Luminous by Dawn Metcalf

By Dawn Metcalf

As truth slips and time stands nonetheless, Consuela unearths herself thrust into the realm of the circulate. faraway from all she loves into this moving global overlapping our personal, Consuela speedy discovers she has the facility to step out of her earthly pores and skin and cloak herself in new ones-skins made up of the area round her, made from water, fireplace, air. She is joined via different youngsters with notable talents, certain jointly to shield an international they could have an effect on, yet the place they now not belong. while homicide threatens to undo the circulate, the Watcher fees Consuela and elusive, beautiful V to forestall the killer. however the psychopath who threatens her new international can also carry the one key to Consuela's approach domestic.

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Luminous

As fact slips and time stands nonetheless, Consuela reveals herself thrust into the area of the movement. faraway from all she loves into this moving international overlapping our personal, Consuela speedy discovers she has the ability to step out of her earthly pores and skin and cloak herself in new ones-skins made of the realm round her, made from water, fireplace, air.

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Still, if it doesn’t hurt, we’ll wait until morning. ” Her mother hesitated by the door, as if debating whether to admit this was a big deal or not. The pause was scarier than the lump itself. “If it starts hurting, tell me right away and we’ll go straight to the hospital. ” What else could she say? ” Both of them smiled uneasily, projecting Everything is going to be fine, while checking to see if the other one believed it. “Don’t worry,” Mom said, squeezing her hand. She went downstairs, probably to call Dad.

Her mind spun. What now? She thought desperately, Call Mom? She’d freak. I’d freak, she admitted to herself. This is me, freaking! She took a few deep breaths that shuddered on the exhale. Her eyes stayed shut, spots of light winking behind the red. Using both hands, she traced her fingers along the edges of the gap, feeling along the edge of puffy skin and the bony nubs beneath, trying to determine whether this was or wasn’t real. She couldn’t quite decide yet. She had to be sure before she screamed.

Consuela climbed onto the edge of the bathtub, unlocked the window, and let the night in. Her nonexistent eyes slipped closed in their sockets as she arched her back, gripping the edges of the windowpane like a pirate ship’s Jolly Roger in full sail. Consuela let the wind buffet her and blow in-through-around her body. Like an autumn gust through apple trees, it smelled crisp and wild and real. She wanted to feel it—wear it like a second skin. The thought came out of nowhere, but it seemed so logical, effortless.

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