Shadowed Ground Read Online Free Page A

Shredded curtains dangled in shattered windows like shrouds.
    Eliot held a six-inch long shard of glass tipped with his blood.
    “Oh my god.” She started crying, hard. “I don’t know how I did it. I don’t know. Everything hurt, and then I felt cold all over and it wasn’t me anymore.” She hiccupped. She always hiccupped if she got upset enough.
    He ignored the house and the blood and watched her closely. “Ssshh,” he said. “It’s ok. Just calm down.” He was concerned, but not for himself or his trashed house. His was concern was for her, and that made her cry harder.
    “You’re,” hiccup, “bleeding. And I,” hiccup, “destroyed your house.”
    “I expected some kind of reaction. Hoped for it, even.” He took in the damage with a swift arc of his head. “Not that reaction, exactly, but that’s ok. Do you feel better? Can you get up?” She nodded. She wanted him to hold her so badly she could taste it, but he was soaked and injured with the force of her anger. She was suddenly terrified of that anger, and of the other unexplored, powerful parts of herself she had just brushed against. “Good,” he exhaled, relieved. He brushed her hair back from her forehead with a relatively uninjured hand. It trembled a little, and she realized he was afraid, too. Her Guardian was afraid of her. Or for her. Great. Just great. “Let’s get out of here for a minute.” He hauled her up quickly, decisively. “I have glass in my back and I can’t get it out by myself. It stings like hell.” She started crying and hiccupping again.
    He took her away from the house, to the very end of the boardwalk, before he let her see his back. Her hands shook as she pulled out large chunks of glass. The smaller shards came out when he pulled off his shredded shirt. Old scars and bloody new marks decorated his skin, so different from her own pale smoothness. Except for my burn scar, she realized, startled.
    After she removed the glass from his back, he patted the boards beside him. She eased herself into a reluctant crouch beside a shirtless Eliot who had his legs stretched over the side of the boardwalk. For a long time, they just listened to the waves.
    “You were doing so well, moving quickly and concentrating so hard.” He curled bare toes in sand. “When Cass first ran me through those exercises, I cried and screamed like a baby.” He grinned and kicked at the sand. “Of course, I was a lot younger. And Cass used a real knife.”
    “Of course,” she returned dryly.
    He grinned at the sun instead of her. “But you didn’t. You kept going. I should have seen, and known to stop. I’m sorry.” He paused, hunting words. “You can hurt yourself, pulling on the elements like that. You’re not supposed to be able to do it before….” He hesitated. “Before we get to the Landing. We’re alone in this and in a lot of ways, I have no idea what the hell we’re doing.”
    “Neither do I,” she almost wailed. “I couldn’t control it. It just took me over, Eliot. That was scary as hell.”
    “But that’s a good thing,” he insisted. “I mean, the house is well and truly trashed, don’t get me wrong. But this is a part of you that’s coming to life, and it will only get stronger. Better to know now, and figure out how to channel it at our enemies.”
    “What if I do it again, but worse?” she whispered.
    He looked out at the waves for a long time. “Everyone I know who can help you with this is dead.” The last word came out in a whisper. “I can’t help you with the elements, Chloe. I can tell you that using them around the Abandoned will draw them, quickly. I can tell you that drawing on land that’s been poisoned- by their presence, by chemicals and industry- can make you very sick. That’s part of what happened in Atlanta. I can tell you that you’re the best weapon we’ve got.” He grinned at her suddenly. “And of course, I can get better at not pissing you off, and getting us the hell out