I begged my body to react, fought with the fireflies holding me in place.
No, please, I repeated in my mind. Please!
Max continued to stand there as stiff as one of the steel beams discarded on the factory floor below. But no matter how hard he fought, it was clear he could not break through of the power which held him in place.
It would be up to me.
Earlier, it had been Max’s sudden interruption that had pulled me from the reverie of the vision. But there had to be some other way. My grandmother had apparently used her powers her whole life, so she must have found some way to balance them with their costs.
Then again, I doubted grandma had been forced to contend with Max’s shadow.
I wasn’t one for stamina, never had been. You wouldn’t catch me running a marathon. When it came to battles, I preferred to be canny, to do my research, and, most importantly, to leave the actual fighting to someone else. But now there was no one else. I was Max’s only hope, not to mention my own, too. So I freaking concentrated with everything I had. I drew up every ounce of magical knowledge I had. Because there had to be away.
And I would find one.
A funny thing happened. The more I concentrated on using the last of my strength to find a way free from those fireflies, the more they seemed to dim.
I wasn’t fighting them with any specific weapon – just the desire to be free, to make my own future, even if it was a complete mess.
And slowly, agonizingly slowly, that was all it took. One by one the fireflies started to dim, and the swarm of visions vying for my attention dimmed with them until I broke free.
It felt like being released from a cannon. I fell forward and slammed right into Max, knocking him backward.
He didn’t have time to right himself, and he fell to the floor. I banged against his chest, practically head-butting it.
And then I froze. It wasn’t at the prospect I was in Max’s arms again. No. I waited to find out exactly which Max I’d fallen against.
I kept my eyes on his shadow until he moved. It took a painfully long time until he reached up and wrapped one arm around my back then the other. In a shaking voice, he asked, “Chi?”
I listened to his tone – his breath, watched the tension in his jaw, and stared at his shadow.
“Chi? What happened?”
It was Max, thank God.
Though it was probably inappropriate, I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned forward and rested my head on Max’s chest. “I’m glad you’re back,” I said softly.
“Back? Where did I go? I… I can’t remember,” he answered. Most of the time Max tried to shelter me from his memory loss. Now he was open about it as he stared unblinkingly into my gaze. “I have no idea what just happened.”
That made two of us. Though I didn’t say that out loud. Instead, I finally pushed off Max’s chest and stood. He followed, his expression ashen as he brought a hand up and ran it over the back of his hair.
I watched him, but all hint of the shadow’s control was gone.
Max turned to me. “What happened?” he asked again, and this time, there was a definite desperation behind his words.
I watched Max, and as I did, I used all my years of training. Sure, on the face of it, I’d been nothing more than a lying little fortuneteller, but I’d learned to read people, and now I read Max.
There was every possibility that he was lying to me. That he’d always been lying to me. Maybe he’d never known my grandmother. Heck, maybe he’d been the one to kill her. Or maybe my heart had always been right, and my future lay in getting to the bottom of this mystery, saving Max, and saving myself at the same time.
Never taking my eyes off him, I nodded towards the crumpled man on the floor. “You remember what happened? Do you remember asking me to use my powers to save that guy?”
Max shook his head. There was something so raw about his response, something that couldn’t be faked. There were few things in life I was genuinely good at, but this was one of them.
I could read people, and Max wasn’t lying.
I offered him the softest, most gentle of smiles. “Do you even remember coming here to save me?”
With that same hand plastered against his head, it was clear Max battled with his memories. But all too soon, he gave a somber shrug.
I took a deep breath. “Well, you did come here and save me,” I said, offering him the heavily redacted Cliff notes version where I specifically failed to mention the bit about his evil shadow.
Though his cheeks were still ashen and his eyes still haunted from memory loss, he managed to smile, and excuse me if it wasn’t the most engaging smile I’d ever experienced. Sure, I’d seen cuter, I’d seen brighter – but I’d never felt anything more compelling.
You know the kind of smile that can bypass the rational side of your mind and go straight to your heart, warming it up and making it sing?
But, smile aside, I couldn’t ignore what had just happened.
I faced Max as I tried to think of what to do next.
There could now be no doubt what my
