by Lizzy Prince
Ash and Ember
Book 2 of the Scorched Trilogy
Lizzy Prince
Copyright
Copyright ©2020 by Lizzy Prince. All rights reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected].
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
http://www.lizzyprince.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Dedication
To Jeremiah, for always supporting and believing in me.
Prologue
We need to stop her. She has grown greedy for power and has become unstable. Out of control. Dangerous. I’m afraid for my life and his. I love them both, but my sister is not herself. She is not the person I grew up with. The companion I laughed and played with. My balance. My other half. The dark magic has started to eat away her humanity, and if we wait any longer I’m afraid she will raze the world trying to keep me from him.
Chapter 1
My entire body jerked as I felt his fists slam into my sides, one after the other; ribs breaking and pain radiating through me like the ripple a pebble tossed into water causes. My face throbbed and blood ran into my swollen eyes, further obscuring my vision. It was my heart that hurt the most though. It ached in betrayal and loss. Seeing the gray eyes of my tormentor in front of me, blank, devoid of all emotion and recognition, had me trapped. Trapped by the knowledge that he was the one beating me, but also that he was a mere puppet. His hand whipped through the air and cracked across my cheekbone, and the movement flung me out of my dream and into reality.
My eyes flew open, but I barely moved as I recognized I was in my own bed, safe in my house. The wild pounding of my heartbeat barely started to calm when I noticed a very warm body next to me. My pulse jumped and beat erratically as I turned my head to the left. With a soft chuckle, I found Maggie snuggled up next to me. She was way too comfortable with a leg thrown over the cover, caging one of my legs.
I must have moved because her eyes opened bright and wide as if she’d only been lightly sleeping. She offered me a sheepish smile but didn’t bother moving her leg.
“What are you doing here? You know you have your own bed, right?” My voice was hoarse from sleep, or maybe all of the chaos from the day before.
“Shut up and let me snuggle, asshole,” she said as she closed her eyes and tried to nestle in closer to me.
I sniggered and pushed her off me. “Fine, fine, my bed is your bed, just let me have one small corner.”
With her own laugh, she pulled back and flipped her pillow over, fluffing it and stuffing it more comfortably under her head.
“How are you doing?” She looked me over like she was trying to catalogue my injuries, but the physical proof had already healed. It was just the mental injuries that lingered.
“Is it confusing and weird to say that I’m refreshed yet shitty?” I said, taking stock of how I felt.
It was the truth. I’d slept like the dead and my body felt fine, but my emotions were churning like a whirlpool. I couldn’t even begin trying to organize all the colliding thoughts rampaging through my mind.
“Mmm, after everything you told me, I’d say it’s probably an acceptable response.”
I picked at a hole in my pajama pants as I looked up at the ceiling. Sunlight was streaming in through the open curtains, and it was so bright it nearly hurt to have my eyes open.
“I have to go see Munro today.”
Maggie looked at me, her hands curled under her cheek like she was a reposing angel. “Yeah, probably.”
“Will you come with me?”
“Do you need a second for a duel?”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. Maggie always knew how to make situations not feel so grave with her sense of humor, and I loved her for it.
“I do. By the way, do you happen to have a spare pair of dueling pistols?”
“Shoot, I lent them out and never got them back. How about I just come as moral support?” she suggested. “I can hold your bag or something if you need to do witchy stuff.”
“And my coat?” I joked as I pushed myself out of bed.
Maggie leapt out of her side like a cat. “Hold your own damn coat. Do I look like your personal valet?”
“Get dressed!” I yelled back at her as she headed to the bathroom that connected our rooms, while I followed my own directive.
Pulling on jeans and a t-shirt I hurried to brush my teeth and throw my hair up in a ponytail. Now that I was awake, I was anxious to get over to Munro’s and get the uncomfortable and likely awkward meeting out of the way. Not to mention he had some questions to answer.
Chapter 2
Ryan held the door open for me and Maggie as we walked into the house. Hearing voices coming from the kitchen, I quickly introduced Maggie and Ryan but barely paid attention to them as I rushed through the exchange. Heading through the living room, I pulled up short when I saw Munro leaning against the kitchen island, nodding his head in agreement and smiling at the woman next to him. She was waving her hand animatedly in the air emphasizing some point, before floating it down to land on Munro’s arm.
I stood there, staring at that hand and feeling uneasy as a terrible flame of jealousy burned inside of me—which I knew was ridiculous. Munro didn’t belong to me, and the simple touch from another girl shouldn’t be enough to set me off on a rage of epic proportions. But it was. I could feel my face was flushed and my eyes were throwing daggers in a way I hoped was intimidating, but probably just made me look constipated. I let out a loud ompf when Ryan ran right into my back and then Maggie ran into him. It was like an Abbott and Costello bit, causing me to stumble forward clumsily.
