Spring Rain (18 page)

Morgan had the urge to hug her but didn’t.
She was too unaccustomed to physical contact, too used to it
hurting, for her to want to test the waters now. She’d hidden the
bruises and marks from her mother and the rest of the world for too
long. It was hard to lower her guard again, except with Beck.

“How is daddy?” she asked the question she’d
feared posing.

“Gordon said he might put him in a nursing
home. He said it’s getting too hard to take care of him.”

But he’s alive.
Morgan didn’t think her father deserved the
relief she felt at knowing this, not after all he’d let happen to
her in his own household. “He might be better off away from
Gordon,” she whispered.

“You wanna talk about it?” Tandy
continued.

Morgan blinked out of her thoughts to glance
at her mother again. “About …”

“Your uncle.”

“No. I don’t.”

“You should talk to someone, Morgan. You
can’t keep that kind of negative energy inside you. It’ll eat you
up.”

“Nope.”

“Look, girl, I’m a fire witchling, too! I
can match that stubbornness seven ways from Sunday!”

Morgan rolled her eyes.

“Fine. But we will talk about it one
day.”

“Whatever, Mom.”

“Wanna tell me about the boy you like?”

“No. I don’t
like
him!”

“It’s written all over your face every time
you allude to him!”

“It is not!”

“You’re eighteen.” Tandy sighed. “Shouldn’t
you be out of this stage?”

“Omigod! I should’ve gotten you a ticket for
a bus leaving at a different time!”

Her mother laughed loudly. Morgan glanced at
her, unable to help the smile tugging up the corner of her mouth.
She hadn’t seen her mother smile or laugh this much in too many
years.

It was nice to think there were three people
she might be able to trust. Her brother, Beck, and her mother. It
was difficult, even knowing how good they all were, and Morgan
began to suspect she’d missed a lot the years she was separated
from her mother. More than stories of witchlings with purple flames
… Being with her mother was … nice. Peaceful. Warm, like being in a
bonfire.

I want my life … me … to
be different.
She wanted to laugh with her
mother and share Beck’s faith in others.

What would it take to become like them? To
become someone who wasn’t damaged or afraid, to take a chance on
the guy waiting for her and live even a day without fear?

What if she really could burn the Darkness
out of someone? Would it help her fix herself, too? Caught between
Light and Dark, she knew she was likely destined for the Dark, but
what if she could burn it out of herself if that happened and
guarantee a life with Beck?

She itched to try it, but who on earth would
be crazy enough to let her? Who would want to be Light badly enough
that they’d let her burn them to a crisp? She had no illusions
about it being a peaceful event. To burn that hot, she’d have to
loosen what little control she had on her fire and unleash it
fully.

She sat pensive for a moment, unable to
identify anyone desperate or stupid enough to let her …

Noah.
If not for himself then maybe when she told him she thought
she could save Dawn that way. Morgan debated for a moment, then
glanced at her phone. Beck had told her Noah was okay and Dawn had
taken his phone. She reread Beck’s sweet text before
responding.

I want to try something.
I’ll let you know if it works,
she
said.
Does Noah have a new
number?

She saw the bubble pop up on her screen
indicating Beck was typing a response. It disappeared, reappeared,
then disappeared again. Morgan cringed, hoping he didn’t think
she’d completely ignored his beautiful message from earlier. She
hadn’t, but neither did she know what to say about the unusual
relationship between them. There was too much emotion she was
avoiding when it came to Beck, not because she didn’t want to care,
but because she feared letting herself care too much and lose focus
of her goal to protect him.

Finally, Beck responded with nothing more
than a phone number. Certain she’d pissed him off, she sighed and
texted Noah.

Hey, it’s Morgan. Can you
meet me at the Light school in two days, after dark?
She texted.
I have an
idea about how to turn you Light again.

