Goose egg, that’s what.
Pity party. Who brought the confetti?
“Can you beguile cops into deciding they shouldn’t hand out tickets for going outrageously fast?” I asked Charles, not really caring if he could or not.
“Uh…maybe we should head toward the Boss. He seems… I think he wants you to go to him. See how your first class went…”
“My, my, Charles. I had no idea your analytical skills could deduce the obvious. Well done.”
“I don’t like this defiance thing you got going with him. Someone’s going to get hurt, and it’s probably going to be me.”
“I thought you wanted a little excitement.”
“Excitement, Sasha. I didn’t say public execution.”
Stefan kept staring, the pull on my chest trying to drag my body toward him. And there was absolutely nothing in the entire world I wanted more than to let him fold me in his arms and make everything all right; to smooth all this away. But I would just be the human who got special treatment from the Boss—assuming he’d even leave his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend and play nursemaid to a pain in the ass. His help would look like a hand-out if he stooped low enough to give it.
Jesus. Forget a pity party, I was throwing myself a pity bonanza.
“I’m going to get in my car and drive really, really fast. As in danger-ville fast. Can you keep the cops from hauling me to jail?”
“Yeah,” he whined, staring at Stefan.
“Then let’s go for a ride. Speed always makes me feel better.”
A half hour later, the car was screaming down a two-lane road in the wooded area outside the city. Trees flashed by, a blur of shimmering green as the first rays of the sun sprinkled their leaves. I had to admit, I was partially testing Charles’ resolve, trying to see if he could hack it without the jitters. I took turns like the car was on rails, using both lanes of the road when the car got a little squirrely—which was often—dodging other cars when there were any. He’d screamed like a little girl, twice.
“Oooohhhhhh sssshiiiiittt!” Charles clutched the dashboard as my Firebird pitched over the crest of a hill. Tires left the ground for a beat before crashing back down, and jousting us forward.
A manic grin spread over my face. I needed this.
“We should…oh shit…we should…slow down!” Charles braced for a turn, grabbing the handle on his door with a white-knuckled grip.
“C’mon, Charles, I’m not going that fast. I thought you were a tough Watch Captain.”
“I can face my enemies head on with a sword,” Charles said through clenched teeth. “I have no control over dying right now, Sasha. Watch out for that tree!”
The car squealed around the turn, drifting to the other side of the road. Where another car was waiting.
Oh crap!
A punch of adrenaline rocked my body. I let off the gas, easing the car back toward my side of the road as a horn blared. I tucked the wheels back beyond the yellow line as the crawling sensation of a close call permeated my limbs. Warmth took its place, hot and spicy, ready for action.
I let out a huge, silent breath and let the speed dwindle. Not today. I was exhausted.
“Done now?” Charles asked through a tight throat. “Can we go home?”
“Yeah, I think I’m good. That helped.”
“What’s the deal with needing an adrenaline rush?” Charles asked as we headed back. “How can it possibly help anything?”
I shrugged, the warmth in my chest still zinging through my body, smoothing out my nerves. “It thrills me somehow, which then seems to just calm everything down. I get a big high, and then just, kinda…level out. I don't know.”
Charles squinted. “I bet the thrill wakes up the magic, and then it fills you. That’s why you think you level out. You’ve probably learned to use your magic with that intuition thing you’ve talked about. You didn’t have teaching so you learned a rough version of controlling it on your own.”
“Quit analyzing me. My crazy needs no definition.”
A frown joined the thinking squint. “When you try to reach for the magic, nothing comes. When you sprint at death, you apparently access it easily and then save the day. As the mastermind behind this operation, I find it my duty to figure this out.”
“You figuring something out—yeah, that’s going to happen….”
Charles sighed and shook his head. “Sarcasm. How helpful.”
The next day went the same. And, so did the day after. I just couldn’t grab those danged elements. I didn’t even know where to look! I was supposed to open up somehow, see them pulsing out there (no one would identify where there was), and pull them to me. What kind of cockamamie directions were those, anyway? Yeah, sure, just open on up and pull at some imaginary, universal power streams. Good call. I’ll just do that, shall I?