Before the Storm

by Claire Ashgrove

  “Did you come up with a new idea?”

  Yeah…and it started with that damned book. But Maude’s remark had clicked—focus on producing anything. I wanted to try. And then, I intended to discover who I was so I could save my mother and then deal with my uncle. But confessing all that would only lead Kale and I into another argument.

  I fanned my hand over his beating heart and simply said, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

  Eighteen

  I woke in a cocoon of warmth that made me unreasonably giddy and awkwardly uncertain. Waking in a man’s possessive hold, his deep and even breathing falling lightly on my shoulder, his skin brushing mine shouldn’t feel so…good. So good that I wanted to turn into his embrace, slide closer to his body, and never leave the soft heaven of Kale’s bed. That I could see myself actually never leaving was the awkward part. That my body craved his even after making love through the night also left me unbalanced.

  I was supposed to be able to control my attraction to a man, not let it rule my senses. Kale had stripped me of that ability completely. I needed to be free, yet…I had moved so far beyond free…and I although I questioned it, I wasn’t really questioning it. In my heart, I knew if he asked me to stay, I’d say yes in a heartbeat.

  And Faye needed me; I had to protect her. I couldn’t stay.

  Could I?

  My lungs tightened uncomfortably. Needing a bit of air—and space—I slid one leg out from under Kale’s and off the edge of the mattress. Gently, I wriggled, attempting to escape the weighty arm banded around my waist before I suffocated from sheer contentment.

  Instead, Kale murmured something I couldn’t decipher and snugged me back against his body. He rose up on an elbow, a smile dancing on his handsome mouth as he leaned down and nuzzled the side of my neck. “Morning, princess.”

  “Princess?” I scoffed, refusing to allow the pleasurable heat that stirred in my veins to take hold. “Don’t tell me you’re resorting to sappy sentiment now.”

  He chuckled, but did nothing to indicate he intended to release me anytime soon. I eyed him warily. This was new, and different, and I didn’t know the rules. Was I supposed to thank him? Was I supposed to praise him on the multiple orgasms? Or was I supposed to pretend this was like any other morning we’d spent together?

  “You wanted to return to the casting chamber today, yes?” he asked, his voice still delightfully husky with sleep.

  Okay. Any other morning. Shew. I nodded and made another attempt to escape the bed.

  He rolled halfway on top of me, pinning me into the mattress, the evidence of his arousal brushing my thigh.

  Maybe not like any other morning.

  But instead of teasing back into that wanting place he’d taken me to three times since we fell into the bed, he merely planted a firm kiss on my lips then crawled over me and stood with a stretch. No modesty here. No shame about the half-mast state of his erection.

  Just Kale. In the buff. And oh, so damnably beautiful to look at. I bit my lower lip to silence a frustrated whimper.

  He fetched a clean pair of boxer briefs from his dresser and glanced at me as he dragged them on. “You stay put. I’ll bring you coffee. Eggs sound okay?”

  Eggs? Huh? I blinked. He really was treating me like said princess.

  Realizing he was still staring at me, awaiting a response, I nodded. He gave me a playful grin, accented it with a wink, then strode out of the room, ruffling his hair with one hand. I suspected the gesture accompanied a yawn.

  Now what? Laying flat on my back amid three of the fluffiest pillows known to mankind, I surveyed my surroundings. His bedroom was just as neat and tidy as I would expect, save for the pile of last night’s clothes at the side of the bed. But this room was noticeably different than the cozy, quasi-cluttered front room. The furniture was harsher in design, lacking the age that the other pieces held. His walls bore no artwork, no photographs, no nothing. The only thing on the dresser was his wallet, and on the nightstand, the lone adornment was a radio alarm clock.

  Nothing that screamed Kale resided in this room. How very odd.

  In fact, the more I looked around, the darker the bedroom seemed overall. Black lacquer wood, dark grey curtains on the solitary window, black and grey bedspread. The whole thing left me with an uncomfortable chill.

  Yeah, definitely time to get out of the bed. Out of the room. Without him in it, the place seemed full of creepy shadows.

