by Lizzy Ford
Morgan felt ill prepared, more so now that she’d failed to keep the family secret, and terrified of messing up. Had her mother lived with such fear as well? Was it part of why she divorced Morgan’s father four years before, a turn of events that sent Morgan’s life plummeting into a nightmare?
She had once been charged by her uncle to bury the stone in the heart of the Light. It struck her that he wasn’t supposed to know about it, that no one was. She ached for her mother, wondering if she had fallen to the harsh punishment of Gordon the same way Morgan had. Was this how he discovered it, by beating the information out of her mother?
Morgan shuddered, not wanting her thoughts to go down the path of how she’d spent the past few years in an abusive household. The only way to know for certain was to confront Gordon, and she was never, ever going to see him again.
Her sole regret from December, aside from lying to Connor and Beck about being alive, was not checking in on her father. While he screamed and raged at her occasionally, he was also unable to care for himself and confined to a wheelchair. Gordon had threatened to kill him if she failed. She’d disappeared – presumed dead – instead. For the first month after her disappearance, she had watched the daily reports in the newspaper local to her father, terrified she’d see his name among the obituaries.
But she didn’t. Gordon hadn’t touched him, and distance gave her the ability to see Gordon for what he was: a manipulative liar, one who hurt her because he was a mentally damaged bully. She pitied her father, but also wasn’t about to put his life in jeopardy by calling.
There’s always Mom. Her mother also thought she was dead. If Morgan revealed the truth, she knew her mother would call her father, who would tell her uncle. The secret would be out. Was Gordon knowing truly worse than condemning the world to Dawn’s plan to unleash the Dark?
Morgan wrapped her arms around herself tightly and slouched down in the chair, resting her head against its back. She stared at the florescent lights above her and tried hard not to think about Beck, the only person who made her feel safe enough to trust him.
He was perfect, a flicker of light and peace in her nightmare of a world. She always believed so despite his self-deprecating digs and the fact he found himself so flawed. Beck was beautiful, the only person she had ever met who deserved to become the Master of Light.
In another time, another place, if they were different people … could she take the final step towards him? Or would her fear and past push her away from the one man her heart ached for?
Her eyes drifted closed, and she started to doze, thoughts on the night she and Beck walked into a fire together. She wanted to return to that time. It had seemed stressful at the moment, but compared to the drastic turn her life had taken, the decision to trust Beck seemed simple when she thought of all that had happened since the night they first kissed.
The phone vibrating in her pocket awoke her, and she stretched to grab it. She checked the contact before answering.
“Hey, Noah,” she murmured into the phone, gearing up an excuse about where she was until her bus was on the road.
“Hey, Morgan.”
Morgan sat up straight, alarm flying through her at Dawn’s voice. “What happened to Noah? Is he okay?”
“I’d never do anything to my little brother,” Dawn replied. “But Bartholomew might.”
Morgan’s breath caught.
“Why don’t you tell me where you are? If you care about Noah even the smallest amount, you’ll want to listen to me.”
Morgan hung up. It was instinctive, the need to shut off any connection with someone as evil as Dawn. She stared at the phone in horror at her actions. She didn’t want Noah dead, but there was no way in hell she was turning herself in, now that she knew what the stone could do to Beck.
Her phone pinged with a text. Connor is next, then Beck.
After her rough night, Morgan was in no shape to handle the words. She hunched over and breathed deeply to keep from throwing up. Fear made her want to do anything Dawn said to save Connor and Beck, but the voice of reason warned her this was a game Dawn was playing. The Dark witchling wanted to flush her out of hiding, render her vulnerable and then steal the stone. If Dawn had it, the threat to Beck became twofold.
Noah didn’t deserve what awaited him when he went to beseech Dawn to stop what she was doing. Even so, Morgan was almost relieved he of all people had been caught, because he had the best chance of surviving until she got him help. If it had been Summer, Decker, Beck … they’d be dead by now or close to it.
Even knowing Dawn was in Las Vegas and Connor was in Idaho, she hastily texted Beck. Please tell me you’re okay and so is Connor.
His response was immediate. Safe and sound, both of us. I’m emotionally damaged beyond repair, but that’s a different issue.
She smiled.
What’s up? He texted.
“Noah’s in trouble.” Morgan wasn’t certain if she should type the words or not. Dawn was clearly using her brother to try to entrap her, but whether or not Noah was in true danger, Morgan didn’t know.
Morgan regained her composure and straightened. Her body was wired, her mind exhausted. She patted the soul stone in her pocket, wishing there was a different solution, one that let her unleash her fire and fury at Dawn without worrying about what happened to the stone.
Dawn threatened you and Connor, she typed.
Beck’s response made her start to cry. I’ll protect him with my life, Morgan. She sat for a moment, fighting back tears. She wanted to tell him where she was and beg him to sweep her up into his Light and soothe her pain.
But she didn’t. She was doing this to protect him and everyone else.
Dawn’s threat solidified the decision she feared making. There was one person who might help her understand the stone: her mother. Even if the man who tasked her with destroying the Light found out she was alive, she had to risk it in order to learn everything she could about the stone.
