Bewitching Fire

by Sheritta Bitikofer

  Devin didn’t have any photos of his family like that. Not after his mom died, anyway. There was one picture he remembered of when Alana was just a baby and they posed for a picture. They were happy then, but the sickly look in his mother’s countenance tainted the shot for him. He both loved and hated that photo. It was the only one he had of his family before it fell apart, but it served as a constant remembrance of why it fell apart in the first place.

  Yet, he couldn’t be sad for his own past. Not when Krystal’s was so unlike that. Somehow, her happiness made up for all the trouble he went through, because her happy childhood meant that he could enjoy her that much more now. No doubt, it was the stable family unit that made her into the woman she was today. For that, he could only be grateful.

  Krystal walked into the living room, the two steaming cups of hot chocolate in her hands. Devin seemed to be thoughtfully gazing at one of the photos perched on the mantle and she winced.

  “Oh, please don’t look at my fourth-grade school picture,” she grimaced. “I didn’t want to even go to school that day, but my mom made me.”

  He turned and took one of her cream-colored mugs from her. “I think it’s cute,” he said with a chuckle.

  “The only reason I was smiling was because Sierra stood behind the camera guy making faces to get me to laugh.”

  “She did a good job, then,” he stated before looking back up to the family photos. She wondered if he was silently comparing her picture-perfect family to his own.

  The one he appeared to be admiring the most was actually a total farce. They had all been arguing about something earlier that day, and they really didn’t want to take the picture, but her mother insisted. They didn’t have a good, recent family portrait after Krystal and Sierra grew up. She couldn’t even remember what the argument had been about, but her father cast a charm that made them laugh hysterically for no reason, just so they would look good for the picture.

  The picture was taken, and they continued to laugh until Sierra couldn’t take a breath anymore and then her father cut off the charm. Looking at it now, no one would have ever guessed that they were anything but one big, happy family. They had their squabbles, but Krystal couldn’t tell Devin any of that story. She wouldn’t tell him about their little traditions, their family huddles, their beliefs, and how grounded they were in their witchy culture that deviating from it had become something of a chore and taboo thing over the years. He would never know how estranged she wished she could be from all of it some days, and how on others she craved the connectedness and stability of those traditions. Not yet anyway.

  She sat down on the sofa and curled up her legs after she kicked off the ankle boots she had been wearing. “That fire got going pretty quick,” she remarked, looking toward the fireplace that had roared to life within such a short span of time. “It takes me forever to get one log to catch fire.”

  Whenever the fireplace was being particularly frustrating, she just used some of her magic to get it going. Either that, or she called on her sister who seemed to be a whizz with fire. She was no pyro, but she was a Leo, and their mother always said they were her fire babies. Both instilled with the energy, love, and passion of the element according to their astrological signs. Krystal just rolled her eyes at the time, especially since she was quite the dunce when it came to setting anything on fire. Perhaps that was a good thing. She never burned a meal.

  Devin didn’t respond to her comment, but moved around the marble-inlaid coffee table to sit next to her on the sofa. He sipped his hot chocolate and stared at the fireplace, a blank and yet completely telling look on his face.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, sliding her feet off the sofa, so he could scoot closer if he wanted.

  Devin didn’t move.

  He only nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Did you need help cleaning up?”

  “No,” she replied. “I put everything away while the water was heating up.” Making hot chocolate at home was probably a lot easier than at the festival. She tasted the thick brew and grinned.

  “I always thought hot chocolate tastes so much better in a mug than in a Styrofoam cup.”

  Once more, Devin didn’t reply. Right about now, she wished she had her mother’s scrying gifts, so she could see exactly what it was that troubled him. He didn’t seem so bothered when he was feeling up her shirt. He wasn’t troubled at all when he was driving her utterly and completely insane with his nearness when they were in the kitchen. If the recipe had been any more complicated, she probably would have screwed it up. The trip outside into the garden to get the herbs gave her a little time to cool off, but when he whispered in her ear again, she was right back to feeling like her blood was boiling over.

  Now, in front of the fire, she could feel that heat magnify, her body drawing on its energy. In every vein, every bone, she felt her need for him to speak, to look at her with those entrancing blue eyes, to caress her skin the way he had earlier. She bit her lip, waiting and wondering if she had done something wrong to make him clam up like this.

  Slowly, she decided to try something. Krystal slowly swung her legs up to fill the space between them, her bare toes just barely touching the outside of his thigh. Her skirt hung over her legs and knees, draping down and over the edge of the cushion. He wouldn’t be able to see anything from where he sat, but with just one move, she could easily open up for him. All it took was one word, one push and Krystal was ready to give into him completely.

  Krystal curled and flexed her toes, teasing the fabric of his jeans until he finally snapped out of his stupor and looked to her. She smiled, trying to hide the fact that she was a little irritated with the way he just distanced himself without realizing it. “Where did you go?” she asked, letting her head list to the side until it came to rest on the back sofa cushion.

  Devin’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “Somewhere I don’t need to be.” She hated the way he had to actually put effort into that smile to try and reassure her that he was all right.

