Winter Fire (Witchling Series) (7 page)

For the first time in her life, she was going on a date, even if it was at the request of a bigfoot she met in the forest.

You do not want to be in the forest after dark.
Sam motioned to the sky. Full of clouds, it was hard to tell the time, until dusk began stealing daylight.

 Morgan glanced at her watch. It was almost dinnertime anyway. She glanced around her, not recalling the path she took to get here. As if sensing her unasked question, the trees to her right lowered branches to the ground to sweep away a path through the snow.

“It was nice to meet you, Sam,” she said. “You’re sure you’re not lost?”

I am not,
he confirmed.

“Okay, then I’ll see you again sometime.” She started into the forest. The trees seemed to know where to lead her. And, although she didn’t remember, she trusted them. They led her back to the driveway, and she stepped out of the forest. Daylight was dimming, and the windows of the main schoolhouse glowed with light.

She liked the sight of the warm light and loved the fireplace in the living area. It was bright and burning, the flames dancing in a way that made her want to dance with them. This was a happy place; even the fire confined to a tiny, little hearth was cheerful.

Morgan summoned a flame from across the room, and it leapt into the air, landing in her outstretched palm. She smiled at it, its excited spirit infusing her with energy and lifting her melancholy.

She balled it up and flung it back towards the fireplace. Her aim was off; she lobbed the flame into the brick lining the hearth instead. Laughing, Morgan watched the flame wriggle back to join the rest of the fire.

When she turned around to go to the dining room, she saw half the kids gathered around the entrance, watching her play with fire. Connor rolled his eyes at her while the other teens giggled and whispered. Morgan’s face felt hot, but she refused to run away, as much as she wanted to. Instead, she strode into the dining room and chose a seat, away from her brother.

The guys congregated at one end of the table and the girls on the other. Connor was happy; she loved seeing him like that, even if it bummed her out. Alone in a crowded room, Morgan almost sighed. If she’d paid more attention in class, she’d remember some of their names. The other girls all knew each other and were talking excitedly.

Except for one. Morgan’s gaze settled on the quiet features of a pretty girl with Hispanic coloring and sad, dark eyes that were focused on her plate. The other girls seemed to talk around her. The chair next to her was empty, and Morgan rose, moving to sit beside her.

She didn’t like seeing others in pain. Besides, she needed to make an effort to fit in. Or pretend to. Or just to seem less likely to run off in two weeks, like she planned.

“I’m Morgan,” she said to the quiet girl.

“I know. We’re in like, three classes together.”

“I don’t pay attention in class.”

The girl giggled. “I know. Amber was so mad at you the other day.”

“She was?” Morgan asked, surprised. “Why?”

“You told her you weren’t going to do your homework.”

“Oh, yeah. She didn’t seem mad.” Morgan didn’t recall anyone screaming at her.

“You don’t know Amber. When she stops smiling, it means she’s mad.”

“Ah, well. Sometimes I say things I shouldn’t,” Morgan said. “I don’t remember your name.”

“Sonya.”

“What’s your element?”

“Earth. You’re fire, right?”

Morgan nodded. She dug into the first course, glancing up as someone else entered the room. Tall, sexy Beck was greeted by a chorus of hellos from the guys and the envious whispers from the girls. He didn’t look twice in her direction, but his gaze did linger on one of the girls.

Morgan leaned around Sonya with what discretion she could muster to see the tall, gorgeous blonde girl at the end of the table. She remembered seeing her in one class. Orientation maybe?

Morgan only remembered her, because the girl was so pretty and perfect, everything Morgan wanted to be, but wasn’t.

Beck didn’t even glance her way when he walked in. Wouldn’t he smile if he was really interested? The idea of having to be around him to keep her promise to the bigfoot and watching him flirt around with gorgeous blondes made her mad.

“Boys suck,” she muttered.

“Yeah,” Sonya agreed. She seemed sadder.

“Did you just break up with someone?” Morgan asked.

“No. Well, maybe, but not like, a guy. My best friend went crazy and did something bad. So now, we’re not best friends anymore,” Sonya explained. “I’m like, tainted by association, so no one here wants to talk to me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m talking to you.”