Ryan reached out a quick hand and grabbed my arm, steadying me. “Sorry Annie, didn’t realize you’d stopped.”
As he spoke, his eyes flickered up to find Munro and the girl in the kitchen. The girl, who’d since turned around, was giving me a once over and looking completely unimpressed. Irritation flared through me, and I stood a little straighter, returning the inspection. I’d caught a glimpse of her the day before, but everything from the time I woke on the couch until I’d fallen asleep at home was a little fuzzy.
She was tall and lithe, with a killer body. Her clothes were tight and looked like she was about to go out and break into a high-tech security building. Or maybe go clubbing. It was an odd combination that suited her and annoyed me because I never could have pulled off wearing anything remotely close to that without looking like I was playing dress up. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a severe high ponytail that showed off her bone structure to perfection. She was beautiful, and she knew it. Which, you know, great for having high self-esteem and all, but also screw her. I never said I was above small and petty jealousy. I wasn’t and didn’t really care to
take the high road just then.
In comparison, I felt like a dirtball in my old jeans and my favorite faded David Bowie t-shirt. My own dark hair was also in a ponytail, but pieces of hair were falling out everywhere, including the ponytail itself, which had slipped halfway out making my hair droop in a pathetic loop near my neck.
I didn’t dare look at Munro. A bevy of feelings were racing their way through me, and I was pretty sure he’d be able to identify each one if I looked him in the eye. I also didn’t want to see any acknowledgment that this was someone important to him. If denial was a river, I was going to buy a houseboat and live there forever.
The girl broke the silence, taking a step toward me, cocking her head in a way that made me feel like a child being scrutinized.
“Annie, I presume?” Her voice was airy, and I detected a hint of southern drawl to the inflection.
It sounded too girly to match her clothing or the intense gleam in her eyes. She was pretty, but there was a hardness to her face that was uninviting, or maybe it was just me being catty. Her eyes were large and rounded, as though she was about to pop out her lower lip in a pout any second. I disliked her immensely.
She came closer, stopping a few feet in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Munro straighten up. He pushed away from the counter where he was leaning, but I kept my eyes on the woman in front of me. She was like a viper, and she would strike if I didn’t keep my eyes on her.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” she whisper-spoke in her syrupy drawl. A faint smile touched her lips that I found patronizing, even though there was no reason why I should feel that way.
I replied with what I felt was an equally patronizing smile and said, “I’m sorry, you have me at a disadvantage. You are?” All the etiquette my mother had instilled in me fought with the part of me that wanted to ask her who the fuck she was.
“Oh, burn,” Maggie whispered right behind me so that only I could hear, and I had to fight not to laugh. Fricking Maggie.
“I’m Lola,” she said looking back at Munro as if to say, how sweet, she knows nothing.
“Of course you are,” I muttered under my breath. I heard Ryan cough next to me to cover up a laugh, so he must have heard me.
Lola looked at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Pardon?”
“Nice to meet you,” I said this time, louder and with an Academy Award-worthy smile plastered to my face.
“I’m Maggie!” Maggie strolled around from behind me and planted herself in front of Lola. She was like a little chihuahua, itty-bitty and yet completely capable of ripping off your face if you got in her way.
“You look like you know weapons. Let’s you and I talk about dueling pistols,” Maggie said as she grabbed Lola’s arm and pulled her into the kitchen.
Lola let out a little what? completely confused by Maggie’s expert diversion, so I took the opportunity to look at Munro.
“We need to talk.” His eyes hadn’t left my face since we’d walked into the kitchen. Even though this was the first time I was meeting his gaze, I’d felt it since I’d entered the room.
“Yeah,” was all he said, and he gave away no hint of emotion in his words or on his face. He was buttoned up tight and wasn’t going to make it easy for me to read him.
Without waiting I moved into the living room, sitting down on the couch I’d woken up on the day before. Ryan lingered in the arched opening that connected the kitchen and the living room, and I sensed he wasn’t sure if I wanted him there for the conversation or not.
“Ryan?” I asked, and it was the cue he needed to pull him into the room.
Munro sat on the chair just to the left of the couch while Ryan sat on the other end, keeping an arm’s length of distance between us. My gaze swept back and forth between the two of them as I considered where I wanted to start. Feeling nervous, I swiped my palms over my jeans and cleared my throat, wishing I would have grabbed some water. Ryan took pity on me and started talking.
“I’m sure you want to know what happened yesterday?” he asked with brows raised.
I looked at Munro to confirm that he was ready to talk about what had happened, although he didn’t really have a choice. I needed answers. “Yeah, I think that’s a good place to start.”
