Spring Rain (The Witchling #4)(45)

Noah drove her to the perfect place: an old dock. A cracking cement slab extended from the bank into the lake about twenty feet. He parked on the grass near the old dock and strode out onto the cement.

“Will this work?” he asked as he walked.

“Yeah.” She looked around for anything flammable within the near vicinity. There were no other wooden docks or boats for a quarter of a mile, and the trees and grass were far enough not to be ignited by sparks.

Her muscles grew jittery, her fire thrilled about the challenge and prospect of being completely unleashed. She tested her magick’s responsiveness as they chose a spot to set him afire. It was hard to focus, even when it was eager to help. She had always struggled to channel her fire exactly where she wanted it to go. Beck’s ability to calm it had helped, but he wasn’t there.

Satisfied her magick was as ready as it could be, Morgan looked Noah up and down.

“Um, no offense, but … your clothes might melt to your skin.”

Noah drew a deep breath and stripped down to his boxers. “Want me to lay down or something?”

Embarrassed to be around a guy who was mostly naked, she could only nod. Morgan tried hard not to look at his body and instead dropped to her knees at his side and sat back on her heels. Her right thigh pressed to his side, and she gazed down at him nervously. Noah was breathing quickly, his water magick restrained yet bubbling every once in awhile, as if it knew what was about to happen.

What if I kill him? She paused. Noah didn’t deserve to die and she had no idea how she’d live with killing him. With trembling hands, she set her phone out next to the soul stone on the cement slab, far enough away that the fire wouldn’t affect it. She’d pre-typed up a note for Beck to come get her and that he might need to heal someone. All she had to do when the time came was tap send.

“Okay, maybe you should let your water magick free a little,” she said. “I want to try to target the fire to your Darkness, so you can maybe … I don’t know. Tell your water to go everywhere else?”

He nodded and closed his eyes. His cool magick filled the air around him, and she placed quivering hands on his warm chest. Immediately, his water magick pushed at her, and she sensed his fear conveyed across their physical connection. She steadied her magick.

“Ready?” she whispered, terrified of what was about to happen.

“No. But do it. Burn that shit out of me.”

Morgan withdrew one hand and lifted it, summoning her fire magick. Her hand glowed orange, red, yellow, greenish, blue and finally burst into purple tipped with white. The brilliance of her flames caused her to close her eyes, and she tested the fire’s intention of obeying her before she unleashed it.

It was eager – and wild.

Noah’s breathing was even faster, shallower. “Do it, Morgan,” he ordered.

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” she told him.

He said nothing.

Morgan lowered the hand to his chest, and his body went rigid. She opened her eyes and pressed him back to the ground. A strangled cry left him, and he began to burn.

Take me to the Darkness, she directed her fire. It raced through him, igniting his skin in purple flames that leapt towards the sky, while her magick ferreted out the Darkness in his soul. Rather than be located in one place like she expected, it was spread throughout him, intertwining with his magick and clinging to his spirit.

His body jerked and writhed, and the scent of burning flesh and hair filled the air. It sickened her and motivated her as well to burn hotter, faster, and end it sooner.

To her surprise, he didn’t scream, though she felt the water magick rise to fight the invasion. She was soon drenched from a combination of the light drizzle and his magick pushing back, but she leaned over him, pushing her flames to burn so purple they were nearly black.

She guided her fire with her mind, racing after the snakelike tendrils of Darkness that were fused to his core. Fused, yet vulnerable to fire as hot as hers. She envisioned the white tips traveling down the purple until her fire was nothing except white light. The flames refused to obey, and she cursed her inability to control the magick.

Noah went limp, his form boiling and his magick vanquished without his consciousness to control it.

Concerned, Morgan forced more energy into him to speed up the process as much as possible. The purple flames turned black, scaring her. They became tipped with rainbow colors as they chased and twisted after the Darkness that was trying not to be burned with the rest of Noah.

Finally, the flames exploded into pure white that blinded her.

The water witchling was growing charred on the outside, raw on the inside as she chased down the last tendrils of Darkness.

When it was gone, she released the magick and leaned back with a gasp, panting and dizzy from the amount of effort it took. The white fire blazed into the sky and zipped back towards the school, fading from her sight.

Noah’s body glowed with mini-white flames. He was alive – barely – and the sight of his burnt, unrecognizable features made her panic. She snatched her cell and hit the send button on the text, knowing Beck was going to freak out as much as she was when he read it.

Morgan touched Noah’s melted skin, releasing a flare of fire magick into him.

His water was present, along with the faintest signs of life.

The Dark, however, was gone.

“Elsa,” she murmured. A flare of happiness leapt into her, along with horror as her adrenaline began to fade and she took in Noah’s fire-ravished form. Hysterics spread through her as she realized what exactly she had done. Had she saved him? Or just tortured him to death?