“But you’re …” Sonya giggled. “… you’re a troublemaker.”

“Rebel,” Morgan corrected her. “I’m rebelling against the system.”

“What system?”

Morgan looked around and shrugged. Sonya’s giggle turned into a laugh. Morgan relaxed, her magick settling to see the girl no longer troubled. The flames of the candles nearest her stretched towards her.

“I’ve never met a girl fire witchling,” Sonya said, watching them.

“My mother was one, too. Connor – my brother – says it means I have a horrible temper.”

“I don’t think elements determine that. I mean, I know two air witchlings who have like, the total opposite personalities. One is legitimately psycho and the other so sweet. I imagine they enhance who we already are.”

“That makes sense. Connor has a temper, too, and he’s a water element.”

“He’s so sexy.” Sonya leaned around Morgan to get a glimpse of her brother.

“You think so?”

“He’s totally hot. He’s got like that bad boy charm.”

Morgan studied her brother. With dark hair that swept over one green eye, their mother’s Italian coloring, and their father’s tall, lean frame, Connor wasn’t ugly. He had a quiet voice and was too observant for her comfort. He always knew when she was about to get into trouble.

“I guess. He’s my brother, so I just see the jerk who used to push me down when we were growing up,” she said. “We’re Irish twins, born ten months apart, same calendar year.”

“You must’ve been really close growing up.”

“Sorta.” Until her fourteenth birthday, when her parents divorced and The Incident happened. Morgan focused on eating, not about to go into her warped family history.

Chapter Five

The food was hearty enough that she considered going to bed after dinner. Any thought she had of going with Beck to see the lights was dashed when she saw him looking at the sexy blonde, and she assumed the invite was revoked in favor of a prettier girl.

Not that she blamed him, but it was going to make it harder for her to protect him. A few of the students moved to the living area to watch football on TV while most filtered out back to the brightly lit Christmas tree.

“You want to go out back?” Sonya asked as the two of them rose from dinner.

“Not really. I’m not a fan of Christmas.”

“Lame.”

“Omigod!” Morgan exclaimed. “Lame? You don’t even know why!”

“It’s Christmas,” Sonya said emphatically. “Everyone likes presents and stuff.”

“I don’t.”

“You really are rebelling against everything normal.”

Morgan laughed. “I guess I am.”

“Okay, I’m going for minty cocoa and s’mores.”

“Have fun. I’m probably going to my room.”

Sonya appeared as if she wanted to say something, but stopped and smiled. She followed a few other girls out the back door into the Square. Morgan watched her, gratified to see the girl in much better spirits. It just wasn’t right for anyone else to be in worse spirits than she was in. It made her feel better – even if just a little – to know she helped someone else.

Content to return to her room for the night, she watched Sonya disappear out the back door and turned away with a quick step. Only to smack into someone tall and solid. Strange magick crept through her, gentle and calm, lulling the sparks of fire in her blood into quiet. Strong hands steadied her, and she regained her composure quickly, putting distance between them. Her sparks flared to life again, the strange moment making more of an impact than she expected.

“Touching you is like putting my hand in a light socket,” Beck joked.

She crossed her arms.

“I meant that in a good way.”

“There’s no good way to put your hand in a light socket.”

“You’re not going to cut me any slack, are you?” he asked, a smile crossing his features.

He was close enough that his magick crept back to her. She resisted the urge to swat the invisible sensation away; she didn’t want to be calm and reasonable. She wanted to keep her distance from him. It was bad enough that he agitated her magick and made her thoughts buzz around like angry bees.

“Are you still thinking about the lights?” he asked.

“You still want me to go?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Because you were totally eyeballing that blonde! Why was she jealous of someone she just met and wasn’t voluntarily going out with in the first place?

“Alright,” she said.

“Is that a yes?” He raised an eyebrow.

She nodded.

“I’ve never had to work so hard for a date.” Beck laughed. “I guess anything worth having is worth fighting for, no?”

She flushed, completely unsettled by his words and the wink that accompanied them.

The awkward silence grew longer. She looked everywhere but at him, not sure of what to do with herself.

“I’ll pull my car around,” he said finally. “You need a jacket?”

