And the more I used them? The more I’d turn into—
I shook my head so suddenly, a powerful wave of nausea slammed down my body, and I lost my balance.
Before I could tilt backward and fall against the sheets of metal behind me, probably skewering my spine in the process, Max darted forward once more. Rather than wrap an arm around my middle like he usually did, he simply rested one on my shoulder.
And he looked right into my eyes. “Chi, it’s my choice to help you. Now, please, let me.” His voice did all sorts of strange things on the word please. The kinds of things that burrowed inside my heart, that wrapped arms around it, that pulled me close.
I felt sick and yet warm and yet terrified all at once.
I also teetered backward as another wave of fatigue crashed against me.
This time Max did lean in, did wrap two arms around my back, did pull me close as he steadied me against his hip.
I wanted so much to fall against his chest and let everything disappear.
… But it wouldn’t disappear.
I felt weak, didn’t I?
It wasn’t just the blood loss, was it?
Just before my eyes could close, I forced them open as a pang of fear spiraled through my mind.
Bridgette had told me that the more she used her powers – especially if she used them for prolonged periods of time – the worse her scar got. It was the same with Max’s memories.
So wouldn’t it be the same with me? If I kept using my powers to see the future, would that lack of control spill out into the rest of my life?
Now the only thing keeping me standing – even if I was only standing with the help of Max – was my thundering heart.
Max reached up a hand, pushed my fringe from my eyes, and looked steadily into my gaze. “Just let me help you,” he said. Then he spread his palm and fingers flat against my cheek.
It took me a moment to realize what he was doing, took me a moment to feel the charge of magic slip from his fingers into my skin.
I jerked back.
“Chi,” he admonished, pushing forward, trying to clap his hand against my cheek once more.
I shook my head. “No,” I said, and I surprised myself with my forcefulness. It rattled out of my throat, leaving no one with any question as to whether I was back in charge. “No,” I said. “You will not use your powers to heal me. I’ll be fine. Plus, we don’t have time.” I tilted my head back and stared in the direction of the operations room. My vision suddenly flashed through my mind, but I did not follow it. Though sparks started to collect at the edges of my eyes, I pushed them away with all my might. I didn’t care about the curse – if this was technically turning from my powers, then so be it.
As I gritted my teeth and stood my ground, that flash of a vision disappeared into the fog of my mind.
“That guy is still up there. The victim. He’s okay, I think,” I said, “still breathing,” I added. “But he needs medical attention. We have to get him to the hospital.”
Max still had hold of my shoulder, but as I jerked back, his hand fell to his side.
I didn’t give him the opportunity to question. I spun on my foot, clenched my teeth against the pain, and staggered towards the doorway on the opposite wall.
It took several seconds for Max to react, several seconds until he rushed up beside me. But, strangely, he didn’t suddenly scoop me off my feet, lock me in place, and grind that magical palm against the center of my forehead. Instead, he walked by my side, his hand hovering behind my back but not resting on it.
I saw his expression out of the corner of my eye, saw how crumpled his brow was, how direct and intense his gaze had become. And yet, he didn’t stop me.
We made it to the far door, and Max lurched forward, opening it for me.
I kept my teeth clenched, because it was honestly the only thing keeping me standing.
I felt so taxed. So drained. And it wasn’t just the blood loss.
It was the vision.
It had to be.
Everything comes with a cost. Everything comes with a cost.
Reaching a hand out and pressing my bloodied fingers against the wall, I used it to steady myself as I headed up the small staircase that would lead to the operations room above.
Max was still beside me, his hand still hovering by my back.
Once or twice, I cut my gaze towards his shadow. It was small – just an ordinary obstruction of light. That thing – that presence, that intelligence – it wasn’t there.
… Could it be because I denied Max’s magic? It was just a thought, just a possibility that suddenly sprang to mind. Concentrating on it, I found myself frowning.
We reached the top of the stairway, and Max reached out, opened the door, and thrust it to.
Lying on the floor, crumpled, was the young man.
If it weren’t for his rapidly beating chest, I would have assumed he were dead. He was covered in blood. Blood, and symbols. These powerful, charging, crackling symbols that danced across his body and lit up the walls and floor around him.
I was so far out of my depth. All I could think of was what the vision had shown me doing. Marching in here, grabbing the guy by the collar—
Max quickly shifted down to one knee, warily checking the man over without reaching a hand forward and breaching
