Winter Fire (Witchling Series) (13 page)

BOOK: Winter Fire (Witchling Series)
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Several pages were dog-eared, because he was still trying to figure out how to find those witchlings from previous discussions with the earth. Most of those pages were towards the front of the notebook, which brought him a smile. He was getting better at interpreting its unique method of communication. The past five weeks, he had no dog-ears on any of the pages.

His parents were right. Sometimes, it took time for things to work out the way they should.

Setting the book aside, he replaced his palms on the ground. Usually, he had a question or a point to his talks with the earth. No single thought came to mind.

“Show me whatever you want,” he told the earth.

He expected the earth to float some pretty memories by him, as it did randomly at times. Perhaps of the valley or animals or similar.

Today, though, it showed him fire. At its midst was a smooth, small black rock that radiated with Darkness. Unlike every other vision, there was no location to this one, no serene forest setting or aerial view of the school. The fire was cold, its flames blue, while the rock felt somehow colder.

The image faded.

Beck leaned back, startled by both the unexpected vision and the intensity with which the earth showed it to him. It was acting as if it were scared, the magick agitated, the warmth coming and retreating quickly, as if the element was pacing in his blood.

“You just can’t speak English, can you?” Beck asked, frustrated.

 
Danger.
This he heard, a whisper in the wind.

Beck recalled the last image it showed him, of the Dark eating away at the core of the Light. He couldn’t piece the two visions together, and the earth seemed to be happy just to deliver the message. It was calming now, as if it trusted him to know what to do.

He didn’t. He wrote down this vision and the last, stared at it, then closed the notebook.

“We’re getting better at this,” he told the earth in approval. “I won’t get discouraged, and you keep showing me puzzle pieces.”

The magick replied with images of forest animals.

Beck almost laughed. They were definitely speaking two different languages. He wasn’t certain yet how to bridge the gap.

He rose and checked his watch. He was half an hour late for his first class. Every morning, the girls took dancing lessons and the boys played sports. It was thought that teaching the witchlings to understand and communicate with their physical bodies helped them manage the wild magick that flowed within them.

It was too cold for outdoor sports, so the boys were confined to the small gym.

Beck left the forest and went to the dorm room he used to share with Decker. His gaze always lingered on the bare bed. Seeing it reminded him how much had changed during the past few months. Decker was his best friend and had been throughout childhood. This had been their main home since they turned thirteen. They might have argued and fought, but they always came back to this room and each other.

Beck missed his twin. Decker was in the dorm in the Dark Campus, about sixty miles south of Priest Lake. It wasn’t far, but it felt that way. Especially today, when Beck’s thoughts were so scattered. The one he wanted most to push away – of kissing Morgan – just wouldn’t leave him alone.

He changed into workout pants and a t-shirt then trotted down the wooden walkway to the gym entrance. Low and long, the gym was loaded with cutting edge equipment, two wrestling mats, a free weight area and men’s and women’s locker rooms, each of which had Jacuzzis and saunas. Mirrors lined one wall, and the ventilation system kept the air fresh and cool.

A self-made billionaire and fanatic marathon runner, Michael Turner wasn’t about to build a gym with anything but the best.

The guys were gathered at one end of the gym. Beck assumed someone challenged someone else to a wrestling or kickboxing match. It happened sometimes in winter, when tension between students confined to campus by snow got too high. Fighting was forbidden – mostly because of Beck and Decker’s huge fight from a year ago – but wrestling and kickboxing were permitted.

His gaze went to Connor. Even the sight of Morgan’s brother made Beck feel more frustrated. He wasn’t going to think of her today or even talk to her if he did. No matter how much he enjoyed kissing her, he was going to do what he should have yesterday: walk away.

Determined, Beck strode towards the end of the gym. It was a good day for wrestling matches.

“Beck, c’mon.” One of the guys motioned him forward, grinning. “You gotta see this.”

Beck joined them, hoping no one was bloodied up. It was hard enough to convince the pacifist Amber to let them wrestle, let alone defend the program when one got the occasional bloody nose.

His breath caught when he was close enough to see who was wrestling.

“Shift your weight, Morgan,” Connor instructed.

