Motega

Chapter 4

Hey to all readers! I need your help :P I'm in dire need of:

A. a cast for the characters up to this point

B. a video for this book

and

C. promotion XD

If you could help me out with any of these things, I will dedicate the next chapter to you!! Thank you and happy reading!

Chapter 4

“Okay,” I slipped out of Anya’s uncomfortable hold, “This is getting way to friendly for my taste. Mind telling me what being “sigh” means?”

“Psi.” Anya glanced at Aleta unnervingly, “Spelled P. S. I.”

“Short for psionic.” Fain, while peeking through a curtain, interrupted, “It means you’re different than everyone else,” he pointed towards Aleta, “Different then her.”

                Aleta frowned and coughed gently. I wanted to keep her out of this conversation as much as possible. But even timid Aleta had her breaking points, and it seemed this was one of them.

“And how do you know I’m not…Psi?” Aleta crossed her arms awkwardly, “You didn’t check or anything like that.”

“Well for one thing, your aura if incredibly scattered,” Anya squinted, “And, well, a Psi without working eyes? It just doesn’t happen.”

                Aleta stifled a wheeze.

“It’s not her fault.” I cut in, “Her father completely-”

“Save the sob story for later.” Fain closed the curtain suddenly, “We have company. Looks like two Wiccans and some tall boy. Black hair.” Fain glanced at him, “Do you know him?”

“Sounds like Destin.” I mumbled, Wiccans? Like the cult?

                Fain had taken charge. He leaned in towards Anya and muttered something I couldn’t quite catch. Anya nodded solemnly, almost unwillingly. They weren’t my primary focus. Poor Aleta was completely lost, but determined not to turn into the child of the situation.

“Is there any way out of the house other than the front door?” Fain asked me anxiously.                            

“Yeah,” I nodded, deciding to trust Fain and Anya over Destin any day, “Through my parents’ bedroom, and the kitchen.”

“Which one’s closer?” Anya had pulled out the knife and was examining it calmly.

“The kitchen, but-”

“No time.” Fain grabbed my arm, “Anya, take the other girl and get her to the rendezvous. I’ll take this one.”

Before I could complain or throw myself between Anya and Aleta, Fain had whisked me past the kitchen and through the main hallway. Glass quivered beneath our feet as we shot to the other wing of the house, and Fain dropped something to the floor but didn’t bother to pick it up. We had reached the door leading to my parents’ bedroom when the front door crashed down. Whatever I had been expecting from a visit from Destin, it hadn’t been a brutal entry. I knew he meant business.

“Move.” Fain whispered before pushing me through the now open door, “We have to get out before the spark explodes.”

“What?!” I unlocked the French doors leading to the backdoor patio and threw myself outside.