by Lizzy Ford
Beck wanted to curse. His earth magick was sometimes a little too subtle. It had been warning him Autumn was in pain all night, and he hadn’t paid attention. One day, he’d be able to respond to his instincts better.
“Here. You’re hurting.” He held out his hand.
“I’m not hurting.”
“Whatever,” he said, amused at her arch tone. “Take it, woman.”
Autumn did so grudgingly. Summer wasn’t stubborn, either. Autumn’s body pulled at his magick and relaxed as it spread through her. She sighed.
“I don’t know how you do it,” he said, listening to what the magick told him about her injuries. “You’re in a lot of pain.”
“You grow a tolerance to it.”
Beck glanced at her, dismayed to see she was serious. His sense of excitement at Summer surviving faded, replaced by the reality that she’d probably suffer the rest of her life. Was a second trial worth it?
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“I’m not. I pulled through when no one thought I would. I’m grateful.”
He said nothing and squeezed her hand. Autumn rested her head against the headrest. Within minutes, she was asleep. Her body told him she hadn’t had a moment of sleep without pain. Beck pushed more of his magick into her, wanting to make up for the guilt stinging his emotions. He spent the trip home in thought.
She slept until they reached the school. He nudged her awake, released her and walked around the car to open her door. She took the hand he offered. He didn’t risk her rejection and instead helped her up the stairs. Too tired to object, Autumn and waved at him with a yawn as she entered the main house. Beck crossed his arms in the cold night and waited for her to close the door behind her.
Now that she was gone, he could freak out all he wanted. He rubbed the back of his head and trotted down the porch stairs to his car. He wasn’t accustomed to the intensity or wide range of his emotions and slammed his hand into the car roof, frustrated. Resting his forehead against the cold metal, he focused his thoughts. He needed to talk to his mother tonight.
“Hot date?”
Beck cursed himself quietly for not listening to his magick. He’d set up an alarm of sorts to warn him when Dawn was around. His father advised him to avoid the girl at all costs, especially being alone with her. She was unstable enough to accuse him of anything and everything under the sun.
The alarm was going off, and he’d been too freaked out by Autumn to pay attention. One day, he’d get this right!
“Hi, Dawn,” he said and lifted his head. He forced a smile, determined not to get sucked into Dawn’s moods.
She came from the direction of the kitchen entrance, dressed for a night out. Beck’s gaze swept over her. She wore a tight mini-dress and heels high enough to bring her close to his six-foot-two height. Dawn had always been the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, with features and a body that got her into modeling when she was twelve. She’d left her career for the boarding school when she was fifteen. Right now, she was pretending to be friendly and sweet with a smile that used to pull him in.
As hot as she was, regret and guilt had long replaced anything else he felt for her.
“Hi, Beck,” she said.
“I’m taking off,” he said and opened his car door.
“It’s a girl.”
He froze. His gaze dropped to her abdomen. At four months pregnant, she was starting to show and still dressed for the club. Dawn shivered, appearing vulnerable in the cold night. She hugged herself.
“I’m giving her my last name,” Dawn continued. “I, um, wanted to see if you had any name ideas.”
Beck was silent for a long moment. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Huh.” She raised an eyebrow, and a spark of anger in her gaze warned him.
“I mean, you just told me it was a girl. I’ll have to think about it,” he added quickly.
Dawn drew closer. She stood a couple of feet from him. The world was closing in on him. First Autumn, now a baby girl. Beck wanted to run away screaming.
“Is … she healthy?” he asked.
“Of course. I don’t smoke or drink anymore.” Dawn reached out to him and took his hand. She placed his palm against her lower belly.
His earth magick felt the new life. Beck swallowed hard. He left his hand on her stomach when she dropped hers, unable to fathom the idea that his own child grew there. He wasn’t ready to be the protector of Light witchlings. He was even less prepared to be a father.
