Bound (Keeper of the Flame Book 2)

by Lila Kane

  “Yeah, this town is a little short on evening hangouts. Come on, let’s get a table and pretend like they’re not here.”

  I agree, but it’s hard because I can feel the minute Logan notices me. I can feel his eyes on me all the way to the table and the gaze is searing.

  Cheyenne settles herself at the table, crossing her long legs and flipping her hair over her shoulder before leaning in. “Oh my God,” she whispers, “Logan will not stop looking at you. What’s going on‒and where were you this morning?”

  I press my palm to my cheek, glad it’s dim in the bar. “I need wine first.”

  Music plays in the background as Cheyenne beckons a waiter to take our order. She lifts her lips in a coy smile. I can tell he knows her and he’s happy she’s here. She flashes him a grin when he says he’ll be back soon.

  “You two need a room,” I tell her.

  She laughs, but doesn’t deny it. “So do you and Logan. I thought Ryan was into you‒what’s up with that?”

  I shift in my seat. I know she and Ryan are friends, but it’s more complicated than that. And I can still feel Logan’s eyes on my back.

  “It’s hard with Ryan,” I say, hedging the question.

  “Because of Logan? Because he’s totally into you‒”

  “Please don’t start with me. First Logan, then Ryan, now you. Not to mention all that stuff with Selena.”

  Her eyes widen. “What stuff with Selena?”

  The door to the bar opens as the waiter delivers our drinks. “Oh shit,” I whisper under my breath. I grab my wine to take a long swallow.

  Cheyenne glances over her shoulder and repeats what I just said.

  It’s Ryan. He’s standing there looking tall and sexy and hot and Logan notices him at the exact same time. Logan stands as the music kicks up a notch in the background, and walks straight to our table.

  “This isn’t going to be good,” Cheyenne mumbles.

  I thought Ryan was supposed to be at home. Sleeping.

  I sip more wine even though my eyes are locked on Logan’s. His lips curve in a grin and my stomach drops. Desire shoots through my veins. Cheyenne is right, this isn’t going to be good.

  When Logan reaches our table, he holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”

  The low timbre of his voice makes excitement race through my stomach. Makes my body ache to be near his.

  I open my mouth and spot Ryan making his way over as well. My heart starts pounding.

  Logan leans in and his eyes connect with mine. “Just one dance. Please.”

  I set my hand in his. “Just one.”

  Chapter 9

  The music is slow, full of bass and soul. It feels like I had more to drink because my legs are wobbly on my heels. I’m actually nervous. Nervous because Logan’s hand is strong and warm on mine, and his cologne smells like an exotic night in the forest. Nervous because I’m afraid Selena is going to seep into my mind and ruin it all with her words of death.

  On the small dance floor near the stage where a live band is setting up, a few couples already spin in slow circles, lost in their own worlds.

  Logan turns me to him and settles one hand on my waist, keeping the other firm around my hand. He tucks it close to his chest.

  “Relax,” he says, lips close to my ear. It makes me shiver.

  Over his shoulder, Myra’s smiling. Not a wicked smile like she knows how awkward this is for me, but a genuine smile. Like it makes her happy to see us together.

  “You’re not relaxing,” Logan murmurs.

  “That’s because this is a bad idea.” When he brushes his hand down my spine, I shake my head at him and say his name with warning in my tone.

  “What?” He leans back so I can see his smile in the dim light of the bar. “It’s hard to dance with you‒especially with you looking like this‒and not want to touch you.”

  Another shot of desire shoots straight to my stomach. “Try,” I whisper.

  “I don’t want to.”

  I frown. “You sound like a little kid. I happen to know you actually do possess some self-control.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  I spot Ryan staring at us and straighten. He looks angry. And jealous. Logan swivels me so I’m facing the opposite side of the bar.

  “Yeah,” I say. “You said before, when I was trapped in your house, that you wouldn’t kiss me unless I wanted you to. You made me make the first move, and you didn’t take anything I didn’t want to give.”

