Winter Fire (Witchling Series) (17 page)

“Okay.”

“Walking away.” He stepped back and winked. “Don’t want you to beat me up again.”

There were moments when she felt the connection between them and believed she could not only trust him with her secrets, but with her life as well. Then there were those where she sensed he was trying to put distance between them. Right now, he was trying to do the latter.

He turned away and started through the forest.

She didn’t quite understand him. The changes in his behavior left her trying to determine who he really was: the guy who kissed her as if she meant something to him or the guy who only slept with blondes and was just being nice.

“You okay?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Fine.” She trailed. 

They said nothing else the entire journey back to the schoolhouse. Beck walked up the stairs to the school and opened the door for her. His smile was friendly, his gaze on someone in the living area. He barely seemed aware of her.

When she stepped inside, she saw why. The hot blonde who just arrived was standing in the foyer, dressed in ski gear. Sonya was at her side, and the two seemed to be waiting for a third person to join them.

Morgan felt horrible. Beck didn’t even say farewell.

She went to her room without looking back, angry and embarrassed. Those small moments that meant something to her – meant nothing to him.

She cried. She knew it was stupid, but the confrontation in the forest left her unsettled, while the on-off again of Beck confused her. She hated feeling so vulnerable around Beck.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Just a minute!” she called.

She splashed water on her face, hoping her eyes weren’t too red. She had no idea who to expect and went to the door.

She barely recognized the tall youth in the doorway. He was gangly with glasses and a nervous smile.

“Hi. I’m Adam. I, uh, was wondering if you’d like to go to the fundraiser dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.

Tall and nerdy. Safe. The kind of guy her brother tried to get her to date more than once. Morgan crossed her arms.

“Did my brother send you up?” she asked.

“No,” he replied. “My girlfriend left for the holidays, and Beck said he thought you might need a date.”

“Need a date?” she demanded. “Why would I need a date?”

“What?” Red crept up his face, and he ducked his head. “No, I mean … I guess I need a date, and he said you’re free. I thought you might need one, too.”

She wanted to ask why Beck hadn’t asked her then remembered: she wasn’t blonde. Wounded once more, Morgan sighed. Adam was cute, in a geeky way, and clearly not interested in her, if he had a girlfriend. He was asking because there were no other options. Worse, Beck made the assumption no one else had bothered to ask her, either. Like it was common knowledge that she wasn’t going to have a date. It made her angry that he assumed something like that. What if she didn’t want a date?

It didn’t matter that she didn’t know anything about this charity dinner before Adam invited her to go.

“So you’ll go with me?” Adam asked, uncomfortable.

“You act like you don’t want me to say yes,” she observed.

“It’s awkward. I have a girlfriend but she’s gone, and I hate these things.”

“Then why go?”

“My parents do business with Beck’s. We kids have to go. You’re kinda funny, so I thought you’d make it less painful.”

“Hhmmmm,” she said, considering. He was honest, if nothing else. He wasn’t asking because he was interested, but because he wanted someone to go with him.

“Besides, you can set the table or something on fire, like a distraction, so we can escape early.”

Morgan smiled. “Just as friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He looked surprised. For a moment, he said nothing.

“It’s at one of the ski lodges up here. It starts at seven. We can leave here at six-thirty,” he said. “It’s dressy. Is that okay?”

Morgan considered. She brought the prom dress she wore last year with the intent of wearing it again this year. It wouldn’t matter that it was the same, when she was in a new school. Then again, she planned on leaving in two weeks, so she wouldn’t be wearing it at prom anyway.

“I’ll be ready,” she said.

“Oh, good.” He appeared genuinely pleased. “I’ll see you later.”

He left.

Adam seemed happy she was going without being really interested in taking her. Morgan stared after him. Maybe every witchling male was weird? If her father, Connor and Beck were accurate examples, then she began to think there was something off about witchling men.

Was Beck trying to set her up with someone? Was this his way of telling her that he wasn’t interested, after kissing her last night and acting like he was?

There was no way of thinking about the exchange that left her anything but perplexed.

