Awakening Book One of the Trust Series - By J. E. Swift Page 0,91

the sound of her breathing and the steady movement of her chest with each inhale and exhale. Her mind held the image of the bare structure that she currently laid entombed in. Beneath all the sheetrock and concrete, stood steel, large indestructible pillars of steel that held the old warehouse together. Those supports became her focus, and she just stood there imagining them bending, breaking, cracking under her will. Her eyes opened at the sound of the creaking, noticing that sheetrock was already beginning to fall around them. She knew without a doubt that the building was severely compromised and would collapse as intended. At this point, they would only have moments to leave if they were lucky.

She looked squarely into Lionel’s eyes as it dawned on him what Caitlyn did. She jumped onto Declan, praying that she did not just make a lethal mistake and sent one final blast hurling at his old mentor before transporting Declan and herself out of the quickly weakening building. With only a millisecond to consider where to send them, she could only let her instincts take over.

She was surprised when she found it brought them to the forest clearing, where Declan had taken her while training for teleportation.

They hit with a hard crash, the mossy forest floor only softening the landing slightly. For a moment, Caitlyn was disorientated and wondered why she could not move. It was then, she realized that Declan was right on top of her, his weight holding her down. She rolled out from underneath him, both grunting as they moved. She examined his body, searching for any signs of serious injury.

“Are you hurt? We should get you to a healer.”

Declan groaned, shaking his head no, and sat up slowly. His face was grim, the seriousness of what happened obviously weighing heavily on his mind. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. “Physically? I will be hurting for a few days from Lionel, but overall I’ll be alright.”

Caitlyn nodded, kneeling down beside him. Her hands shook violently as she reached out to him, the events of the afternoon obviously bothering her. He made contact with her first, stilling her hands with his own. She took a deep breath, in hopes of calming herself down. It was no use. She looked down towards the ground as a large tear ran down her cheek; the first of what she was sure would be many. Caitlyn felt ashamed that she had been so strong only moments before and now she was breaking down, the enormity of what just occurred hitting her. Her life had come crashing down around her; again.

Declan lifted her chin and raised her face to look into his. He wiped the tear from her cheekbone with his thumb as he spoke to her reassuringly. “It’s okay. We’re alive. That is all that matters. You got us out in time.”

Her mind raced with what she could have done differently. “I should have been quicker to return. I should have done more, I should have-”

His finger landed on her lips, effectively silencing her. He lifted himself and her to their feet, and he stared into her eyes. The voice he used was stern but still caring. “You did everything you could do. Lionel probably did not even get out alive.”

“We can’t be certain of that.”

He shook his head. “No, we can’t. But nevertheless, you were amazing.”

People were always trying to convince her of that, when she felt anything but. When her only reply was continued silence, he pressed his lips together in a thin line. His voice, that was usually so filled with confidence and intensity, took on a softness that she had never heard before. “What is it going to take to convince you of that?”

Caitlyn did not have an answer to his question. She noticed him wince slightly. “Are you sure you are going to be okay?”

Her eyes finally left his gaze as she did another quick assessment on Declan’s body. She had arrived just in time to see Lionel attacking Declan. Dust now marred his usually perfectly messy dark hair, and his shirt, which was now wrinkled and tattered, was ripped on the upper right arm. Her fingers traced several cuts on him that would mend easily with a healer, before her hand rested gently on his arm. She was amazed that was the only physical signs of the assault. She knew Lionel’s attack was brutal, relentless, and excruciating for Declan. She also knew it could have ended