The last thing she remembered was Jack gently lifting her and tucking her into his bed.

Mira sat in the living room, pressing a hand to the place between her breasts.

Jack's kiss, touch, his presence, his fire ... something about him had awakened her magick. But it had been Mira who'd willed it to stay instead of recede.

Now, it was an ever-present warm glow, reminding her that all she'd ever thought was true about her reality ... wasn't. It reminded her that she was more than she'd ever thought she was, and not quite human. Despite these uncomfortable truths, she'd grown used to its presence. It was a part of her, a constant companion.

She felt compelled to let it free from its prison inside her. The compulsion had been growing steadily. It was almost as though the power needed to be bled off.

Mira knew there had to be a way for her to access that magick on her own, without Jack's fire to draw it out, she just wasn't sure how to do it.

Jack was in the bedroom. He had shown no interest in helping her learn, so she'd just have to do it on her own.

Mira found a comfortable position and closed her eyes. She'd always been faithful in practicing meditation. Maybe her skill in that area could help her now.

She allowed herself to drift a little, find a comfortable place in her mind where she could rest. Her breathing deepened and the sounds in the penthouse—the gentle click of the grandfather clock in the corner, the soft noises of Jack rustling paper on his desk in the bedroom—faded to the back of her mind.

Once she felt centered, she shifted her awareness to the middle of her chest, feeling for the magick she knew resided there. But it didn't feel any different to her in this slightly altered state of consciousness than it had before. It felt locked in a box, and she didn't have the key. With her mind, she explored the edges of the "box," looking for any way in, some fissure in the walls that penned the power.

Mira quickly grew frustrated. There seemed to be no way to access it at all. Would she always need Jack's fire to draw it? She hated that idea. If this was her power, she should be able to access it on her own.

She clenched her hands in her lap. This magick was hers to command, no one else's.

The power in the center of her chest exploded into a flare of brilliance at her declaration. Wind rushed through the penthouse, making her hair swirl around her face and practically toppling her from the couch.