The Dysasters (The Dysasters #1)(22)

“But you were not supposed to manifest earth. You must save your power and only use it when absolutely necessary. You’re stronger than the boys, but you are not immortal.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, but when I saw Cora—when I realized she was dead—I lost control. An earthquake manifested. It’s what created that explosion in the parking lot. Father, I had to calm it. I had to or it would have swallowed Foster and Tate and the entire town.”

“And called much more attention to what happened there than a rogue tornado or two. So, to protect your family you calmed the earth, knowing what the price would be—knowing the agony it would cause you.”

“It’s only amethyst, Father. It isn’t difficult to bear, and really only painful here.” She touched the raw jewel gently. “The rest of it helps me. Calms me. Protects me. Just as it does the earth.” Her voice sounded small and she was ashamed of herself—ashamed of the unasked question her words held.

“We’ve discussed this for almost two decades, Eve.” Stewart’s voice flattened and took on the emotionless tone of a lecturing biology professor, though Eve saw the desire in his gaze and how he couldn’t stop staring at the tumor-like jewel. “You have to disperse the energy and remove the stone. If you don’t what does our hypothesis tell us?”

“That the energy will build until I can’t control it, and the jewel will spread over my skin, eventually encasing me.” She spoke the words by rote, sounding as emotionless as he pretended to be.

“And?” he prompted.

“And it would kill me,” she finished. “All right. Do it. I’m ready.” Eve held her arm out to him.

He finally managed to pull his hot gaze from the jewel to meet her eyes. “I only do this to help you. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Father.”

“If it weren’t dangerous you could keep it. Keep all of them.”

“Yes, Father. I know. Go ahead.” Eve lifted her arm higher, offering it to him and bracing herself for what must come next.

With a sigh that held so much need that it sickened Eve, Stewart pressed the palm of his hand against the hunk of amethyst. Quickly Eve covered his hand with her own and closed her eyes. She reached through her body—through her feet that connected her to the sandy skin of the earth—and found just a small piece of her element. Focusing that power she pulled it up, up through the soles of her feet … up her legs … her core … up her spine to rush over her shoulder and build in intensity until that raw earth energy blasted into the amethyst jewel—and from the jewel directly into Doctor Rick Stewart.

The older man gasped and his body went rigid like an electrical shock was jolting him, but Eve knew different. She watched with emotionless eyes as Stewart gasped in pleasure before his hand fell from her arm and he dropped softly to his knees in the sand. His breathing deepened and when he looked up at Eve his pupils were fully dilated and his expression was unfocused. Stewart’s face was filled with such calm—such serenity—that he appeared to have youthened several decades.

“Oh, Eve! You were right. It is sublime. Leave me now and let me grieve for Cora and for all that was lost today by myself…” His words faded as Stewart lay against the sand. Eyes wide and fixed, he no longer saw her—no longer saw anything as the power of Eve’s jewel surged within him, filling him with a high that no drug could ever hope to replicate—a high to which he was completely, irrevocably addicted.

Silently, Eve turned from him. Her steps were heavy as she traced their tracks in the sand. Absently, her hand brushed at the jewel in her arm and it shattered, raining colorless specks that reminded Eve of smashed eggshells.

As always after Father drained one of her crystals, Eve felt tired and empty, as well as ravenous. The sense of calm with which the amethyst had gifted her was gone, leaving an absent, aching place, but she couldn’t indulge in the luxury of longing, of wishing she would, just once, be allowed to keep her power. Father would spend the night on the beach, riding the high he’d siphoned from her.



The jewel was big. He’ll be out for at least eight hours. I have to help my brothers find some trace of Foster and Tate before he wakes—before he takes out his anger on one of them. Again. And what was he insinuating tonight? That those kids will somehow make him money? Somehow fix his relationship with the scientific community, which means he’s planning on going public—showing he’s not dead and forgotten. That has to be good, doesn’t it?

“Those kids—those four pairs of air, fire, water, and earth—they must be our only hope. Through them Father can discover how to fix us, and he has to … he has to start researching and experimenting again.” Eve spoke to the sandy island, feeling her connection with earth in her every step. “He has to fix us. He is the only one who can. It was Father who created us, and Father who broke us.”

Eve trudged toward the cottage her brothers shared. As she walked, her own words echoed around and around her mind, the energy will build until I can’t control it, and the jewel will spread over my skin, eventually encasing me …

And for the first time, Eve let herself wonder for just a moment if becoming a living jewel of the earth would be more terrible than being a living drug for an addict.