Page 39 of Ensnared

Two hours with Penelope still have me wanting to cry in the corner.

“Look, witch,” I shout, “I’m trying, okay?”

“I can’t feel anything anymore. I should feel a distinct pressure when you push me to do something.”

“I hate you.”

“You’ve said.” She’s smiling. “More than once.”

My head’s pounding like it’s been hit with a hammer repeatedly. “I can’t push any harder.”

“Are you sure you were ensnared?”

I yank the neck of my shirt down over my shoulder and show her the seal. “I’m sure.”

She shakes her head. “I tried everything I could to resist my blessed, but pushing commands was always easy.”

“Maybe it’s because you were pushing to humans, and I’m trying to force someone like me.” Suddenly, an overwhelming compulsion to flip over on my hands and knees and bark like a dog grips me. I’m dropping to my knees when I realize it’s from stupid Penelope. I grit my teeth and push back as hard as I can.

She stumbles backward and swears under her breath. “What was that?”

“Well, clearly you send commands to me just fine.” I sit down on the grass, rubbing my temples.

“But you didn’t act on mine, either.” She frowns. “Maybe it is harder to command another ensnared. I’ve never been given permission to try.”

Ha! Maybe I’m not as pathetic as she thinks.

“I should have brought along a human or two. I suppose I could summon one now.”

“I’m supposed to have my own later tonight.” My stomach turns. “I hate the idea.”

Penelope shrugs. “You’ll get over it quick.”

“Maybe you did. I don’t even plan to try.”

“Your blessed will make you,” she says.

“So I’ll lie and say I’m deficient.” I shrug. “You should get more creative.”

She frowns. “I never even thought of that.”

“I may suck at mind-controlling people?—”

“Because your blessed is weak, probably.”

“But I’m great at ticking off my dragon.”

“Wait.” She swallows slowly. “You intentionally make him angry?”

“All the time,” I say. “Once I stabbed him in the throat.” It almost killed me, but for some reason that image still makes me smile.

All the blood has drained from Penelope’s face. “You. . .did what?”

“I know it was stupid, but at the time, I didn’t realize that whatever injury they sustain also hurts us.”

“But you actually stabbed him? With what?”

“I found this umbrella,” I say, “and he’d just ensnared me. First, I stabbed his buddy, but then after he healed?—”