  “You’re right.” His voice turns husky, low enough I have to lean in to hear him. “I wanted you to make the first move. And I’ll wait this time like I did before if that’s what you need, although it’s not easy.”

  “What makes you think I’ll give in?”

  His gaze is locked with mine. “You know there’s something between us, Willow.”

  Flames start to flicker inside. I stop dancing, feet fused to the dance floor. My throat dries. I can feel Selena. She snuck up on me but now I can feel every bit of her inside of me. Anger, longing, even fear. But mostly rage. A murderous rage.

  And it’s aimed at Logan.

  “I have to‒” My gaze jerks to the other couples on the floor, then to the table where Ryan is sitting with Cheyenne. And finally, the exits. “I have to go.”

  I try to pull away, but he holds tight. “Willow, what’s wrong?”

  “I can’t‒Logan.”

  Go to the kitchen. Find a knife.

  “Willow.” He peers into my face. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Please.” I push away from him, wobbling on my heels. “Just let me go.”

  “Willow,” he says again, glancing around this time, like he’s not sure what to do. “Please, tell me what’s happening.”

  I break free of his hold. “Just stay there.”

  But he won’t listen. He keeps trying to reach for me. Blood red flashes behind my eyes, visions of Logan lying on the floor of the bar with a knife in his heart. I bend over, trying not to be sick.

  Ryan appears out of nowhere, placing himself between me and Logan. “Willow, come on,” he says.

  Logan steps around him. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Leave her alone. Can’t you see that’s what she wants?”

  “Ryan.” I grasp the sleeve of his shirt, trying to get his focus away from Logan. “It’s not him. He didn’t do anything.”

  “See?” Logan says, though he’s not looking at Ryan anymore. He’s peering into my face. “Something’s going on.”

  Ryan’s jaw clenches, but before he can do anything else, Cheyenne and Myra are there. Cheyenne puts her arm around my waist.

  “You’re such a lightweight,” she jokes, rolling her eyes. “Two sips of wine and you’re already toast.”

  I laugh, and it’s a welcome distraction from the images Selena keeps sending through my mind. The next one is a picture of Logan lying on the forest floor, his throat slit. I grimace, shaking my head.

  “It’s not‒I just need to sit a minute,” I tell Cheyenne. Ryan grabs my arm, but I wave him off. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

  “Something is going on,” Logan says again, sending a worried glance at Cheyenne this time, like she might figure out some way to get me to talk.

  Cheyenne waves him off just like I did with Ryan. “This is supposed to be a girl’s night. You two are getting in the way.”

  Ryan folds his arms and Logan doesn’t look any happier.

  “Myra,” Cheyenne says, “you’re a girl.”

  Myra rolls her eyes. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

  “I think she means you should come with us.” I grab her arm before she can protest or even think about it. “Girl’s night. Sit with us.”

  Ryan looks lost, shoving his hands in his pockets and staying where he’s at. Logan returns to his table, but I can still feel his gaze on us.

  When we sit again, I frown at Cheyenne. “You’re just going to leave Ryan standing there like that?”

  “He
’s a big boy,” she says. “He can fend for himself. Drink your wine.”

  When I narrow my eyes at her, she gives me a wicked smirk and slides the wine to my hands. Then she beckons the waiter and gestures to Myra. “What do you want?”

  “Oh‒no.” Myra turns to look at the table she was sitting at before. “I should probably keep Logan company.”

  “Seriously?” Cheyenne asks, wrinkling her nose. “It’s girl’s night and, well, this is something you need to hear.”

  Myra turns back and raises an eyebrow. “What do I need to hear?”

  Cheyenne beckons to the waiter. “She’ll have the house merlot. It’s good,” she tells Myra. “You need to loosen up.”

  “What’s something I need to hear?”

  “Oh.” Cheyenne lounges in her chair and pitches her voice above the live music that just started. “Right. There aren’t many other women your age‒our age‒in Shadow Hill. Trust me, you want to take advantage of girl’s night with us. Although, there is a quilting club that meets every Thursday evening if you’re interested. And the other thing…” She glances at me with an apologetic smile. “You’re stuck here like us now. Might as well live it up.”

