“Hunter, we’ve been at this for days. I can’t do it.” Ella’s voice was a ragged whisper, her hand dropping to her side, the phantom weight of the unseen power still lingering.

  “Sure you can.” Hunter stepped forward, his hand warm and firm on her shoulder. “We saw you do it with our own eyes.”

  “And it was terrifying.” Thad flinched, his eyes darting to the floor as Hunter’s head snapped towards him. “What? It was. Like a storm trapped in a person.”

  “You’re not helping, Thad.” Hunter’s voice was low, a warning growl.

  Ella’s shoulders slumped, her gaze fixed on the unblemished mannequin standing twenty paces away. The rough, wooden surface mocked her. “It’s impossible. I don’t even know what I did last time. It’s all gone. Like a dream fading with the dawn.”

  “It’s not gone. You just need to tap into it again.” Hunter tapped Ella’s temple gently, his eyes searching hers. “How about we take a break? Regroup.”

  “Now you’re talking.” Thad’s relief was palpable. He pulled two brown bottles and a metal canteen from his knapsack, the clinking sound echoing in the cavernous warehouse, and handed them to

  Ella and Hunter as they settled onto weathered wooden crates.

  Hunter twisted the lid off the bottle, the metallic screech sharp in the silence, and watched Ella. She was hunched forward, her forehead pressed into her palm, her body trembling slightly. “It’s going to be alright.”

  “No, it’s not.” Ella stood abruptly, the canteen clattering to the concrete floor. “They’ve turned my brother into a monster. And who knows if my parents are even still alive?”

  Ella squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears were already spilling, hot and heavy against her skin. The lights above them, bare bulbs hanging from frayed wires, began to flicker, a rapid, uneven pulse. The air grew thick with the metallic tang of ozone. Hunter and Thad exchanged a tense glance, their eyes scanning the shadows.

  “It’s all my fault. I should have never left.” Ella’s voice was thick with guilt.

  Hunter stood, his posture rigid. “What could you have done? You’re just a kid.”

  The flickering intensified, the bulbs strobing now, casting stark, dancing shadows. The air crackled with static, the hairs on Thad’s forearm standing on end, his skin prickling with unease.

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  “Uh, Hunter…” Thad held his arm out, his voice barely a whisper.

  Hunter pressed his index finger against his lips, his eyes fixed on Ella.

  “And really, when you think about it, your brother’s death is probably your fault.” Hunter’s voice was low, almost a hiss, as he motioned for Thad to move back. He took several steps away from Ella, his eyes hard. “What was his name again? Mitchell?”

  “Michael.” The word ripped through the air, a raw, echoing cry. Ella’s eyes flared, twin vortexes of blue and white, and the very air around her crackled. A memory flashed: Michael laughing, sunlight catching his hair. Then, a crushing darkness. “His name is Michael.”

  Hunter and Thad shielded their eyes as Ella raised a finger, the movement fluid and terrifyingly precise. A bolt of lightning, a searing white lance, shot across the room, instantly turning the wooden mannequin into a flaming torch, the acrid smell of burning wood filling the air.

  “Get down!” Hunter dropped to the ground, the rough concrete scraping against his cheek, the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears. He covered the back of his head, burying his face in the dust.

  Heat radiated over Hunter’s still form, the air thick and heavy. He took a deep breath, the smell of burnt wood stinging his nostrils, and slowly uncovered his face. Ella was floating several inches above the ground, her arms outstretched, her hair swaying freely, like tendrils of smoke, as if she were submerged in a tank of water. A low hum vibrated through the air.

  Hunter squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, his voice hoarse. “Thad!”

  Thad uncovered his face, his eyes wide with terror, and snuck a glance at his friend. “What is going on?”

  Hunter pointed to Ella, his mouth dry. Thad’s jaw dropped, a silent gasp escaping his lips.

  A moment later, Ella leaned her head back, a primal scream tearing from her throat, so loud the lightbulbs hanging above them exploded in a shower of glass and sparks, the sharp, ringing sound echoing through the warehouse, the smell of burnt wiring filling the air. She collapsed onto the floor in a heap. Hunter rushed forward, his heart pounding, and brushed Ella’s hair out of her face.

  “Hunter, be careful.” Thad’s voice was shaky.

  He checked Ella’s pulse, the faint thrum a fragile lifeline, and then lifted her eyelid, revealing her normal eyes, the blue and white swirl gone. “It’s okay.”

  Thad knelt next to Ella, his eyes wide. “Is she alive?”

  Hunter nodded, his breath catching in his throat. “Her pulse is weak, but I think she’s okay.”

  Thad looked at the still-smoking mannequin, its charred remains glowing faintly, and let out a low whistle. “Wow.”

  “You aren’t kidding.” Hunter lifted Ella’s head slightly. “Hand me that canteen.”

  Thad jogged over to the canteen, the metal clinking against his leg, and handed it to Hunter. He twisted the lid off and tipped it to Ella’s lips. She swallowed down some water, her throat working, as her eyes fluttered open.

  “What happened?” Her voice was a whisper.

  “You did it, kid.” Hunter’s voice was soft, relieved.

  “I did?” Her eyes were filled with confusion.

  “Take a look for yourself.”

  Ella sat up, her body aching, and looked around the trashed warehouse, the shattered glass crunching under her feet. “I did all of that?”

  “Yes, you did.” Hunter helped Ella to her feet, his hand warm and reassuring. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

  “I understand.” Ella managed a weak smile. “You did what you had to.”

  “And apparently it worked.” Thad chuckled, his voice still trembling slightly.

  “Now let’s go home.” Ella said, the word home sounding foreign to her ears.

  “Sounds good to me.” Hunter said, his eyes never leaving Ella.