Broken Promises {On Hold}

Part 8 continued

“Where were you?” he already new yet Lucas angrily snarled at her, he was pacing around her little room, she wasn’t paying attention, she was in her world with her shadows. They joined her in watching the little bright red that represented Lucas dance around in front of her; it flared now and then nearly doubling in size, and flickered blue and white when he was really angry.  It fascinated her how her shadows watched and sniffed and swirled around but never once touched the little fire that danced in the black.

He’d stopped shouting and was stood staring at her, “I was thinking, maybe the book could help you, maybe we’re wrong and it is the same magic but in a different form, I want you to read it.” He was trying hard to came himself down, but his voice still had a hint of command; I ignored it but I felt my shadows bristle.

“Can I show you something?” I said quickly before he could start again, slowly he nodded. I took his hand as I stood up and focused. I was getting better at entering peoples head. ‘Don’t panic,’ I said, thought, told him. His eyes widen then furrowed in pain, I tried to keep my distance. I took one of the shadows it changed and form itself into an ebony chain of smoke; I let it drag Lucas toward me; his thoughts filled my head along with his pain. It wasn’t unbearable, I could force it on conscious body and move it from my mind; it was mainly just an annoyance.

‘What? Where?’ His figure was fait white, ghostly in the shadows. They played around him, tumbling to be the first, the closest. His flame was inside him, trapped dancing around the faint figure.

Lucas stared at me, finally ignoring the shadows that swirl around him.

‘Your so, light.’ I hadn’t considered it before but I looked down at myself. He was right, unlike him I wasn’t a faint translucent image I was me, solid and simple. But everything, my shoes, my hair, my hands, were white and shining.  I gasped. The more aware of my brightness I was the brighter I became, until I almost gave off a light of my own. I felt the shadows watching me, just as curious, they danced around me tumbling together and splitting apart, like waves in constant motion.

 “What are you doing?” I said sharply, Lucas was holding onto part of my shadows, I felt it. His touch was cold, dangerous, evil. “Stop!” I screeched at him. At once the shadows screamed towards him, a cloud of death, black swirling shapes with teeth and claws and spike and horns, all manner of pretty demons fell upon the lonely figure of Lucas. I felt his mind falter, nothing but terror, I pushed him out of my head, I let go of my tie to him.

  He was screaming, rolling around on the hard floor of my rooms, I watched him, waiting for my feelings of vulnerability and the touch of that cold hand to fade into the depths of my memory. I wanted to kill him. I almost let myself reach back into my shadows and grasp the little flickering delicate flame of his life and crush it. He sat up with a gasp and my desire for his blood disappeared.

 “Never do that again.” He voice was a rasp, and he stared at shadows that weren’t there. He closed his eyes and held his head in his hands, exposing his neck; I sighed, still looking for the easy kill.  He sat like that, curled in on himself in the middle of the floor, flinching now and then, silently for about twenty minuets. I sat on my bed and watched him, feeling the anger of the shadows I tried to calm them, assure them he would never return, they swirled calmed for now, but waited restless in the back of my mind.

 “I don’t plan to,” my voice held more venom than I wanted but I felt violated, like he’d touched my soul. He nodded to the floor and sighed. “I’m sorry, they – I, over reacted, but you should never have done that, you have no idea how it felt,” he looked up at me sharply,

 “No idea?” he raised his eyebrows and stared at me, “You held my soul Am, I felt it, like a cold fist shoved through my heart, I felt powerless; cold. I’ve never felt such cold! And… and, those – shadows, those things, I… I -” He lost himself again and ducked his head down, shivering. I felt the prickles of guilt, so unusual for me; I never consider how it must feel.