Page 26 of Wings of Lies
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded. He was going to attract all the attention in the world with his noise.
His emerald eyes flashed. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit! You were just fine before the café. Then afterward, you became this tantrum-throwing child, taking out your frustration on the bushes and rocks, almost whipping me in the face with a branch.”
He stepped closer. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
A pressure pushed behind my eyes. “You do if you want my help.” That same itch returned to my skin. Glancing down, I narrowed my eyes at my arms.
There were no flames, and my jacket sleeves remained intact. Yet, the itch relentlessly assaulted my skin, and my anger was the common denominator in each instance.
My head tilted back up to meet his sharp eyes. We stared at each other in a battle of wills. If he didn’t back up soon, I feared this itchy anger would shift to itchy fingers. Already, I tensed my arms to keep them by my sides. His face paled.
“What?” The satisfaction of making him fear me crept into my voice. Even my lips couldn’t contain the tilt of my smirk.
“Your—”
A branch snapped behind us.
“We’re not alone.”
Chapter
Eight
Istilled. Ominous clouds billowed in, obscuring the blue sky. The air crackled with charged energy, thick with the acrid scent of burnt ozone, silencing the chirping birds. We both searched between the trees.
A gust of wind barreled through the trees and knocked into us. Stumbling, I latched onto Oliver’s arm. Leaves and dirt whipped around in a chaotic storm, stinging my face with the force of the wind.
“What’s going on?” I asked as he righted me.
“Elementals.” Oliver’s hair was in disarray, more so than usual. His black streak moved and blended with his blonde strands.
“What do you mean?”
Thunder boomed nearby.
Oliver grabbed my shoulders. “I mean, we need to get the hell out of here! Can you run like you did before?” The urgency of his voice told me he didn’t mean regular running. We needed to go fast. Unnaturally fast.
“I can try.”
A pressure built underneath my skin, similar to the sensations from my first attempt at lusceler, yet this time without the accompanying itch. The pressure edged toward agony as if a million needles fought to break free from my body.
Lightning flashed, hitting a tree in the distance and sending a jolt through me straight to the millions of needles. They stabbed through my hands, and brilliant white fire erupted.
I stared at them in dread. “Again? That’s not?—”
Another boom echoed through the air, even closer. The white flames on my hands spiked.
“Lucy! Can you do it, or should I carry you?” Oliver grabbed my shoulders, shaking me.
I whipped my flaming hands out to the sides.
Oliver shook me again. “Lucy! Do I need to carry you?” He yelled over the forceful wind.
“No! I can do this!”
Lightning continued to flash, hitting trees and coming closer.
