I search his features, desperate for signs of reassurance. His eyes gleam with excitement. Leo with a theory he wants to prove. But there’s a tenderness under that fire. His smile is soft and patient. Understanding. Maybe I’m less afraid of hurting him, and more worried about failing him.
I whisper, “I don’t know how.”
“The same way you felt the trees. Here—” He presses my palm flat against his chest, directly over his heart.
Oh god, this is intimate. We’re both a little short on air. Under my hand, I feel the rapid, shallow movement of his ribs.
“Close your eyes and concentrate,” he urges.
Like he needs to tell me that. There’s no way I can focus if I’m looking at him, at his beautiful face so close to mine. I drop my forehead onto his shoulder where it’s dark and warm. He rests his jawagainst my head, as though he’s gathering us both in. Into a tight little ball of us.
“Go ahead.” His voice is softer, lower, a mere breath. “I’ve got you.”
His heart thrums against my palm, even more insistent than he is.Trust me. Trust me. Trust me.I feel the essence of him in that steady beat. Leo Hawthorn. My Leo. My mentor and friend. I lean further into him and place my other hand alongside its mate. Leo squeezes them both, keeping them firmly in place.
I stop thinking and start feeling. The muscles under my hands. The pulse of his heart. My focus widens and I take in the heat of his body and the softness of his breath. Before long, I’m feeling him—just him. Energy, thick and warm, melts into my skin and flows to my center. There it builds and builds before it finally breaks, a thunderstorm of feelings. Every thick raindrop is a different emotion, and so many of them are opposites, it’s like I’m being torn in two. I burn, then I shiver. Cower, then fight. One moment I feel as if I’m drowning, the next I’m soaring high, lighter than air. My heart aches with a deep longing, but in the next breath struggles against it. I’m alarmed and alert, racing against time, but I stop and stall, afraid to go on.
I hear Leo call my name, but I can’t feel his presence. He’s too far away. I push forward, trudging through what feels like thick mud, halfway up to my knees. He calls again, closer now, but I still can’t reach him. I claw through the heavy air until I feel a cool hand on my face.
My eyes snap open and he’s right there, sitting on my bed in my room, holding me in his arms.
I blink to clear my vision, startled by the way the gold in his irises sparkles like twinkling faerie lights.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I think so.” My fingers are digging so hard into his chest I’m afraid they’ll leave marks. I relax my hands and gently smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Are you?”
“I’m fine,” he says softly. “It was a lot easier to bring you back this time.”
“I went to you—when I heard you.” Like he was my guide, calling me home.
His lips tip up in a half-smile. I think he’s pleased. He asks, “How do you feel?”
“Jittery.” I hold out a hand so we can both witness the tremors in my fingers. “Like when I’ve had too much caffeine.” Right now, only my extremities are tingling and shaky. My center is still busy dispersing the emotions themselves—all the fear, delight, excitement, and self-loathing. What has this man been going through?
I ask him, “How doyoufeel?”
“I’m not wiped out yet,” he says. “But we’ll see what happens in a few minutes.”
Then I suppose now’s the time to ask him questions, while he’s still alert. “If I’m clairsentient, how come I haven’t felt all that coming off you before?”
“Maybe you have,” he answers thoughtfully. “But you attributed it to another source.”
Yeah, most likely myself.
Next question: “So, if I’m sucking people’s emotions, why aren’t they dropping like narcoleptics every time I walk by?”
I don’t realize what a funny image it is I painted until he cracks up. “Because your clairsentience works unconsciously. It’s just you feeling the energy of other people’s emotions. The only way you canharnessis if you’re drawing in energy on purpose, like you just did. Or like you must’ve been doing during our ritual.”
“But I didn’t drain Avery when we charged my amethyst.”
“Because that was your first ritual. Most novices mostly use their own energy. It takes some practice to learn how to use other sources.”
Other sources like my friends’ emotions.
The jitters have crawled up my limbs and started seeping into my torso. It feels like someone’s drinking a frozen daiquiri through thearteries in my chest. “I’m gonna start bouncing off the walls here in a second.”
Leo suggests I try to ground. I agree, but I’m reluctant to leave his warmth to get on the floor and do it properly. The book Avery gave me says you can ground on an airplane if you have to, so a bed two feet off the floor should be just fine. Without leaving my spot, I cross my legs and close my eyes. It only takes a minute or two for me to visualize my roots stretching down into the ground and feel the excess energy coursing out through them. I draw up a healthy dose of stable earth energy and open my eyes.
