Shadowed (Unbound, Book 2)

Chapter Twenty

I started towards the exit, wanting to flee before getting pegged for vandalism. A crack sounding like the side of an iceberg breaking off stopped me. It echoed around the bathroom against the tiled floor and cement walls, trapped from escaping into the halls. I turned back, uneasiness in my veins. Nervous anticipation held my breath in a tight-fisted grasp.

The web of glass that had cut into my palm spread until it reached its frame, the noise deafening. It shattered at the center, flying outwards and then, like a cloud being vacuumed into a bubble, pulled inwards. Glass flew towards me. Millions of slivers aimed at my face. Wind blasted my hair back and pushed against my skin, chilling me to the bone.

I raised my arms and shut my eyes tight. I tried to scream, but my breath stuck in my throat, coming out as a strangled moan. It was as useless as shrieking into the edge of a tornado, every syllable swallowed by the roar of destruction.

Just as quickly, a calm filled the room.

The winds died and the noise faded. But I was never more on edge, aware of every cell of my body as it vibrated with the energies expelled from what was happening around me. Opening one eye at a time, I looked around. My jaw dropped. My eyes went from tight to wide. My breath hissed out between my teeth, leaving my body feeling light as air, almost like I could float. It would be just as unreal as what surrounded me if I did.

The mirror was broken, every piece out of its place in the frame above the sinks, but not one fell to hit the floor. Shards hovered in front of me, broken but reformed. A translucent stake, too sharp to ever grasp, was pointed right at my face. It was so close, I was afraid to blink or my eyelashes would be sliced to half their natural length.

I took a deep breath and stepped back.

My eyes drooped in slow motion and then opened wide once more. The glass swayed, back and forth, but never forward. The door rattled behind me as someone tried to enter. I jumped, turning. At least, if the stake drove forward to meet its target, I wouldn't see it coming. I hoped that meant minimal pain.

How was I supposed to explain this? Oh, I'm sorry—magic is real. Could, uh... could you explain it to me? Please? Right. Padded cell, anyone? I held my breath, hoping whoever was there would go away.

The door quit rattling. I exhaled, taking extra breaths to calm my nerves, closed my eyes, and twisted back around. Again, opening my eyes one at a time, my jaw dropped. My hands fell to my sides, and my palm throbbed in protest. As unreal as it had been, it became even more impossible.

I'm not crazy. Magic is real. Magic exists.

I can do magic?

Like an explosion filmed for television set in slow reverse, the shards began retreating. Crystal wind chimes blowing with a gentle breeze tried to soothe my ears. My mouth went dry. Every sliver, every glistening edge reflecting light from above... It all nestled back in the mirror's frame.

A pop, as soft but as distinct as the seal on juice in a glass bottle, sounded. I took a step forward, unbelieving, and then another. Once I stood less than a foot away, I leaned forward, nearly touching the mirror with my nose.

This isn't real.

But, when I raised my hand to feel the flawless surface, I knew it was. It had to be. How else did the cut on my palm leave blood as evidence? I broke the mirror, shattering it to pieces. Then I fixed it?

A distant laugh floated through the room, a cackle of unfriendly chills.

I dropped my hand and stepped back. One, two... Starting slow, my feet increased their pace as shock sped the beat of my heart. A tingling filled my entire body. If the wall didn't stop me, I would've retreated until I was free to turn and run. Fast. Far. Anywhere but here.