by Maya Banks
where she taught English, a hint of sadness that always accompanied the end of the school year tugging at her.
But she shrugged off the momentary melancholy because soon she would be with her parents, and she’d spend the summer with them wherever her father chose to surprise her mother with this year.
She smiled as her thoughts drifted to her parents. So in love even after so many years of marriage. Her father was fiercely protective of her mother and in turn her mother and father were fiercely protective of her.
With good reason.
Never tell. Never let anyone know. Never use your powers.
It was a mantra her father had instilled in her since she was old enough to remember. She had grown up very sheltered, protected and extremely isolated. With good reason.
Her parents had done as much as they could to give her some sense of normalcy, but it wasn’t possible because Ari wasn’t normal. She was a freak of nature. Something from a cheesy sci-fi movie. People like her didn’t exist. Except . . . she did. And there was no logical explanation as to why.
Her father was the epitome of logical. He had a brilliant, analytical mind, and even he seemed baffled over Ari’s abilities. His greatest fear had been . . . discovery. That somehow Ari would be found out and taken away from her parents or exposed to danger from people seeking to harness her powers and use them for God only knew what. And so they’d hired tutors to homeschool her. She went nowhere without a security team.
But now, as an adult, graduated with honors from a small, private college, she’d stepped outside of the protective bubble created by her father so many years earlier.
He didn’t like it. Neither did her mother. But they understood, thank God. All her father had asked was for her to never give anyone reason to believe she was any different from any other young woman in the world.
It was a promise she had no problem giving because normalcy was exactly what she wanted—craved. She didn’t want to be “that freak.” Her parents had raised her in constant fear of discovery, at least until she was old enough to understand not to ever use her powers and expose herself to the rest of the world. Only then had they relaxed somewhat and no longer lived in constant terror of Ari mistakenly revealing all that she could do.
Her parents had made great sacrifices for her. Their entire lives had revolved around her protection. It was a fact Ari regretted with all her heart. That, because of her, none of them had been able to lead normal lives.
She dug into her purse for her keys as she walked briskly down the sidewalk of the busy street the school was on. The large brick building was surrounded by a wrought-iron fence with a gate that closed promptly after school started and opened just minutes before school let out. The teachers’ parking lot was a half a block down from the gate and she was the last teacher to leave, judging by the vacant parking area.
Just as she was about to exit the sidewalk and cross the lot where her car was parked, she was shoved roughly to the ground, the pavement scraping her knees and palms as she planted her hands down to break her fall.
Shock splintered up her spine as she tried to comprehend what the hell had just happened!
“You fucking bitch! You think you’re going to get away with failing me? If it weren’t for you, I’d be going to college in the fall. Do you have any idea what my parents are going to do when they see my final grades?”
She recognized the voice as one of her students. Derek Cambridge. He came from a wealthy family and had a sense of entitlement a mile wide. He was arrogant and egotistical, but she would have never dreamed he would attack her for the grade he’d earned in her class.
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 im
pact. 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.
And then realization struck her that she’d done the unthinkable. No matter that she’d had to act to save her life, she’d just used telekinesis in front of three witnesses. But the witnesses weren’t what concerned her the most. Most likely if they went to the police with such an insane story they’d be laughed out of the precinct. But the parking lot, as well as the entire school and all it encompassed, was monitored by surveillance cameras.
There would be tangible proof of her inexplicable powers.
She began to shake violently, the knife dropping from her hand with a clatter as it skittered across the uneven pavement. Paying no heed to her bleeding knees and palms or the pain in her side from the vicious kick, she yanked opened her bag, digging desperately for her phone.
It took three attempts before she managed to punch the right button to bring up her father’s contact and connect the call.
“Ari,” her father greeted in an affectionate tone. “How was your last day of school?”
“D-d-dad,” she stammered. “I’m in trouble.”
Her father’s tone immediately changed. She could feel the tension vibrating through the phone as if she were standing right in front of him. She could well imagine how swiftly he’d shifted gears from thinking this was a casual call to knowing his daughter was in danger.
“Tell me,” he clipped out. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Where are you?”
She took a breath and related the events in as concise a manner as she could, knowing that time was of the essence. And then a horrible thought occurred to her because Derek still lay unconscious on the ground in front of her. Had she killed him?
Holding the phone to her ear with one hand, she bent down, nearly moaning with the effort it took, and pressed her fingers into his neck to feel for a pulse. Relief coursed through her veins when she felt a strong, steady pulse against her fingertips.
“Get in your car. Lock the doors. I’ll be there in five minutes,” her father said tersely. “If anyone and I mean anyone approaches you or you feel threatened in any manner, you get the hell out of there.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “But Dad, what about Derek? Should I call an ambulance? I can’t just leave him here. Even if it was self-defense, I can’t leave him to die.”
