Born Wicked

XLI

I tumble through the doors at a break neck pace and then stumble to an abrupt stop.

Georgia is behind the front desk shuffling through returns when I run in gasping for air.

"Jayme!" she exclaims, noting what I'm sure is a look of pure terror on my face. "What's wrong?"

I heave for a moment, trying to expand my lungs and slow my heart rate.

"You have to help me," I whisper. "The entire second and third floor are frozen and I don't know how to fix it."

Her eyes go wide. "What do you mean? Where did the water come from? What happened?"

I frown. "Water?" I mumble dumbly. Then it dawns on me and laughter bubbles up from somewhere deep and twisted inside me. "No, Georgia, not frozen like that. It's like I hit pause and everything stopped."

"You mean, telekinetically?" she gasps. "Jayme, I'm not a Spiritus. I don't know what to do."

"Just, please," I beg. "Help me."

She sets the books down on the desk and ushers me out of the library. We head up to my classroom and Georgia surveys the scene somberly. She eyes Ethan and Julian, in fighting stance, Ethan's fist suspended ready to strike. "What happened here?" she asks drily.

I sigh. "They were arguing. Fighting over me, I guess. I tried to get them to stop and when Ethan took a swing I screamed at him and everything froze."

She nods. "I figured it might have been something like that. Your emotions were running too high." She gestures around the room. "The whole floor's like this?"

I cringe. "And the second floor, too."

Her eyebrows soar. "Impressive."

"Wait," I say, "How are you not frozen?"

She shrugs, "I'd just come up from the office when you ran in. Lucky me," she adds sarcastically.

I roll my eyes. "You aren't helping. I thought you were here to help me."

She exhales loudly. "I have no idea how this works. I would assume you would do the reverse of what you did. But you don't have the training or skill yet to do it as powerfully just because you want to. I would imagine your emotions being so out of control is how this even happened."

I mull that over. "Okay," I say slowly, "If I'm not strong enough—"

"You're strong enough," she interrupts me wryly.

I roll my eyes. "Georgia! Now is not the time." She chuckles as I mutter, "Assuming that I'm not trained enough to undo this on a grand scale, maybe I could focus on one person?"

She sobers as she considers it. She nods. "Makes sense. Concentrate on one. Who?"

I point. "Julian. He's the only one I can wake who already knows what I can do. He'll fix this. He's a Spiritus, he'll know what to do. Besides, he can get out of the way for when Ethan wakes up with that swing."

Georgia nods. "Let's do it. What do you need?"

I shrug. "I dunno. I'll focus on him for a while and see what happens?"

Ten minutes go by and I have sweat beaded on my forehead and I'm seeing double, with no improvement. Not a twitch.

"We don't have time for this," Georgia complains. "Down stairs is still moving and you've got about thirty minutes left until second period. Someone is gonna notice."

I frown. "Hit me."

She barks an incredulous laugh. "What? What for?"

"I need emotion," I explain. I shrug. "I just thought if you hit me, I'd get upset and maybe this would work."

She shakes her head. "Negative. I'm not hitting you. Want me to start a fire?" she asks, pulling her lighter from her pocket. "That usually gets you going."

I stare at her deadpan. "Be serious, Georgia. You and I both know the fire alarms will sound or the sprinkler system will engage or something."

She looks crestfallen. "Oh, right."

"Fucking pyro," I mutter under my breath.

"I heard that," she announces loudly. "Well, Jayme, what are you gonna do? You need emotion. Got any ideas?"

I cringe. "I may have one, but you better not give me any shit for it."

She angles her head to the side and regards me quizzically. Pushing her glasses up higher on her nose she sniffs, "Well, whatever it is, let's get on with it." She hops up onto our table and perches on the edge, her feet dangling.

I duck under Ethan's outstretched arm and stand in front of Julian. I gently place my hands on his chest and I hear Georgia gasp. Shooting her a withering glare, I focus my attention back to Julian. His face, his hair, his eyes. Shit, I'm too short and he can't bend. I snag a chair and place it in front of him and step up onto it.

I tower over him, but not by a whole lot. Enough that I have to stoop. I brush my fingers through his hair and place the softest kiss against his lips. Electric fire surges through me. Interesting. Even with him stiff and immobile, I still react to the mere contact of his skin.

Respond, the command whispers through my addled mind. I press more firmly into him, his lips unyielding. I haven't kissed him, or him me since last week, yet I miss it. I miss him. I miss his answering passion. His urgency. His need. I'm bereft of satisfaction. This is wrong. He should be clutching at me and pulling at me and pushing me to my limit. I should be adrift by now.

I lick my tongue, just the merest pink tip against hismouth. I taste mint. I smell his spice and heat. A ripple at first, and thenI'm ablaze. Suddenly and ferociously, fire ignites in my chest and spreads tomy limbs, nearly dissolving them into liquid. It's incendiary. Oh, Julian,respond, I think. Please...