Page 22 of Absolved In Death

Desmond’s words slapped me across the face, reminding me of how far I still had to go. The task of mastering my power in such a small amount of time seemed impossible.

A zinging ball of power grazed my biceps, leaving a burn that was already starting to heal up. Q raised a brow at me. “You should have blocked such an easy shot. Where did you go just then?” he asked, pointing to my head.

“I feel like I’ll never master any of this, no matter how much training I get…” I admitted.

“You’re better than self-doubt. Your boyfriend—the rudest one by the way—says some dumb shit, and all of a sudden youforget how you won over the evil jailer and broke your crew out of Pit 13? And how you timehopped us home after fighting some dinosaurs?”

“Well, no. I remember that.” It was one of the most thrilling, scariest experiences of my life. “I thought I’d become a buy one get one free meal for a T-rex.”

“Mal told me you almost killed Red before your powers were fully unbound? Is that true?”

“Yes, we thought I had died.” It dawned on me how often I ended up in dangerous situations.

“But you didn’t. Ares told me you cracked Damon like a fucking walnut using Judas’ power, and channeled Bain’s power in a battle.”

“Yeah?” I wondered where he planned on taking this.

“You’re twenty three years old, practically a baby. You just stopped shitting your pants and barely know how to walk, but you’ve already done so much in less than a year,” he teased me. I stifled a laugh at how much he sounded like an old man. “It took almost an entire century for me toalmostmaster my magic, and I wasn’t at your level when I finally did. Instead of focusing on how far you need to go, recognize how far you’ve come.”

I wouldn’t admit it, but he was right. Focusing on how far I’ve come would be more productive than whining about how far I still had to go.

“No need to say it. My Fae wisdom is always right,” he smirked. “I’m a genius.”

I threw a fire lasso, looping it right over him and pulling to wipe the gloating expression from his face. He ripped the lasso out of my hand and molded it into a mega ball. Lobbing it into the air, he blasted it, making little chunks of fire rain down on me. I shielded myself from it, then levitated him in the air and slammed him back down. We sparred, exchanging blows back and forth while Q made suggestions on how I could improve. Hetaught me how to make my magic more intense, so it had the heavy, all encompassing feeling his often did.

Every maneuver and new spell I practiced was another tool in my arsenal. As the minutes ticked by, my self doubt evaporated. Q levitated me three feet off the ground as he shut down my magic. My hands were bound, and it seemed he finally had me in a checkmate.

“How do you plan on getting out of this?” he asked, lifting me another foot off the ground. “You can’t use your hands to wield.”

I called upon my magic, willing it to strike my PA, but nothing happened. I kept trying to wield my magic nonverbally, but despite my lessons with Lucifer nothing happened. My magic built up inside me, ready to go, and I couldn’t deploy it without using my hands as a channel. My heart beat too fast. With every second I was trapped, my throat became thick with anxiety.

“Blink twice if you need a break. It’s okay to tap out, Diana,” he reminded me.

I wracked my brain for a solution, refusing to quit. The very thought of giving up was repulsive to me. Tapping out wasn’t an option in battle—it was kill or be killed.

Think! I can’t focus enough to cast spells nonverbally, so I have to manipulate him to release me…or I can manipulate the bindings around my wrists…

I closed my eyes, and tapped into my magic. All I had to do was scrounge up enough of it to make my wrists a little bit smaller, so the magical bindings loosened. When they did, I started to wriggle my wrists, until they slid off. I willed myself to lower to the ground, then put my hands up and cast a crackling fire ball. I turned it into a net, tackling him to the floor.

“Do you submit to my fiery fishnet?” I cackled.

“Who taught you how to do this?” he asked me. “This is totally something a pyro-obsessed, crazy pirate would come up with.”

“Argh!” I screamed, morphing into the kind of parrot that sat on a pirate’s shoulder in the old movies. I flew around the room, squawking just for the fun of it. I rarely felt like I let loose anymore or had fun. The feeling of the air in my feathers was just what I needed after a long day of training.

Footsteps from the back of the room caught my attention. Desmond and Zaz stood over Quelier, marveling at the way I weaved pure fire into a net. Zaz seemed impressed, whereas Desmond just seemed…unsettled. I didn’t even have his power to emotionally manipulate others, but I felt his disappointment and jealousy from where I soared near the vaulted ceiling.

I landed, remembering to morph my feathers back into my clothes. The last thing I needed was him critiquing my form right now.

Zaz gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “How was training?”

“Amazing, Quelier showed me some new spells, and I got to practice some magical combat maneuvers.” He seemed happy with my answers, the complete opposite vibe of Desmond’s displeased frown.

“So you sparred with him, without supervision?” he asked, pointing at Q. “He could have seriously hurt you! Or worse!”

Desmond’s finger turned into a New Years Eve party horn. Quelier took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, it flared out, then made a funny trumpeting noise. I had to stifle a laugh at how ridiculous it was.

“Good theory, but the laws of Fae deals prohibit me from harming or backstabbing someone I’m in an active deal with…so I can’t hurt or do worse to my new bestie, not that I’d even think of doing such a thing. But I can hurt you if you keep poking me,ya horny devil. See what I did there?” Q laughed as he pointed at Desmond’s horns. They popped out so fast I missed it.

---