Spring Rain (The Witchling #4)(33)

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.