Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(31)

Danger. This he heard, a whisper in the wind.

Beck recalled the last image it showed him, of the Dark eating away at the core of the Light. He couldn’t piece the two visions together, and the earth seemed to be happy just to deliver the message. It was calming now, as if it trusted him to know what to do.

He didn’t. He wrote down this vision and the last, stared at it, then closed the notebook.

“We’re getting better at this,” he told the earth in approval. “I won’t get discouraged, and you keep showing me puzzle pieces.”

The magick replied with images of forest animals.

Beck almost laughed. They were definitely speaking two different languages. He wasn’t certain yet how to bridge the gap.

He rose and checked his watch. He was half an hour late for his first class. Every morning, the girls took dancing lessons and the boys played sports. It was thought that teaching the witchlings to understand and communicate with their physical bodies helped them manage the wild magick that flowed within them.

It was too cold for outdoor sports, so the boys were confined to the small gym.

Beck left the forest and went to the dorm room he used to share with Decker. His gaze always lingered on the bare bed. Seeing it reminded him how much had changed during the past few months. Decker was his best friend and had been throughout childhood. This had been their main home since they turned thirteen. They might have argued and fought, but they always came back to this room and each other.

Beck missed his twin. Decker was in the dorm in the Dark Campus, about sixty miles south of Priest Lake. It wasn’t far, but it felt that way. Especially today, when Beck’s thoughts were so scattered. The one he wanted most to push away – of kissing Morgan – just wouldn’t leave him alone.

He changed into workout pants and a t-shirt then trotted down the wooden walkway to the gym entrance. Low and long, the gym was loaded with cutting edge equipment, two wrestling mats, a free weight area and men’s and women’s locker rooms, each of which had Jacuzzis and saunas. Mirrors lined one wall, and the ventilation system kept the air fresh and cool.

A self-made billionaire and fanatic marathon runner, Michael Turner wasn’t about to build a gym with anything but the best.

The guys were gathered at one end of the gym. Beck assumed someone challenged someone else to a wrestling or kickboxing match. It happened sometimes in winter, when tension between students confined to campus by snow got too high. Fighting was forbidden – mostly because of Beck and Decker’s huge fight from a year ago – but wrestling and kickboxing were permitted.

His gaze went to Connor. Even the sight of Morgan’s brother made Beck feel more frustrated. He wasn’t going to think of her today or even talk to her if he did. No matter how much he enjoyed kissing her, he was going to do what he should have yesterday: walk away.

Determined, Beck strode towards the end of the gym. It was a good day for wrestling matches.

“Beck, c’mon.” One of the guys motioned him forward, grinning. “You gotta see this.”

Beck joined them, hoping no one was bloodied up. It was hard enough to convince the pacifist Amber to let them wrestle, let alone defend the program when one got the occasional bloody nose.

His breath caught when he was close enough to see who was wrestling.

“Shift your weight, Morgan,” Connor instructed.

Her hair in a ponytail, Morgan was working on breaking a hold that one of the other guys had her in. Her face was flushed, her eyes down as she concentrated.

“I so want to be next,” Isaac whispered.

“Not me,” Beck said. “I don’t want Connor kicking my ass if I mess up.”

There was no way he could touch Morgan without wanting her more. He watched her move, irritated to see some other guy’s arms around her and also relieved it wasn’t him in the ring. Then irritated that she was there in the first place. He was trying to avoid her, not see her shapely legs in shorts or let his eyes linger on her breasts.

Fire crept up the arm of her attacker. He jerked back. Morgan slammed her elbow into his chest, shifted her weight like her brother had told her and flung him over her hip.

The boys laughed.

“Morgan,” Connor sighed. “You’re not supposed to cheat.”

“It’s not cheating if I win,” she retorted.

“What happens when someone doesn’t fall for it?”

She rolled her eyes at him then smiled at the guy she’d thrown down. She offered her hand and pulled him up.

“You have the advantage of a low center of balance. Use that,” Connor told her. “For someone tall, that lets you use their weight against them.”

“She’s beat the past three guys, Connor,” Adam said. “Maybe she should be teaching us, not you.”

“Not until she does it right,” was the snappy reply. Connor’s gaze shifted to Beck.

Beck waited to see if the elder brother gave any indication that he knew about last night. Connor smiled, which Beck took as a negative.

“One more, sis,” Connor said.

“Fine,” Morgan said.

“Beck.”

Morgan went rigid. Her back was to him, but Beck couldn’t help the side of him that wanted to see her face that moment. He loved the idea of teasing her, even if it ended up with him getting his ass kicked by a girl.