  My feet hit the ground just as he poked his head in the doorway. For a moment, his expression fell. Then he gave me a curious squint. “You didn’t have to get up.”

  “I needed to.” I glanced around again, uneasily. “I’m not used to this whole idle thing.” Determined to shrug off the feeling something might jump out from his closet, I forced a bright smile. “Can I help with anything?”

  Yes, that was me, offering to do something domestic. Ugh. He’d really worked a number on me.

  “Nope.” He passed me a mug of black coffee. “I’ve got it covered.”

  “I suppose you have sugar covered too?”

  “Huh?”

  I gestured at the coffee. “I’ll get it.”

  “Oh!” He laughed, a rich, rumbling sound that momentarily struck me with awe. He sounded genuinely happy. Like maybe this morning left him with that same contentedness I felt.

  Quit being sappy. Before my head could run away with nonsense, I set the mug on the nightstand and pulled on my clothes. When I ducked my head through the sweatshirt, I found Kale watching appreciatively. Another dose of self-conscious awareness smacked into me, and I awkwardly shuffled my feet. “Um. Sugar?”

  “Yeah, it’s this way.” He beckoned me to follow, and then led me down the hall.

  Each step took me closer to a hearty aroma that made my mouth water—bacon. I hadn’t had bacon in months.

  As we passed through his living room, however, my gaze pulled to the sofa, where my book still lay on the cushion. I did my best to ignore it, entered the kitchen, and pulled a tall stool to a scarred wooden island in the middle of the small room. The stovetop sat prominently in the middle, and a pan sizzled away.

  Kale pulled a stoneware jug from beneath the island and passed it my way. When I reached for it, he captured my hand. “Hey,” he said quietly. “You okay? You’re acting like a nervous mouse.”

  “Um.” Frantically, I searched for some logical explanation that sounded better than I’ve never had a boyfriend before.

  He clasped my hand a bit more tightly. “You aren’t having regrets, are you?”

  “Regrets? What? No.” I shook my head, adamant. “No, I’m good.”

  “Then why the agitation?”

  I took a deep breath, blew it out hard. “How do you do that?”

  It was Kale’s turn to look taken aback. “Do what?”

  “Ask me one question that I presume is supposed to be simple and leave me feeling exposed?”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t realize I did.”

  “Yeah. All the time.”

  Kale released my hand and turned his attention on the pan. With a long-tined fork, he flipped the strips of bacon, talking as he cooked. “So. What’s up? Why are you fidgety?”

  Drat. I’d hoped he would ignore it. “I just…” I turned my coffee mug in slow circles, staring at the black brew. “I’m…” That’s a way to sound completely intelligent. I gave myself a mental kick, took another deep breath, and blurted, “I’ve never been in a relationship.”

  “I gathered that.” He glanced up from the stove with a smirk that quickly vanished, presumably at my widened eyes. “I mean,” he hurried to amend, then shook his head. “No. That’s not what I mean at all.” Kale slid the pan off the stove and studied me for a moment.

  Talk about tongue-tied. He was making me look like a public orator. I arched an eyebrow.

  “You keep yourself at a distance, Halle. It’s pretty obvious personal involvements aren’t a habit. I feel pret
ty special that you’re here.”

  Oh man…my face flushed with heat. Quickly, I dipped my head to hide the furious blush.

  Kale reached across the island; gentle fingertips lifted my chin. “It’s just me. Nothing changes. You’re not boxed in, and I’ll still take you back home the minute you ask, even if it kills me to do so. I made you a promise, Halle.” The seriousness fled his expression, and he turned his full attention back to the pan of bacon. “Now, how many strips do you want?”

  Just like that, once more, he melted my fears away.

  * * *

  Four hours later—yes, four, as breakfast led to a shower that landed us back in bed, and we had to recharge with brunch—I found myself inside the casting chamber with Kale’s back flattened against the wall by a spell that I controlled.

  He was laughing.