“Are you certain we can’t … make things work, Beck?” Dawn asked. “Even for her?”
He understood how dangerous the question was. Beck thought hard for an answer that wouldn’t set her off. When he was quiet, she stepped closer.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to be a family?” she asked.
“I’m not ready for that,” he said at last.
“And I am? So what, you’re going to make me raise your kid alone?”
She was right. This was as much his responsibility as hers, and entirely his fault for not thinking before sleeping with every blond girl that crossed his path. Beck didn’t know what to say.
“Your father’s legal team hasn’t even asked for visitation. Does that mean you don’t want anything to do with us?” Dawn searched his gaze.
“I’ll make sure you’re both taken care of,” he replied hoarsely.
“I’ll never model again, Beck. You realize that, don’t you? And it’s your fault!”
Overwhelmed, he said nothing.
“Fine, abandon us!” Dawn whirled to leave.
Beck caught her arm. “Dawn, wait.” He sought anything to say. “I don’t want to abandon you. I want to be a part of my daughter’s life.”
“What are you saying?”
“I don’t know.”
She sighed noisily. “You don’t know. Great one, Beck. Daddy is right. You’re an irresponsible, immature idiot.”
You don’t know the half of it, he agreed silently. “I need time to figure things out, Dawn.”
“What is there to figure out? We’re having a baby. If you want to see your daughter, you’ll give us a chance.”
“Let me think about it.”
“You’re such a loser. Master of Light? You’re worthless, Beck!” She strode away.
Beck didn’t wait for her to make it inside. He dropped into his car and slammed the door closed, locking it. He couldn’t handle another surprise this night. His jaw was clenched tight enough that the muscles on both sides were twitching.
What he hated most was that Dawn was right about him. He was a horrible Master of Light. He’d make a terrible father. He sat for a long moment, until the chill of the night made him shiver. Pulling himself out of his mind, he started the car and drove it down the gravel road to the paved road leading towards his parent’s cabin.
He pulled into their driveway, noticing that there was light on in the family room. It made the pine trees outside the window glow. Someone was up. He hoped it was his mom. Beck waited for the garage door to open then pulled in. He trotted up the stairs leading from the garage to the kitchen.
The cabin was warm and smelled of cinnamon. He walked down the hallway on the ground floor into the family room. His step slowed.
His mother was there, but she wasn’t going to be in any shape to advise him. A beer glass filled with what looked like his father’s expensive scotch was on the table beside the couch. It was half empty. Next to it was an orange prescription bottle. His mother was on the couch, asleep. The former Mistress of Dark, she wasn’t the kind of person one could creep up on. If she didn’t sense him, she was beyond out.
Beck picked up the bottle, not surprised to see it was for sleeping pills. He knew why she was hurting: Beck’s life was a mess and Decker was going crazy. He brushed his mother’s face with his fingertips. Her shadows inched away from the Master of Light. Earth magick confirmed what he thought.
“You okay, son?”
Beck glanced towards the recliner.
His father was sitting with an electronic reader, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He removed his glasses.
“Not really,” Beck replied. He sat down in front of the blazing fire in the stone hearth, the source of the light he’d seen. He met his father’s gaze, thoughtful. “Dawn told me it’s a girl.”
His father lowered the e-reader and turned on the light beside his chair. Beck sprawled out on his back, staring at the log ceiling.
“Am I being irresponsible?” he asked.
“That’s a hard question to answer, Beck,” his father said. “Do I think you should be involved in your daughter’s life? Yes. Do I think you should consent to a shotgun wedding for the sake of a child? Not necessarily. If the environment you’d create is unhealthy, no.”
“I keep praying the kid’s not mine. Then I feel awful, because she’s someone’s daughter, stuck with a mother like that,” Beck said. “I think with me as a father …” He couldn’t say the words.
“She’d have a chance?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re right. You’ll make a great father.”