There was a long pause, and she guessed Noah
was weighing the seriousness of her statement. He had to be
thinking of Dawn or maybe, about Biji, who he wanted a shot with,
but was afraid to approach. She expected a question or two at least
or maybe an initial refusal and held her breath.

Okay.
Was his short answer.

Morgan blinked, barely believing he’d all
but blindly agreed.

If anything, it made her feel worse for him.
It meant he was hurting, willing to do whatever it took, even
blindly trusting an unstable fire witchling known for her temper
and the danger in her pocket.

Two days later, Morgan left her mother at a
hotel in town and then took the taxi to the driveway of the school.
She had him drop her off and trotted towards the buildings.

Part of her doubted he would show, but Noah
was waiting halfway up the driveway to the boarding school in the
chilly spring drizzle. Morgan approached, uncertain why he chose a
random spot such as this to greet her. His motorcycle was on the
side of the road, and he was staring towards the school.

She eyed him curiously as she reached him
and paused. “You, uh, waiting for me?” she asked.

“Try it.”

“Try what?”

“Getting to the school.”

She looked down the open driveway between
them and the log building. Noah’s blue eyes went to her, and she
shook her head, suspecting Dawn had scrambled her brother’s
brain.

Morgan took two steps – and smacked into an
invisible wall that gave off faint sparks at the impact. “What the
hell is this?” she asked and reached out. Her hand met the
wall.

“I’ve been testing it for ten minutes. I
called a friend, who told me Beck sealed off the Light campus to
everyone but Light students.”

“Because Dawn wants to destroy him and the
Light,” Morgan said. “Smart.” A tremble of shame went through her,
and she reached into the pocket not holding the soul stone to touch
her amulet. It was … cloudy. Neither Light nor Dark but something
in between.

She’d been lumped in with the Dark students
and locked out of Beck’s warmth as well.

Too much had happened for the exclusion from
the Light to hurt her. She was tired of being ashamed of what she
was and helpless to balance duty and her heart. “I had wanted to
use the stone near the stream,” she said and turned away. “We can
find someplace similar.”

“You wanna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Well.” She drew a breath and prepared for
him to run away screaming once she revealed her intention.
“According to family legend, my ancestor was able to turn a Dark
witchling Light using purple flames that burned so hot, they turned
white. My mother says no one in our family can create these flames
except me.” She focused her magick until a flame of purple-blue
blazed in her palm. “We need someplace where I won’t burn things
down, preferably a rock or platform in a stream.”

“You’re going to burn the Dark out of me?”
Noah asked, crossing his arms. He studied her. “That’s the
plan?”

“Yes.” She met his gaze. “If it works, and I
turn you Light, then maybe I can do the same for Dawn.”

“And if you don’t … I get burnt.”

“You’re a water witchling.
Your defenses are naturally more capable of handling an onslaught
of fire than anyone else.”
I
think.

He wasn’t laughing or running away from her.
If anything, Noah appeared to be considering her offer of burning
him alive in the hopes of ridding him of the Darkness.

“This will hurt, won’t it?” he asked and
shoved his hands into his pocket.

“Probably. I’ll call Beck to heal you,” she
offered and held her breath.

“Why am I even thinking about trying it?” He
paced a short distance away. “How confident are you this might
work?”

She shrugged. “I can’t think of any other
alternative that will save your sister and her baby. Darkness makes
her weak to Bartholomew. If it’s gone, then –”

“- we might have a chance to save her.”

Morgan nodded. When he was quiet, she added,
“And you get your chance with Biji.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

She waited, hopeful he’d give it a go yet
also a little queasy at the prospect of burning someone the way she
intended to do him.

“I’ll do it,” he said finally. “God help me,
Morgan, this better be worth me being barbequed.”

When it had been an idea, it didn’t seem so
bad. The way he looked at her, though, with a combination of fear
and hope, left her wondering if this was the worst thing she could
ever do. Would it damn her to Darkness after she burned him to
death? Could she control her magick enough not to kill him?

