Winter Fire (Witchling Series) (22 page)

She smiled. They started walking towards a truck at the edge of the clearing.

“You probably shouldn’t wrestle with the boys anymore. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you,” he advised. “You clearly need to learn to dance.”

“I would’ve beat you, if you hadn’t cheated,” she retorted.

“Right. Like you didn’t cheat to win with the others.”

“It’s okay if I do it.”

“I’ll give you another shot to beat me at a wrestling match,” he said with a wink.

Beck laughed at her gasp. He wrapped his arms around her for a quick hug and kissed her forehead. Morgan’s magick leapt to life in response.

He opened the door to the truck for her, and she climbed in. The truck was already running and the interior warm. Beck released her hand reluctantly.

“Straight there, Uncle Ben,” he directed his uncle. “No leaving campus, Morgan.”

“Yes, sir,” the two of them chorused.

Beck rolled his eyes. Morgan smiled at him. This time, he didn’t hide the side of him that she liked. He didn’t flip back into the aloof jokester; he stayed open and warm and confident, a combination that made her swoon inside.

“I’ll see you later,” Beck said. “Lunch?”

“Definitely,” she replied.

He closed the door and stepped back from the car.

“He’s got it bad,” Ben said.

Morgan grinned. She was tired – but wired, her body zipping with adrenaline. She waved at Beck as Ben pulled away.

He dropped her off at the school, and she climbed the stairs. The air smelled of last night’s bonfire in the Square. Too distracted by thoughts of Beck, she didn’t realize how quiet the main floor was, until she stood at the top of the stairwell leading to the girls’ dorm rooms.

She turned then. The whole school smelled of breakfast, but none of the students were milling in the dining room or waiting in the living area.

Morgan shook her head and went to her room. She may not be able to dance, but she found herself waltzing across her room to the bathroom, humming and daydreaming about another night spent in Beck’s arms.

An ugly thought prodded her. What would he think when he found out about The Incident? What happened in two weeks, when she turned eighteen and Gordon got there? She wasn’t staying.

She pushed the thoughts away and stripped out of her clothing to take a shower.

Morgan dressed quickly, aware she was already running late for class. She trotted down the stairs, her mood the best it had been in years.

The ground floor was still empty of students. Morgan paused, puzzled by the lack of activity in what was usually the busiest area of the school in the morning. The dining table was set but there were no dirty plates indicating anyone had been down.

It almost felt like the world had ended, and no one told her.

She heard a shout from the direction of the back door that led to the Square. Morgan went to the door and froze.

Chapter Fourteen

The students and teachers were all in the square, seated or standing, with many covered in ash. For a moment, all she saw was the remains of the Christmas tree. It had been burnt to the ground and was nothing but a black skeleton. Her eyes moved from there to the boys’ dorms opposite the gravel road. The roof was charred, and the trees behind it had caught fire as well.

 Stunned by the scene in the Square, she stepped outside to see the damage to the forest and was horrified to see how far the fire spread, before it was put out. Pine trees were blackened as far as she could see in a long, neat row. The fire had been carefully created and contained, no wider than four trees. It wasn’t a natural burn. Fire wasn’t picky about what direction it went, which meant someone had been guiding it.

“So, what? You hate Christmas and decided to ruin ours as well?”

Morgan didn’t realize the students nearby were staring at her. She faced the speaker, Isaac. He looked exhausted, with dark circles beneath his eyes and his hair singed, as if he’d gotten too close to the fire.

“Morgan wouldn’t do this,” Connor snapped, standing. He, too, looked tired as he strode towards her.

“Everyone heard her say she wanted to burn the tree down,” one of the girls seconded. “You heard Amber. Only a fire witchling could’ve done this.”

Morgan’s heart slammed into her chest. Pain and anger were suddenly all around her, as more people realized she was there.

“I don’t see any other fire witchlings,” Isaac said. “You’re sister’s been a screw up since she got here. They should’ve sent her to the Dark Campus!”

“Back off!” Connor shoved him.

“She almost killed Ronnie!” another girl cried. “The roof collapsed on him!”

Morgan couldn’t speak. The amount of hurt around her was overwhelming, and the looks everyone gave her made her want to cry.

“She didn’t do this,” Sonya said.

“Oh, the killer speaks!”

Sonya flushed, her hurt the deepest of all. But she raised her head. “Morgan is the only good person here. You can all go to hell!”

“Then why isn’t she a Light witchling?”

Their words were like blows, and Morgan flinched at each one.

“Stop it!” Connor shouted. “The next person who dares insult my sister will have their head knocked off by me!”

No one spoke. He waited a second, then turned to Morgan. She saw it then – the look in his eyes that said he, too, doubted her.

“Connor – “

“C’mon. You need to be somewhere else right now,” he said gruffly. He took her arm and pulled her back into the school.

“Connor, I swear to you, I didn’t do this!” she said, recovering at last.

“Where were you last night?” he demanded.

“What?”

“You’re the only one who wasn’t accounted for this morning. It’s kind of suspicious that you threatened the tree and then disappeared after it caught on fire!”

“Connor,” she whispered, wounded beyond anything she thought possible. “You know I’d never hurt anyone or anything.”

His face softened, and he rubbed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so tired. Everyone is blaming you, and I couldn’t find you, and I started to think, well, after you showed up yesterday all bloody and Amber and Beck said you’re not fitting in, that maybe you just lost it.”

Devastated, she felt tears rise.

“Please, just tell me where you were, so I can tell Amber, and she won’t call our parents.”

Morgan hesitated. She’d been with Beck, and Connor would kill him if he found out. Not only that, but the no fraternization and no fighting rules at school were the two rules that Amber repeated would call for instant suspension.

If she wanted to see Beck again and stay in school until she was old enough to run away, she couldn’t tell Connor or Amber where she was.

