Animals ✔

Chapter 11

When I finally open my eyes, I'm horrified by the state of the living room. The white drapes have been singed off almost entirely, and all that's left of them is charred black lace. The window is a spider web of cracks.

Worse still, there's a gaping hole scorched into the wall where the TV was once mounted, a crude new window to the trees outside the house, and little pieces of melted plastic and glass debris are littered throughout the room. The couch is back several feet, having slammed into the wall and the coffee table, much like the rest of the room, is in pieces.

Pulling away from Tiberius, I gain back some of my equilibrium. My unease grows with every piece of broken or charred furniture. Cringing, I keep Tiberius's hand gripped tightly in my own.

"I blew up the TV?"

*

"Try again, Clara. You're barely even making an effort."

I glower at the statuesque she-wolf. She towers around 6' with a smooth olive complexion and smouldering hazel eyes. There's a grim expression etched permanently onto her face, as though she'd rather be anywhere else. Not to mention the fact that she's slowly driving me insane.

We're at an outdoor gun range.

Tiberius dropped me off here an hour ago, saying he had to attend to 'other business' and he'd 'be back soon.' I scoff at the thought. Traitor.

So what if I'd accidentally blown up Jon's living room? I'm perfectly capable of learning to control myself without a babysitter.

The she-wolf, otherwise known as Nora, glares at me. "Are you even paying attention?"

I shrug. "There's a lot on my mind."

"Well," she says intensely, "there's going to be a lot more death on your hands if you don't learn how to control your power. So I suggest you smarten up and get back to work."

I scowl at her, exasperated. "It's not that easy. I can't just start conjuring up fireballs out of thin air, that's not how it works."

Nora sneers. "I'm not here to coddle you. Learn some self-discipline." She pauses, "I'm going to go set up inside and when I come back I expect you to be able to hit the damn targets." Set up? I don't question it though; instead I glare at her back as she turns toward the main building, cursing her under my breath.

"Ugh!" I throw my hands up in frustration, turning back to my target just on time to see it burst into flames. Wide eyed, I check to see that Nora is already inside the building before counting myself lucky she didn't bear witness.

Apparently it is that easy.

I limp a few feet away so that I'm standing in front of the next target. I've never been to a gun range before, but it strikes me as a distinctly poor idea to have someone like me train in an area that is almost entirely wooded.

Like most places in Frisco, the forest stretches just beyond the chain link fence that encases the gun range. The targets in this section are maybe 50 feet away and each target runs parallel to a matching wooden bench and table hidden just under a wooden awning attached to the main building.

Leaning against the table, I glare at the target in front of me. It's so much easier to control fire than it is to create it—that's why I carry my lighter around with me, well that, and Charlie gave it to me. I didn't think to take it with me when we left this morning.

I take a deep breath, trying to give myself a mental pep talk. So what if you've spent your entire life running from your ability? You can do this.