Forbidden Gift [Derek Hale]

Chapter 30: Illuminated

It was day four of the plan. Everything was going accordingly.

Day One- Analyze. They had to assess the situation before any real measures could be taken.

Day Two- Plan. Once they analyzed, they could plan.

Day Three- Negotiate. Liz knew her mother would never fall for that. It was just nice to add in an extra day from time to time.

Day Four- Practice. Liz had to practice her skills, both physical and mental.

Everything was falling perfectly into place. At the rate Derek and Liz were heading, it seemed like Liz would be keeping her powers. She knew she didn't have long. Liwahs and Diruts can only be kept away so long before more start to show up. Once, if Liz even did, rid of her parents, she would have two weeks, maybe three, before another Liwah showed up at her door wanting to take her power.

She hit her arm against the punching bag over and over again, bruising her forearm. Fighting through the pain, she hit her arm again and again. Liz's speed increased and so did her anger. Every emotion she had been feeling was being released on the bag.

Her arm swelled slightly, hindering her from hitting as hard, but she kept going. Derek walked over to her, arms crossed, eyeing her arm.

"What?" she said, hitting the bag still, sweat dripping down her face.

"You're going to get hurt."

"I need to practice."

"Why don't you switch arms? Give that one a break."

"No, no, this is my stronger arm. I need it."

"You keep beating it up like that, and it won't be your strong arm anymore." He walked away, keeping his arms folded over his chest.

He sat on the small bench, watching Liz closely. She felt Derek's eyes watching her every move. She hit a few more times before turning around and yelling, "Would you knock it off?!"

"Knock what off?"

"I can feel you eyeing me down, Derek. I need to concentrate."

"Just take a break, Elizabeth!"

"Derek, don't you ever call me that. I hate that name."

"Why? It's the name you were born with."

"Exactly. My mother picked it out. I want no part in her life nor will she have any part in mine. Got it?"

"You are so blindsided. Your mother cares. I know you don't see it, but I do. She would give anything to not be who she is or do what her inner self makes her do."

"I'm sure," Liz said, focusing back on the punching bag.

"Whatever, Liz. Do us all a favor and focus on your mental strength. Looks like you need it."

She turned around to confront him, but he had vanished. He was no longer at the small bench or even in the room. Liz collapsed to the floor in front of the swinging bag. Covering her arm with her opposite hand, she began healing it. The pain eased, as did the swelling.

"Me? Work on my mental strength?" she said aloud to herself. "Who does he think he is? And another thing, who calls me Elizabeth? Nobody. Only my witch of a mother." She gritted her teeth at the thought of even calling her a mother.

Liz stared at the bench, seeing the water bottle. Her mouth craved it, but her legs were too tired to move. "Maybe, one time wouldn't hurt," she said aloud again.

Sticking out her hand in midair, she focused all her mental capacity on the bottle. She twisted her hand, acting as if she were picking it up. Her eyes lit up as the bottle shook back and forth before lifting from the bench. Bringing her arm closer to her body, the bottle floated towards her, landing perfectly in her lap.