Her father’s voice was implacable, steel laced in his words. “Do as I said. I’ll be there in five minutes and I’ll take care of everything.”
The call ended and Ari swiveled in all directions, looking to see if anyone was watching or had witnessed what had happened. Mercifully for her, Derek and his friends had hidden behind the stone enclosure that connected the parking lot to the fence surrounding the school grounds. Derek lay out of sight to anyone walking by on the sidewalk, but Ari herself was in plain view.
Her father was right. She needed to get into her car before someone saw her standing there bleeding and came closer to investigate.
Even though he’d tried to kill her, regret for what she’d done lay heavy on her. It went against every personal moral code to just leave him there. What if he’d suffered a serious head injury? What if he died because he wasn’t promptly taken to a hospital? No matter the kind of person he was, he didn’t deserve to die in the parking lot, alone and abandoned by his friends.
Confident in her father’s ability to take care of the matter as he’d said he would, she shakily dialed 911 and then, in a low voice, she identified herself as a teacher at Grover Academy and reported a student lying unconscious in the teachers’ parking lot.
Exactly four minutes later, her father’s Escalade roared into the parking lot and came to an abrupt halt beside Ari’s car. He was out and striding around to the driver’s seat of her vehicle before she could even open her door.
When she stepped out and couldn’t control the wince when her ribs protested, her father’s face became stormy, his eyes like stone, his jaw clenched and ticking with agitation.
“I called 911,” she said in a low voice, knowing her father wouldn’t be pleased that she hadn’t heeded his instructions. “I couldn’t just leave him there.”
“The little bastard is fortunate he’s still out,” her father said coldly. “I’d kill him for what he did to you.” Then he put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. “Are you all right? Are you in pain?”
“I hurt,” she admitted. “I’m scraped up, but the kick to the ribs is what’s bothering me the most.”
Her father’s gaze became glacial, but he bit back whatever response was burning on his lips.
“Get in your car and follow me. If you called 911, an ambulance will be here soon and probably the police as well. I want you as far away as possible when that happens.”
“Dad, the school has security cameras,” she said, her voice trembling.
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I’m already on it, honey. Now get in your car. We need to leave now.”
She breathed out in relief. Her father would handle it. He would protect her just as he’d always protected her. She turned and hurriedly slid back into the driver’s seat, ignoring her body’s protest. They likely only had minutes until medical personnel and the authorities converged on the parking lot.
There would be questions. She’d made the call to 911 and then left the scene. Most people would have remained, rendering aid or at least ensuring the safety of the victim until medical help arrived. And she’d have to answer for why she hadn’t done just that.
But she had absolute faith in her father. He’d never failed her.
She took off with a jerk as she hit the accelerator to follow her dad as he roared from the lot.
Her father set a determined pace through traffic and she realized they were heading home—one of the many places they called home—but the place they stayed mostly during the year when she taught and her father managed his business.
They zoomed through the security gate and it swiftly closed behind them. As soon as she pulled into the garage, her mother appeared in the doorway and she rushed over to open Ari’s door, her face a wreath of concern.
“Be careful, darling,” her father told her mother gently. “She’s hurt.”
“Oh Ari, what happened, sweetheart? Do you need to go to the hospital?” She turned anxiously to her husband. “Shouldn’t you have taken her straight to the hospital?”
Gavin Rochester put a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder before leaning in to help Ari from the car. This time Ari was more disciplined and didn’t let her discomfort show because her mother was already verging on panic and Ari didn’t want to add to her worry.
“There wasn’t time, Ginger. We have problems that needed to be addressed quickly. I’ve already put a call into Doctor Winstead and he’s on his way over. If he feels Ari needs to be hospitalized or that she’s seriously injured, we’ll do so discreetly in his outpatient clinic, where privacy and anonymity can be assured.”
Ginger wrapped her arm gently around her daughter and Ari could feel her shaking in fear and agitation. In turn, she wrapped her arm around her mother’s slender frame and hugged her as tightly as the discomfort in her ribs would allow.
“I’m okay, Mom. We have bigger problems than my injuries. I messed up.”
As she spoke, she glanced apologetically up to her father, regret for letting him down flooding her heart.
His expression immediately became fierce. He framed her face in his hands, turning her away from her mother, forcing her gaze to his.
“Don’t you ever apologize or feel you’ve let me or your mother down for doing whate
ver it takes to protect yourself. You could have died today, Ari. If you hadn’t done what you did, your mother and I would be planning your funeral right now. This is one time I thank God for your extraordinary abilities, and for the first time, I believe there is a genuine purpose—some higher reason—for your gift. Today that gift saved the life of someone very precious to me.”
Tears welled in Ari’s eyes at the sincerity brimming in her father’s.
