The Search for Artemis - By P. D. Griffith Page 0,55
hesitantly.
“I’m Brock Holbrooke. You think you’re a match for me?” he continued. “Everyone in this place knows you’re good for nothing. And if rumor has it, I’m going to be living alone again before Christmas, since they’re gonna kick you out. If you must know, she was insubordinate. She corrected me. And I don’t do well with insubordination. Isn’t that right,”—he looked over to Katie Leigh and lifted her another foot off the ground—“little one?”
She was still crying and winced with fear as the books pressed against her back.
“Corrected you?” Riley interjected, after a sputtering laugh burst from his lungs. “Don’t you realize you’re talking about Katie Leigh Chapman? It’s what she does. If she didn’t correct you, she’d explode.”
Brock’s gaze focused on Riley. The muscles of his face tensed up around his eyes, forcing them into a threatening, predatory squint. The twins fell silent, and Riley backed up slightly.
“Now leave before I decide you two should join little Katie Leigh here as a permanent decoration of the Library,” Brock threatened.
Riley looked over to Landon, but Landon didn’t move. His unbroken gaze was fixed on Brock. Like two rams battling for territory in the wild, they were sizing each other up before attacking headfirst. What had gotten into Landon? Why was he so hell-bent on defending Katie Leigh and sending them both into the depths of social destruction?
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Riley said under his breath to Landon before clutching his lower lip with his teeth. Riley looked green with anxiety.
“Not really, but we can’t stand for this,” Landon whispered in reply before directing himself back toward Katie Leigh’s aggressors. “We’ll leave when you let Katie go.”
“Well, if you’re set on staying in the Library,” Brock said, “then it’s time for you to go and read a book.”
The words were like a dart, piercing Landon’s brain. He could instantly feel sweat building up over his body and a strange heat on the back of his neck. Go and read a book. He’d heard those words iterated by his mother hundreds of times, a code she used to tell him to leave the room so she and his father could argue. But since the drug-induced reliving of his apocratusis on the day he was brought to the Gymnasium, he only heard his father’s voice echo them through his mind. Moments before he had attempted to slap his powerless mother across the face, his father arrogantly said those five simple words to Landon as if he was a dumb child. Every day since, he wondered if things would have been different had he not listened to his mother’s request all those times. Why didn’t you tell me he hit you? he thought to his mother. Why was I so stupid not to see? What would have happened if he’d stayed to protect her earlier rather than allow his father to beat and abuse her?
Brock swiped his hand through the air and a stack of books resting on a nearby table rose off their surface and jetted toward Landon and Riley. It happened in a fraction of a second, but to Landon, it was in slow motion. Each book slid off the pile, one after the other, flecks of dust flicking into the air, and they grew in speed as they moved closer and closer to his body. He watched Riley hunch over and raise his arms to protect his face. Landon instinctively raised his hand to block them from meeting with their intended target, and then, inches from his outstretched hand, they stopped.
Time returned to its normal speed. The books floated in he air motionless, suspended as if cast in a vat of clear gel. Surprised, Landon released his power and let the books fall to the floor. He couldn’t believe he’d been able to access his abilities in such a high-stress situation. Everyone in the room was standing silent. Even Katie Leigh, still suspended above the ground, had stopped whimpering and looked at Landon in shock. Brock’s menacing scowl shifted; his lips were now slightly parted, and his eyes were wide. Both the Crane twins’ jaws had dropped. Riley looked as if he was going to be sick.
How had he done that? Landon wasn’t even sure how he’d managed it, and the others in the room were noticeably just as shocked. Brock had powered the books across the room with lightning speed and for someone—anyone—to have the ability to react before they connected with their target was unbelievable.