Autumn Storm (The Witchling #2)(52)

When Rania was gone, Autumn’s headache began to fade.

“I can go,” she said to Michael.

“Not in this storm.” The words were kind but firm enough to warn her it was a closed subject.

“I’ve got a collection of war movies I’ve been saving for when we were snowed in,” Grandpa Louis said to her. “Care to join me?”

She looked at Michael. He offered a smile she took as meaning for her to go ahead.

“Sure,” she said. She stood and followed Grandpa Louis down the hall to a media room. Her thoughts were on the strange disappearance of Rania’s magick when her mate touched her and the information the men gave her.

Had she done something similar to Decker Monday after their walk? His whole body surrendered to her touch. If so, did that mean Summer wasn’t his mate, like everyone thought she was?

The idea he’d fallen in love with the wrong person made her feel bad. Maybe, she was misreading what happened. After all, she didn’t think she’d handle the life of a Dark Master’s mate with the same calm acceptance as Michael and Grandpa Louis. Or maybe she might, if it meant going to bed every night with Decker. The thought made her stumble on her way to the seats up front.

Pain went through her, and she gritted her teeth, realizing she didn’t have painkillers with her. How long was Beck planning on leaving her here? How long could the storm last?

Autumn sat down and waited for Grandpa Louis. He joined her, cheerful, as the first documentary started. Several hours later, just when the US entered World War II, she was asleep.





Chapter Fourteen





Autumn awoke in a bedroom in the cabin the next morning. She didn’t recall leaving the media room but must have found her way to the guest room at some point. The scents of fresh coffee and breakfast drifted under the closed door. She rolled onto her back and gazed at the ceiling. There were maps of the constellations taped to the ceiling. Two were drawn in and shaded.

Orion. Scorpio. Why did she know them?

Her body didn’t hurt this morning, but her head did. She sat up and looked around. It was a guy’s room; the color scheme was dark blue and black. There was a small fireplace in one wall.

The headache grew. Autumn looked away. It was too early for a migraine, especially since the rest of her body felt decent for once. The en suite bathroom had everything she needed for a shower, and she took a long one, grateful for the privacy Dawn had yet to afford her. When she exited, she was surprised to find her dirty clothes gone and a clean set waiting for her on the newly made bed. Her two rocks sat on top.

Autumn lifted the sweater, troubled to find it similar to one she already owned. Unable to escape the sense she’d been here before, she gazed up at the star maps on the ceiling. Confusion and memories warred within her until she gave up digging through her mind for answers. The clothing was in her size. She refused to think about how or why but changed and limped to the stairs leading to the main floor of the cabin.

It was the second night of her life she’d slept without pain. It returned as she navigated the stairs. She was almost relieved at the sensation. It didn’t confuse her like everything else here did. She joined Grandpa Louis in the kitchen.

“My famous crepes,” he said. He set a plate of thin, rolled crepes on the breakfast table in the kitchen. They were topped with huckleberries.

Autumn wolfed them down, her gaze going to the peaceful scene outside the window. The lake was covered with snow, and trees sagged under the weight of white. She drank two cups of coffee and was on her third when Beck’s voice came from the hallway behind her.

“Heya, Grandpa Louis,” he said cheerfully.

She twisted to see him walk into the kitchen. He appeared more rested than he had when he dropped her off with his parents, though there was still an unusual wariness to him.

“Ready?” he asked her.

“For…?”

“I’m your ride back to the school.” He held out a hand.

“Okay.” She rose and crossed to Grandpa Louis, giving him a hug. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” he said, squeezing her back. “Beck will bring you cookies, next time he is in.”

She smiled then took Beck’s hand. The white cloud descended then lifted, revealing the comfortable television room of the school. She shuddered at the strange magick. Releasing him, she faced him with a glare.

“Why did you leave me there?” she asked.

“Yeah.” His hard gaze rested on the top of the stairwell, not on her.

“Beck, what’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re freaking me out again.”

He squeezed her arm, eyes returning to hers. “Tanya went missing yesterday. She didn’t show up at her parents, and they called the school. I’m trying to figure out if she was snatched or something.”

She gasped. “Really?”

“I’ve been working on tracking Decker down.”

“You don’t think…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She had to admit; it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that Decker – or whatever that thing inside him was – was capable of kidnapping a witchling, if he killed so many of them.

“I think he’s pissed enough at me to lash out at anyone he thinks I’m interested in. I wanted to make sure you were okay last night.”