“Now let’s get you inside,” he said, urging her carefully toward the door. “I have some phone calls to make and Doctor Winstead should be here soon. Let your mother fuss over you like she’s dying to do and don’t worry about this, baby. I promise you, I’ll take care of it.”
“I know you will, Dad,” she said in a low voice.
FIVE
ARI settled with a sigh into her bedroom her parents still kept for her, even though she had her own apartment—in one of the buildings her father owned, of course. It had been hard enough for her parents to let go, but her father’s tolerance only ran so far. He’d insisted she move into his building that housed upscale apartments not far from where she taught, because security was tight and he could be assured of her safety.
It wouldn’t at all surprise her if he had a full security detail also housed in the apartment building just to keep an eye on her.
Her mother had stood anxiously over Doctor Winstead as he examined Ari, almost as if she were afraid he’d miss something in his diagnosis. But other than the scrapes on her hands and knees, all she had suffered was severe bruising to her ribs; nothing was broken.
She’d be sore and stiff for a few days, and he’d advised her to take it easy and not to overdo it, something her mother had firmly said would not be an issue, and then he’d written prescriptions for muscle relaxers and pain medication that her mother had promptly sent out to be filled and delivered within the hour.
Talk of where they’d spend the summer hadn’t even been broached. Her father had spent the afternoon on the phone making quiet calls and she’d purposely not listened in because she didn’t want to know. Guilt still assailed her because she wasn’t a violent person. It went against her every instinct to willingly hurt another human being.
Her father had always worried that she was too soft—like her mother—but he hadn’t worried overly much, because her mother’s sweetness was what had drawn her father to her in the first place. Her father was a hard man. Unyielding. He could be scary when crossed and yet with her mother? He was a completely different man.
The idea of her quiet, delicate, softhearted mother being able to tame the ultimate bad boy had always been a source of amusement for Ari. And he’d often said that he thanked God that Ari hadn’t inherited any of his qualities. He didn’t believe himself a good man when in fact he was the very best sort of man.
But Ginger brought out the best in him and who could fault a man for doing whatever it took to protect his wife and daughter from the harsh realities of life?
Her mother had hinted on a few occasions that her father had not always been the most law-abiding man in the world but that after meeting her he vowed to change. He wanted to be better. For her. He wanted to be worthy. Of her.
Ari thought it was terribly romantic, but at the same time her parents’ marriage had ruined her for ninety-nine percent of the male population, because she wanted what her mother had. A man who’d go to the wall for her. Who’d move heaven and earth to make her happy. To put her needs and desires above his own and to remove any threat to her.
Which explained her lack of a social life. Her actual dates could be counted on one hand. Two hadn’t measured up to her father’s very extensive background check and weren’t men he—or she—wanted to become involved with. The others? There just wasn’t that . . . spark. The spark she saw every time her father laid eyes on his wife. How his face softened with so much love that it made her very soul ache.
She wanted that. And she refused to settle for less even if it meant spending the rest of her life alone. Not to mention she couldn’t imagine many men who would be understanding or tolerant of her special “gift.” Hell, they’d probably run as far and as fast away as possible while making the sign of the cross.
Who could she trust with her secrets anyway? And she refused to have a relationship steeped in secrecy and lies—even ones of omission. If she ever married, her husband would know the full truth about her and he’d accept it without reservation. Which didn’t leave her with many options.
Not wanting to depress herself even further, she flipped on the TV as she snuggled further into bed, the effects of the medication starting to take hold and remove some of the nagging discomfort in her battered body.
But thirty seconds later, she wished she had just gone to sleep when she saw the lead story on the local news, which would no doubt be picked up by bigger networks and by the morning would be on the major media outlets like CNN and Fox News.
She watched in horror as a video, obviously filmed from a phone, replayed the entire confrontation in the parking lot. Damn it, but there must have been someone passing by that stopped and captured the entire whole damning scene.
The anchor’s words were sensationalistic—of course. How one young woman, a teacher at Grover Academy, and God, they even identified her by name, had managed to fend off three attackers in the parking lot of the school.
She knew from her father that he’d arranged for the video monitoring system for the school to be hacked into and to show the actual attack on Ari so there was no question of self-defense but the footage had cut off—an inexplicable “glitch”—when her powers became evident.
Whoever shot this video caught the entire thing from beginning to end.
Panic surged. Her pulse shot up and her throat closed in as anxiety viciously gripped her entire body. The medication that had eased the pain and tension was rendered useless, because the nagging ache was back with a vengeance.
And then the anchor’s next words sent her right over the edge. The video had gone viral, with already a million YouTube hits and countless Facebook shares, and it was being picked up by the AP as everyone expressed shock and awe at what they’d witnessed.
Everything her parents had worked so hard for in the last twenty-four years
