Rachel Caine: Total Eclipse

“It’s not her fault,” I told him. “Kevin’s right. She got slammed with a ton of power, and she has no idea how to use it. She’s like a baby with a nuclear bomb and a big shiny red button.”

“Hey!” Cherise said, in almost her old tones. “I’m right here! Have a heart.”

“No offense,” I said, “but Wardens get trained. They get trained a lot. And even then, we make massive mistakes, and people die. You don’t have that luxury, Cher. You’re too powerful, all at once. Your learning curve means death tolls. Now take down the shield.”

“What?” Cherise seemed blank. I pointed up at the invisible umbrella she was holding over us. Rain was pouring off of it in silver sheets. “I’m not—oh. I guess I am, huh?”

“Instinct. It’ll kill you. Or actually, other people,” I said. “Drop it. I’ll show you how to build it right.”

“I—don’t think I know how to drop it. I mean, I didn’t know how to put it up in the first place.”

“Talk later, flee now,” Kevin said, rubbing his throat and glaring at David. “Seeing as how we’re going to die if we hang around here in Lightning Central.”

I looked up at David, and saw his fierce love and anger and desire to lash out. And protect me. He was taking this being human thing harder than I was, after all. “Kevin has a point,” I said. “Let’s work it out in motion.”

He didn’t like it; I could see that, but he nodded and helped me to my feet. I was shaky but serviceable. Wetter than a sponge on the bottom of the ocean, but maybe I could get Cherise to dry me off as a training exercise. Then again, she’d probably desiccate me completely and leave me a dry, dead husk, so maybe not such a great plan after all.

“Maybe you shouldn’t drive,” David said.

“Ha! The day I can’t drive the Boss is the day that you need to wrap me in plastic and leave me by the side of the road for the buzzards.”

“Jo, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” I said. “Nobody drives it but me. Those are the rules. Now get in the car . Please. I don’t need to argue, I just need to drive.”

He didn’t like it, but he nodded and helped me in. Cherise was maintaining the rain shield above the car, which was convenient even though it worried me in a Warden sense. There were all kinds of ways to power that kind of defensive capability, but the best ways, the ones that would ultimately have the least impact on the world around us, were the most difficult to learn. Cherise was, without a doubt, just grabbing raw power and slamming it into a form without regard for how out of balance the equations fell.

The storm had already noticed her. And it was going to get very interested now.

Everybody piled into the car, and I found the keys and started up the Boss. His engine caught with a fierce grumble, and I threw it into reverse as another lightning bolt slammed home, this one torching a tree near the corner of the parking lot. Combined with the still-burning telephone pole, the place was starting to look like it needed to be renamed the Disaster Drive-In.

“Sorry,” I whispered, and peeled out of the parking lot. Once I hit road speed, I began to really start liking Cherise’s shield, even if it was an energy suck monster. It was like driving under a mobile bridge, and it kept the rain from hammering the windshield, which was excellent. I opened up the Boss as we gained the access road for the freeway. When we reached the top of the ramp, I glanced over and saw three stabs of white-hot light smash down from the boiling clouds into the roof of the motel.

The trees weren’t the only thing on fire anymore, and now there were innocent lives at risk—not just ours. The roof was burning, and it was possible that even with the rain, it would spread. The tree and telephone pole weren’t showing any signs of going out.

“Kevin,” I said. “Get that fire out.”

“The rain will take care of it. I don’t need to—”

“Did you hear me ask? Because I’m pretty sure I put it as an order, not a request for your opinion. Just do it. Now, Kevin!”

Kevin shut up and looked toward the burning roof. Seconds later, it snuffed itself out. He ended the blazes on the telephone pole and tree for good measure. Show-off. “Anything else, boss ?”

“Yeah. Be quiet.”

He shot me the finger, which did not shock me, and slumped back in his seat with a mutinous, pouty expression. Still not out of his teen angst, I saw. Or maybe he’d just grow up to be a pouty, petulant man. Yeah, that was going to be attractive.

I took a deep breath and looked over at David. “Are you okay? Not burned?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “He put it out before it did any damage.”

I made sure I had the Boss aimed straight and steady on the nearly empty rain-slick highway, and focused on the blurring lane markers for a while. Finally, I said, “Cherise, I need you to think how it felt when you put up the shield. What made you do it?”

“Um . . . I guess . . . I was getting wet. I didn’t like it.”

“Okay. Are you getting wet now?”

“Obviously not . . . Oh. Right. Okay. But I’m still wet. And kind of cold.”

I turned up the heater and directed the blast toward the back, although I was cold and shivering, too. “Once your body is convinced you don’t need it, you’ll be able to let go,” I said. “Your instincts are controlling your power, and that’s a very bad thing, Cher.” The other bad thing, although I didn’t dare say it, was that in my experience, regular people weren’t Wardens for a reason. There were changes in body chemistry in Wardens: different nerve conduction times, subtle differences that allowed us to handle and channel the kinds of power that would destroy—sooner or later—non-Wardens who tried to handle the same forces.

I didn’t know whether the transfer of powers from me to Cherise—if that was what had happened—had also given her an upgrade on the physical side. If it hadn’t, it was like putting jet fuel in a car’s gas tank. It would run for only a short time before it exploded under the stress.

I needed her to back off from using them until a specialist, an Earth Warden with real knowledge, could get a look at what was happening inside of her. But if she allowed instinct to dictate how those powers were used, we were all in serious trouble, and there was no way she’d be able to control any of it. I didn’t feel much like Yoda, but I’d have to do as a mentor.

“There is no ‘try,’ ” I said, and then swallowed a laugh. “Okay, how is it now?”

“Better,” Cherise said. “I feel better. Not as cold.”

And sure enough, overhead, the shield holding the rain off us cut in and out for a few seconds, then collapsed completely. Instant white noise, from the rain pounding on the Boss’s metal, and I engaged the wipers on full. No trouble seeing the road ahead, even with the torrential downpour. . . . Lightning was a constant event, strobing everything into horror- movie shadows and glares. “Good,” I said, and put warm approval into my voice, even though I was freezing, still. “Good work, Cher. Did you feel it when it let go?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“All right, here’s your first test. Try putting the shield back up again.”

It took about thirty seconds, but she reestablished a flickering, uncertain rain shield above the car, then, at my direction, let it go. We did that three times, until she could put up and take down the shield on command. “Good,” I said. “Now you’re controlling it; it’s not controlling you. You feel that pulse of power that comes when you call? If you feel it coming when you didn’t mean to call it, stop it. You know how. It’s the same way you dropped the shield.”