Thank you. I have to go somewhere. I promise to check in, she told him. “Then I’m taking out Dawn. If it costs me my soul, my life, I don’t care. You will be safe, Beck.” She didn’t type these words but felt them sink into her like the truth she hadn’t wanted to admit about how much she cared for Beck.
Maybe she wasn’t meant to be with Beck, but rather to die protecting him and the Light from the evil she carried. She didn’t know for certain, but the decision to face Dawn took some of the anxiety out of figuring out what to do next. It felt right to confront her rather than run. It was the kind of approach her fire magick preferred, too, after four years of impotent anger and cowering away from those who hurt her.
Where? Beck texted.
Not far, she lied. Noah’s in trouble, Beck. Dawn grabbed him. I’m fine but I have to leave. Morgan tucked the phone in her pocket and returned to the ticket booth to change her ticket destination. When she was done, she went to the bus boarding for the first leg of her trip. She claimed a seat near the window and pulled out her phone.
You will never hurt Beck again. Let’s finish this. You and me – the day before the equinox – at the place where we met, she texted to Dawn. Fire engulfed her hands as she typed, and she suppressed the magick eager for the chance to face Dawn.
Beck had texted twice to tell her he alerted Decker and the Master of Dark was heading to Las Vegas to find Noah.
Morgan hugged the phone with her hands the way she wanted to hug Beck. The bus was chilly, and her fire flickered across her skin to keep her warm. After a long moment of internal debate, she dialed her mother’s number.
“Hello?” came the groggy response. It was close to one in the morning in New York.
“Mama. It’s me. I really need to talk to you,” Morgan whispered.
There was a stunned silence, and then, “Morgan?”
“Yeah. I have a lot to tell you and I can’t talk long. Can you meet me at the bus station in …” Morgan checked her ticket with a grimace. It was going to be a long, cross-co
untry bus ride. “… three days, ten in the morning? I promise I’ll explain everything.”
Chapter Twelve
Decker lay on his side on his bed, watching his counterbalance and best friend, Summer, twist her hands in front of her. She was beautiful even when she was nervous. Her large eyes were glued to him.
“Promise not to laugh. Or yell,” she said and hesitated again on her way to his desk.
Decker hid a smile, sensing how serious Summer was. His quiet counterbalance appeared ruffled, which was rare for her. She wasn’t in danger, and he knew without a doubt she wasn’t going to leave him. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything worth flipping out over. “I’ll never yell at you,” he reminded her.
“Okay.” Summer drew a deep breath and whirled, her long, dark hair fanning out around her as she did. She wore a dress and dark tights today, and his eyes drifted down her body. She was perfect – cute, powerful and sexy. His fire stirred every time they were together, and the soft whisper of spirit magick always stretched to join their souls into one. She’d allow this connection, even when she had grounded him from sex until she was eighteen, part of their deal after the events that occurred after she went Dark then became the first witchling ever to reclaim her soul. It had taken him a month to get to the point where she could spend the night and he was able to keep his magick restrained enough for them to sleep. His only real solace: she was happy and in several months, they’d be able to sleep in his bed naked once more.
The air of his room was filled with her earth magick, and it helped him calm his fire.
“So. I figured out I have a talent for something, and I’m pursuing it,” she told him. “And … I know this might upset you, but next year, when I graduate, I want to go to art school.”
He listened, sensing more.
“In Toronto.” She cringed, waiting for him to speak.
Decker was quiet.
“You took that well. I wanted you to see this first, before I send it in with my application.” She took another deep breath and faced him, twisting a canvas to face him.
Decker sat up, not expecting him to be the first thing she painted. He gazed at the scene she had chosen, troubled yet … amazed. She had depicted one of the worst moments of his life, when he and all his Dark magick had nearly swallowed her and Beck. Dark fog billowed out around his form at the center of a frozen lake. He was on his knees, head down, and she crouched beside him, holding his hand. A ray of light extending from the sky encircled them.
“You hate it,” she whispered, distraught.
“No,” he said quickly. “No, I don’t.” He crossed to her and cupped her cheeks in his hands. The first contact of their skin always made him shiver. Her magick calmed his, and the Darkness answered to her in a way it never would to him. It respected her, because she had bested it, and claimed her fiercely as his counterbalance as well. He kissed the tip of her nose and gazed down into her dark eyes. “It’s hard for me to see, to remember what I almost did to you.”
“That’s not why I painted it. I don’t want you to feel bad,” she said, frowning. “That was the day the nightmare ended.”
“I know. The best and worst day of our lives.”
She nodded.
“It’s beautiful, Summer.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
“And you’re not upset about art school?”
He hesitated. “I want you to be happy.”
“But you’re afraid to leave here.”
“Hey now, no mind reading.”
“There’s a lot of time between now and then,” she murmured. “Maybe I’ll change my mind.”