“How can you believe that?” Beck asked. “Look at this mess! I never thought twice about sleeping with her. How can I be a good father, let alone protect the Light witchlings when I’m so stupid? It’s insane!”
His father smiled. “You’re aware of your weakness. You’re working on it. That’s most of the battle, son.”
Michael Turner always had the answers. Beck sighed in exasperation. He wished he was half as calm or confident as his father.
“You’ll make a strong Master of Light. It takes time, though.”
“I don’t have time,” Beck said, thinking about Decker and Autumn. He turned his head to see his mother. “I can’t protect my own family. How can I add a kid to the mix?”
“One day at a time. First, we need to confirm the kid is yours. If so, she and her mother will never want for anything.”
“I know. I’m not worried about the financial stuff. I feel so guilty leaving Dawn on her own, but I want a relationship like yours and mom’s. Do Light Master’s have a mate like Dark Masters?”
“Not sure. Sam probably knows. Either way, you shouldn’t marry someone you have doubts about.”
“There’s no doubt,” Beck said. “I don’t want to marry her. If I listened to Decker or stopped to think before sleeping with her…” He shook his head. “I won’t do that again.”
“Thank goodness.” His father was amused.
Beck’s face grew warm. He didn’t know how his father took everything so calmly.
“Why is mom sleeping on the couch?” he asked suddenly.
“Interesting question. I noticed you didn’t ask why she’s washing down drugs with alcohol.” There was quiet concern in Michael’s voice.
Beck sat up but didn’t meet his father’s gaze.
“I hoped the secrets stopped once Decker became Master of Dark.”
“I’m sorry, dad,” he said. “You’re not getting a divorce, are you?” The irrational fear at the thought of his foundation crumbling made his breath hitch. He was barely able to handle his life as it was.
Michael chuckled. “No, son.”
“I think it’s the last secret,” Beck said, wanting to offer some comfort to the person who knew what to say to him.
“She’s hurting and won’t let me help her. That’s what frustrates me.”
“I know that feeling. God, do I know that feeling!”
“Sometimes, you have to let them come to you, as much as it sucks.”
The chances that Decker asked for help before sinking into the Darkness weren’t good. And Autumn was too stubborn. Beck’s gaze lingered on his mother, who was just as likely to crack as his twin. He didn’t like the worry in his father’s voice, though he was struck by how much he and his father had in common. His whole life, Michael had been the source of strength and unity for the family.
“How the hell have you lived with mom all these years?” Beck demanded. “I’m about to kill Decker.”
“You’ll understand one day,” his father said with a smile.
Beck forced himself to his feet. He felt a little better, though he wasn’t at all happy not to talk to his mother about Autumn.
“Mind if I stay here tonight?” he asked.
“Of course not.”
“Thanks. I’m gonna lay down. I need some quiet time and some of Grandpa Louis’s crepes.”
“All you can do is your best, Beck.”
Beck nodded, unconvinced. His best had yet to be remotely good enough. He left the living area, guilty for keeping a family secret from his father. They were sworn to secrecy about Autumn. It was worse for his mother, for she promised to stand by while Decker fell into Darkness. She understood what it meant. Beck didn’t exactly, but if it drove his normally in-control mother to sleeping pills and alcohol, it was worse than he could imagine.
Which meant Decker was suffering even more. Beck went to his room and turned on the light. His gaze went to a framed picture on his dresser, and he crossed to it. It was him and Decker, two Christmases ago. Before Decker went Dark. Before they became Masters. Before their world went to shit.
Beck didn’t know how to get his brother back. He wasn’t even sure he could. It was in Autumn’s hands, and he wasn’t getting a warm fuzzy about her ability to fix Decker in time. Frustrated at being helpless, he threw himself across the bed, doubting he’d be able to sleep.
Chapter Six
Autumn found herself alone in the small gym near the instructors’ offices. She breathed in then slowly out as she did another repetition on the leg curl machine. Her leg shook and burned. The pain grew intense, and she closed her eyes.