She went to her closet to check her dress. It might need ironing. She’d been too anxious about the judge or her father keeping her in New York that she packed in a matter of a couple minutes.

Opening the closet door, she examined her dress with a critical eye. True, it was better suited to warm weather than winter, but it didn’t look to be in too bad of shape. A warm iron should fix it. If not, she might be able to steam out the wrinkles. The mermaid-style dress was black and white with a sash the color of her hair: red. It was fitted to mid-thigh then flared into ruffles that reached her ankles. She had no idea if it was formal enough, but she had no other option, either.

She wasn’t going to sweat it. The dress fit well, and she’d look decent in it. If she went wrinkled or in something that was off-season, she didn’t care. If Beck wanted her there, he would’ve asked her, and Adam seemed only to be concerned about not going alone. She didn’t care enough about impressing people, and seeing Beck with another girl – probably the blonde …

“This is gonna suck,” she said to herself. 

Chapter Twelve

Beck had hoped not to have class with Morgan the next morning. He’d been good about avoiding her during school, but he ran out of excuses to ditch and showed up in Advanced Magick just as Amber started. Morgan was seated in the middle of class. She was texting someone, and when Biji started giggling, he figured out who.

“Phones away, girls,” Amber said cheerfully. “Morgan, you did your homework again today?”

“Yes, Amber.”

“Two days in a row. Now we’re getting somewhere!”

Beck smiled at Amber’s pleased look. So his talk with Morgan made somewhat of a difference, though he wasn’t certain if it would matter when she turned eighteen.

Amber started collecting the projects the students completed as homework. Morgan held up a glass ball, and Amber looked at it critically.

“I’m afraid to ask what this is supposed to be,” she said.

“It’s a snowflake,” Morgan said. “On fire.”

Beck choked on a laugh.

“Alright,” Amber said. “We’ll get there. Looks like you need to spend a little more time with your mentor.”

“I do not need to spend time with him,” Morgan snapped.

“She needs an attitude adjustment,” one of the boys said. “She hates Christmas.”

“Damn right I do. I’d burn down that tree if I could.”

The class went silent. Morgan was pissed; her air was sizzling in a way that made Beck uneasy. Amber gave him a look that said, see what I’m dealing with.

“Anyway,” Amber began. “We’re breaking down into groups this morning. Find your elemental colleagues and pick a corner. Morgan, you’re with Beck.”

Morgan twisted to see him. He smiled and she raised her eyebrows. Her plump lips were in a pout that reminded him how awesome it was to kiss her while her sparkling eyes made him want to feel her fire in his blood again.

He waved her to the back of class. She was mad at him, that much he could see.

“Where do we start?” he asked as she maneuvered her chair to sit across from him. “Your amulet isn’t working, I see.”

Her face fell. She tucked the clear crystal into her shirt, her eyes on his. Beck’s glowed softly with pure, white light, marking him as the Master of Light. She met his gaze, troubled.

“Because I’m an in-between,” she murmured.

“It’s not bad, Morgan,” he assured her.

“But yours is so pretty. Everyone’s is pretty but mine.”

“Yours will be beautiful like you.” The words escaped before he could stop them. He meant them. He just didn’t mean to say them.

Morgan grew red, but the anger faded from her features.

“Sometimes it takes some of us a little longer to figure things out,” he added. “It’s nothing to worry about. Okay?”

She nodded.

“You doing better the past couple of days?” he asked.

“I’m trying.”

“It’s not so bad, is it?”

“Nothing here is,” she agreed. “But it’s not here I’m worried about.”

“You, um, want to talk?”

“No.”

“You know you can, right? I’ll listen.”

Morgan studied him. “Yeah, I do know that.”

The admission was small, but Beck felt like he won the lottery. She almost trusted him. Not enough to talk, but enough to know she could, if she needed to.

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” he said, grinning.

“Walking away. Getting nowhere,” she replied in a tart tone. “In fact, I’m done for now. See you later.” Morgan got up and left.

Beck watched her, wanting to laugh at the brazen flaunting of the rules – and him. Amber looked after her wild student, clearly frazzled, but didn’t try to stop her. She gave him a look, one he knew meant he couldn’t sit there grinning. He stood.

