The New Magic - The Revelation of Jonah McAllister - Landon Wark (bill gates best books TXT) 📗

allowed the death grip she had on the normalcy of a recent fix to relax a little. She needed a little clarity and some memory.

The experience of being directly in his path when the kid had freaked out was still fresh in her mind, but it was quickly being eroded by the crap flowing through her veins.

It had been a powerful experience, if only because the kid, with all the power of the unknown, evoked an almost hysterical fear. Both in her and the others inside that room. None of them knew the full depths of what was going on in that shack next to the woods. In the aftermath of the scene she had glanced around the room, trying to gauge exactly what position everyone was taking on the matter. Clay had seemed more frustrated than anything, maybe hoping that something was actually going to come from the argument they had been having before she intruded. Ezra had been suspiciously silent and she guessed that he was trying to work the matter through. Paul and Jenny had seemed less willing to say anything, the former still worked up from his own rant and the latter just avoiding any conflict. There was an almost an air of incredulity with them

Releasing a quick exhale she ran a finger over the screen of her phone.

Afterwards, when they had all retreated to their rooms, all she had been left with was the knowledge that she had brought a terrible burden with her to the doorstep of this house. There might not be a whole lot she could do about that one burden, but there might be something she could do about another. She could convince them all to tow the line.

You are not special...

She left the ellipsis points for a moment, deleted them and then replaced them, tapping her fingers on the bedspread again. Was it better to state the point or let the reader's brain fill it in on their own?

It was a good counterpoint to where she knew Paul was headed and she nodded in agreement with herself before adding:

But you can learn.

The words disappeared almost instantly and were replaced with:

But if I can learn then so can you.

Hemming and hawing for several moments Carmen decided to circle back to it later. Inspiration felt great when it flowed... magical even (if that was a word that held any metaphorical meaning anymore) but few people appreciated the sheer amount of hammering and wedging that was required sometimes after that flow dissolved.

She thought back to the way they had discussed the matter at the fairgrounds and tried to dig up the motivations for why Clay and Paul were butting heads. As Jenny had articulated there was more... much more, and the kid holding it back was supremely frustrating. Carmen wanted to learn too, it was an exhilarating fount of possibilities. To think oneself chosen for this by a higher being and then to have someone, some... atheist, stand in the way.

"You okay?" Clay's face appeared around her door frame.

"Yup," she replied without looking up.

Clayton was a good man, but overly worried about the feminine around him like any "good" man did. She couldn't fully understand if it was because she was a woman or because he was worried about her addiction... Or something else altogether. It was both annoying and endearing at the same time.

"So... what do you think of that whole debacle?" he asked.

"It wasn't entirely not my fault," she said without emotion. "But, if I could get by without doing the things I need to do, I would."

"Yeah. Did you hear any of the row before you came in? I don't know if we can get Paul to drop the—"

"I'm kind of busy here," she cut him off. "Can we talk in the morning?"

"Just wanted to bounce the opinion of you. I mean, I agree with him, but I'm not sure about forcing it on people like Paul and Jenny."

"Forcing is always the wrong term," Carmen replied as her finger traced another sentence.

Power requires learning. Learning requires growth. Growth requires admitting you don't know everything.

"Alllll I need is a few days..." Her brain tried playing catch-up with her mouth as it devoted most of its resources to writing. "Annnnd forcing will no longer be necessary."

Clay scoffed. "You think you can resolve all that in a few days?"

"Bitch," she said, channelling some of the twitter conversations she had seen pop up around a couple of her articles, "I have at least three right wing terror incidents indirectly tied to my writing."

She could hear Clay's brow furrowing. "So... that's a good thing?"

Carmen's reply fell away as she scrawled over her phone's screen. After several moments, Clay grew frustrated and walked away, leaving her with the feeling of having finally accomplished something.

The long night, the roll of the hours and the passing of the stars through the night sky was lost on Bill Hernandez as he moved like a ghost through the halls and rooms of the home he and his wife had once shared. Like a caged animal he paced around the confines of his self-imposed prison. Outside was too dangerous, with the fucking witches running wild. He felt the overpowering need to do something about it, to do anything that would get Jenny out of there, but that need was blunted by the inborn need for self-preservation. It was his goddamn duty as a husband, as a man to protect his wife... to protect his home.

They had taken that responsibility from him.

Jenny had taken his financial responsibility from him.

And he had failed his son.

He rubbed his black rimmed eyes in a futile attempt to force some sort of lucidity into his sleep deprived brain. A memory surfaced as it had been lately.

We can take him to non-Catholic local place.