“Is there going to be an investigation?” she asked. “I mean, I’m not the only fire witchling on the planet.”

Connor stared at her.

“It only has to last a week and a half. When I’m eighteen, I’ll be out of everyone’s hair for good,” she reasoned.

“What? Morgan, what –“

“I’m not going home again, Connor. Ever,” she replied. “I guess I could run away earlier and just hide out for two weeks. Then there’s nothing anyone can do to me,”

“There is no way on earth I’ll let you do that!” he said. “You didn’t do this either!” He motioned to the Square. “Just tell me where you were last night, so you have an alibi!”

Morgan drew a shuddering breath.

“I’m old enough to take care of myself,” she said. “Thank you, Connor, for always believing in me.” She walked away from him, not breaking into a run until she was at the stairs. She ignored his calls and raced up the stairwell then slammed the door to her room, locking it.

Last night was the best of her life. It was only fitting that today was one of the worst. Morgan struggled to catch her breath, not wanting to break down and cry. She let herself hope that things would get better when she was with Beck, and now this.

Someone set her up. But it wasn’t this thought that made her feel worse. If she had been here, she could’ve stopped this. The fire would answer to her, and she could’ve prevented all the grief and distress she saw on the faces of the students.

She could’ve protected them, and she failed. Yet she wouldn’t trade her night with Beck for anything.

She didn’t know what to think. Except that she wanted to run. The room was too confining, but she wasn’t eighteen yet. If they found her, she’d be sent home to New York, and she’d never escape, if that happened.

Morgan wiped away a few stray tears and went to the drawer where she kept the black rock. She opened it and rustled around, surprised to see a hole in the bottom of the drawer. It was singed by black, as if the rock had burned through the bottom to the drawer below.

She opened the second drawer and found a similar hole. The rock had gone through all four drawers and rested on the wood flooring beneath the dresser. She knelt on hands and knees to retrieve it.

It was cold, and her flames automatically warmed her hand where she held it. They could do nothing to warm the stone, though, just take away the sense of frostbite she felt whenever she touched it.

What was it? She never thought twice about it before, but today, its evil was apparent. It glowed, no longer dormant. No longer waiting for something.

She couldn’t help the instinct that told her this … thing was alive, like each of the flames in a fire. Unlike a fire – which could be good or evil, depending on the emotions of its creator and the people around it – this rock was pure Darkness.

It didn’t belong here, around someone like the Master of Light. It was the opposite of Beck’s warm, light presence, and suddenly, she couldn’t help thinking that she never should’ve brought the rock here in the first place.

Not that it mattered. She’d already ruined everything, just by being who she was. The witchlings would spend Christmas helping to rebuild the boys’ dorms.

She didn’t know what would happen to her.

Morgan placed the rock on top of her dresser and stared at it.

Then why isn’t she a Light witchling?

Of all the comments the kids made, this was the one that hurt the most. Sam said she was stuck between, because her parents were both Dark. Her father and uncle said it was because she was a bad person, like her mother and every other fire witchling.

Either way, there was one truth: she wasn’t a Light witchling. Clearly, the others felt like she didn’t belong there in the first place. Maybe she didn’t.

Then why did Beck like her? Why had she always felt there was something between them outside her control? He was the Master of Light. He couldn’t be with someone Dark.

He deserved better than to be with someone stuck in-between.

Morgan sat on her bed and cried. Her heart felt like it was breaking, and the rock made her whole room cold.

A knock at her door jarred her out of her thoughts. She didn’t want to deal with Connor or the other kids.

“Go away, Connor!” she called.

“It’s me.” Beck’s voice made her heart race then plunge to her feet.

Morgan hesitated. She really did want to see him again but was afraid of what he’d say.

She wiped her eyes and opened the door. Beck offered a tight smile, appearing distracted. His eyes settled on her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, focusing on her. He moved into the room and touched her arm, his magick soothing her distress.

“You didn’t see the tree?” she asked.

“Yeah, I did.”

Morgan’s eyes watered. She wrung her hands then wrapped her arms around him. Beck sighed and hugged her. He was warm, the familiar feel of his body stilling some of her fear.

“They can’t be blaming you,” he breathed.

“They are.”

“You weren’t even here!”

“Connor says it looks suspicious. But even if I didn’t do it, I could’ve stopped it, and I wasn’t here to do even that!” she whispered.

“Did you tell them you were with me?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“No fraternization policy. Amber says it’s instant suspension, so I’d get sent away, and Connor would kill you.”

“None of this is your fault. If anything, I should’ve been here. It’s my job to protect the witchlings. I’m failing right and left.”

His pain disturbed her much more than her own. Morgan pushed her fire into him, until the hurt was consumed by it.

“Thanks. Doesn’t change the facts, though,” he said, amused.

“This isn’t your fault,” she replied and pulled her head back to gaze up at him. “You are the best person I know. But you can’t save the world or prevent everything bad from happening. You can only really pick which battles you choose to fight.”

Beck studied her. “I think that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“My self-defense instructor used to tell me that,” she admitted. “He’s right, Beck. You can’t think that about yourself.”

“You’re so sweet.” He rested his forehead against hers. “All we have to do is tell Amber you were with me. I’ll ask her not to call your parents. She’ll listen to me.”

Morgan was quiet, listening. Beck held her. Her fire magick was agitated, but touching her brought them both some peace. She was hiding her face from him, and he assumed it was because she was crying. Morgan was private and trusted no one, which was why he was thrilled that she had hugged him. No part of him wanted to leave her to see Amber. Kissing her last night was unlike anything he expected. The intensity of her magick promised to make their nights together incredible, and he’d been nearly swept away by her passion. She was too inexperienced to know how to control either her magick or her hormones, and her response to him was raw, intense.