Page 86 of Harnessed in Gold

What in god’s good name did Jean feel in my blood? And byblood, did she mean my bloodline? Is it something hereditary? According to Dad, the only trait in my family’s blood is athletic prowess, never mind that it seemed to skip me. But what if I went back further than my living relatives?

Dare I revisit my ancestor?

I pullProtection Magickfrom my drawer and look up “hedge riding.” A half-hour later, I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor in a haze of lavender-scented smoke. A flame dances atop the black candle on my nightstand, and a Hershey bar awaits me on my bed. With no one’s emotional energy to use other than my own, I’ll be as drained as I was when I left the hotel in Asheville. Chocolate is vital.

With my bathrobe tie, I tether my wrist to my bed frame, and in my opposite hand, I clutch every protective crystal I have. After three deep, steadying breaths, I close my eyes and start gathering. There’s no shortage of feelings swirling around inside me: fear and anxiety, anger and longing. So much longing.

Harness them, don’t feel them, I tell myself. But it doesn’t quite work the same when I’m using my own emotions. I can’t just wind them up on a spool like I did at the river. They’re nebulous and wavelike. It’s like trying to collect a downpour in a bucket. By the time the bucket is full, I’m soaked to the bone.

I’m vaguely aware of my senses: the scent of the lavender, the hard floor underneath me, the throb of my pulse against the terry cloth tied snugly around my wrist.Find Grammy, I remind myself, before I sink too deep to remember. My goal is to find Grammy.

Lulled by the hum of the radiator, my body grows heavy and warm. Tingly warm, like the clouds have broken and the sun’s rays have suddenly hit my skin. I float on the waves of heat until I’m pulled gently under, the light fading as I drift down deeper and deeper into a warm, welcoming blackness.

Grammy’s here; I can feel her. I call to her, reach for her. She’s so close my fingers brush hers. But when I try to grab her, I snatch nothing but darkness. And soon I’m falling again, so fast it terrifies me. When I open my mouth to scream, water rushes inside, filling my head and lungs.

Instead of panicking, I let it settle into me like it belongs there. It tastes of dirt and trees and fresh air. It’s inside me and all around me. I push through it, the waves rippling along my body like a caress. Laughter burbles in my chest as green and black weeds lick my legs and fish swim past in bubbly streaks. I float up, drawn by the dappled sunlight playing on the surface, and climb onto a rock to lie on my back in the hot sun.

A shadow stretches over me, blocking out the light. Squinting, I see him, a beautiful young man. Water droplets glisten on his skin and cling to his honey-colored curls. Desire burns in his green eyes, setting me on fire. I slip into the water, shoulder blades against the rock and toes digging into the silty riverbed.

I should turn and drift away in the current, as far away from him as possible. But he speaks to me in such gentle tones. He strokes my long yellow tresses and coaxes me into his arms. I feel his desperation; he’s lost and alone. He needs love, attention, admiration.

Emotions I can provide.

He whispers in my ear, “What will you give me?”

I slide my fingers into his damp hair. “Anything you want.”

From somewhere nearby comes a call. A name I don’t recognize.

“Don’t go,” murmurs the beautiful young man. But I’m not going.Heis.

“Betts! What the fuck?”

I clutch his shoulders, his wet skin slipping from my hands.

“Wake up!”

No.

He’s gone and he’s taken the sun with him.

Shivering, I try to pull myself from the frigid water, but the rock no longer welcomes me. It scrapes my knees and palms as I grope, the river’s current trying to peel me away. I cry for him, but no sound comes from my throat.

With a brutal tug, the current rips me from the rock, yanking me into the water and dragging me along. Even near the bottom, where it’s dark and quiet, I can’t swim against the force of it. I claw at the riverbed, at anything I can grab.

Why won’t he come for me?

“Betts!”

I’m shaken like a rag doll.

“Wake up!”

Water gushes out of my lungs, but they don’t fill with air. I gasp and gasp. My chest is locked.

Hot hands grip my face. “Betts!”

A wheeze tears through me, jerking my whole body. And for a moment, I don’t know who or where I am. Weak, late-winter sun. Cinderblock walls. A pink and white floral duvet tossed haphazardly on a low bed.