  Myra sighs and shoves her hair off her forehead. She doesn’t look as tired as she has in the days past, but her voice sounds weary. “Okay, let’s not talk about that right now.” Her gaze strays to mine. “What was that all about on the dance floor?”

  “Yes, I echo that question,” Cheyenne says.

  I force a smile at Myra. “I’m fine talking about you some more.”

  The waiter delivers the merlot. Cheyenne encourages Myra to drink and we cheers to a girl’s night, though none of us seems to know how to enjoy it.

  “Tell us what happened,” Cheyenne says.

  One side of me admires her for being able to switch gears so easily, to be able to include Myra like she’s an old friend. The other side of me is irritated by it. I’m already struggling to keep up. But I know she’s right to keep going. No point in wallowing over the way things are.

  “Selena won’t leave me alone,” I tell them, my voice low.

  “Selena, as in, your ghost ancestor Selena?” Cheyenne asks.

  “Yeah. That’s the one.”

  “Is that why you ran out of the house this morning?” Myra asks. Cheyenne’s eyebrows shoot up.

  “That is not what it sounds like,” I say. I finish off the last of the wine. Before I can scoot my glass away, Cheyenne’s waving for the waiter again. “Logan took me to Selena’s house‒”

  “The hotel?” Cheyenne’s asks.

  “No,” Myra says, “the family’s original house before they built the hotel.”

  “And Selena was there.” I press my lips together. “She looked…more real than I’ve ever seen her. She just‒everywhere I go, she’s there now. She keeps telling me things, bad things.”

  “Like what?” Myra asks, leaning in.

  I bite my lip and shake my head. I don’t want to tell her. My gaze lifts to the table in the corner where Logan sits. His eyebrows are drawn low, and he’s staring at me. What’s going on? he mouths.

  My chest rises and falls with a few deep breaths. I look away.

  “What is it?” Cheyenne asks, setting her hand on my arm.

  “Selena still wants revenge.”

  Myra frowns. “What does that mean?”

  “She was in love with your great-great grandfather, but he chose your great-great grandmother instead. Selena’s part of the reason the spell on him‒the spell that turned him into a vampire‒went wrong. She also helped make the curse. But she’s…” I lick my lips and reach for my wine glass, only to realize it’s empty. “She’s still angry. She wants to take it out on your family‒particularly Logan.”

  The waiter returns with another glass and I clasp my hand around the stem and drink deep, afraid of what my new friends are going to say. Afraid that I either sound crazy or homicidal‒and neither makes me feel good.

  “Take it out on Logan,” Myra says, angling her head. “What does that mean?”

  I glance to the bar where Ryan’s sitting nursing a beer. Logan keeps looking in our direction. I kind of wish they’d both go home so I’m not as distracted.

  “Willow,” Cheyenne says, catching my attention. “I think this is important. You don’t seem like yourself.”

  I look back at her, avoiding Myra’s gaze. “I know. It’s because she won’t leave me alone. Selena. It’s like she follows me everywhere and she…” I frown and rub my hand over my eyes. “This is going to sound crazy.”

  “What is?”

  “She’s in my head.” I choke out a laugh and grip my glass by the base hard enough I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. “See? Crazy.”

  The band starts up an energetic number, heavy with drums and an electric guitar.

  Myra leans in. “What do you mean she’s in your head?”

  “Like she talks to you?” Cheyenne asks.

  My voice comes out in a whisper. “Yes.”

  I don’t think either one of them could actually hear my assent over the music, but I can tell by both their faces that they know my answer.

  “It makes sense.” Cheyenne nods. Myra gives her a swift glance. “It does. Your mom says you’re connected to her now. And she’s right, isn’t she? You had to contact her to‒what’s the word?” She shrugs. “Commune with her spirit. You have a connection. She’s linked to you now.”

  “But she’s dead,” Myra says. “She can’t make you do anything right?”

  “I don’t want to give her that chance.” I swallow and intentionally keep my gaze from Logan. “That’s why I have to stay away from him.”

