Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(74)

Life, she thought now. Light.

Promise and potential.

She set the stick on the dresser, pulled off her wet shoes, socks, her jeans wet to the knees.

Then gasped when the stick shimmered, sparkled.

She reached for it, lifted it, saw the bright flash of the plus sign.

What did she feel? Fear, yes, fear—so much death, so much violence, so much unknown. Doubt, too. Was she strong enough, capable enough? Shock, even though she’d known.

And over it all, under it all, woven through it all, what did she feel?

Joy. This, after all the misery, this was joy.

With a sign sparkling in one hand, she pressed the other against her belly, against what she and the man she loved had begun inside her.

And felt such joy.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

She also saw joy when she told Max.

She waited. Organizing and inventorying supplies topped the priority list. And to keep on top of supplies, she needed to finish dinner prep. Since she had what she needed, she took the opportunity to walk Poe—the most interested—through the basic steps of bread making.

Throughout it all, Lana hugged the knowledge close.

She didn’t tell Eddie outright, but when he caught her eye with a question in his, she smiled and tapped a hand to her belly. And got a big, goofy grin in return.

A good day, she thought as Poe slid the loaves into the oven. A special day.

While Lana celebrated the news inside her, Max sat with Eric in front of the living room fire. They split one of the beers Eddie had scavenged from the liquor store.

“I’m going to find a way to make it up to everyone. I feel like shit. I know that’s not enough, so I’ll make it up to everybody.”

While the anger of the morning faded, disappointment remained. Still, when Max studied his brother, he saw embarrassment as much as guilt.

And reminded himself that Eric was young, and had been pampered by their parents as a surprise, somewhat-late-in-their-lives baby.

“I hope you do, but the more important issue is the power that’s growing, how you handle it, what you do with it. It’s new, and it’s exhilarating.”

“Yeah. It’s just … Man, it’s wild. Maybe I used to be a little jealous that you had something, and I didn’t. Now that I do, I got carried away. I know that.”

“It’s not surprising, really. Plus, you’ve never studied the Craft, its tenets, been a part of a group or coven.”

“I didn’t have anything before.”

“Didn’t know you did,” Max corrected. “It must have always been inside you. I need you to understand, Eric.” He leaned in now, determined to impress the vitality, the importance. “Excitement, that exhilaration’s natural, especially since your power manifested so quickly. But having this gift requires bedrock respect and responsibility. And practice. The witches’ mantra, ‘An it harm none’ is more than a philosophy. It’s the foundation for all.”

“I get that.” Eagerness layered over the shame. “I get it, Max, absolutely.”

With the worst of his doubts eased, Max nodded. “It’s new for you. I get that. You need guidance, and Lana and I are here for you. None of us can know how far our powers will go, and we have to make certain, absolutely, that we control them. They don’t control us.”

“It’s a rush. I mean, you’ve got to admit.” Eric gestured toward the fireplace, making the flames leap. “I mean, wow.”

“It’s a rush,” Max agreed, “but if you don’t study, practice, and control, fire might get beyond you. Burn down a building, burn people.”

“Jesus, now I’m an arsonist.” Eric rolled his eyes, gulped down some beer. “Give me some credit.”

“You don’t have to intend to do harm to cause it. What I had before this was small, and wondrous. What’s grown since, there’s your rush. But I’ve had years to build that foundation, to study and practice. And, still, there’s so much more to know, to learn. Why with so much dark has so much light bloomed? Or is that the reason itself?”

“We’re filling the vacuum.” Now Eric leaned forward, eagerness flushed in his face. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. Hell, not a whole lot to do around here, so I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it. People like us are coming into our own because the virus took out the noise, the mind-sets against, the numbers.”

“Those numbers were people. I can’t believe, and won’t, that what’s a celebration of light, of love, of life, blossomed out of death and suffering.”

“It’s a theory.” Eric shrugged. “We didn’t cause the virus. The harm, the death. Think of it like power punched through.”

“I’ve given it some thought myself,” Max said dryly. “I think of it as a kind of balancing. We’ve been given more, or what we had already has surfaced so we can balance out the dark and the death. Help rebuild, help restructure a world with more light. More kindness, more tolerance.”

“Pretty much the same thing.”

“With practice and study, I think you’ll see the difference.”

As he slumped back, Eric’s eyes went sulky. “So, what, I’m going to school, with you as the teacher?”

“Consider it a way to start making it up to everyone.”