Her power stretched out, wanting to know who Taig had sensed. They knocked again, a double rap this time, and Lealandra felt their impatience and something else too. She knew them. Taig stood, walked through the rubble to what used to be the kitchen and dug through it for his knife. Lealandra stumbled to her feet, winced her way barefoot over the mess, and caught his wrist. He looked down at her hand and then into her eyes. “Wait.” She frowned at the door, focusing her power there. Her eyes widened when she realised who was on the other side. They weren’t here to harm them. At least, she hoped they weren’t. Gregori couldn’t have turned this person against her, surely? She stooped, picked up her dusty robe from the mess that she had caused and quickly put it on. She snapped her fingers. Black jeans encased Taig’s lower half. Another snap of her fingers and everything that littered the room began to fix itself. Lealandra focused hard to recall what it had all looked like before she had destroyed it.
