Waking the Witch (Otherworld 11)

"Kayla, please. I can explain. I didn't do this. I'd never--"

The woman hit the gas. I lurched forward. Adam caught me. I pushed him away, but the car was already too far gone to catch.

"Savannah," Adam said, reaching for me.

I circled around him and headed back toward the Jeep. I passed it and kept walking. Adam jogged after me.

"For a sick woman, you're running away pretty good," he said.

"I'm not--"

"Running away?" He caught my arm and pulled me up short. "You're running as fast as you can, which, thankfully, isn't very fast." He didn't even try for a smile. "I know how bad you feel right now, but--"

"Do you? Do you really? That little girl finally got exactly what she needed, and now she's lost it."

"You tried to make sure that didn't happen--"

"But apparently I didn't try hard enough, did I?"

"What the hell else could you have done?"

I didn't answer that. Couldn't. I could only feel it, in my gut, guilt blazing through common sense. I should have stopped Leah sooner. Anticipated this final attack.

"Stayed away," I murmured. "That's what I should have done. I should never have gotten involved in this damned case in the first place. All I did was screw it up. Got Michael killed. Ruined Tiffany's daughters' lives. Ruined Paula's. Ruined Kayla's." I gave a bitter laugh. "Par for the course, isn't it? Everything I touch turns to dust. Everything dies. Everyone."

"Don't be--"

"Melodramatic? Am I? Too bad, because I'm feeling a little melodramatic right now, and I'm sick to death of pretending I don't ruin everything I touch. I got my mother killed--"

"You had nothing to do with--"

"Yes, I did. They came for her, and I was there, playing sick, wanting a day home from school. She would have escaped if they hadn't grabbed me. I got her captured, and that got her killed. Then Paige takes me in. Am I grateful? Do I smarten up and behave for her? No, I just kept plowing along, turning the Coven against her, getting her house burned down, getting her run out of town, ruining her reputation, killing her dream of leading the Coven--"

"Do you think she cares? If it wasn't for you, she wouldn't have Lucas. She'd gladly have traded her old life for him. You know that. You didn't--"

"I killed my father."

His mouth opened. Closed.

"Can't argue with that one, can you?" I said.

"No, I'm just trying to figure out what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not. Your father died when the house collapsed. Maybe that collapse started with your magic, but you certainly didn't kill--"

"Don't lie to me!"

Sparks sizzled from my fingertips. My hair snapped with electricity. I stepped toward Adam, but he stood firm, holding my gaze, not even flinching when the sparks singed his shirt.

"I know what happened that night," I said. "I've pretended not to know what happened because that was what you all wanted. I lashed out at my father. I threw him into a wall. I killed him. I know that. I've always known that."

The look on his face then--the sympathy and the pain--was almost enough to make me break down completely, and when he reached for me, I imagined myself collapsing against him, how good it would feel--eight years of pain washing away. But I couldn't. I stepped back, teeth gritting, sparks flying.

"Go away."

"No, Savannah."