  “I’d much rather you were here… with me.”

  She watched his eyes flit toward her propped up knees. “I’d much rather be here too.”

  Krystal smoothly eased one of her feet to rest on his thigh. “Then, please stay here for a while. I enjoy your company.”

  Devin put his mug on the coffee table, and she didn’t protest when he took hers as well to set it beside his. In that one move she had anticipated, Krystal parted her legs and let Devin slide over her. His mouth seized hers and her arms found their way around his shoulders. The hem of her skirt slid up and she could feel his coarse jeans rub against the inside of her thigh.

  She let out a tiny moan of encouragement as he pressed himself against her. This felt so totally right. Everything from the way his strong arms trapped her there on the couch to the way she could taste the hot chocolate on his tongue as it slipped between her lips.

  His hand found its way beneath her tank top again, roaming higher up her sides until the tips of his fingers played with the edge of her bra. Krystal arched her back as the fire and energy poured through her at the command of his touch. They were just kissing, but she was already getting hot and wet.

  She hung onto him tighter as he peppered kisses down her jaw, around her ear and along the tender skin of her neck. Before she realized it, the tank top was off and dropped to the floor beside the couch. Krystal reached down and tugged up his own shirt, demanding that it come off too, but Devin was too busy to comply. His attention drifted down her chest, his teasing lips trailing along the edges of her bra. Now, she wished she had worn something a little sexier than the plain satin bra she had pulled on earlier that morning.

  Devin’s hand drifted down her side, over her hip and slid up her skirt to caress her thigh. Krystal let out a long sigh and tilted her head back against the throw pillow behind her. The heat consumed her, spreading and centering around the point of pleasure between her legs. If Devin explored any further, he just might get his fingers singed.
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  Her fingers wove through his dark hair, keeping him there at her chest as his tongue played with the soft flesh. He nipped at precisely where her nipples would be beneath her bra and she cried out as they hardened into peaks.

  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as he stayed there, tantalizing her to the fullest extent while his hands played with the edge of her panties. Just when she felt his other hand reach beneath her to unclip her bra, Krystal became vaguely aware of something else.

  She turned her head and opened her eyes just enough to see the fireplace. The flames, usually a dancing mix of orange and gold, had turned into a hot blue and purple as the logs slowly disintegrated into ash. The tips of the flames themselves couldn’t be seen, but rose higher up the chimney.

  Her eyes went wide and another sense broke through the high Devin was sending her on.

  Something was burning.

  As if the thought had reminded the world that there was something else going on besides Krystal and Devin making out, the fire alarm trilled its loud, obnoxious warning in the kitchen.

  Devin flinched and moved off of her. Without a second thought, Krystal cursed, hopped off the couch and ran to the kitchen. The fish had only been in for less than ten minutes and there was already a trail of smoking coming from the oven.

  She grabbed her mittens and a towel and threw open the oven door to begin fanning. Devin moved into action too and opened the window over the sink.

  “Do you have a fire extinguisher?” he asked.

  Krystal waved off the last bit of smoke and peeked inside. The outer edges of the tin foil were blackened and the heating elements glowed white hot. “There’s no fire,” she shouted over the fire alarm.

  She knew she had set the oven for three-hundred and fifty degrees, but the internal thermometer read nearly six hundred. Could her oven even get that hot? It was a miracle the elements hadn’t blown.

  Devin grabbed the cutting board from the sink and began fanning the fire alarm, so it would stop tormenting their ears. Krystal carefully pulled the pan out and set it on the set of pot holders, though she wondered if they would combust under the heat. Thankfully, everything seemed to be cooling down. Even the fire in the fireplace lessened to normal again.

  Krystal leaned against the kitchen island, staring at the pan of charred bluefish fillets and wiped the sweat from her forehead. She had been sweating, but for how long? As soon as they started making out? Or just before the alarm went off?

  Her hands began to tremble as the shock settled in. Something wasn’t right and she knew it had to do with her magic. The fire growing out of control and the strange oven malfunction weren’t separate coincidences. They were linked. They had to be. Why hadn’t she realized this before? “Are you all right?”

  Devin was in front of her, his hands lightly settled on her shaking shoulders. There was no way she could tell him what she suspected. He’d think she was insane.

  “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine,” she said with a hasty nod. She was standing in the middle of her kitchen with her shirt off and they nearly burned the house down just by kissing and getting hot on the couch.

  Of course she wasn’t fine.

  “How do you feel about ordering pizza?” he asked, a faint but apologetic smile on his lips. She was so thankful that he didn’t ask how any of this could have happened, that she started laughing.

  “Pizza sounds great. I think they’ll deliver this late.”

  Krystal jumped when Devin’s phone went off in his pocket. A heavy guitar solo rang out through the deathly still kitchen. He pulled it out of his pocket and she saw the caller ID read Aaron’s name.

  “Go ahead,” she told him as she moved back toward the living room. There was no way they could continue what they started after all that just happened anyway.

