Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(5)

Movement beyond the boys’ dorms caught her attention. She paused to peer into the Square, the gathering area inside the horseshoe-shaped backyard, edged by the school and boys’ dorms. Witchling students held bonfires here most evenings after dinner, unless it was storming or too cold.

Today, however, it wasn’t a bonfire that caught her attention. A large Christmas tree was being moved into the center of the Square by a handful of hired workers.

Her eyes went to the windows of the girls’ dorm rooms, many of which overlooked the Square. Hers was one, and she frowned, realizing she’d be able to see the tree from her window.

She wanted to burn it down. Her fire magick stirred with her anger, and tiny sparks landed in the snow at her feet, sizzling to their demise.

Morgan hated Christmas more than snow. Christmas four years ago – a week before she turned fourteen – was the worst day of her life. She hadn’t celebrated her birthday or Christmas since.

She turned away from the Square and walked down the road, not wanting to recall that night. Or how this year, she’d be eighteen, old enough to run away finally, but without anywhere else to go.

Especially not if her overbearing brother, Connor, figured out her plan.

“You are way too cute to be frowning like that.”

Morgan’s breath caught at the familiar voice. She hadn’t heard it since arriving three weeks ago, when the teen boy with a dark complexion and beautiful, blue eyes left her feeling as if her head was either going to explode or float away. He’d accidentally touched her once, and she still remembered the giddy anxiety that flew through her faster than the fire magick did when she was angry.

And then, like all the rest of the good parts of her life, he had just … gone away. Abandoned her. Someone said he was on vacation in Europe with his family while others said he was in jail for getting some girl pregnant. There were lots of weird rumors about him. She took it as a sign that she didn’t need him in her life.

“Whatever,” she said without turning. She didn’t think she could look at him without feeling what she did when they met: as if the fire in her blood burned hot enough that she was fevered. The touch of his strong earth magick – calming as it was – distressed her.

No, he was not what she needed, especially so close to the anniversary of The Incident, the worst day of her life.

“We’re going to decorate as soon as the tree is up. You want to help?”

“No,” she replied firmly and started walking again, away from him.

“How are the sisters?” he asked, referring to the two younger teen girls she arrived with. They were all but traumatized when they arrived, having never left home before. She did what she could to help them relax, and then they, too, had found other friends and moved on without her.

“Fine.”

“You settling in okay?”

She sighed. He wasn’t taking the hint. Typical boy, like her brother, who needed a two-by-four to the head to understand when she wanted time alone.

“Connor and I are fine,” she said.

That shut him up, though she couldn’t help feeling disappointed that it did. Her brother always came between her and any guy who looked at her twice. Usually, she was grateful, but sometimes, she wondered what it was like to be a normal teen girl. One who didn’t have the dark secret she did or who wasn’t afraid to trust herself or the guys she was attracted to. One without a Dark father, emotional basket case of a Dark mother or a brother who took his role of protecting her too seriously. One who was able to date someone as cute as Beck.

“I, uh, kinda need to talk to you about something serious.” Beck’s voice jarred her out of her thoughts. She realized he hadn’t gone away; he was following, at a safe distance, as if aware that her fire didn’t react well in close quarters.

“What?” she asked, turning at last.

Tall and athletic, Beck was confident enough to be cocky. His smile was quick and friendly. He wore a white puffer jacket and jeans. Dark hair was neatly trimmed, and the combination of his high cheekbones, large eyes and strong jaw rendered him stunning. He glowed with Light that left her feeling inferior, after she was told in class that she was an in-between, neither Light nor Dark, like the polluted gray snow lining busy roads.

His steady gaze made her face grow warm.

“Amber says you’re not doing so well in class. I’m supposed to be mentoring you. So, I, uh, just wondered … what’s up,” he said. He rubbed the back of his head, as if unaccustomed to being a mentor with a bad student like her.

“Nothing,” she replied.

“She says the only thing you’re really interested in is your fire magick courses.”

“Yeah, so?” she asked. “Maybe I don’t like it here.”

“Is that it? You really don’t like it here?”

I don’t fit in. The mostly wealthy kids here had never been poor or hurt like she had. She’d never met anyone yet with two Dark parents. But it was more than that. She wasn’t about to explain it to him, though.

“I guess,” she said.

“Is your offer to set someone’s shoes on fire for me still open?”

“Yes, of course. No one should ever talk to anyone like she did you,” Morgan said with firmness. “It’s not right to belittle someone else or to hurt them, just because you’re angry or upset.”