Lightning Game (GhostWalkers #17) -Christine Feehan Page 0,121

issue a challenge to the squirrel men. There was a quietness in him. He was like the mountains. Calm. Peaceful. But rile him, and he would bring the wrath of centuries down on you. He was every predator rolled into one. He would hunt them, and he had their scent.

She was already on the ground, shaking with the effort to contain the energy swirling around her. Very slowly, with care, she passed her palm over her left leg. Her muscles were like Jell-O. It felt odd to fix her own body, to bring up that heat inside her and pour it over her damaged muscles, shape them, firm them and make them strong again. She did the same with her right leg and then was on her feet and running.

Rubin. Her hero. Her man. Maybe even her fiancé for real. She wanted to believe there was a way for her to have a home and a family. She hadn’t believed it until she’d gone to the Sawyers’ with him. She’d actually been there all evening and not once had she had a problem. In time, with Rubin, maybe she could learn to control the energy that rushed to her.

She sprinted to the clearing. The clouds overhead swirled in an ominous display of power. Colors of purple, gray and black were stacked from bottom to top and they lit up over and over as lightning zigzagged in forks through the cloud, looking for a way out. The lead stroke was going to break free and come to ground, seeking a target. In a few more minutes the wind would have driven the clouds away from them, but it was too late. The energy in her body was too strong and too attractive to the lead stroke. It would come straight to her.

She made it to the clearing just as the charge around her built to an astonishing level and she knew the strike was coming. Lifting her arms, she released the energy, allowing it to meet the lead stroke, so that the two charges detonated into a blast of jagged lightning that lit the skies and sent thunder rolling, shaking the ground. She’d forgotten what it felt like to have that tremendous release after holding in so much energy. All the anger. All the fury. Even fear and sorrow. All emotion had energy, and those things found her when she was with others, weighing her down until she had to do this, stand in the clearing, arms outstretched, welcoming the lightning.

Jonquille let the lightning play over her for several strikes, washing away the drug in her system completely so she could think clearly again. She sent the lightning to meet the storm, great jagged spears that pierced the black and purple clouds so that they opened up and poured a cleansing rain down on her. The rain was warm, each drop on her skin a welcome purging.

Finally, the wind shifted the clouds away from her and she sank down into the grass, exhausted as she always was after a meeting with lightning. She lay with her hands behind her head, a makeshift pillow, waiting for the men to approach her, hoping they weren’t so afraid by that little display that they chose to drug her again.

“Are you all right, Jonquille?” Sean asked.

He was first, of course. She should have known. The man had courage. She had a lot of respect for him, and that scared her just a little. She didn’t want to like him. “Yes, just tired. Weak. It will pass. Give me a few minutes and I can walk.” Her voice was scratchy, another by-product of using her strange talent.

“Are you thirsty?”

Naturally, Sean would notice. He was that good of a guy. She really didn’t want to see him in that light. “Yes. Water would be good.”

He disappeared and came back right away with a canteen filled with water. “Spring water,” he told her as if she might suspect the drug was in the water.

She wouldn’t have cared. Her throat hurt. Propping herself up on one elbow, she allowed the cool water to run down her throat a little bit at a time, easing the terrible burn. It felt wonderful. She managed a smile. “Thanks, Sean. I really needed this.”

“Watching that light show was pretty incredible.”

“Whitney wasn’t so appreciative. Did you read that part in my file? I was one of his greatest failures.”

Sean nodded gravely. “Yes. I saw the word stamped over and over in big red letters