I sat down on my bed, taking a deep breath. I couldn’t get over this. I wasn’t human. Why hadn’t my parents told me? Did they even know the truth? Too many questions poured through my mind, all swirling around one single thought.
I was a witch.
I changed quickly into my pajamas. I was glad Ryan had called to cancel our date. A slight emergency had come up requiring his attention for the evening. I was more than happy to let him off the hook. After all, how could I even expect to focus on anything right then? Even something as wonderful as him?
Oh, no. Ryan!
What was I going to tell him? This was something that could ruin everything. I could just see it. “Hey, I’m a witch. You still want to be with me?”
Ryan Everheart, America’s golden boy, would run as fast as he could in the other direction. And I wouldn’t blame him. He could have any girl he wanted. There was no reason to stay with someone he thought was crazy. Or worse than that…a freak.
No. I knew our relationship was doomed the moment I woke up in this strange new world. I just hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself. I guess I could try to hide it from him. Or maybe just forget this new part of me. Ryan was quickly becoming the most important thing in my life. Was I really ready to give up on that? Just for something I may or may not be able to do?
That’s what I needed to know. What could I really do? And was it something I could give up?
Grabbing a scented candle from my shelf, I set it down on the night stand. Sitting back down, I focused on its wick. If I was really a witch, I should be able to light the candle using nothing but my will. I had seen it done plenty of times in the movies. It looked simple enough.
I cleared my mind of everything but the candle. I stared at the unblemished white wick, concentrating so hard my eyes were about to cross. In my mind, I let one word repeat over and over.
Light. Light.
After what seemed like an eternity, I pulled back, closing my eyes from the strain. Disappointment swam through me. I couldn’t even light one little candle. What good was I as a witch? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give it up for Ryan.
Taking a deep breath, I tried again. It was the least I could do before I wrote off this new life forever. I stared at the candle for a moment and then closed my eyes; picturing it in my mind with perfect clarity. I then imagined holding a match to it. I needed the light from the flame. I yearned for the heat it offered. I wanted fire, and I wanted it now.
I suddenly felt heat against me. I smiled, knowing the flame was really there, dancing before me. I opened my eyes and gasped in terror. My nightstand was on fire.
I had set the dumb thing on fire.
Jumping up, I grabbed my bottle of water, pouring it down along the flames. It slowly died, winking out of existence like it had never been. I stared in shock as the water dripped down on my carpet, turning it into a soggy mess. The wax candle, still standing, was completely untouched by the hungry flames.
I did that. I had called fire. I was a witch. But it hadn’t gone as I planned. It had taken control and nearly set our apartment on fire. I did have powers, but I couldn’t control them. That not only made me a Supernatural, it made me a very, very dangerous one.
Twenty Four
Bell, Book, and Sandals Page 29