Could she live with herself if she failed
and crippled him in the process?

I have to try.
Despair filled her at the thought of never
finding her path to Beck. Decker thought there was something she
should be doing, and this was all she could think of that might
help Beck in some way, if it worked.

“We better do it now, before either of us
loses our nerve,” Noah said and went to his motorcycle. He slung
his leg over and held out the helmet to her.

She climbed on back while he started it.

They tore out of the gravel driveway and
away from town, toward the lake where they’d attempted to fake her
death months ago.

Noah drove her to the perfect place: an old
dock. A cracking cement slab extended from the bank into the lake
about twenty feet. He parked on the grass near the old dock and
strode out onto the cement.

“Will this work?” he asked as he walked.

“Yeah.” She looked around for anything
flammable within the near vicinity. There were no other wooden
docks or boats for a quarter of a mile, and the trees and grass
were far enough not to be ignited by sparks.

Her muscles grew jittery, her fire thrilled
about the challenge and prospect of being completely unleashed. She
tested her magick’s responsiveness as they chose a spot to set him
afire. It was hard to focus, even when it was eager to help. She
had always struggled to channel her fire exactly where she wanted
it to go. Beck’s ability to calm it had helped, but he wasn’t
there.

Satisfied her magick was as ready as it
could be, Morgan looked Noah up and down.

“Um, no offense, but … your clothes might
melt to your skin.”

Noah drew a deep breath and stripped down to
his boxers. “Want me to lay down or something?”

Embarrassed to be around a guy who was
mostly naked, she could only nod. Morgan tried hard not to look at
his body and instead dropped to her knees at his side and sat back
on her heels. Her right thigh pressed to his side, and she gazed
down at him nervously. Noah was breathing quickly, his water magick
restrained yet bubbling every once in awhile, as if it knew what
was about to happen.

What if I kill him?
She paused. Noah didn’t deserve to die and she
had no idea how she’d live with killing him. With trembling hands,
she set her phone out next to the soul stone on the cement slab,
far enough away that the fire wouldn’t affect it. She’d pre-typed
up a note for Beck to come get her and that he might need to heal
someone. All she had to do when the time came was tap
send.

“Okay, maybe you should let your water
magick free a little,” she said. “I want to try to target the fire
to your Darkness, so you can maybe … I don’t know. Tell your water
to go everywhere else?”

He nodded and closed his eyes. His cool
magick filled the air around him, and she placed quivering hands on
his warm chest. Immediately, his water magick pushed at her, and
she sensed his fear conveyed across their physical connection. She
steadied her magick.

“Ready?” she whispered, terrified of what
was about to happen.

“No. But do it. Burn that shit out of
me.”

Morgan withdrew one hand and lifted it,
summoning her fire magick. Her hand glowed orange, red, yellow,
greenish, blue and finally burst into purple tipped with white. The
brilliance of her flames caused her to close her eyes, and she
tested the fire’s intention of obeying her before she unleashed
it.

It was eager – and wild.

Noah’s breathing was even faster, shallower.
“Do it, Morgan,” he ordered.

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” she told
him.

He said nothing.

Morgan lowered the hand to his chest, and
his body went rigid. She opened her eyes and pressed him back to
the ground. A strangled cry left him, and he began to burn.

Take me to the
Darkness,
she directed her fire. It raced
through him, igniting his skin in purple flames that leapt towards
the sky, while her magick ferreted out the Darkness in his soul.
Rather than be located in one place like she expected, it was
spread throughout him, intertwining with his magick and clinging to
his spirit.

His body jerked and writhed, and the scent
of burning flesh and hair filled the air. It sickened her and
motivated her as well to burn hotter, faster, and end it
sooner.

To her surprise, he didn’t scream, though
she felt the water magick rise to fight the invasion. She was soon
drenched from a combination of the light drizzle and his magick
pushing back, but she leaned over him, pushing her flames to burn
so purple they were nearly black.