  In fact, he’d been laughing pretty much since we started. I suspected he was attempting to trigger my anger, as we both now knew without doubt, that anger allowed me to cast spells. But what I hadn’t let on yet, was I hadn’t been even mildly irritated by his taunts. I’d used Maude’s suggestion, and when I felt the prickle of power answer one of Kale’s casted spells, I let it take whatever direction it wanted.

  He grinned broadly, the only movement he could make. “Pretty impressive. But easily countered by this.”

  With a whisper of a few words, he flung my invisible force back at me and knocked me on my butt. I landed with a hard thump that jarred the wind out of me. But he wasn’t finished yet. Another downward slash of his hand, and I scooted like a kicked soccer ball across the room and flush against the opposing wall.

  “Now what?” he taunted.

  Okay, that wasn’t fair, and I admit, my ire sparked as my tailbone throbbed. I searched my memory for the steps to one of the spells we’d reviewed on our arrival: a fiery blast, pelting ice shards, or even that incredible chain of lightning. But nothing would cooperate, the words blurring together in my memory.

  Still, my fingers tingled where they rested on the ground. I closed my eyes to the sensation, let it flow through me, imagining it building with each beat of my heart. I had to have done something right, because when I looked at Kale again, surprise washed across his handsome face. He took a step backward.

  In the next instant, iridescent yellow light shot through the room. It arced toward the ceiling, a pulsing ball of energy where it divided into several smaller balls. Reds, blues, yellows, oranges, greens, and colors in between churned a frenetic circle that spiraled outward, larger, and larger.

  Kale let out a shout, and they all vanished in a blink.

  “That’s cheating,” I muttered as I picked myself off the ground.

  Before I could take a step, the ground shifted underneath me. No. Not shifted. Fell away. I hovered over it by a good two feet. And I was moving. Slowly floating toward Kale, who beckoned with one hand. The other he held before him, fingers spread in the gesture I’d come to realize was his way of channeling continuous energy.

  His eyes never left mine, even as he lowered me to my feet, my toes scant millimeters from his. But his arms wound around my waist so quickly I couldn’t grasp my bearings. I toppled forward into his embrace.

  “It’s not cheating. You’re not supposed to deal mortal wounds.”

  “Mortal wounds?” Horrified, I covered my mouth with my hand.

  “Did you see the dark purple?”

  I nodded.

  “Suffice to say it’s deadly.”

  “But…you can’t die.”

  He shook his head. “No. I never said that. I said a banshee can’t kill me. Now tell me truthfully, did you call that one on purpose?”

  I debated lying. After all, the chances that he’d realize I wasn’t telling the truth were slim—he couldn’t read my mind. But somewhere between rushing to find him last night and toweling him off in the bathroom that morning, the idea of lying to Kale left a bitter taste in my mouth. “No,” I answered. “It just…happened.”

  He ran his hands up my spine then slid them down to rest them at my waist. “And the others today? Because you’re being pretty accurate.”

  “No,” I confessed again. “Maude said last night to not focus on specifics. So I haven’t. I’ve just let the energy go when I feel it.”

  “Hm.” He released me and took a step back to lean one hip on the nearby table that was littered with scrolls. “Can you tell what I’m using on you?”

  “Mostly, no. Some I recognize, but I think that’s because you like to use them.”

  “Hm,” he murmured again, reaching for my hand.

  I placed my fingers in his palm, and he drew me closer, tugging me until our thighs touched. Then he captured my other hand and laced his fingers through mine, holding both at either side.

  “What else did Maude tell you?”

  I glanced up through my eyelashes and felt my heart kick hard. Hard enough it knocked the sense out of my head, and I spilled another truth I hadn’t expected to ever confide. “That I could trust you.”

  A slow, sensual smile formed on his mouth. “Yes. That you can.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m proud of you.” He gave my hands a squeeze. “You’ve come a long way in a short amount of time.”

  “I don’t have time to waste. My sister has been suffering for too long. And so has Mom.”

  A dark frown erased the soft lines in his expression. “You aren’t ready yet.”

  “No. But I will be.”

  “And then what? How are you going to find your mother?”

