“Don’t!” Piers pleaded, jaw clenching as he braced for impact. Surely he’d be punched or kicked. Fear grasped him in a stranglehold, cutting off his breath. Suddenly, boiling anger replaced the terror. Who was this guy to push Piers around?
“Or. Wha…”
The hair on Piers’ head rose. Prickles danced along his skinny arms.
Crack!
The bully’s eyes widened.
Crash!
One moment the guy stood there; the next, he lay on the ground, nothing visible but his feet sticking out from under a pile of leaves. “Get it off of me! Get it off!” The bully squirmed beneath the massive limb holding him to the ground.
“You think you’re so tough? Do it yourself.” None of the other boys remained behind. Several teachers came running from where they’d conveniently hidden when Piers needed them.
He ignored their excited chattering and stalked past the smoldering tree. Funny. Lightning struck right when he needed.
What had just happened?
Piers sat on the roof of the group home, alone, as he’d been for years. Why did Uncle have to die? They hadn’t had much, but Uncle had kept Piers safe, provided all he’d needed. Now he wore hand-me-down clothes others left behind when they moved on because kids came and went, but he stayed. No family. Few friends. Freak. They called him Freak. The few foster families who’d taken him in always brought him back.
He wasn’t to blame for unexplained happenings. Though some of the strangeness at foster homes occurred after some bit of meanness directed his way.
Your real name isn't Piers Adams. It’s Pieravor Gimitri. You are not from this human realm we live in. Your mother practiced powerful magic. I don't have much power, but what I have, I'll use to hide you.
Had Piers somehow caused the tree to fall today? What about the sensation he’d felt right before the lightning struck?
Any who seek your magic will not find you.
The remembered words formed ice in the pit of Piers’ stomach. How could someone seek his magic? He didn’t have any, did he? He stared at a spot on the roof, willing a pebble to fall over the edge. Nothing.
See? No magic!
The hatch door opened. Piers stiffened until a familiar head of frizzy hair poked out.
“I heard about what happened at school.” The force of nature named Jessica Russo hauled herself out onto the roof.
Piers regarded her over his shoulder, then returned his attention to the cars driving down the streets below. Who were those people? Where were they going? How he’d love to take a car, leave the city, and never look back. Only, he’d nowhere to go.
The people in those cars probably went home to loving families. Not like him.
But he did have Jess.
Jess had arrived in a torrent of foul language and attitude. The home enforced rules against boys and girls being alone together, but they never worried about Piers and Jess for some reason.
Was he so obvious in watching guys, not girls?
Piers pulled back from the edge of the roof. Who needed to see cars, anyway? Certainly not Jess, who’d braved coming up here despite her fear of heights.
She laid on her side, head propped on her hand. “Want to talk?”
Piers shrugged. “Nothing to talk about.” He wouldn’t know where to start.
Jess shot upright. “Nothing to talk about? Dude! Not a fricking cloud in the sky. Five minutes later, Timmy the Terrible gets struck by lightning while picking on you.”
“He wasn’t struck by lightning.” Piers huffed. “The lightning hit a tree. A limb fell on him.”
“That’s not what I heard.” Jess lifted her nose into the air.