Firefox

“He won’t be down long,” Sparrow warned her. And before the words were out, Norman rose again.

“Impressive.” Norman tilted his head, bones popping. “But you haven’t had much practice, and I’ve done nothing but practice while I sat in prison thinking about all the things I was going to do to you when I got out.”

“Gaia, release me. Chloe!” Sparrow barked.

But she was no longer the woman he knew.

Chapter 19

Chloe knew Sparrow was her protector. He’d fight Norman, to the death if necessary, to keep her safe. And Chloe loved him for that.

But this was her fight.

Norman had ruined her life. He’d been mentally and emotionally abusive, and then physically abusive. He’d left her with no self-esteem or sense of self-worth. He’d left her no choice but to run, and then he’d tracked her down and made her life hell anyway.

And then Norman had found her here. When she’d opened the door to him, thoughts of all her powers fled. The fact that Sparrow called her goddess left her mind. For a brief moment, she was just Chloe again. Scared, abused, stalked Chloe.

The hopelessness she’d felt when she saw his face had been like a physical blow.

And Chloe wasn’t ever going to feel that way again.

Norman drew back and jerked forward, a wave of heat slamming into Chloe and catching her off guard. She gasped, but righted herself without even having to take a step backward. She remembered the lessons Sparrow had taught her during their time here. Unfortunately, they’d been more about calling the animals, feeling her power and using it in small ways than using it as a weapon to defend herself. They hadn’t gotten that far yet.

But you are Gaia, Sparrow’s voice sounded inside her head. You already know how.

She glanced at Sparrow, who nodded and stepped back. He wore a slight grin, a confident one. As if he knew she had everything well in hand.

/>

Chloe never had really trusted herself, but she trusted Sparrow, and he believed in her.

That would be enough.

She drew energy into herself with a great breath, pulling it in from all around in and compacting it. With every part of herself she pushed, sending it toward Norman in a narrowly focused bolt.

Norman flew off his feet and, this time, backward out the door. Chloe followed.

He shot back, a bolt hitting her to the right side of her chest, high on her shoulder, burning a hole into the white gown she wore. The pain was incredible, but instead of dropping her to her knees, it angered her. It fortified her.

She drew in a breath and became aware of the sky darkening, the once blue sky now an ominous gray.

Because of me. I’m doing that. As the pain in her shoulder intensified, the wind whipped against her, blowing her gown first one way and then the other.

Sparrow’s voice again. You are.

“I want that child!” Norman was forced to shout, the wind stealing the words as he said them.

“No,” Chloe said softly, but it was a booming sound that seemed to fall down from the sky in every direction. She pushed again, and sent him flying at least forty feet backward. He slammed into a tall tree and rolled down the trunk to crumple into a heap at its base.

She didn’t run, but was in front of him in an instant, merely by thinking it. Chloe sensed Sparrow always just a few feet behind her. As she looked down at Norman, she realized her miscalculation. He flew into the air on his own power this time, and circled her, blasting her from every direction.

Chloe sensed Sparrow charging Norman and told him, with a thought, to stop. She knew she didn’t need him to rescue her, and communicated that to him without speaking or looking at him.

She stumbled, dropped to one knee, but the pain of the blasts almost lifted her up in a righteous fury as she shot to her feet and pushed with everything she had in Norman’s direction, the strain of it giving her a sense of being drained, emptied as her vision went white.

The moment it was done, she felt energy flowing back into her. And when her sight cleared, she saw Sparrow standing over Norman, gazing down at him almost in surprise.

A hole in the center of his chest still smoked, but Norman wasn’t dead. He growled in pain, fingers curled into claws above his chest as if the pain were so unbearable he couldn’t bear to touch. “You bitch,” he spat as Chloe approached to look down at him, too. The hole was slowly closing. Norman was healing.