  “You’re going to take me.”

  He chuckled. “I am, huh? Where’d you get that idea?”

  I can’t explain what possessed me in that instant. But a sense of confidence descended around me that had nothing to do with magical powers and everything to do with femininity. I leaned in close to his long-sleeved jersey, pressed a kiss to his pectoral, then deliberately raked my teeth across his nipple. “I figure I can convince you.”

  A shudder gripped him. “Yes, keep that up, and I expect you can.”

  The sound of the thudding door jerked us both to attention. I swiveled to investigate our intruder at the same time Kale let out a barely discernable oath.

  Gerard stood in the doorway, frozen as if he’d stumbled upon the last scene he’d ever expected to witness, his features a mask of pure shock. He recovered in a blink, cleared his throat, and strode forward. “Kale, Halle.” He nodded at us both. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the Council is requesting a status update on Halle’s training.” He stopped at Kale’s left and looked directly at his son. “You’re needed in the meeting.” His gaze slid to me. “Now.”

  Oh. That was my cue to vanish, I supposed. I shook my hands free of Kale’s and moved aside.

  “You’ll forgive me, won’t you, Halle?” Gerard continued. “Some of our meetings are open only to the council. I can’t allow you to attend this one.”

  Definitely my cue to go away. But there was something off in his expression. He was looking at me, yet not quite. And the apology in his tone of voice didn’t register in his eyes. My father had looked at me that way countless times. Mostly when he tried to laugh-off the way he’d begun to look at my sister.

  A lie.

  About what? Why was it necessary? I frowned at him. “Do you want my forgiveness for being cut out, or for lying to me?”

  Gerard drew back in surprise. “I wasn’t—”

  “You were. But that’s okay. I get it you don’t want me present. I’ve got things to do.” I shrugged away from Kale.

  “Halle, wait—” Kale’s fingers closed around my elbow.

  I jerked off his hold. “No. You go on with your secret meeting about me. I have a duck to tend to.”

  With that, I stalked out of the room.

  Nineteen

  I was halfway to my room when the combination of hurt and anger grew so fierce all I could think about was slamming my fis
t into the stone wall. My energy levels had surpassed the usual tingling. I had no doubt if I lost concentration on holding it in check, something monumental would explode out of me. While it might give me an outlet, the fallout concerned me. None of the people hanging about the courtyard deserved my wrath.

  They were talking about me. Kale, Gerard, Maude, and probably Beth, too. Worse, Gerard had actually thought I was stupid enough to not pick up on his ridiculous attempt to cover the fact I wasn’t being included.

  Were they bemoaning the decision to bring me into the fold? Second-guessing my ability to take down my uncle? That would serve them right.

  More than anything, I suspected Beth had brought Kale’s and my involvement to the Council’s attention, and that was the likely subject of discussion. If it were magic, I could think of no reason they’d deliberately exclude me. They were probably telling Kale, right now, how unsuitable I was, how I was beneath him.

  And one of those damned fools would probably trash my mother as well. That I was just like her, bound to be remembered in shadows, not their precious little lamps-lit portraits. If they even bothered to remember me at all.

  Oh, what I’d give to be a fly on the wall and hear every word of their little bash-Halle session. Hah! Wouldn’t that surprise the hell out of them? They could rip me and my mother up one side and down the other, and when they finished, I’d wink into existence, smugly tell them they could all go to hell, and walk out as they stumbled over their tongues. They’d certainly never expect that from me.

  Satisfaction built as my thoughts compounded, each angry little dig pushing me that much further into full-out fury. Not the dangerous kind. But the kind where someone was absolutely going to get a tongue-lashing when I cornered them. Whether it would be Gerard or Kale remained to be seen.

  For that matter, Kale might have protested the decision to exclude me. I mean, he certainly couldn’t believe I’d shrug it off with a happy-go-lucky smile. Then again, maybe he didn’t want me there either. He could tell them how truly pathetic my magic was without risk of offending me. He could even disclose my book and laugh at my claim I might be a windwalker.