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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Leo stands behind me, patiently waiting for me to unlock Newberry’s side door. Shyly, I ask, “Do you want to come in for a bit?” It’s only ten o’clock and I’m not ready to give up his company just yet.

“Is your roommate out?”

“Probably. Why?” The handle gives and light and warmth greet us in the open doorway.

He smiles sheepishly before ushering me ahead of him through the door.

I laugh. “She doesn’t bite.” Most of the time.

“So you say?—”

He follows me the short way to my room but doesn’t step inside until I wave him in. His eyes fall on Liv’s empty, still-made bed. “How’s she dealing with the whole sorority thing?”

I toss my coat over my desk chair and sink onto my bed, explaining in as detached a manner as I can Liv’s Sweetheart predicament.

Leo frowns. “You mean, without you, she just doesn’t matter?”

“It sounds even worse when you put it that way.”

“But that’s the truth.” He twists out of his jacket and lays it neatly over mine.

“I hope not. Maybe they’ll get it all squared away tonight.”

“So that’s where she is? At O-Chi?”

I nod. I don’t need to tell Leo what an awkward situation it is for Liv and me; it seems he already knows. “Sit,” I say, patting the space beside me. It’s making me nervous, how he’s just standing there rubbing his jaw.

I kick off my shoes and scoot back on my bed until my back is against the wall alongside it. Leo does the same, keeping his shoes on until I go all mom on him and order him to take them off. He laughs and obeys, his Doc Martens thunking on the floor like ten-pound bricks.

“Are you still tired?” I ask him.

“Not as much. I think the cold air helped.”

I agree. “Very bracing.”

“Will you tell me more about the ritual? What you saw?”

“I didn’t see anything. I only felt stuff.” I don’t particularly want to revisit the experience, but I will for Leo. For no one else but him. I detail the entire meditation, from the moment I felt the energy seeping into me until the instant I opened my eyes.

He chews his lip while he listens, his thigh twitching alongside mine as he rocks his crossed feet back and forth. He’s in thinking mode. I’m a mystery to solve—a fascinating one, judging by the intensity of his gaze.

“Tell me again why you hate to swim.”

I tip my head back against the wall. “I don’t know exactly why. It just feels like too much. Too overwhelming. All that water all over me.” I elaborate with gestures that have him smiling.

“But you don’t mind taking a shower,” he points out.

“No,” I laugh. “I like taking showers. It’s not like I don’t like water, it’s just that when I’m swimming, there’s so much of it and it’s pressing on me. ”

“And nothing’s ever happened to you? You’ve never nearly drowned or gotten pulled out by a riptide or anything like that?”

“Nope.” I maintain a straight face as I add, “But I’ve wrestled a few sharks.”

He plays along. “Oh, have you? And yet you still have all your limbs.”

“Because I always win. In my room back home, I have three shark heads mounted on the wall. And a drawer full of teeth.”

“Betts Peterson, Shark Wrestler.”

“That’s me.”

After a good laugh, I ask him, “What do you think happened during the ritual? Did I do it wrong?

He shakes his head. “It sounds to me like one of your ancestors was sharing an experience with you. A memory. And the way it happened—where you felt everything they did, but didn’t see or hear anything—that makes sense for someone with clairsentience.”

I frown. “But without seeing or hearing, I have no idea who it was.” Aaron heard his grandfather, Avery saw Aunt Laura. I went for a swim. And I can’t even say where or with whom.

“Maybe if you go back?—”

“Avery said I shouldn’t.”

Leo scoops up my hand. “She said you shouldn’t when you’re alone. But you don’t have to be. Whenever you decide you want to try again, just tell me and I’ll help you. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

I angle my body so I can see him better. And to get the nearness I’m suddenly, and inexplicably, craving. “I don’t know if I’ll ever want to do it again.”

He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. He knows I’m afraid. “I promised you I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“Yeah, but that’s not a promise you can actually keep.”

Defiance flashes in his eyes. “Well, I can damn well try.”

