George’s eyes narrowed, as if he couldn’t quite figure out what Davis was saying . . . or thinking.
“Davis.” Joyce shrugged his arm off her shoulders and fixed him with a firm look. “What are you getting at?”
They’d used her glowing Light a handful of times. She’d once drawn from a shape-shifter and transferred to Davis so he could make himself look older and buy them beer. Harmless fun, but it took a lot out of her. Any time she used the glowing Light she felt drained and weak, and it took days to feel like herself again. But Davis loved having an ability for a little while, so she did it whenever he asked.
“He wants you to take it all,” George answered for Davis.
Joyce wasn’t entirely sure whether George’s ability had clued him in to what Davis wanted or if he was just smarter than her and had figured it out quicker—most people were smarter than her—but it suddenly made perfect sense.
“You want to take his ability permanently?” Joyce stared at Davis with wide eyes. “We don’t even know if that’s possible. We don’t know what it’ll do to George. I may not even be able to do it. I’m not that strong.”
“Yes, you are.” Davis said it with such conviction, such certainty, the doubt almost completely evaporated. He fixed her with that look she loved, the one that made his eyes shine, that made her feel as if they were the only two people in the room—in the world.
He cupped the side of her face, his hand warm, and she instinctively leaned into the touch. “I know you can do this, Joycie. I love you.”
“I love you too . . . but . . .”
“Please try.” George’s plea reminded her they weren’t actually alone in the dimly lit construction zone.
“George, I don’t know what it might do to you.”
“I don’t care. Even if it doesn’t work. Even if it only works for a little while. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have voices constantly in your head? To not be able to sleep until everyone else in the building is asleep? To not be able to make friends because . . . because you’re a freak? Just try. Please.”
His eyes pleaded with her as much as his words. He was desperate.
Joyce chewed on her lower lip. Davis wanted this. George wanted this. Who was she to say no?
“OK.” She nodded.
Davis clapped his hands once, the sound bouncing off the concrete. “Excellent!”
Joyce took George’s hand and concentrated hard. She’d never tried to pull all of it before—she had to focus.
It took time, but eventually the Light became the only thing she saw in her mind’s eye, the only thing she felt. She pulled harder than ever before.
She was so focused on her task, so determined to give them what they wanted, she didn’t notice when George tried to pull his hand out of her grip, when he whispered weakly for her to stop. She didn’t see Davis place his hand over George’s mouth, holding him in place.
When she’d pulled all the Light out of George, she gasped and her eyes flew open. Her body and mind couldn’t handle the pressure, the overwhelming weight of that much pure power.
She passed out.
Davis caught her before her head hit the concrete and lowered her gently down. Then, when he was sure George had no pulse, he kicked the young boy’s body off the edge, hoping it would look like an accident.
“Fuck.” With a growl, he grabbed two fistfuls of Joyce’s coat and shook her. “Wake up.”
This had to work. He hadn’t put in months of effort hanging out with this desperate, pathetic chick for it to all be a waste.
“You better not be dead.” He huffed and unzipped her coat, reaching for her neck to check for a pulse.
As soon as his skin connected with hers, he felt it. There was so much Light coursing through her she didn’t even need to be awake to transfer it to him. It was gushing out of her.
A manic smile spread over his face as the sheer power coursed into his veins.
He considered throwing her off the edge along with George—he couldn’t risk her freaking out and telling someone about what had happened—but he dismissed the idea. He had to make sure it was permanent first. And if it was . . .
He resolved to keep his new ability a secret as long as possible; he’d reveal it only at the