Her hair in a ponytail, Morgan was working on breaking a hold that one of the other guys had her in. Her face was flushed, her eyes down as she concentrated.

“I so want to be next,” Isaac whispered.

“Not me,” Beck said. “I don’t want Connor kicking my ass if I mess up.”

There was no way he could touch Morgan without wanting her more. He watched her move, irritated to see some other guy’s arms around her and also relieved it wasn’t him in the ring. Then irritated that she was there in the first place. He was trying to avoid her, not see her shapely legs in shorts or let his eyes linger on her breasts.

Fire crept up the arm of her attacker. He jerked back. Morgan slammed her elbow into his chest, shifted her weight like her brother had told her and flung him over her hip.

The boys laughed.

“Morgan,” Connor sighed. “You’re not supposed to cheat.”

“It’s not cheating if I win,” she retorted.

“What happens when someone doesn’t fall for it?”

She rolled her eyes at him then smiled at the guy she’d thrown down. She offered her hand and pulled him up.

“You have the advantage of a low center of balance. Use that,” Connor told her. “For someone tall, that lets you use their weight against them.”

“She’s beat the past three guys, Connor,” Adam said. “Maybe she should be teaching us, not you.”

“Not until she does it right,” was the snappy reply. Connor’s gaze shifted to Beck.

Beck waited to see if the elder brother gave any indication that he knew about last night. Connor smiled, which Beck took as a negative.

“One more, sis,” Connor said.

“Fine,” Morgan said.

“Beck.”

Morgan went rigid. Her back was to him, but Beck couldn’t help the side of him that wanted to see her face that moment. He loved the idea of teasing her, even if it ended up with him getting his ass kicked by a girl.

“No, I’m done,” Morgan said carefully.

“He’s taller than the others. Maybe you’ll listen when I tell you to use your lower center of gravity instead of fire,” Conner returned.

“No worries, Connor,” Beck said casually. “If she’s done, she’s done.” Every fiber of his being told him to stop there, but he couldn’t help but want to get a jab in while he had the chance. He was far too frustrated – and attracted to her – not to want to see her flush. “Besides, I don’t want you kicking my ass, Connor, if I mess up.”

Connor laughed. “Yeah, true.”

Morgan whirled.

Beck smiled, loving the look on her face and the spark in her eyes.

Your turn
. He mouthed to her. She sneaked a hasty glance at Connor, and he realized she was afraid to tell her brother about last night.

“So you won’t fight me, because you’re afraid of my brother,” she said, planting one hand on her hip.

“I’ll be moving out of the way,” Isaac said, shifting away.

Beck shrugged, reminded of a similar conversation from yesterday. It was a button, and yes, it felt good to push it. In a public setting, nothing was going to happen, especially with Connor there.

“Go ahead, Beck,” Connor said. “You’re the only one I trust here.”

“Beck?” Morgan raised an eyebrow at him. “He sleeps with every girl at school.”

“Only the blondes,” Beck corrected and winked.

She flinched physically before her face flushed deep crimson.

“I’ll go one more round,” she said.

“You sure?” Beck asked.

“I insist.”

“Nice knowing you, Beck,” Adam said quietly.

Beck stepped onto the mat. He really didn’t mind the thought of putting his hands on her again.

“Don’t worry,” he told Connor. “I’ll go easy on her.”

Conner smiled. “I’m not worried about her.”

“Hey, Beck, watch out. She has a killer – “

Smack! Beck was driven back a few steps as Morgan’s first kick landed at his temple. His ears rang.

“ – roundhouse,” Isaac warned. “Sorry.”

“Morgan! You don’t use full force!” Connor barked.

“His head is hard enough. He’ll be fine, Connor,” she replied.

“No, no, I deserved that one,” Beck added quickly. He met Morgan’s gaze. She was smiling proudly.

Connor looked at him quizzically.

 “I wasn’t expecting someone so small to kick so high,” Beck said and shook his head. He squared off with Morgan, whose hands were up in a ready position. “You hit hard.”

“I have to. People like to take out their issues on me,” she snapped.

“You should probably stay away from people like that.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re here in the guys’ gym this morning why?”

