“Wouldn’t more power work better?”
“It’s not how much you have but how well you wield it. You’re flooding yourself with everything you’ve got and your body doesn’t know how to deal with it.” He broke off a piece of the cheese and ate it, his sharp teeth making short work of the hard surface.
Anything was worth a shot at this point. I hadn’t shown progress in my healing ability in months.
I made another cut and set the knife down. Staring at the wound, I imagined the spidery pathways. Every attempt to pull any of my power from the source failed to take ahold.
“You’re trying too hard,” the pixie said. “Relax.”
I gave him a look. That was the most unhelpful advice he could have given me. How could I relax yet pull the power to me?
When I was in high school a friend had been into tai chi and meditation. I’d thought it was a waste of time before I tried it. Meditation had never really caught hold with me, I found it impossible to think of nothing while sitting still, but tai chi was different.
I could let the flow of the movements distract me from my thoughts. It was like being part of a river where one form just flowed into the next, until you found yourself moving with little conscious direction on your part. Your body taking advantage of muscle memory as your mind let go.
It never worked when I struggled to capture that mindset though. It had to come naturally, my mind sinking into that mode with little effort on my part.
Instead of thinking, I watched as the power circled in a clockwise motion through my body.
Slowly, like a spider seeking a new anchor point for its web, a thin tendril reached out and a cool sensation washed over my arm, right before the skin around the wound began itching again.
“Not the fastest healing time, but better than before,” the pixie said. His wings flared and he leapt into the air before buzzing off with his spoils.
I touched the skin. It was smooth and, besides a ravenous hole in the pit of my stomach, I felt fine. None of the wooziness that characterized my prior attempts.
Still wouldn’t be much help in a battle, but it was progress.
I grabbed the wine bottle and poured myself a glass of the red liquid before pulling up a movie on the instant streaming service.
At this point there wasn’t much to do, the city was sleeping and I’d already laid all my plans. Now the only thing to do was wait and hope that something came of all my hard work tomorrow. I had a feeling I was running out of time. Tomorrow would be the night when things happened. Good or bad.
Chapter Fifteen
The ringing of my cell phone woke me from a weird dream of a shirtless Liam featuring a few interesting tattoos and a wicked grin that just begged me to let go of my dream inhibitions.
It took me a moment to remember where I was and to identify the annoying music blaring right next to me. The phone went quiet, the music stopping. I closed my eyes. Good, maybe I could get back to that dream.
The music started again.
I sat up on the couch, knocking the book off the coffee table as I groped for my cell.
“Crap.”
My fumbling hands knocked the phone away, and I had to extend my reach. In that weird logic that makes perfect sense when you just wake up but your brain hasn’t caught up entirely, it made sense to prop my shoulders on the coffee table while keeping the lower half of my body on the couch. This resulted in an awkward flailing that ended with me bumping my elbow hard on the corner of the table.
After way more effort than it should have taken, I grabbed the phone and rolled back onto the couch, managing to leave another bruise on my ribs in doing so.
“Hello,” I croaked.
“Where the hell have you been?” Caroline snapped. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”
I sat up, biting back a groan as muscles protested my choice of beds. I thought being a vampire meant I wouldn’t have problems such as achy muscles anymore.
I twitched the curtains aside, blinking rapidly like a mole suddenly confronted by the light. The sun was still up. Not by much. Judging by the red tinge, it was in the process of setting.
I glanced at the clock on my DVR. 7:35. Full sunset wasn’t for another thirty minutes at least.
“Aileen, are you still there?”
