She’d gone out of her way in an attempt to help him. She hadn’t wanted to fail him, but he resisted her efforts at every turn, assuming in his arrogance that she would pass him regardless of his efforts—or lack thereof. Perhaps he thought his parents’ wealth and social standing would allow him to glide through school and life.
When she looked up, her blood froze, because he was not alone. Two boys she assumed were his friends were with him and looked every bit as pissed as Derek. Were they crazy? Attacking a woman in broad daylight on a busy street in front of a school?
She glanced desperately around, looking for any source of help.
A kick to her side propelled her over onto her back, her purse now underneath her back as she gasped for breath.
What she saw when she looked up and met the furious gaze of Derek Cambridge chilled her to the bone.
This wasn’t merely him roughing her up and blowing off some steam and rage. She saw death in his eyes. Her death. And his friends made no move to intervene on her behalf. They both wore smirks as if they firmly believed she was getting precisely what she deserved.
A flash of metal glinted in the sunlight. A knife.
Derek held it tightly in his fist, the blade pointed downward and she knew—she knew—he was going to kill her right there.
Though her powers had long lain dormant, though she had made a practice of suppressing them at all costs, they came roaring back, self-preservation overtaking all else.
It was instinctual. She didn’t even have to force herself to concentrate. A cascade of stones suddenly pelted her attacker, sending him reeling backward, one hand covering his face protectively while the other hand still gripped the knife.
The wind kicked up in a fierce surge that rivaled a tropical storm. Now that there was adequate space between her and the teenager holding the knife, she searched the area for any possible weapon to use against him.
She glanced upward at the tree that lined one part of the sidewalk. A heavy branch cracked, the pop like a gunshot, and then propelled itself directly at the trio who posed a threat to her.
“What the fuck is going on, man?” one of Derek’s friends shouted.
Ari didn’t recognize the other two kids. She was ninety-nine percent certain they didn’t attend school here because attendance wasn’t as high as the public schools, and she was well acquainted with the faces and most of the names of the students who attended Grover Academy.
“Get the little bitch and hold her down so I can gut her like the pig she is,” Derek snarled.
She’d done some damage. Blood was dripping from Derek’s nose, and he didn’t bother to wipe it away. His eyes glittered wildly, and Ari realized that, not only was he enraged over the failing grade he’d received, but he was also high as a kite on God only knew what.
This shit was about to get real.
She scrambled upward, using their momentary hesitation to her advantage. She needed leverage. She needed to be able to see what resources were available to her.
The brick planters that lined the front of the school where neatly trimmed hedges grew began to shake and tremble as though an earthquake was occurring. The boys felt it too, because unease spread rapidly over the two friends’ faces. Derek was too hyped up on whatever drug he was on to notice anything but his determination to make her pay.
The bricks shook loose, falling one by one from their neat formation. And then one flew through the air, striking Derek in the back of the head.
He dropped like a stone, the knife falling from his hand and clattering on the pavement.
The two friends watched in stupefaction as more bricks hovered in the air, spinning and changing direction when the kids took several steps back.
“Holy shit!” one of them exclaimed. “She’s a fucking witch. I bet she’s a Satan worshipper!”
Now that the knife lay on the ground a foot from where Derek had fallen, she summoned it. It floated effortlessly to her and she opened her hand as the handle pressed gently into her palm.
“Get away from me,” she hissed.
At the moment she didn’t care what they thought she was. If their belief that she was Satan himself aided her then let them believe it.
The bricks flew toward them, stopping mere inches from their heads. They already had their hands up to protect their faces, eyes closed, cringing, braced for impact. When nothing happened, they carefully opened their eyes and panic spread like wildfire over their faces.
When they hastily took several steps back, the bricks shot toward them again. Evidently deciding to leave their “friend” to his fate, they turned and fled as if the hounds of hell were nipping at their heels.
The bricks dropped to the pavement, one of them chipping at the corner. Ari stood there, trembling in the aftermath of her brush with death.