“I’m trying.” The pain in my muscles mounted. But it wasn’t from fatigue. It was my powers. My “abilities,” as Daniel called them. They were always lingering there, just out of reach, whenever we trained. And if I could just push through the wall of fire that stood between them and me, I could grab on to my powers and use them. Own them.
I cringed as the crescent-shaped scar on my arm throbbed and flared. I dropped my arm and tried to shake out the pain.
“Arms up,” Daniel said. “Rule number one: Never drop your guard.” He smacked me lightly on the shoulder. It was meant to be a playful hit, but the pain in my scar shot through my arm like electricity.
I glared at him.
“You’re getting annoyed,” Daniel said. That wry grin of his played on his lips.
“You think?” I sent another combination into his mitts. Three jabs and a hook. I felt a surge of power through my body—finally—and the last punch flew faster and harder than I expected. Daniel missed deflecting it, and my fist slammed into his shoulder.
“Whoa!” He jumped back and shook out his shoulders. “Rein it in, Grace. Don’t let your emotions have too much control.”
“Then why are you trying to annoy me?”
His smile edged from wry to devious. “So you can practice balance.” He smacked his mitts together and gestured for me to attack him again.
I could feel my powers pulsing through me—finally in my grasp. I laughed and bounced back several feet. “How’s this for balance?” I asked with a smile, and faster than I could think, my body went into a spin kick that landed squarely in one of Daniel’s outstretched mitts.
Daniel grunted and stumbled back. His knee wobbled and gave out from under him, and he went flying backward toward the ground.
“Oh no!” I lunged for him and caught him by the arm. But it was too late to stop him from falling, and I toppled with him onto the grass.
We landed side by side on the lawn. I was momentarily stunned—hitting the ground had knocked the wind, and my powers, right out of me. Daniel rolled onto his side and moaned, startling me back into reality.
“Oh no, I’m sorry!” I sat up. “I wasn’t thinking. My powers kicked in and I … Are you okay?”
Daniel’s moan turned into a half laugh. “That’s not the kind of balance I was talking about.” He winced and pulled off his mitts and tossed them aside.
“Seriously, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Daniel leaned forward and rubbed his knee. He’d trashed it pretty badly when he fell from the parish’s balcony a little less than ten months ago. And since I’d cured him of the werewolf curse right after he fell, he’d lost his superhuman powers and had to wait for it to heal like any other regular person. Even after spending weeks on crutches and doing a regimen of physical therapy, he still had a lot of trouble with his knee. “Beatin’ up on a gimp. What would your daddy say?”
“Ha-ha.” I made a face at him.
“Seriously, though. You’re getting good.” He groaned and lay back into the grass, tucking his arms behind his head.
“Not good enough.”
It took almost an hour of intense sparring before my powers even started to manifest, and once they kicked in, they lasted only, what, like thirty seconds? That was the thing about my abilities. They came in spurts whenever they felt like it—totally uncontrolled by me. My wounds healed over more quickly than those of a normal human, but I still couldn’t draw on that power the way Daniel used to be able to. I couldn’t heal myself on my own terms. I’d get bursts of speed or agility, like my body had a mind of its own—like when I kicked Daniel just now—but I usually couldn’t control when it happened.
After Daniel’s doctor gave him the go-ahead to be active again, we started training together three nights a week—when I wasn’t grounded, that is. We’d go running, try out some parkour moves, box with mitts like we did tonight, practice trying to hear and see long distances. But even though I was notably faster and stronger than I had been even a few months ago, it was beginning to seem like, no matter how much I tried, I’d never be able to use my powers the way I wanted—instead of them using me.