She nodded and took the opening to flee towards the stairs. Nearly breathless by the time she reached the top, Morgan hurried to her room and let out a huge breath when she was safe inside.

She was going on a date! With him!

This was all wrong. It wasn’t really a date, she tried to remind herself. She was going because the bigfoot wanted her to go out with the best looking guy in the universe.

Morgan subdued the urge to squeal or dance or something and grabbed her jacket. With a few deep breaths, she composed herself and went downstairs, past the guys watching football in the living area and onto the porch.

Beck was waiting beside a dark car. He jumped in place to keep warm, and opened the door for her when she approached. She didn’t dare look at him as she dropped into the warm front seat of the nice car. He slid into the driver’s seat a moment later and put the car into gear.

He was quiet until they reached the main road through town.

“So, tell me about you,” he said.

“I’m a fire-breathing dragon in the shape of a girl. I was born and raised in up-state New York and have been playing with fire since I was five,” she replied.

“Nice,” he said with a faint smile. “I’m surprised your magick works for you already. Most of the kids who come here have to find the trigger to unlock it.”

“My mom taught me,” she said.

“That’s cool,” he said. “One brother? Any more?”

“No.”

“Parents still living?”

“Yep. Divorced when I was fourteen. Dad took me. Mom got Connor. Nasty split.”

“Sounds like it.”

She looked at him. “You?”

“Nothing nearly as exciting as a dragon,” he started. “Earth element, born to the Mistress of Dark. Makes for an interesting childhood. My twin is the Master of Dark.”

“Wait, you’re the Master of Light?” she asked, startled.

He laughed. “Don’t seem so surprised! If you paid attention in school, you would know that. It’s like, day one.”

“I’m not surprised at all!” she replied archly. “I was going to say it fits you. But I didn’t know it!”

“You think it fits me?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I guess you don’t know me well enough,” he said.

“Why would you say that?” She didn’t like the sound of bitterness in his voice; it wasn’t him. He was happy, and the anger didn’t belong.

Beck glanced at her.

“The only thing wrong with you appears to be your choice of girls,” she continued. “Only blondes? Knocking up crazy ones that you now need to be protected from?” She shook her head. “Not good.”

“Rough lessons, but I learned them,” he said. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”

“Everyone does. But you’re not a bad person.”

“Wow,” he murmured. “Crunchy on the outside, sweet on the inside.”

“Crunchy?”

He smiled.

“You can go do your protector role as the Master of Light, and I’ll watch your back,” she added. It made more sense now, why Sam was worried. If Beck was occupied by taking care of all the witchlings in the world, he wouldn’t know until it was too late that he was in trouble himself.

“You’re serious?” Beck asked. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me, but you’d do that for some random stranger?”

“You do that for the witchlings. It’s no different.”

“But it’s kind of my job. You’re just … nice. I’m not used to that.”

The way he said it left her puzzled. Morgan studied him, trying to understand where he was coming from.

“Your girlfriends are all jerks?” she asked.

“The serious ones. You got it right about my taste in women.”

“Well, I’m not a jerk.” Her face flamed. “Or your girlfriend.”

“Keep it up, and you might be.”

“No, I’m …” she sought something to say. Flustered, what came out made little sense. “I’m here to see the lights.”

“Even though you hate Christmas.” Beck’s laugh was warm. “One day at a time, right? It’s my family motto.”

“Yes,” she mumbled.

“You play sports?”

She almost sighed when he steered the awkward conversation in another direction. They spoke about sports and the differences between winters in the east and west coast the remainder of the way to the river.

The lights drew her from a distance, and she fell silent, fascinated by the displays of Christmas lights and trees lining the river walk in Priest River, the mid-sized town nearest the boarding school. The boardwalks were crowded. Beck paid for parking close to the boardwalk and turned off the car.

Morgan got out, gazing around her with a combination of glee and despair. She missed holidays. She hadn’t celebrated in four years. She was surprised to find how much she yearned to feel that sense of exhilaration and anticipation, of wonder and magic. The emotions were brittle now, not quite fully formed, in case the memories returned and reminded her why she hated this time of year.