by Rose Garcia
CHAPTER NINE
I had died eight times in that red desert. I wanted to run to my room, bury myself under my covers, hide away forever, but something bothered me. My hand went to my birthmark. "Why now? If I’m really this marked one, why am I in danger now?"
Dad looked tired and worn, and I wondered how long it had been since he slept. Days? Months? Years? "Your mother and I have the ability to shield, and we’ve been shielding you since your birth, hoping to find a way to remove your mark before you were found."
I pictured an invisible bubble surrounding me. Maybe that was why Trent’s grandmother couldn’t see my aura. My parents had covered it.
"We think," Mom, continued, "that playing those cards and the Ouija board weakened our efforts and a bit of your energy was released."
"Wait a minute, so I’m still in danger?" My heart sped up again; my stomach lurched.
"No, you’re not in danger," Dad said. "We reinforced the shield when you were in the hospital. The Tainted may know you’re in Houston, but with the shield in place they can't put a lock on you."
Mom took my hand and held it tight. "Plus, we know there are answers here. We just haven’t found them yet, so we can’t leave. Houston may be our only hope."
