Page 68 of Tangled Power
She glanced again at Juliette. Thinking it might be a goodwill gesture, Rose tested her control. She felt the elements tightening around each other as she sought to steer them. Pushing the stream slightly to the left and back to the right, she turned again to Juliette to ensure she was watching.
Juliette rolled her eyes at Rose’s blatant display and stepped forward with the others. The smell of sage and citrus strengthened as she felt the door inside her burst open. The wind rushed through her, but it was moving too fast. Instead of uniting with the others, the wind struck through the center and broke them apart to make room for itself.
Even with the control she displayed, Rose couldn’t hold all four elements together with the force of Juliette’s wind. The streams diverged, and the Compass Points pulled back their powers.
“What was that, Juliette?” Carter turned to her, his hands rising to his hips.
Juliette’s eyes were wide. That at least told Rose that whatever had happened wasn’t intentional.
“Leave it, Carter,” Rose said. If Juliette hadn’t been in control of that, the last thing they needed to do was verbally attack her while her emotions were already heightened.
“No.” Juliette shook her head. “No, it’s his right to ask,” she acknowledged. “I don’t know, Carter. I think I lost control.” Her gaze darted quickly to Luc.
“Don’t look at me,” Luc said, raising his hands in defense.
“I’m not blaming you,” Juliette said, surprising herself. “What did it feel like when Rose reached for too much of your magic?”
“But I didn’t—” Rose started.
“No, Rose, I’m not blaming you either,” Juliette straightened, trying again to explain herself. “I am just wondering what it feels like to have lost control of too much power in this situation. Luc, you’re the only one I know that’s experienced it.”
Luc’s shoulders slumped a little, but Rose saw him recognize the value in the question. Juliette was asking for him to explain some part of his magic. She was willing to listen, and Luc seemed resolved to answer, no matter how challenging the answer might be.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Frustrated as he was by Juliette’s constant distrust, he would be a fool to pass up this opportunity. The only real question was, how did he explain losing control? The Compass Points knew of his childhood. Juliette never let him entirely forget it. They knew he could lose control, volcanically, earth-shatteringly, but they also knew of the leash he kept on his powers.
He looked at Rose, and his magic strained toward her, even as he thought about the iron grip under which he held it. She was the one person he’d lost control in front of twice in almost as many weeks, and she still hadn’t feared him. Didn’t fear him. By all counts, she found his lapse somehow endearing. He shook his head. It didn’t have to make sense to him. He just had to accept it.
Juliette was another matter. Juliette would publicly flog him for any perceived wrongdoing. Juliette would believe the worst in him until there was no other option but to deem him not horrible. What could he even say to her to illustrate what she’d likely experienced?
“You know what? Forget it—” Juliette started.
“Wait.” He held up a hand. “I’m trying to think of an answer. You must realize it’s not an easy thing to describe.”
That paused Juliette’s retreat. She waited, arms folded over her chest.
“Did you call your magic any differently than you normally do?” Luc asked.
Juliette shook her head. “I called it the same, but its response was quite different.”
“Were you”—his gaze locked on hers—“angry when you called it?”
She seemed to consider this. “No, but I will acknowledge other uncomfortable feelings.”
Luc felt that response in his bones. It was never a single feeling that could be easily identified but a collection of emotions that built up to discomfort. Luc thought of the memory he’d shared with Rose. Thinking his brother was missing, seeing his brother held against his will—no matter how much he tried to convince himself that Aaron wasn’t in danger—a collection of emotions shook through his body the same way he shook the earth. How could he ask Juliette to name just one? “Understood,” he said. “Let’s focus on that.”
Juliette nodded cautiously. Rose had moved closer to his side. Her stance was unsure, like she knew he spoke of something difficult for him, but she wouldn’t interrupt this time between him and Juliette by reaching out and taking his hand. Her hand stretched toward his in some internal struggle, then fell to her side as she cocked her hip toward him, getting as close as she could without interrupting—wanting him to know she was within reach.
He couldn’t catch his breath as he unraveled the thought. He had someone who cared about him beyond his brother now—Rose cared for him—deeply enough to stand with him against the other Compass Points. Did Juliette have the same? Herbody language told him any further questions about herself, her magic, or her life, would be unwelcome. He would have to share something of himself and hope she made the connection.
“I remember one of my big explosions as a kid. It was never just one thing. It was a single drop of water that made a cup overflow. The kids at our village school picked on my brother, telling him his dad was a pushover, that my mom was unfaithful. Then, when I came to defend him, they told him I was an abomination and that standing too close to me would contaminate him.” Luc wiped his hand down his face. He hated thinking about these stupid memories—the idiotic things children said.
“It wasn’t just that I was mad at them for saying these things or confused about why Aaron was still standing there, listening. I wasn’t even worried that some of it might be true. It was the utter lack of control over the situation. Nothing I could do or say would change those kids’ minds. And the worst part was what they were saying had absolutely no impact on their lives. Our parents’ relationship didn’t mean anything to them. My unnaturalness wasn’t their problem.”
Luc stopped, though he had just been warming up to his rant. Rose’s hand had slipped into his, somewhere around “unnatural.” He looked down at their linked fingers, and his magic thrummed through his body. Unsurprisingly, Juliette’s focus was also on Rose when he looked back up.
“I’m sorry,” Rose said, not letting go. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
