Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) by Jaye A. Jones Page A

enough to dwell on already.
    I
had to tackle one problem at a time.  If I tried anything more complicated, I
was going to lose it again.  Thinking about what Hadrian had done, who paid him
to do it, and what was coming next wasn’t an option.  I had to stay in
control.  Step by step was the only way I could keep going forward.  Right now,
getting a grip and finding enough clothing to make myself presentable was my
mission.
    Despite
the wintry weather, I chose a knee-length skirt I hadn’t known I owned.  Was it
even mine?  It didn’t matter.  It was in my closet, now on top of a pile on my
floor, and it was the closest thing to nothing I could find for my bottom
half.  Rowan’s sweater was big, but not big enough to cover all of me.  Was I a
few inches taller?
    The
black, cotton skirt rubbed and irritated, but it only touched my waist and
occasionally brushed against my thighs.  I’d have to deal with it.  Couldn’t
walk around naked, or half naked.  It was already bad enough I was forced to go
braless for lack of any bras in my size.
    I
tried pulling on shoes, but couldn’t take it, so I left my apartment barefoot, amazed
that my toenails sparkled, and hoping the store wasn’t so messy that I couldn’t
find a path to walk through.
    I
added getting flip flops out of storage to my mental task list, because my
usual tennis shoes were out of the question.
    As I
pondered what new things I’d need—deciding that I needed everything, but
dreading the idea of going shopping—I went to join the others. 
    With
the first view of The Bookstore, my breath whooshed out of me. 
    I whimpered
and nearly collapsed.  Benn had lied.  Nothing a broom and some tools couldn’t
fix?  Half of the place was rubble, reduced to kindling.  Precious books were
ripped to shreds or burnt to a crisp.  Piles of ash decorated the scorched,
hardwood floor.  The wallpaper was blistered and peeling.  Chunks of plaster
that used to be the ceiling covered the floor in white snow. 
    How
did I do that to the ceiling?
    The state
of the store was bad, but the state of the males traipsing around the rubble
was worse.  I clasped my hand firmly over my mouth to keep from crying out.
    I
guess I’d been too distracted in my apartment to notice what I’d done to them.
    Cyrus
couldn’t open one of his eyes, his face swollen.  Scorched, angry splotches
riddled his arms and neck.  When he made his way around the room, he struggled
with a slight limp, and I could tell he was favoring his left arm.  Scratches
swelled along Rowan’s exposed, tanned arms and neck.  He looked stunned and
tense.  Grayson’s clothes were ripped, and I could have sworn I saw a clump of
his hair missing in the back.  There was dried blood—drips of reddish purple—all
along his collar, but I couldn‘t see where the wound was.
    I
did that to them.
    Thankfully,
there wasn’t a scratch on Benn.  Demons were stronger than humans, had
regenerative abilities so they healed quickly.  If I did that much damage to
three full-castes, I could have easily killed a human.  A sick twist of fear
for what could have happened ached in my stomach and made my vision blur.
    “Projecting,”
Rowan called out in my direction like a drill sergeant. 
    My
knees wobbled, but I managed to shoot him an Oh, shut your face telepath
that had more conviction than I thought I had in me.  Unbelievably, I saw one
side of Rowan’s mouth quirk up even as I had to grab the wall for support.
    “Is
everyone okay?” I squeaked, and Grayson was on my right, offering a hand to
keep me steady.  Though I was mad at myself for it, I took his hand, and was
surprised by the not-altogether-unpleasant sensation of his skin on mine before
turning back to the room. 
    “How
did…” I didn’t want to know how.  “What did I do?”
    “It
wasn’t in your control, Savannah,” Grayson’s velvety words wrapped around me. 
Only then did I notice they didn’t hurt my ears like before.  My