Free Tegan's Return (The Ultimate Power Series #2) by L.H. Cosway

have to keep happening to me?
     It's this God damned city, nothing even remotely out of the ordinary occurred while I'd been in Manchester. I never should have agreed to come back. I need to do something about this, because unconsciously causing a fork to levitate is definitely not normal. Then I know what I have to do. I'm going to have to pay Rita a visit.
     
    Later that I evening I tug my long coat tight around me, buttoning it all the way up to the top as I walk alone through the festive city streets. It's so very cold out, and people rush by this way and that, laden down with shopping bags in a hurry to have all of their gifts purchased before Christmas. I haven't bought anything yet. Last year I received no presents at all. Then again, I did spend the day in bed eating, watching old movies and mourning home at intervals. I make a mental note to get something nice for both Nicky and my dad. I really hope I find him soon.
     I'm on my way to the Blackfield monument where I'm supposed to be meeting Ethan. It's this huge stone statue of some general from the 1800's. I wonder if Ethan ever met him, since he's been alive for the best part of the last three hundred years. The historian in me is hungry to know Ethan's story, to discover all the things that have happened to him during his long life. Perhaps someday soon he'll be willing to tell me about it.
     What happened to me at lunch time is still taking up most of my brain space. I'm going to go to Rita's house tomorrow after I've had lunch with Nicky. See if she can shed some light on the mystery of the levitating fork. I try to convince myself that there's some kind of logical explanation for it, like electrical waves or something complicated and technical that I don't understand. I laugh at the idea that this is some new and unusual ability, that I'll end up touring the world, making things float in the air for intrigued audiences. Just like Uri Gellar and his bending spoons.
     The Blackfield monument is on the South side of the river, so I have to cross over a bridge to get to it. The foreboding stone statue sits high atop a number of steep steps. It's always been a favourite meeting point in Tribane. People come and sit on the steps, some just to hang out, others to wait for their friends to show up. Just beyond it you can see the board walk that looks out onto the Hawthorne.
     It's just gone eight o'clock and the steps of the monument are packed with people, talking, laughing, arguing, waiting. As I get near I see Ethan's tall frame, standing amid a sea of unsuspecting humans. His eyes seek me out as I walk toward him. When I get to him he takes my hand into his, turns it over to expose the wrist, and presses his lips to my sensitive skin. I shiver. He grins. I pull my hand back quickly and stare at him for a minute. He's wearing his usual casual attire, and every section of fabric clings to him exquisitely. Despite the fact that I have a purpose for spending time with Ethan, I can't help getting lost in him every time he's close to me.
     “You look beautiful as always,” he tells me, holding out his arm to me. Reluctantly I take it, wondering what kind of plans he has for me tonight.
     “It's strange seeing you without your car,” I say, as I link my arm through his and he begins to lead me away from the monument, toward the board walk.
     “I once knew a woman who spoke to me of using old-fashioned methods of transportation, such as walking. I decided I should give it a try for a change.”
     I can't help smiling at this. “And how are you finding it so far?”
     Ethan looks down at me. “You forget Tegan, that I was alive long before the invention of the motor car.”
     “That's true, would you care to tell me about those days?” I ask, seeing this as a good opportunity to get him to tell me about his history.
     “So inquisitive,” Ethan replies. “Another time perhaps, I don't wish to speak about myself tonight.” Then he stops in front of