I do, and this time I try really hard, but still nothing happens.
“Third time’s the charm,” Macy says with a grin. Then asks, “Feel it?”
She seems so sure, I can’t help wondering if I’m just missing something. “I don’t know if I do or not,” I answer after trying for several seconds to feel something. Anything.
“You don’t,” Hudson tells me, not even bothering to look up from the book he’s been reading all afternoon.
“How do you know?” I demand.
“Because I’m in your head and I don’t feel anything? Plus, I have power and I know what you’re supposed to feel, and that’s definitely not happening right now.”
“Of course it’s not,” I whine. “I’m destined to live my life on the side of a museum—as the world’s most unaccomplished waterspout.”
A bubble of panic forms in my chest as I realize everyone is staring at me, varying degrees of pity in their eyes. Well, except Hudson. For once, my complete humiliation appears to not be of any interest to him.
Probably sensing my frustration, Jaxon tries to tease me out of my growing anger. “Hey, don’t worry. We can figure this out another day.” He smiles encouragingly. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
I sigh. Maybe he’s right. This paranormal stuff is all new to me. Maybe it’s perfectly natural that I can’t do even the most basic gargoyle things yet.
Hudson sighs, carefully closing his book and setting it on the cocktail table near his chair in the corner. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, but this is going to be.” He stretches like a cat, his hands so far above his head that the bottom of his T-shirt lifts up to expose those ridiculous abs again.
He catches me looking and raises a brow, right before he says, “You can do this; it’s just clear you need someone with a little more…expertise.”
Screw the candle. My face feels like it’s on fire.
“Grace, are we doing this or not?” Macy asks.
“Not,” I answer. “I can’t figure out what to do.”
“Nobody knows how at the beginning,” Hudson says as he walks over to stand a foot to my side. “You can do this. I promise.”
I turn to face him more fully. “You can’t promise that. You don’t know—”
He gives me a soft smile. “I do know.”
“How?” I ask, my voice breaking.
“Because I won’t let you fail.” He nods to Macy. “Tell her to try again.”
I hold his gaze, then take a deep breath. I swivel my head toward Macy. “Hudson says we should try once more, Mace,” I tell my cousin. “And then I’m calling it quits.”
“O-kay,” she says, clearly not sure if she should be glad Hudson is encouraging me to try again or not. “Once more.” And then her eyes do that weird glowy thing as she sends another burst of power my way.
“Ready?” Hudson asks, a grin slowly spreading across his face that sets butterflies loose in my stomach.
“Ready for what?”
He snaps his fingers. “For this.”
52
Come on Baby,
Light My Candle
Just like that, there’s a weird feeling deep inside me. A spark of heat, of light, of energy that is both familiar and completely foreign at the same time.
“Go ahead,” Hudson tells me, his voice little more than a whisper. “Reach for it.”
So I do, hand outstretched and everything about me open wide. And then it’s there, right there inside me. Arrowing into me. Lighting me up from the inside. Making every nerve ending in my body come alive like I’ve never felt before.
“Do you feel it now?” Macy asks, voice raised excitedly.
“I do,” I tell her, because this has to be it. This brilliant feeling that’s warm and bright and airy and light has magic written all over it.
“Good,” Macy continues. “Now hold it for a minute, get used to it. Feel it moving through your body.”
I do as she says, letting the warmth and the light burn through me.
“What do I do now?” I ask, because while it feels amazing to have this feeling inside me, it also feels unsustainable—like it’ll burn right through me and then disappear if I don’t know what to do with it.
“Focus your mind,” Macy says, “on lighting the candle. Imagine it. And then just do it.”
I stare at the candle as hard as I’ve ever stared at anything in my life. I imagine it lit, a flame burning along its wick. And then I try to light it.
Nothing happens.
“Don’t worry about it,” Macy says. “You’re so close,