The Next Step

~4~

I stare at Griffin in silence, feeling the energy from the lightning crackle within me, and wait for him to elaborate. He turns to Nixon instead, avoiding me.

"Was it the same for you?" he asks, brow pinched while checking over his roommates for injuries. "I knew that we needed to teach Lia how to connect with her power, but I had no control of my actions from the moment we began to chant." He runs a calloused hand through his short black hair and the other two nod slowly.

"In all of my extensive years communing with my magic, I've never felt the Source so strong in me before," Nixon murmurs almost to himself. "Gods, I feel like I could transmute a mountain right now," he exclaims, swirling his fingers in the air above him and creating ripples in their wake.

Basil moans in response, and rolls so that he's face down on the grass. "My magic is juiced as well." It's harder to understand him, because his words are muffled by the grass, and his accent has become more pronounced.

Griffin and Nixon laugh, and my confusion must show, because Griffin grins devilishly and tosses a pebble at his friend's backside.

"Whatever just happened, Red," he smirks at me, "pumped our powers up."

I cross my arms. "Stop dancing around and just tell me what the hell is going on," I fume. I'm tired of his games where I learn basically nothing. I want straight answers.

"You want it straight?" he asks, and I nod, wondering if his amped up mind powers heard my interior monologue.

He smirks.

Guess that answers that question.

"Baz's magic is animal magnetism with a side of elemental water." I nod impatiently, and his smirk grows into a full-blown grin. "He's got a raging hard-on, right now, Red."

Basil moans again, and my cheeks heat with a rare blush in understanding.

"You'll help a fella out, won't you, luv?" Basil pleas, reaching out a hand toward me. I skitter backwards away from him and scowl at all three of them as their laughter rings through the meadow.

Man-children! They may look like they're in their twenties, but they're acting like they are twelve!

"How old are you?" I grumble, unable to help myself.

"Sixty-four," Basil answers from his prone position.

I want to retort with a witty remark, but something tells me that he's being truthful. His words roll through my mind with a cool blue touch, and this new 'magical' awareness inside of me whispers honesty.

What. The. Hell?

My shock at his words has me reeling, and I scoot further away from all three of the men surrounding me.

"Good going," Nixon grumbles. The grass beneath him begins to swirl, and it rearranges itself into a plush chaise before my eyes. He turns his focus toward me, and I'm suddenly sitting in a green, pillow-laden love seat.

"Enough with the magic," I shout, gripping my head between my hands. It's all too much.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I must lose myself for a moment, because the next thing I know, a strong, pungent odor surrounds me and I'm staring into warm, hazel eyes.

"You with us, luv?" Basil asks, patting my hand and leaning toward me.

I pull away as the smell increases tenfold, and I gag slightly as I turn away.