Reflection Pond by Kacey Vanderkarr

to share this kind of energy, to be this close—and yet, he was doing it anyway. He’d never had a damn the consequences attitude, each move was usually calculated. Except this—except with her. He remembered how his heart had stopped when he’d seen her covered with blood. How he’d been terrified that he’d lost his chance.
    Her fingers were freezing and pruned from standing in the rain too long, but the underlying power was pulsating and warm. “Close your eyes,” he said.
    Her eyelids lowered, fanning a shadow across her cheeks. “What are you doing?”
    “Healing myself.”
    “But—”             
    “Would you just shut up and let me do this? My head is killing me.”
    Her mouth snapped shut. She frowned.
    Rowan willed his body to relax. Callie’s touch made every nerve in his body pull tight. “Empty your mind,” he said, more to himself than her. There was something about Callie that made him ache all over. He’d felt it when she dangled beneath him outside the palace window. He’d felt it when he healed her. Both times.
    She was special.
    Rowan let his energy drain into Callie’s skin. Her body offered no resistance and their power swirled together like the strands of a double helix. Callie’s energy was the blue of the summer sky in August, and as viscous as honey. Rowan’s was darker, much darker, but just as thick.
    The farther he went, the more aware he was of Callie. First, her fingertips, warming from their contact, and then her arms. He slid across her chest, feeling her pulse pound against his as though they were in a race to finish first. He entered her mind, letting the disorienting feeling of seeing himself wash over him.
    Her life played in fast forward, like flipping the pages of a picture book. There was water and hurt, suffocation. Pain. Memories crashed into him—swirling and swelling until Rowan was nauseous. His throat closed. He couldn’t breathe. With a gasp, he threw up a wall to Callie’s memory. Their energy moved along it and into her other arm, finally reaching her fingertips. It poured back into Rowan.
    He breathed in relief, shocked by the absolute horror inside of Callie’s mind. His heart slammed against his ribs. His energy pulsed to the tune of panic. Rowan forced himself to relax and let himself heal.
    From there, his mind went into autopilot, seeking out imperfection. He saw Callie’s anger attack his brain, creating weak spots in his vessels. If the attack had lasted one second longer, he’d likely be dead. As it was, Rowan was lucky he’d chosen to heal himself. Without it, he would’ve lived only hours.
    He didn’t tell Callie any of this, just let his energy traverse her body and spill into his. His head went numb, then warm.
    All too soon, it was over.
    Rowan pulled away, their hands disconnecting like two magnets determined to hold on. He hid his in his lap. “Thanks,” he murmured, still reeling. What happened to her? He wanted to pull her into his arms but refused to believe he could heal her pain. Heartbreak like that was more than skin deep. It infected every cell like poison.
    Callie watched him curiously.
    Drops of water fell from his hair onto the table. He had to say something. “I can’t heal myself, only direct the energy through someone else. It’s inconvenient, but it works.” His heart slowed to a normal rhythm.
    Callie shivered. Did she feel the chill in her bones as he did—the frigidness that came with the severed connection? Rowan tried not to get close to too many people—especially when it came to sharing power. It was too intimate, but with Callie he found he didn’t mind as much. He trusted her in a way he didn’t fully understand.
    “We should go back.” He stood, unable to continue sharing the tiny, three-foot space without touching her.
    Callie blinked and finally looked around. “Where are we?”
    Rowan smiled, watching curiosity play across her face. He should’ve known she’d like this place.