Free Zurlo, Michele - Torment [Daughters of Circe 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Michele Zurlo Page B

smile. “Twins are common among my people, triplets, too.” He turned, taking his eyes from Hillary to focus on Torrey. “Your turn. Who is Frank?”
    It was Torrey’s turn to grimace. “Riley’s father. My mom met my dad when she and Frank broke up one time. It didn’t last very long, and she went back to Frank. I know you said he was jealous, and maybe that’s true, but it’s also true that he hates me.”
    Shade said nothing, and Torrey appreciated that. He didn’t try to explain the ways in which she might be mistaken, and he didn’t try to defend Frank’s behavior. He accepted her statement without offering sympathy or judgment.
    Standing, she looked down at Shade. “I’ll go home with you, Shade, but I need you to help me with one thing first.”
    His expression didn’t change as he waited for her request.
    “Seth gave me some medicine to give to my mom. I have to remove it from her body, but I don’t know how.” She watched him expectantly, hoping he understood she was asking for help with her magic.
    His hands rested on his legs, fingers spread to span his powerful thighs. Strong hands on rugged jeans never failed to captivate Torrey. “Did you have another vision?”
    She wasn’t sure they were visions so much as visitations. “Yes.”
    Shade stood, his eyes roaming Hillary’s still form. “I can tell you what to do, Torrey, but I can’t help you do it.”
    “That’s all I need,” she said. “He said you would show me.”
    Shade glanced at her sharply. “The Shadow Man?”
    “No,” she said, declining to elaborate. For some reason, she didn’t want to share Caiden’s name with anyone, not yet. “Tell me, Shade. Tell me how to free my mother.”
    Moving to stand behind her, Shade lifted her arms until they were extended in front of her, hands open, palms facing upward. “Witches are of the earth and of the water. You command those elements. A human body is mostly water. Command the water to give up the poison.”
    Torrey concentrated, willing the poison—the medicine—to leave her mother’s body. Amazingly, she felt a tingling deep inside herself, and that tingling was reflected in her mother’s body. That small taste of success gave her hope, and hope gave her focus. She tried. Time passed. Nothing happened.
    Her hands dropped, rotating downward. Immediately, Shade grabbed her wrists and forced her palms skyward. “Hands up and open means you’re calling, commanding. Hands facing down means you’re forcing, pushing. Hands with the palms open and facing away from you is purely defensive. You can’t force this, and you can’t fight it. You have to command it.”
    She noticed he was careful to keep his body behind her. Did her power not work in that direction? Shaking away peripheral and distracting thoughts, Torrey seized on what he said. Command. She would have to command the poison to leave.
    No. She didn’t have control of the poison. She had control of water. Renewing her efforts, she reached out to the water inside Hillary’s body and commanded it to push the poison out. She felt the substance being forced through permeable membranes, heading toward the kidneys. In minutes, her mother’s body was clear.
    The effort drained Torrey, and she collapsed backward, falling against Shade. His arms came around her, once again offering support without being asked.
    The beeps ran together, turning into a high-pitched scream as the mystical drug that kept Hillary’s heart beating flushed from her cells, and she flat-lined. Nurses and doctors rushed in, pushing a crash cart into the tiny room. Torrey and Shade were shuffled to the hall to await the results of the futile efforts to revive Hillary.
    Shade deposited Torrey on a low bench across the hall and moved to lean against the wall next to her. She sagged forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Energy began to slowly return.
    The keening of the machines was an ominous background to demands for “One