“Morgan, wait,” he called, trotting after her.

She stopped in the hallway, gazing up at him. Caught by the vibrant green of her eyes, he stared a minute too long.

“I can show you something, if you’re interested. My magick.”

She was quiet for a moment then nodded. Beck led her out of the schoolhouse and into the forest. The trees swept snow out of the way to create a path, and a branch tipped its snow on him.

“Hey, now,” he warned the tree playfully. “We have company.”

Morgan giggled from behind him. He went a short distance, until they were far enough not to see the schoolhouse. He silently asked the earth to clear a spot for them and waited. Snow melted and a patch of ground appeared. Beck sat.

Morgan sat near him, her warm scent sweeping over him at her movement. Her hair brushed his hand, sending electricity through him.

“Have you learned to meditate?”

She shook her head.

“It’s simple. Mainly just controlling your breathing and clear your mind.”

Her fire magick was too agitated. It was distracting him. Beck reached across and took her hand. His earth magick suppressed the fire. Morgan’s face was pink again, and she appeared to be glowing. He wasn’t certain what that meant.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

Morgan did. Beck studied her perfect features, from the long eyelashes to her pert lips and slender chin. Her hair was subdued in a ponytail.

“Breathe deeply. In. Out. In. Out.” He worked on syncing her breathing with his. “Now relax. Start with your feet. Legs, hips, back, chest, arms …” he spoke low and quiet, watching her tension release with the combination of his magick and voice. He imagined his hands drifting up her body, touching her soft skin. The erotic visions were more of a distraction, one he didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Okay. Keep one hand on me and one on the ground so I can help channel the earth magick.” He shifted closer to sit beside her and rested her hand on his thigh. Morgan put one hand on the ground. He stretched forward to push it flat, until her palm was against the ground. His touch made her fire magick surge and her breathing quicken.

“In. Out,” he said, amused.

She stabilized again, and he closed his eyes. Her magick kept him warm, and he worked on directing it to keep it from lighting his desire once more. She had no control over that aspect of her power.

When he was relaxed, he shared his earth magick with her. The moment the earth’s visions reached her, she gasped.

The magick was sharing one of its random memories. This one was of the tree in the Square. The earth showed it to them as a sapling, and Beck watched it grow among a few others in a field. The other trees around it fell to storms or snow, but the tree kept growing. Seasons passed in seconds as the tree continued to stretch towards the sky. The day came when Beck saw himself approach the tree in the field.

As customary in both the Native American beliefs of his father and his relationship with the earth, he asked it if it wanted to be a part of their celebration. The tree bowed its branches in silent agreement, its gentle spirit cheered by the invitation. Rather than cut it down, several men came to dig it up carefully, bind its long roots in gel meant to keep it hydrated when it was moved and then transported to the Square, where the tree was happy to bring joy to the students.

Beck smiled as he watched. He didn’t know why the earth chose this particular vision, especially since Morgan hated Christmas and threatened to burn down the tree. But any sort of communication with the magick brought him peace. He hoped the same was true for her.

He heard Morgan’s breath hitch and opened his eyes. Hers were squeezed closed, her breathing off again. There were tears on her face, and he frowned, puzzled. The vision meant something to her, even if he didn’t understand it.

“In. Out,” he said softly.

Her magick was swelling with her distress. He wanted to pull her into his arms to ease whatever pain she felt and kiss the plump lips.

“Stay focused on relaxing. Can you start a fire?” he asked.

A flame sprang up in front of him. The small release helped her.

“Good. Now, let it talk.”

“What?”

“It wants to talk. The earth shows you memories. Fire can do the same.”

Morgan was quiet. Beck nudged her fire with his earth magick, trying to help channel the wildness. The flame started to take shape, lashed out, then tried again.

Its story was even more disjointed than the earth’s. The flame took on rapidly changing shapes. Beck tried to follow it and was able to make out the story the earth told him. The fire was trying to mimic it, as if Morgan was focused on it. He saw a tiny tree grow in the blaze then burst into flames. It repeated twice more before she sighed.