Spring Rain (The Witchling #4)(43)

I’m special. Morgan’s mind began to race down a different track. Whether or not she had an earth witchling to help her, if she could burn hot enough to turn Dawn Light and possibly remove the threat of her using Darkness to hurt others, would that be enough? Or did she need to find a way to deal with Bartholomew first, and Dawn second?

Or … were they the same thing, and she needed to purify Bartholomew, not Dawn?

“You’ve been with your father since you were ten,” Tandy said. “I hardly know you anymore.”

“I’m still me, Mama,” Morgan said, touched by the sadness in her mother’s voice.

“I should’ve kidnapped you and run long ago. Looks like you had the same idea.”

Morgan laughed. “I didn’t kidnap you! You volunteered!”

“Of course I did! I haven’t spent more than half a day with my little girl in four years. After hearing you’d died in December …” Tandy’s eyes watered. “You think I was going to let you face whatever this is on your own?”

Morgan had the urge to hug her but didn’t. She was too unaccustomed to physical contact, too used to it hurting, for her to want to test the waters now. She’d hidden the bruises and marks from her mother and the rest of the world for too long. It was hard to lower her guard again, except with Beck.

“How is daddy?” she asked the question she’d feared posing.

“Gordon said he might put him in a nursing home. He said it’s getting too hard to take care of him.”

But he’s alive. Morgan didn’t think her father deserved the relief she felt at knowing this, not after all he’d let happen to her in his own household. “He might be better off away from Gordon,” she whispered.

“You wanna talk about it?” Tandy continued.

Morgan blinked out of her thoughts to glance at her mother again. “About …”

“Your uncle.”

“No. I don’t.”

“You should talk to someone, Morgan. You can’t keep that kind of negative energy inside you. It’ll eat you up.”

“Nope.”

“Look, girl, I’m a fire witchling, too! I can match that stubbornness seven ways from Sunday!”

Morgan rolled her eyes.

“Fine. But we will talk about it one day.”

“Whatever, Mom.”

“Wanna tell me about the boy you like?”

“No. I don’t like him!”

“It’s written all over your face every time you allude to him!”

“It is not!”

“You’re eighteen.” Tandy sighed. “Shouldn’t you be out of this stage?”

“Omigod! I should’ve gotten you a ticket for a bus leaving at a different time!”

Her mother laughed loudly. Morgan glanced at her, unable to help the smile tugging up the corner of her mouth. She hadn’t seen her mother smile or laugh this much in too many years.

It was nice to think there were three people she might be able to trust. Her brother, Beck, and her mother. It was difficult, even knowing how good they all were, and Morgan began to suspect she’d missed a lot the years she was separated from her mother. More than stories of witchlings with purple flames … Being with her mother was … nice. Peaceful. Warm, like being in a bonfire.

I want my life … me … to be different. She wanted to laugh with her mother and share Beck’s faith in others.

What would it take to become like them? To become someone who wasn’t damaged or afraid, to take a chance on the guy waiting for her and live even a day without fear?

What if she really could burn the Darkness out of someone? Would it help her fix herself, too? Caught between Light and Dark, she knew she was likely destined for the Dark, but what if she could burn it out of herself if that happened and guarantee a life with Beck?

She itched to try it, but who on earth would be crazy enough to let her? Who would want to be Light badly enough that they’d let her burn them to a crisp? She had no illusions about it being a peaceful event. To burn that hot, she’d have to loosen what little control she had on her fire and unleash it fully.

She sat pensive for a moment, unable to identify anyone desperate or stupid enough to let her …

Noah. If not for himself then maybe when she told him she thought she could save Dawn that way. Morgan debated for a moment, then glanced at her phone. Beck had told her Noah was okay and Dawn had taken his phone. She reread Beck’s sweet text before responding.

I want to try something. I’ll let you know if it works, she said. Does Noah have a new number?

She saw the bubble pop up on her screen indicating Beck was typing a response. It disappeared, reappeared, then disappeared again. Morgan cringed, hoping he didn’t think she’d completely ignored his beautiful message from earlier. She hadn’t, but neither did she know what to say about the unusual relationship between them. There was too much emotion she was avoiding when it came to Beck, not because she didn’t want to care, but because she feared letting herself care too much and lose focus of her goal to protect him.

Finally, Beck responded with nothing more than a phone number. Certain she’d pissed him off, she sighed and texted Noah.

Hey, it’s Morgan. Can you meet me at the Light school in two days, after dark? She texted. I have an idea about how to turn you Light again.