In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)(10)

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 f*ck 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 f*cking 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 impact. 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.”