  Myra frowns. “But how are you going to do that? You live in the same town. You’re helping us. I think we should tell him.”

  “No. It’s not a problem. I’ll just keep my distance until the connection fades.”

  “How do you know it will?” Cheyenne asks.

  “It has to.” Before she can protest or ask another question, I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s girl’s night. I’m going to dance.”

  Cheyenne’s eyes widen as if to say that dancing is nowhere near as important as the conversation we were having. But Myra hops off her seat.

  “She’s right. It’s girl’s night. Let’s dance.”

  Chapter 10

  I don’t know how Cheyenne managed to get us to drink so much while staying sober herself. But two hours later, I realize she’s only had one glass of wine and Myra and I have had several. Not to mention a few shots and whatever else Cheyenne pushed our way.

  So when she says she’ll drive us to my house and we’ll have a sleepover, Myra and I cling to each other‒to hold each other up as much as because we’re amused with the idea‒and follow her to her car.

  Ryan left thirty minutes ago after Cheyenne assured him she had everything under control, but he said he’d call to check on us later. Logan, however, stayed at his seat in the corner, brooding into his beer.

  When we reach Cheyenne’s car, we find his car parked beside it. He’s leaning against the driver’s side door.

  “Still here?” Myra asks, smiling at him.

  He narrows his eyes at her. “Yeah, someone has to watch out for you. How many glasses of wine did you have?”

  She starts counting her fingers with a laugh and I smile at her.

  “She’s fine,” Cheyenne tells him, folding her arms. “I’ll drive them back to Willow’s place, let them sleep it off.”

  I frown at my shoes as they scrape on a rock on the pavement. When I start to pull them off, Logan walks over, catching my arm. “Maybe I should take you home.”

  “Cheyenne is very responsible,” I say, snagging the heel of one shoe. “She’s going to be our chaperone.”

  He takes the shoe I hand him and sighs when I go for the other one. “Really?” he asks Cheyenne. “You’re going straight to her house and that’s it?”

  “Loga
n is very responsible, too,” Myra says, a slight slur in her words. “But too much like a babysitter.”

  The idea of him babysitting makes me laugh. I give him my other shoe. “I agree.”

  He rubs a hand over his eyes. “Fine.” He turns to Cheyenne and passes her my shoes. “You babysit. Just…be careful.”

  My eyes widen and I look around before lowering my voice to a whisper. “Why? Is there something out there?”

  Myra giggles and huddles close to me. “Spooooky,” she whispers, drawing the word out.

  Cheyenne laughs. “Okay, ladies, in the car.”

  Myra hops in the side, but I hang back. I put my hand flat on Logan’s chest and say, “You should go, too. You never know what’s out here.”

  He clasps his hand over mine, holding it there. “We need to talk.”

  Selena’s voice whispers through my mind. Talk to him, trick him, make him think you’re on his side. And then kill him.

  I yank my hand back, suddenly feeling ten times more sober than I had a minute ago. I shake my head. “I have to go,” I mumble.

  I get in the back seat and instead of feeling light as air, I feel sick. Myra is still happy in the front, digging through Cheyenne’s glove compartment for something.

  Logan’s voice is muffled as he says something to Cheyenne. She nods and gets in her seat to start the car.

  “Your brother sure is protective,” she says.

  Myra smiles. “Yeah. He’s nice. It’s Kane you have to worry about. He’s the scary one.” She turns around, eyes wide with mischief. “Maybe he’s the one out there.”

  “There’s no one out there,” Cheyenne says, leaving the parking lot. She turns in the direction of my house. “I’d feel it if there were.”

  “No one but Selena,” I mumble. But I’m glad it’s only her. I can’t deal with Kane right now. I don’t want to deal with him ever. I lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes. “You two should go home. I’m going to be bad company tonight.”

  “You’re great company,” Myra chimes in. “Don’t worry about Selena. You’re finding a way to help me, I’m sure you can find a way to deal with her, too. We’ll help you. Logan, too, since he’s so into you. I don’t think I’ve seen him care about someone this much since…probably forever.”