  She picked up her tank top and slid it over her warm, slightly sticky body and thought about dousing the fireplace before it got out of hand again. Devin’s conversation floated into the living room, undeterred by the foyer and walls between them. There were no secrets kept in a house like this.

  “What?” he snapped. A moment of silence passed before he let out a long sigh and Krystal was too curious. She came back into the kitchen with their hot chocolate mugs that had been reheated somehow by just sitting on the coffee table. Whether by her or the fire, she wasn’t sure.

  Devin had his back turned to her, his hand stilled in his hair as if he were raking his fingers through in frustration. Every line of his hard, chiseled back screamed that something was wrong. Krystal watched and waited, her chest tight with two completely separate fears that seemed to meld and amalgamate together into one huge knot.

  “All right. I’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up his phone and turned to meet her curious, frightened stare. “I need to go down to the station,” he said, severity dripping from his words like a foreboding sludge. “Stay inside and don’t open the door for anyone unless it’s me or your sister.”

  He hurried out of the kitchen and grabbed the empty foam cooler sitting on the counter.

  “Devin, you’re scaring me,” she admitted as she followed him into the hall. “What happened? What did Aaron want?”

  Devin’s lips tightened together as if he were debating on telling her at all. He looked heavenward, then stepped closer to her. “Please, don’t panic. There’s been a homicide on the north side of town. I need you to stay inside and don’t tell anyone about this. Call your friends if you want, but don’t tell them anything, okay? The department doesn’t even have all of the information yet, so I don’t want anything being spread around.”

  Murder? In Goldcrest Cove? It was unthinkable. All Krystal could do was stand there with her jaw slack and lips parted in horror. “Please tell me you’re joking?”

  Devin cupped his free hand under her chin and kissed her lips, as if that would make this sudden nightmare float away. “I wish I was. Promise me you’ll stay inside?”

  Krystal closed her eyes and nodded her agreement. He was a cop. He knew what he was doing, and he probably saw this all the time in Boston. This was nothing new to him, but Krystal’s mind pulled up the faces of those friends and customers who lived on that side of town. Who was it? Whose life had been snuffed out? Better yet, who committed this act? Now, more than ever, Krystal wished she could see through time and space like her mother, so she could help them catch the criminal who did this.

  Devin kissed her one last time, and then left her in the foyer. The front door closed behind him and a sudden rush of cold descended over the house. Everything went still, the only sound coming from the crackling fireplace in the living room.

  Krystal’s happy world felt as if it were crumbling around her like the tiny pieces of shattered glass from a mirror after it had been struck. One by one, the shards hit the ground as her heart continued to beat. There was a murderer on the loose in Goldcrest Cove and the unthinkable might have been finally happening with her powers. The dark, uncontrollable magic that matured as a witch became older, seemed to be finally manifesting itself in her.

  Chapter Ten

  Devin followed the hasty directions Aaron had given over the phone. Really all he had to do was follow the flashing red and blue police lights from the squad cars that surrounded the scene on Jackson Creek Road. Tape that the department probably never thought they would have to use, was being woven around the area where the woman was found.

  Aaron wouldn’t give many details over the phone. The cop was too dazed to talk much anyway. Chief Nickels wanted Devin on the scene as soon as possible. That was all he really knew. Thanks to his long resume of dealing with crime scenes, he proved to be somewhat of a rare asset for Goldcrest Cove. He thought – and he was sure that everyone else did too – that there would never be a crime on this scale in such a small town.

  He spotted Chief Nickels’ shock of white hair against the darkness, facing toward the murder victim. Aaron was some distance away, scanning over the crowd of the other officers who were talking amo
ngst themselves. Thankfully, a crowd of civilians hadn’t formed. The last thing they needed in this town was a panic.

  Devin steeled himself, pushing aside any thought of Krystal and the amazing evening they had together. If it hadn’t been for the smoke detector, it might have been even better. But, he knew if he thought about her, his mind would slip into that dark place that yelled at him to run back and protect her at all costs. He couldn’t do that. Not when he had a job to do and a responsibility to the department.

  Aaron spotted him coming forward and ran to meet him. Before he could even begin to go into the details, Devin asked his questions first. There was a certain order in what he needed to know and what he didn’t. Hopefully his partner would understand that.

  “When did they find her?” he asked.

  Aaron walked alongside him as he charged toward the scene and ducked under the yellow police tape that stretched between two trees near the side of the road. He could already smell the strong, coppery odor of the blood before he even saw the body. “Mr. and Mrs. Hollington were driving down the road and they saw her with their headlights. They came back, thinking it was a drunk teenager passed out on the side of the road. They called us as soon as they realized she was dead.”

  There was nothing but woods along Jackson Creek Road. It was the perfect spot to dump a body, but if the murderer had any idea what they were doing, they wouldn’t have left her so close to the road where they could find her. Not only that, but it would have been a lot easier to toss the body in the creek that wasn’t too far away. No one would have found it there for days, maybe longer. Maybe never.

  “Did you call the medical examiner to come and determine the time of death?”