Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(54)

“Very funny.” I smirk.

He almost gives me a real smile.

Warmth fills my skin at the flash of his dimple. “So, what’s first on the list?”

Discomfort surfaces in his features again, the light in his eyes fading as quickly as it came. He moves away from the desk to the center of the room. “I think we should begin with the most basic theory,” he says. “Showing you where your power—or your energy—comes from.” He motions to the spot in front of him. “Can you stand here?”

I hesitate, but then move toward the spot. For some reason, I’m nervous again, feeling the same caution I did when I woke up this morning beside his sleeping, half-naked body.

I position myself to face him, keeping a good space between us. “Like this?”

“Good.” The muscle in his temple shifts. He moves around and comes up behind me. “I’m going to take off your torque.”

“Okay.” My body tenses involuntarily.

His fingers brush the back of my neck, and a surge of heat fills my cheeks, my chest. As soon as he moves away, it passes.

He sets the necklace aside on the desk and walks over to stand in front of me again, looking lost. “So, uh, like I said, this would normally start slower, but I’m going to push you.” When I don’t argue, he continues. “I need you to focus. Close your eyes and picture yourself from the outside, standing there. Feel the green life, sense the cool of the air around you. Can you do that?”

I close my eyes, trying to focus and do what he said. It’s a little weird, but I need to make this work. One of my foster brothers was into meditating. I try to remember what he used to do. After a second of trying to quiet my mind, I feel the air brushing at my skin and smell the plants filling the greenhouse. “Okay, I got it.” I think.

“Your world is no longer what you know with your five human senses,” he says. “There’s going to be an added layer now. And, eventually, several more—but we’ll worry about that later.” I hear his shoes scrape the dirt floor like he’s shifting position. “Uh, let’s see . . . it’s been a while since I’ve seen someone else go through this . . . but it’s about sensing your body differently. Deeper, inside. There are parts of you, as a demi, that you haven’t tapped into in your human life.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Like when you’re sick and your bones ache with fever. Instead of just knowing you’ve got an infection, like you would with your human awareness, now you should be able to feel the part of your body causing the illness, the flaw, and draw your energy into that spot to repair it on a cellular level.”

“Whoa. Really?”

“It’ll take practice, though.”

“How did I start a fire when I was sleeping? That’s the part I’m worried about.”

“We’ll get to that.” His feet shift again and he begins to pace. “First you have to feel deeper, understand where the energy is coming from in a more practical way. So what you have to do is look inward. Peel your skin back and consider your muscles, your tendons, your bones.”

I scrunch up my face.

He ignores my reaction and continues. “But most importantly, you should think about the blood that feeds all of it. The life that weaves the energy through you, with your heartbeat.” After a pause, he asks impatiently, “Are you focusing?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally.” But I’m not sure I know how. What do my insides really look like? “So, the muscles and stuff, that’s what I’m thinking of? Or the blood?”

He grunts, and I squint to peek at him. He’s frowning at the floor and shaking his head. “Let’s simplify it. Just listen to your heartbeat, okay?”

That I can do. I close my eyes again and go as still as possible.

“Breathe in through your nose,” he says, “and listen.”

I do what he says, breathing in and out slowly. A bird’s song rises into my consciousness, and I hear the distant rush of the waterfall outside, but I make myself block them out and hone in on my own body as I breathe. The feel of my pulse moves to the forefront. It beats slowly in my head, in my neck and my hands, a quiet vibration. “Okay, I’m good.”

“Your energy, your power, travels through your blood. It feeds your cells, keeping you young. But when uncontrolled, it can seep from your skin unwittingly, having serious effects on the outer world around you. Like the fire in your cottage. Your power spilled out through your skin—maybe because of a nightmare. You understand?”

I nod. That actually makes sense. “But the torque is supposed to stop that?”

“And yet yours didn’t. So you’re going to have to focus and learn quickly if you don’t want to hurt anyone.”

No pressure.

“You’re listening to your heart, right?” he asks, his voice coming closer.

My pulse beats a little harder. I nod, keeping my eyes closed.

“Now, think about last night,” he says, “when Kieran cornered you. Were you afraid?”

I pause at the reminder of the moment, not sure I want to be honest, but there’s no point in playing it off. “Yeah.” I was terrified, and yet I did nothing to stop it.

“What else did you feel?”

“Confused,” I say quickly, and then I add more quietly, “Powerless.” My throat tightens, the vulnerability rushing back in.