“Okay, fine,” I tell her, standing up even as nerves drop the entire bottom out of my stomach. “But if I set your hair on fire, I don’t want to hear about it.”
“I am a witch, you know. If you set my hair on fire, I’ll just grow it back.” She grins, moving to stand about three feet from me. “Now, come on. Arm up.”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath, then blow it out slowly as I do what she requests. “Now what?”
“I want you to try to open yourself up so that I can send some power your way.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Just breathe. And try to reach out for me.” She holds her arm out straight at me, but where mine is palm up, hers is palm down. “Okay, Grace. Lower your guards and reach.”
I have absolutely no idea what that means, but I figure, What the hell. The worst that will happen is I’ll look like a total dork and hey, everyone here has already seen me do that at least once.
So I take another deep breath and then try to do what Macy asked me to—I reach for her, trying to will a tiny spark of her magic into me.
“Do you feel anything?” she asks, and her eyes are glowing just a little, in a way I’ve never seen before.
“No. I’m sorry.”
She smiles. “Don’t be sorry. Just try again.”
I do, and this time I try really hard, but still nothing happens.
“Third time’s the charm,” Macy says with a grin. Then asks, “Feel it?”
She seems so sure, I can’t help wondering if I’m just missing something. “I don’t know if I do or not,” I answer after trying for several seconds to feel something. Anything.
“You don’t,” Hudson tells me, not even bothering to look up from the book he’s been reading all afternoon.
“How do you know?” I demand.
“Because I’m in your head and I don’t feel anything? Plus, I have power and I know what you’re supposed to feel, and that’s definitely not happening right now.”
“Of course it’s not,” I whine. “I’m destined to live my life on the side of a museum—as the world’s most unaccomplished waterspout.”
A bubble of panic forms in my chest as I realize everyone is staring at me, varying degrees of pity in their eyes. Well, except Hudson. For once, my complete humiliation appears to not be of any interest to him.
Probably sensing my frustration, Jaxon tries to tease me out of my growing anger. “Hey, don’t worry. We can figure this out another day.” He smiles encouragingly. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
I sigh. Maybe he’s right. This paranormal stuff is all new to me. Maybe it’s perfectly natural that I can’t do even the most basic gargoyle things yet.
Hudson sighs, carefully closing his book and setting it on the cocktail table near his chair in the corner. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, but this is going to be.” He stretches like a cat, his hands so far above his head that the bottom of his T-shirt lifts up to expose those ridiculous abs again.
He catches me looking and raises a brow, right before he says, “You can do this; it’s just clear you need someone with a little more…expertise.”
Screw the candle. My face feels like it’s on fire.
“Grace, are we doing this or not?” Macy asks.
“Not,” I answer. “I can’t figure out what to do.”
“Nobody knows how at the beginning,” Hudson says as he walks over to stand a foot to my side. “You can do this. I promise.”
I turn to face him more fully. “You can’t promise that. You don’t know—”
He gives me a soft smile. “I do know.”
“How?” I ask, my voice breaking.
“Because I won’t let you fail.” He nods to Macy. “Tell her to try again.”
I hold his gaze, then take a deep breath. I swivel my head toward Macy. “Hudson says we should try once more, Mace,” I tell my cousin. “And then I’m calling it quits.”
“O-kay,” she says, clearly not sure if she should be glad Hudson is encouraging me to try again or not. “Once more.” And then her eyes do that weird glowy thing as she sends another burst of power my way.
“Ready?” Hudson asks, a grin slowly spreading across his face that sets butterflies loose in my stomach.
“Ready for what?”
He snaps his fingers. “For this.”
52