Aconite (The Elektita Series Book 1) by Christine Alvarez

not a
witch!" I said in protest.
    "We'll
see." Okay we were back to the two word responses.
    "You all
think I'm a witch?" My life as this point felt much like this car. It was
on a road going nowhere.
    "Look. I.
Cannot. Tell. You. Anything. Else." His words were slow and loud like he
was beginning to think I was deaf and dumb.
    "Just start
the damn car." He sounded tired almost as if he was just as sick of all
this as I was.
    "How?"
Now I was pleading. How could I fix something when I had no clue how it had
happened to begin with? If he would just give a little I could grasp onto it
and figure things out without him breaking whatever code of silence he was
bound to.
    "If I knew
that I would have already done it."
    "So all Sebastian
said was that I knew how to fix this?" He lifted his arms up in the
universal sign for isn't that what I just said and left it at that. I wracked
my brain, digging around trying to find the answer to a question that I didn't
know only to come up empty. So I did what any girl would do and dug out my
cell. I was supposed to call Jonathon back in an hour so what better time than
now. But Richland was quicker. In a blink he had my phone in his hand.
    "No, Jonathon
cannot help you."
    "Nobody can
help me! At least nobody wants to help me!" I reached to grab my phone but
his reflexes were far too quick. Pity reared its ugly head once more in
Richland's features. The only two options I had left were to tap into the anger
that was building and attempt to retrieve my phone or try to start the car with
my mind. The latter sounded a bit crazy. Another option sounded even better.
Use this to my advantage
    "If you
answer some of my questions, honestly, then I will try to fix your car."
    He laid his head
against the steering wheel. I didn't like the silence one bit. It felt too
harsh against the craziness within.
    "One
question, one answer." His reluctance rang clear in his words.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
     
     
    "Who am
I?"
    That was the
million dollar question. Everything that had happened brought me back to this
very point. Richland sat staring into the darkened expanse of woods that
surrounded his car. The minutes ticked by. The weight of my question was
becoming heavier and heavier. If he thought his silence would derail me from
the answer he was mistaken. I didn't like secrets; especially the ones about
me. He turned to face me, slow and deliberate. A single tear tracked down his
solemn face. My heart sank and my chest felt as though a brick took up all the
space. Was it that bad to cause a stranger to suffer so much?
    "You are my
sister," he whispered. Surely I had heard him wrong. Maybe I reminded him
of his sister. The confession pulled at that part of me that had fought to stay
away. Keep itself unknown. I began to suffocate. I grabbed at my own throat
trying to rip it open to let the air in. Even the cool breeze that came steady
through Richland's open window was unable to push air into my lungs. Fire
burned up my skin as the moonlight dimmed in and out. I could hear Richland's
voice as it moved in and out. He sounded like a grown up from a Peanuts
cartoon. I tried to grasp on to what little I could see and hear but my hold on
my consciousness was diminishing far too quickly. Finally the world faded away
to nothingness.
     
    The wet, hard feel
of the wood helped me remain awake as searing pain sliced across my naked back.
Tears streamed from my eyes into a pool of blood that slid down my body onto
the stone floor. Though my vision was blurred, I could still see the audience
that has gathered to watch my public lashing. Soon their growing numbers would
only be known to me through sound. My battered knees stung from the shards of
rock that had purposely been laid out as an additive to my punishment. I
scanned the crowd through swollen lids to find my family. In the very front
stood my mother and sister; shame and disbelief consumed their features that
are so much like mine. But my mother stood cold and