“No. I don’t want that. I want you to be you. If you want to go to art school, then we go to art school.” The idea of leaving Priest Lake terrified him. Not because he couldn’t be anywhere he wanted in a second, but because he had never quite lost the fear of who – and what – he was. What he could do. The familiarity of the forest was a sense of solace and peace, and he needed every calming factor he could surround himself with.
But he needed Summer more.
“You’re serious,” she studied him.
“Anything for you, Summer.” He smiled.
“If you don’t like it, we can leave.”
“I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t entirely certain of this, but he wanted to try. “Did you think I wouldn’t go?”
“No. I don’t know. You want me to leave the Light campus to live with you. I didn’t know if you’d ever want to leave here.”
“It’s … kinda scary, Summer. I’m afraid of hurting people.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. I’ll always stand between you and the Dark, Decker. I’ll never let it have you.”
He smiled and tugged the painting out from between them. Resting it on his desk, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, breathing in the scent of her as deeply as he could. His spirit magick sank into her while he held back the passionate fire magick. He was gradually learning to isolate and manipulate the three elements he held rather than unleashing all of them and hoping for the best. Fire and water were of a similar mind – volatile, physical, powerful – whereas spirit was often so quiet, he had to silence the two moodier elements to hear the third whisper.
“Tickles,” she said with a giggle as the spirit magick slid through her. Her entangled earth-air magick grounded his less stable elements, left him feeling like he wasn’t about to spin out of control.
“I’ll go anywhere you go,” he said. “You know that.” His phone buzzed. He reached for it, adding, “I’ll pose nude for you, too.”
Summer laughed, her face flaming red.
Decker checked his phone over her shoulder. Noah’s in trouble, claimed the message from Beck. “Duty calls, baby.” He hugged her more closely. “Go to bed. I’ll be back soon, and you can tell me about the school.” He released her.
Summer’s face was glowing. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“I knew it before you did.”
“No way.”
“Absolutely way!” he exclaimed.
“Whatever.” But she was smiling happily.
Her happiness soothed his anxiety about leaving behind the only place he’d ever been comfortable. He had a little over a year to adjust to the idea, and he suspected he’d need the time to prepare.
With another glance at the painting, Decker called his shadows and left his love in his room.
The moment he materialized at the hotel where Noah had said they’d be staying, he received another text from a number he didn’t recognize.
Too many issues to explain. I’m at the Denny’s near the hotel.
He sensed a Dark witchling nearby without knowing who it was. Uncertain who exactly had texted, Decker nonetheless trotted down the block towards the Denny’s. The night air cooled the desire in his body and let him think clearly once more. By the time he walked into the diner, his elements were as calm as they could be.
Noah was in a booth alone, pressing his glass of ice water to a busted lip. The Dark witchling wore a t-shirt despite the cool night, and his hair was ruffled.
“Where’s Morgan?” Decker asked.
“No clue. She just disappeared again.” Noah lowered the glass. “Probably a good thing. Dawn found my keycard and will probably blow up the hotel.”
Suppressing his irritation, Decker sat down across from him. “Start talking.”
Noah eyed him. None of the Dark witchlings trusted him any more than the Light ones did. Rumored to be off his rocker, Decker’s acts of violence fed the general perception he was crazy.
“You aren’t on my hit list, Noah,” Decker said darkly amused.
Noah ran his fingers through his hair. “I did something stupid.”
“No shit.”
“I confronted Dawn again.”
“And?”
“She’s obsessed with Morgan and Beck and …” The sorrow
on Noah’s face bothered Decker. “That’s not my sister. I don’t know what happened, but Dawn isn’t like that.”
“She is now. The Dark won’t let her go.”
“She didn’t kill me. I keep telling myself that has to mean something.”
“It means you got lucky.”
Noah said nothing.
“Look, I know what you’re going through. If anything happened to Beck … just thinking about it makes me want to kill someone,” Decker said. “But I also know what’s possessed her. You’ve heard the stories about Bartholomew.”
Noah nodded, going pale.
“There’s no walking away from him. I barely did it as the Master of Dark. Do you think a normal witchling has a chance in hell?”
“No.”
“A part of Dawn may be holding out, protecting you, but it won’t last. At some point, Bartholomew is going to swallow her whole, and she’ll kill you.”
“But not yet. She’s still hanging on.”
Decker paused. He didn’t want to give Noah false hope about the fate of his sister, but he also didn’t want to crush someone who was struggling for his own redemption. “For now,” he allowed. “But I think our window with her is pretty much gone after this.”
“Yeah.” Noah’s voice was hoarse. “I got the sense this was the last time I’d see her.”
“Did you learn anything about her plans? Where she’s staying?”
Noah nodded and slid a hotel access key card for a major casino across the table to Decker. “Suite twenty five ten. She had maybe five others with her. She’s just … obsessed with Morgan. Like, obsessed beyond reason.”
“More so than Beck?”
“Maybe this much more, but yeah.” He held his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart.
Bartholomew needs the soul stone before he can destroy Beck. Decker wasn’t certain if the events had to be in order – soul stone first then confront Beck – but it was beginning to appear that way.
“I thought it was the stone,” Noah added. “But I think it’s her, too.”
