Page 82 of Discovered Magic
She picked up her bracelet using another sheet, wiped it down, and stuffed it in her pocket. Fingers crossed, no one would notice it missing from her wrist. As she was about to open the door, she hesitated.
Hope fluttered in her chest. Did the absence of a shackle mean she could now teleport out of here? Possibly back to Wilder?
Abbie racked her brain, trying to recall what he’d once said about the process. How something called a “feeler” was sent out to places one had been or had a very clear image of, so the person jumping from one location to the next didn’t embed themselves into an object or, God forbid, someone else.
The imagery gave her a shudder.
Dare she try? What if, by using her untried magic, she caused another death? For certain, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.
A knock on the door caused her to yelp.
“You all right in there, Fire Cat?”
“Yes. Sorry, you scared me.” Dare she make up an excuse? “Breakfast didn’t sit well. I’ll be another minute.”
His choked “sure thing” did little to hide his amusement. No matter how old a guy was, he possessed the humor of a twelve-year-old boy. But it bought her a few more minutes to think through her escape. She hadn’t outright asked him to return her to Perdition Ridge, but then again, if he were wanted, he wouldn’t get within ten feet of an excellent lawman like Jonas.
But what if she could convince him that the others could help them return to their old lives? Would he want to go? Why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t as if living here in the Wild West was as great as Hollywood made it seem. No, the place was basic and barbaric, with no benefits she could think of.
And why did she care so much about Royal’s plight when her own life hung in the balance? Her soft heart would get her dead in this land of guns and grudges, a place that chewed up the tenderhearted and spat out their bones. Look what happened to sweet Gus!
From here on out, she’d only worry about herself. Her next order of business was teleportation and learning what firing up her power required. It lived in the nucleus of the cell, she’d been told. As she dug deep, she absently tapped her thigh, hoping to recall the scraps of science. Not that she’d ever been a great student, but she had a decent grasp of the basics.
A faint warmth spread beneath her palm. She frowned, glancing down, and realized her fingers rested over the bullet wound. The heat pulsed once, twice, then vanished—taking the pain with it.
Royal knocked again, and his tone was harder when he said, “Abbie, wrap it up. Silas is calling a meeting.”
“One sec!” Dammit! She’d pushed the excuse as long as plausible, but maybe she could take another “bathroom break” soon and try her abilities then.
She pushed open the door.
Royal’s expression held concern mixed with suspicion, and he was right to question her behavior.
As they were heading back to the cabin, she asked, “Will you return me to Perdition Ridge?”
“No.”
She stopped. “Why?”
He retraced his steps, and for the longest minute, he said nothing. Finally, he grimaced.
“Silas and I don’t split up. Ever. Taking you back means he has to go with us, and he won’t.”
“Please, Royal. I have to get back to Wilder.” She pressed a hand to his heart, hoping to appeal to his softer side. “Please. It’s been two years, and we’ve only just found each other again.”
“I’m not immune to your plight, Fire Cat.”
“But you won’t help,” she said flatly.
“If the opportunity presents itself, perhaps. That’s the best I could do.”
He’d already told her he was nobody’s hero. Certainly not when it came down to either Silas or her. He barely knew her, and he wouldn’t sacrifice his brotherly relationship for a stranger.
“Let’s go.” He gripped her elbow, hurrying her along.
She was mounting the steps to the porch when it registered she was moving too freely. Did it mean she’d miraculously healed? Would it raise Silas’s suspicions if she didn’t limp?
Probably.
