that she was indeed awake. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the depths of my magic within me. I felt for the vibrations throughout my body, ready to transfer them to the princess, and directed my bright and warm light energy through the contact of our hands, hoping it filled her with comfort and a sense of safety. More than anything, I hoped it would chase away the darkness that plagued her.
Several minutes passed while I felt my energy draining. As more and more left my body, I focused on the sunshine streaming through the windows and absorbed it into my own body as she took what stores I had. The bright light of my magic embraced our hands. As she depleted me, I drained the afternoon’s rays until the office was shrouded in shadows.
At last, Gray’s eyelids fluttered open, gracing me with stormy blue eyes that stared back at me, dull and hollow.
I gazed at the broken princess. Neither of us spoke as my emotions twisted and choked me.
Finally, I broke the quiet. “You’re here.”
Princess Gray dropped her gaze. “Yeah.”
“Why’d you do it?” I whispered.
She snapped her gaze to me. “Do what?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
I leveled her with a knowing look. “You know what. The redfern. Why did you take it?”
“How’d you know?” she breathed.
I shrugged. “Someone around this place knows some things.”
Fear crept into her eyes as they rounded, and she tried to sit up with a sharp inhale. She swayed back and forth, her gaze becoming unfocused.
“Easy,” I coaxed, reaching for her shoulders and easing her back down onto the sofa.
“Who?” she weakly demanded, staring up at the ceiling.
“It’s not important right now,” I said. “I’m just glad I got to you when I did.”
“I wish you wouldn’t have.”
That protective surge returned, squeezing my heart. “Why? Is this because of that twisted shitshow the other day?”