The remembered blows Munro had given to my body had me tensing and I rubbed at the back of my neck like I could work some of the tightness out. I forced myself to lower my hand, but I only managed to keep them flattened on my thighs until Munro started talking. His voice had me tensing all over again and forming fists until my nails pressed into my palms.
“When we saw Hattie at the dance, on the football field, she marked me with a spell.” Munro’s voice was haunted, and the need to look at him was almost a compulsion.
The look in his eyes matched his voice, and it was as if something was broken inside of him, and it wrecked me. Munro was always this strong, powerful man and to see him vulnerable unnerved me. To think that I might be a weakness for him made me uncomfortable, and it felt wrong like the universe was off kilter.
“What does that mean, she marked you?” There was a slight hitch in my voice when I spoke.
“She came prepared with a spell. When she touched me, she cast her magic and the spell was set. Her touch, when she marked me, was all it took for the spell to take hold.”
Munro shook his head like he was trying to clear a fog from his mind. “At first it was like there was a film over everything. I was still in control, but I started to feel numb to everything around me. The longer the spell worked, the less I could feel and control my actions. It was as if everything that made me who I am was being smothered.”
A fine sheen of perspiration dotted his brow as though the memory of his lack of control, or maybe what he’d done while under its influence, was making him ill. I remembered the dull look in his eyes and suppressed a shiver. It was as if his soul had been shuttered, and he’d been a shell of a person.
“I tried to fight it. There were moments when I thought I could get control. The veins in his forearms strained as he clenched his fists. “But I couldn’t. The more I fought, the stronger her magic became like it was feeding off my struggle and pain."
I rubbed my eyes, feeling weary. I knew Munro was a victim in all of this, but I still couldn’t get the image of his cold, dead eyes out of my mind. Thinking back to how he’d behaved the night of the dance when he’d been making the binding spell, I realized he’d been acting oddly. But there had also been moments when he’d looked at me and there had been clarity.
The dream I’d had that night popped into my head like a subconscious reminder. I’d dreamed of Munro’s face being frozen in a mask that he'd kept breaking, screaming at me before the serene expression would fall back in place. Somehow, my mind had known what the rest of me hadn’t figured out. That Munro was trapped within his mind, fighting to get back in control. I had to push the thoughts of my dreams aside because I wasn’t ready to delve into what all that meant yet.
“Do you need to do another binding spell? I’m pretty sure I blasted through the last one at the warehouse yesterday.”
I couldn’t talk about what had happened at the warehouse anymore. Not now. I needed some space and time from everything that had happened. I caught Munro and Ryan exchanging glances, and I narrowed my eyes at them.
“What? What’s with the sneaky eyes?”
Ryan grimaced. “We’re not trying to be sneaky, Annie. It’s just… we have a problem.”
I groaned. “What now?”
“Your magic isn’t bound, but it’s not active either,” Munro said, sounding as frustrated as I felt, but at least he knew what they were talking about.
“Can you guys just tell me the whole shebang? I don’t know what the magical terms mean so just spit out the problem, please.” I pinched the bridge of my nose feeling a headache coming on.
Munro ran his hand through his hair, and it fell into perfectly messy strands that only made my annoyance grow.
; “We tried to bind it again. Yesterday when you were…” He motioned to the couch as if saying passed out was just too much for him.
He continued before I could give him the get on with it look threatening to replace my resting bitch face.
“It didn’t take. Normally with that spell, I can feel it grab hold of your magic. Like a hook that finds purchase. But yesterday, there was nothing for it to grab onto.”
All the color leached out of my face, and my mouth got so dry I had trouble spitting out the words. “Did Hattie get it? Did she take it before the building…”
I mimed a little explosion with my hands, feeling panicked that I might have lost my magic for good and that Hattie might have gotten control of it. It floored me that I’d feel such a horrible loss over something I only found out about a few months ago, but I did. It felt like an integral part of who I was. It was a piece of me, at the very core of my being. Now that I knew about it, the thought of losing it was like losing a limb. Before I could work myself up any further, Munro continued.
“No, no. You stopped her for now.” There was a small smile on his face that momentarily blinded me. There was pride and hope and devotion all wrapped up in that simple expression, and I had to close my eyes for fear of falling into the emotion it held.
“So where is my magic?” I asked as I opened my eyes back up. I looked at Ryan, needing a reprieve from Munro’s crushing gaze. My chest ached just from being this close to him.
“You’ve still got it,” Ryan answered. “You’ve just buried it.”
“How do I dig it back up?” I asked, not really understanding how I could have locked down my magic so tightly that I couldn’t access it. Especially because it wasn’t a spell that someone else had used on me. It was something I had done to myself. Maybe in self-preservation, maybe out of fear, but the bottom line was that it wasn’t something I even knew I could do. Unbinding my magic was beginning to feel like my own personal Mt. Everest.