“For picking a fight with one of the girls in dance class,” Connor answered.

Beck forced himself not to smile. “So my talk yesterday didn’t work?”

“Which one?” Morgan challenged.

“Am I missing something?” Connor asked warily.

As if also afraid of Connor finding out about last night, Morgan launched at him. Unaccustomed to sparring with girls, Beck didn’t want to make the first strike for fear of hurting her. Even if she held nothing back on him, he planned to pull his punches and let her win.

She hit hard and well, her stature and size giving her the advantage of speed. Beck blocked one kick only for her elbow to land in his ribs. He snatched her wrist and spun her, but before he could pin her against him, she slammed her heel into his instep and threw her weight, the way her brother told her to. Beck lost his grip, and she slapped him hard enough that he laughed, feeling her frustration with him.

“Good, Morgan, good!” Connor cried.

Fire magick was creeping into Beck. Decker was right; the element made Beck want to engage her rather than retreat, as he planned. Their brief touching lit his blood on fire in a way he’d never felt before. He wanted her in a way that he didn’t think possible: more than physically. Her fire and her wit were total turn ons as well.

“Alright,” he said, flashing a smile. “Now, I’m ready.” His cheek burned from her slap.

The guys laughed.

He assessed her stance. He had a feeling that – on their feet – she’d win. She was quick and able to maneuver quickly, with a repertoire that relied upon kicks and punches. Those required distance. No, he wasn’t going to beat her on their feet.

On the ground, however, where his size became an advantage he could use it to overpower her; He reasoned that her ability to kick or punch would be nullified. Of course, he had to get her on the ground, first. He might end up black and blue.

Suddenly, he wanted to win. He wasn’t sure why, except that it mattered to him that she saw he wasn’t going to back down. Whatever her issue was with guys, she clearly was accustomed to them running from her or her brother. Her two hits hurt. He really wasn’t too keen on being a punching bag today. He dealt with enough of that from Dawn.

Morgan kicked at him again.

Beck kept his blows gentle and his blocks even gentler, not wanting to hurt her, even accidentally. He wanted to win – his way. The way that his brother and mother and everyone else seemed to think was the wrong way. He wanted to win without anyone getting hurt.

He knew better than to put a hold on her when on their feet. She knew how to use her body weight, even if she cheated with magick. Instead, he waited for an opening to put her on the ground. It took a few minutes, but finally, she overextended on a kick. With her balance off, she was vulnerable. Beck swept her front leg and snatched her as she pitched forward, rolling backwards with her to keep her from hitting the ground and getting hurt.

Her smaller frame landed on top of his and froze for a tiny moment. No doubt, his magick zipped through her the same way hers did him. Morgan leapt up, or tried, but he swept her feet before she was solidly standing and snatched her wrist, yanking her back down again.

He rolled her beneath him, struggling to grip her wrists.

Fire crept up his arms. Instinctively, he released her and jerked away, his natural response to move. The distraction and shift of his weight was enough for her to jam her knee between them and push him away with one leg and her hands.

“Omigod!” he muttered. “I can’t believe I fell for it!”

The others laughed.

Morgan rolled onto her stomach, out from under him. Recovered, Beck stretched forward and snatched her hips, pulling her back down again. This time, he rested his entire weight on her. It took a moment, but he finally managed to grip her wrists and pin them above her head. She wriggled beneath him, unable to throw his weight.

“Come on. Tap out,” he said, his lips close enough to almost touch her ear.

Fire crept up his arms again.

“Not gonna work this time,” he whispered.

“You’re a jerk, Beck!” she hissed.

“Tap out.”

“You tap out! Or I’ll tell my brother.”

“What? That we kissed?”

Her breath caught. “I was going to tell him you treated me like crap last night!” There was actual pain in her voice. He hadn’t realized how much his comment to Dawn really did hurt Morgan.

“Go ahead, and I’ll tell him we kissed.”

The flames grew hotter, brighter.

“Fine. If you’re going to cheat …” he murmured. Beck pushed his earth magick into her, subduing the flames. His magick took hold and soothed her agitated fire.

She sighed. Her body went limp beneath his.

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