His insistence steals my breath. I believe him, that he wants to protect me. He always has. Even when he’s the one who nudges me into doing something frightening, he always makes sure he’s there to catch me.

“I have a theory,” he says, giving my hand an extra squeeze. “Can we try something?”

Leo and his experiments. “Uh, sure.” How can I say no to those eyes? “What do you want to try?”

He spins to face me, one knee up and the other in front of him. “You were the only one who wasn’t exhausted after the ritual.”

“Well, yeah, because I didn’t know what I was doing.” As evidenced by the fact that I almost lost my spirit in some other dimension.

“Then you should’ve been more wiped out than the rest of us, not less. You were able to go deeper and further than any of us.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Because it was scary as hell.

“Betts.” His voice is firm. “What you did takes power. Lots of power.”

Ugh, not all this “you’re so powerful” stuff again. I went too deep because I’m too sensitive. Too vulnerable and thin-skinned. Nothing but a raw nerve.

“What I did is the complete opposite of power,” I hiss, ripping my hand from his.

“No, it’s not.” He snatches my hand right back. “If I’m right, and I’m pretty sure I am, you’re not just feeling other people’s emotions, you’re harnessing them.”

“ Harnessing them?”

“You’re using the energy you’re feeling. Like fuel.”

My jaw drops as my stomach squeezes. “Are you saying I siphoned your emotions?”

“No. Well, yes, sort of. But not in a bad way.” His gentle fingers on my cheek aren’t enough to quiet the storm that’s brewing inside of me. “You’re drawing in their energy.”

And that’s why I was all revved up and needing booze while Leo, Avery, and Aaron were snarfing handfuls of chocolate and still not getting all their energy back. Because I took it. I sucked it all up like a vacuum, all those emotions I passed through as I sank into the meditation.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to be siphoning people’s energy.”

What if this is the purpose of my power, and now it’s yet another thing I’ll have to learn how to control? I feel like I’m reading a novel with too many twists. What am I going to find out next? That I can read someone’s thoughts? Control their movements? See the future in their cereal bowl?

“Betts.” I feel Leo’s firm hands on my shoulders. “It’s okay.”

“It’s too much.”

When he folds me in his arms, I resist for all of a second before I melt into him, probably because I’m sucking in all his calming energy. As he rubs my back, I bury my face in his neck and draw my arms around his shoulders. He smells like snow and incense and mead.

“I’m broken,” I murmur. But being so close to him, I’m feeling less and less torn up about it.

“No, you’re not.” He leans back and smooths my tangled hair from my face. “You’re incredible.”

I want to argue, but no words come out of my mouth. Everything about his expression, from his shining eyes to his parted lips, tells me he means it. He thinks I’m incredible.

His voice is low and breathless, his eyes insistent. “Draw from me.”

I stare at him. Draw? Draw what?

He clutches one of my hands to his chest. “Draw my emotions from me.”

“What?!” His emotions? I jerk back. “No way.” I’m overstuffed—full to bursting with feelings. I don’t need any more. Especially not Leo’s.

“You’re safe, I promise. ”

“No. I can’t. I can’t do something like that to you.” It’s an intrusion. A violation.

He grips my chin. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

“But what if I do?”

“I can stop you before you hurt either of us. All I want to do is see if I get tired and you get energized. That’s it. It won’t take long.”

“It feels wrong. Like, morally wrong.”

A small smile forms on his lips. “It’s not wrong if I want you to do it.”

“But what if—I mean, emotions are personal. What if I feel something you don’t want me to feel?”

“If I was worried about that, I wouldn’t be asking you to draw from me.”

Draw from me . Like I’m piercing his vein and taking blood. I’m a phlebotomist—no, a vampire—a vampire who drinks emotions. How twisted is that?

“Betts, look at me.” He’s got a hand on each side of my head. Evidently, I was shaking it again. “This is what you’ve been looking for—a way to make your ability work for you. To make it a source of strength.”

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 jaw against 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.