Spring Rain (13 page)

“I owe it to her to try before Beck and
Decker slaughter her.”

“She’s not herself. She’s possessed.”

“She’s still my sister.”

Morgan fell silent, disturbed. She would do
the same for her brother and could think of no logical argument
that would persuade her otherwise.

“If I’m not back in two hours, leave,” he
instructed her. He placed the room keycard and credit card on the
bureau opposite the beds.

“Call Biji first,” she said. “If something
happens, she deserves closure.”

He nodded stiffly and left.

Morgan watched him, gut twisting.

She had no intention of being there when he
got back. If Dawn didn’t kill him, she or one of her minions might
follow him back or start tailing them wherever they went. There
were a million things that could go wrong with his plan. He was
operating on emotion, not sense, and she knew very well the danger
accompanying this.

Morgan went to the window and watched him
start his motorcycle and roar away from the highway motel. When she
saw him merge onto the freeway, she pulled on her shoes and swiped
the cards from the top of the bureau.

Shoving her hands into her pockets, she
emerged from the hotel room into the chilly spring night and
started walking to the office. They were nowhere near a bus
station, but there were always cabs willing to come at any hours to
the hotels. She pulled out money from the ATM in the lobby and had
the night clerk call her a taxi.

The taxi arrived in ten minutes, and Morgan
had it take her to the bus station. Only after she had bought a
ticket did she start to relax and sat in the overheated waiting
area beside the ticket booths. Of all the people on her mind, her
thoughts were on her mother, who passed down the stone to her. How
much strife had her mother gone through because of her duty to
protect the stone?

How much more did her mother know about the
stone than she did? Was there any institutional knowledge remaining
at all, or was the history of their duty as vague as the
instructions on keeping the stone safe?

There had to be something that would help
her help Beck. Morgan tapped her phone, fire magick agitated enough
to irritate her.

She had never really thought about her
mother’s past or how she had to lie to everyone around her to
prevent the stone from falling into the hands of any other
witchling. It was a burden, and she viewed her mother and those who
came before her with newfound appreciation for their dedication to
their duty.

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-country
bus ride. “… three days, ten in the morning? I promise I’ll explain
everything.”

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.