in total dismay and dropped back her head. The next thing she knew, the trashcan went flying a good ten feet and smashed into the side of a parked pickup truck.
Holy fuck. She’d done that—by mistake—all because she lost control. Heart pounding and stomach tumbling, Teagan whipped around to check if anyone had seen her telekinetic feat. The well-kept secret of the Wendayan’s existence would be exposed if anyone had.
She checked the streets. If someone had seen her little exhibition, she hoped they might believe a sudden gust of wind had picked up the metal can and tossed it about. Fingers crossed.
No one was near the church, and the sidewalk across the street was empty. Teagan looked at the sky and mentally thanked whoever was watching over her.
Move the can .
She pressed send on her cell to deliver the message to Izzy then stuffed it back into her purse. Now more than ever, she needed Ophelia’s help. Teagan would have to add anger management to her list of questions.
She picked up the can then returned it to its original position. Even with much of the trash out of it, it was damn heavy. Next, she rushed to the truck to check for damage. No insurance would cover it if there had been a dent, and she sure didn’t have any excess funds to pay for it.
Teagan shook her head in disgust. What a shame her visions never foretold her future—only those of others—or else she might have been more careful. The most frustrating part was that she’d caused this whole thing by being annoyed.
Teagan ran her hand down the truck’s metal side panel, but other than some slime, the vehicle seemed okay. She blew out a breath and rushed to pick up what trash hadn’t blown away.
She was halfway done when a girl about eighteen stopped to help, renewing her faith in kids. As she was nearly finished, a gentleman in his thirties with close-cropped blond hair and a small goatee also stopped to pick up a few pieces.
“Did the wind knock this over?” he asked. “It really made a mess.”
“Actually, I bumped into it.”
“Ah. That’s the reason you’re picking up the trash.”
She chuckled. “Yes.”
From the way he glanced to the side before returning his gaze to her, she didn’t think he believed her, but right now she didn’t care. Once they retrieved as much of the can’s contents as possible, she stood, anxious to leave the crime scene. Not only was she totally embarrassed by what happened, her hands were filthy and her clothes smelled. Could this day get any worse?
Teagan looked to the sky once more. Don’t answer that.
*
Brother Jacob closed his desk drawer and leaned back, dreaming about how to use the newfound magic. Robbing Randy Landon of his ability to manipulate electricity was a stroke of genius. At will, Brother Jacob would be able to cut power to any building, disrupt cell phone service, and electrocute his enemy. The opportunities were endless! Robbing a bank would take a lot of planning, but the reward would be high.
The knock on his office door instantly put him in a foul mood since he detested interruptions. “Come in.” Ah, it was Brother William. “What do you want? I’m busy.”
The interloper rubbed his goatee, a sure sign he was uncomfortable. “I saw someone perform an amazing feat, sir. She’s a Wendayan.”
The possibility of another theft had his heart pumping fast, even though it would mean finding more sardonyx. “Tell me.”
In stops and starts, Brother Williams described a woman capable of hurling heavy objects with a raise of an arm. “I did some research on her. Her name is Teagan Pompley. She’s associated with Kip Landon, the twin of the man whose magic we stole. She’s also a psychic. Apparently, her premonitions are quite accurate.”
To be able to see into the future would be immensely valuable, perhaps more so than the ability to control electricity. “Bring her to me. And don’t fail.”
Brother William bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter
Holy fuck. She’d done that—by mistake—all because she lost control. Heart pounding and stomach tumbling, Teagan whipped around to check if anyone had seen her telekinetic feat. The well-kept secret of the Wendayan’s existence would be exposed if anyone had.
She checked the streets. If someone had seen her little exhibition, she hoped they might believe a sudden gust of wind had picked up the metal can and tossed it about. Fingers crossed.
No one was near the church, and the sidewalk across the street was empty. Teagan looked at the sky and mentally thanked whoever was watching over her.
Move the can .
She pressed send on her cell to deliver the message to Izzy then stuffed it back into her purse. Now more than ever, she needed Ophelia’s help. Teagan would have to add anger management to her list of questions.
She picked up the can then returned it to its original position. Even with much of the trash out of it, it was damn heavy. Next, she rushed to the truck to check for damage. No insurance would cover it if there had been a dent, and she sure didn’t have any excess funds to pay for it.
Teagan shook her head in disgust. What a shame her visions never foretold her future—only those of others—or else she might have been more careful. The most frustrating part was that she’d caused this whole thing by being annoyed.
Teagan ran her hand down the truck’s metal side panel, but other than some slime, the vehicle seemed okay. She blew out a breath and rushed to pick up what trash hadn’t blown away.
She was halfway done when a girl about eighteen stopped to help, renewing her faith in kids. As she was nearly finished, a gentleman in his thirties with close-cropped blond hair and a small goatee also stopped to pick up a few pieces.
“Did the wind knock this over?” he asked. “It really made a mess.”
“Actually, I bumped into it.”
“Ah. That’s the reason you’re picking up the trash.”
She chuckled. “Yes.”
From the way he glanced to the side before returning his gaze to her, she didn’t think he believed her, but right now she didn’t care. Once they retrieved as much of the can’s contents as possible, she stood, anxious to leave the crime scene. Not only was she totally embarrassed by what happened, her hands were filthy and her clothes smelled. Could this day get any worse?
Teagan looked to the sky once more. Don’t answer that.
*
Brother Jacob closed his desk drawer and leaned back, dreaming about how to use the newfound magic. Robbing Randy Landon of his ability to manipulate electricity was a stroke of genius. At will, Brother Jacob would be able to cut power to any building, disrupt cell phone service, and electrocute his enemy. The opportunities were endless! Robbing a bank would take a lot of planning, but the reward would be high.
The knock on his office door instantly put him in a foul mood since he detested interruptions. “Come in.” Ah, it was Brother William. “What do you want? I’m busy.”
The interloper rubbed his goatee, a sure sign he was uncomfortable. “I saw someone perform an amazing feat, sir. She’s a Wendayan.”
The possibility of another theft had his heart pumping fast, even though it would mean finding more sardonyx. “Tell me.”
In stops and starts, Brother Williams described a woman capable of hurling heavy objects with a raise of an arm. “I did some research on her. Her name is Teagan Pompley. She’s associated with Kip Landon, the twin of the man whose magic we stole. She’s also a psychic. Apparently, her premonitions are quite accurate.”
To be able to see into the future would be immensely valuable, perhaps more so than the ability to control electricity. “Bring her to me. And don’t fail.”
Brother William bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter
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