Uuuuuup. Pause. Dooooown.
Ten.
She sighed. She’d missed Friday’s therapy, and her body was punishing her for it this morning. Sitting up, she stretched her right leg and did her gentle mobility exercises.
It ached from all her activity since arriving to the school. Her eyes went to the scars running along one whole side and the crisscross of lines around her knee. She still expected her knee to creak when she bent it, like the Tinman squeaked every time he moved on the Wizard of Oz. The movie had played at least once a week while she was in the hospital. She thought of her right leg as being like the Tinman’s: metal, bolts and plastic, except hers was held together by new muscle and covered by skin. She didn’t have much feeling in most of her leg, other than her foot.
Relieved to have the worst of her routine over, Autumn rose and limped to the display of free weights along one wall. Her body had had to relearn most of its movements after the accident. Aside from her leg and the split down her face and neck, she’d broken one arm, herniated a couple of discs in her back and torn muscles in her right shoulder. Internal hemorrhaging had been the biggest threat during her first week in the hospital. Once it was clear she’d survive, they’d started her immediately into restoring the parts of her body they could while the rest of her went through surgeries.
Rehab had concentrated as much on strengthening her core as rebuilding the muscles around her injuries. She was surprised – and pleased – to see the Pilates reformer machine in the school gym when she walked in this morning. The hospital had one as well, and the nurses taught her how to use it. She’d started with her core this morning then moved onto her legs. Next up: the chest and arm exercises.
When she finished with the two hour session, she stood shakily before the mirrors lining one wall. With her hair in a bun and no makeup, she saw the scar clearly that ran down the side of her face and neck and those along her right arm and leg. She looked like Raggedy Ann: held together by stitching and nothing else. That cartoon, too, had played every day at the hospital.
She almost smiled. Three months ago, she’d hurt so much, she wanted to die. She’d awoken the third day in the hospital to a wall of pain that seemed like it would crush her. The surgeries, needles, headaches from medications. The agony. The drugs they gave her t
ook the edge off but didn’t stop it. There’d been no escape. Unable to move or cry, she’d been lost in the pain for days, until she woke one day and decided she had to survive. If she hadn’t died, there was a reason. Something was waiting for her on the other end of her recovery. She just had to make it that far.
She turned her focus from the pain to being alive. The Wizard of Oz, the blue sky outside her hospital window, the small victories in being able to move more of her body every day – these distractions helped her get through the days. Instead of seeing each surgery as resulting in another journey of pain, she saw it as a step closer to rebuilding her body.
Pain was a constant, like the terrible elevator music in the hallways where she’d waited for rehab or more surgeries. She vowed it wouldn’t beat her. She’d made it and better, she’d recovered faster than anyone at the hospital expected.
Autumn was proud of herself. Her memories were gone, but her mind still worked. They’d feared brain damage after the hemorrhaging. Aside from a concussion, she’d suffered no lasting damage. Her brain was healthy, and so were her organs. She simply had to rebuild her musculature. She’d defeated the weakness with sheer will. These scars and aches were all that remained of the agony, and they were fading. She was winning.
Maybe it didn’t matter if she ever remembered, especially since trying gave her such bad headaches. She was grateful to be alive. If she survived the accident, she’d survive anything.
Drained from her morning workout, she left the gym upbeat. She’d try wearing her brace half the day and then leaving it off half the day. The doctors said to do what was comfortable, as long as she was weaning herself off of it and doing her exercises. The smell of breakfast made her pause at the foot of the stairwell and look into the dining room. It was early, just after eight, but Jenna was at the table. Her hair was tousled, and she wore her pajamas.
After a split moment of indecision, Autumn joined her at the table.
“Oh, no!” Jenna said, covering her face. “I was hoping no one was up yet. I didn’t even put on make-up.”
“I don’t care,” Autumn said with a smile. She lowered herself into the seat across from Jenna.
