Page 29 of A Touch Of Death

There’s a large bed in the corner, placed at an angle so it faces the window. It's completely bare besides the beautifully intricate frame that I spy at the head and foot of the bed. There’s a door in the wall that the bed is next to, so I assume that’s the closet. A white distressed vertical piano sits just behind the banister to the stairs with a matching bench. The walls are lined with white shelves that host indoor house vines. There are more plants scattered around the room artistically, all in matching white pots. It's absolutely breathtaking. The room is spacious but has a homely feel to it. Although it’s brand new, it also feels like it was always here. Or, as though it was always meant to be here.

I move further up the stairs until I'm standing in the middle of the room, hand over mouth in astonishment. Spencer did an amazing job. Where is he? I need to thank him… profusely.

It's then I hear a faint groan from beside the bed, the side I can't see from where I'm standing. I walk closer to the bed and poke my head around enough to see the space between the bed and wall. On the floor, Spencer sits with his hat-covered head tilted back, eyes closed and perspiration covering his entire face.

"Spencer? Are you okay?" I ask as I move closer to him.

He groans again, and his eyes open slowly. He mumbles something, too quiet for me to hear, so I move closer until I'm kneeling on the floor in front of him. "What was that?"

"Over...Used...Too much..." he strains out.

Understanding dawns on me suddenly, and I curse before moving to sit directly beside him. Without asking, I lift his hand from where it lay limp on the floor and place it in my lap, clutching it tightly in both of mine.

His head lolls to the side, facing me with his gold eyes and sweat-covered features. "You're...glowing."

I give him a soft smile, and say, "Give it a second, and I won't glow anymore. Just rest."

His eyes close slowly, but his hand tightens in mine slightly. I rub my thumb across the back of his hand and then draw on the energy I'd gathered in the clearing. Slowly, I transfer the energy to Spencer, watching both of our hands glow brighter as I offer him some of my stored power.

When I hear him inhale swiftly, my head jerks up to see him watching our hands attentively. His gaze bounces to mine, where they stay until I feel that the energy it took to make this room habitable has now been replenished.

"How do you feel now?" I ask, my voice only just above a whisper.

Spencer looks down at our joined hands and back up again. His widened eyes are filled with appreciation and something that looks a lot like awe. "A lot better. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Did you have much more to do?" I ask, worried he'll overwork himself again. How is it the mage isn't able to use so much power without exhausting himself? What was it Nix said, Spencer hasn't used a lot of power in a while? I don't understand how or why, but maybe Spencer will tell me himself.

"Not much else. Just had to take a break for a minute there," He sends me a sheepish smile.

"Why did you have to take a break at all? If you don't mind me asking, that is." I turn my body to face him, leaning my side on the wall. I keep his hand in mine, slowly siphoning small doses of energy to him. The smile falls, and I already feel guilty for asking. Wishing for the melancholic look on his face to disappear, I tell him, "You don't have to tell me. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have asked."

Instead, I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes, concentrating on the energy I'm offering him. The room is silent while we sit with our hands intertwined, but it's a comfortable silence where neither one of us feels the need to talk to fill the space.

Time drifts by, and the peace and quiet is almost enough to send me to sleep. So, when Spencer speaks up, I flinch and tighten my hands around his before relaxing again. "I try not to use too much power. I've seen what too much can do to someone, and I never want to become that person. Greedy, always looking for more power, never satisfied with what he has. Because of that, if I don't use my power regularly, it weakens. Kind of like a muscle. If you work out a lot, exercise, your muscles grow and strengthen. When you stop, they weaken and deteriorate."

Quietly, I ask, "What makes you think you'll turn into that person for using something that's in your nature to use?"

"Because... Because I've seen it happen to my father. What's to say it won't happen to me?" he answers resentfully. I open my mouth to answer, but he keeps talking before I get a chance to dispute his questioning. "I didn’t have an easy start to life. For the first twelve years of my life, I was raised as a power source by the man who was supposed to love and care for me. My mother died shortly after my first birthday, so it was down to my father to bear the responsibility of caring for a child. Only, it wasn't so much of a burden for him since he only used me, tapping into my powers and pulling on them to add to his own. Twelve years of being drained until I had just enough power to stay alive was all I knew. Loving a man who didn't love me back, thinking what he was doing was some twisted way to show me he loved me and needed me. The first twelve years of my life were the worst until my Paw figured out what was happening

"My Paw was my mom's dad. He wasn't an incredibly powerful mage, but he was one of the good ones. When he saved me from that bastard, I was malnourished and drained too much to be able to replenish my energy or power. My Paw gave up his power to keep me alive. He drained his power until he only had a flicker left to stay alive and gave everything to me to keep me alive. He lost his immortality that day and began to age, becoming barely more than a human with only the ability to flip the newspaper over without using his hands. He sacrificed his power and immortality, so I would have a chance to live. He passed away a year after my twenty-sixth birthday when my immortality kicked in. I haven't seen my father since my Paw took me in, but I know he never stopped looking for more power."

He's quiet for a moment, so I gently ask, "How did your mom pass away?"

"She was drained until she was nothing more than skin and bone. It's never been confirmed who killed my mom, but I'm positive that bastard killed her. My father had been doing the same thing to her as he did with me, only I was always more powerful, so it was easy to withstand the amount he drained from me. I don't doubt he killed her, maybe as a mistake or not, who knows. But it left me in the hands of his greed."

Spencer faces me with a look that breaks my heart in pieces. The gold in his eyes is dimmer than I've ever seen them, and I find myself missing the sparkle they usually hold.

"Spence, I've only known you for a short amount of time, but I know, down to the very marrow of my bones, that you could never turn into your father. Don't you see that? I mean, along with the others, you saved me, took care of me, and have given me a place to live. You went shopping for clothes for me because you and Zayn knew I didn't have anything of my own." I look down and twirl the beautiful ring Zayn gave me, watching the light glint off the polished surface. My head comes back up, and I look into Spencer's eyes with determination. "You've exhausted yourself by using a lot of your power just to create a livable room for me, a complete stranger you didn't know three days ago. I fully believe you aren't capable of doing what your father did. You're not him, Spence. You're one of the good ones too."

He stares at me for a moment longer before releasing a long sigh and looking down at his lap. Instead of pushing the issue, I let my words sink in. I turn back around and lean against the wall. With a bout of courage, I tilt my head as though to rest it against his shoulder. I stop halfway, shake my head, and take off my hat. Once it's on the floor beside me, I carefully rest my head on his shoulder. I can feel him tense under my head, but he quickly relaxes, slowly dropping his head to rest on mine.

A whole flurry of sensations breaks out inside me. The same stirring from when I kissed Nix returns, a little fainter, but there nonetheless. My pulse picks up its pace, and a faint warmth sparks in the centre of my chest, spreading through my body slowly.

I don't realise I've tightened my grip on Spencer's hand until he rests his free hand on top of mine. "Novia, are you okay?"

I nod against his shoulder but don't give him a verbal answer. My focus is on the strange feelings unfurling inside of me. What is happening to me?

"Novia?" Spencer asks, lifting his head away.

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