Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(60)
He opened the door enough to see who was there. Connor was pacing in the hallway. Morgan’s brother appeared surprised to see him.
“Is she here?” he asked anxiously.
“Yeah,” Beck replied.
“My father is coming. Does she know?”
Beck nodded. “She’s a little upset.”
Connor studied him.
“Leave me alone, Connor!” Morgan snapped and whipped the door open. She stepped in front of Beck, hands on her hips.
“If you told me where you were last night, I –“
“You couldn’t make something up to keep her from blaming me?”
“Okay,” Beck said calmly. He rested a hand at the small of Morgan’s back. “What’s done is done. We need to figure out how to handle it.”
“It’s simple. I’m leaving,” Morgan said stubbornly.
“No, you’re not,” Beck replied.
She twisted to look up at him, her direct challenge stirring his desire.
“No,” he said again and touched her hair.
“Then what do I do?” she replied, eyes sparking.
“You get pissed at me, and I kiss you. Seems to work, doesn’t it?” he teased.
“What?” Connor snapped.
“Don’t you start, Connor!” Morgan whirled. “I can date who I want, and I want to date him!”
“I know where you can stay, Morgan,” Beck said before Connor could be drawn into another fight. “I promised to take care of you. Whatever it takes.”
Morgan’s gaze returned to him. She was guarded – yet hopeful. He wasn’t about to let her down.
“Finish packing, and I’ll take you,” he said.
After a long moment, she listened to him and left the doorway.
“Connor, you’re going to have to trust me.” Beck lowered his voice.
“She’ll be safe?”
“I promise. I’m taking her to my parents’ cabin. It’s not far up the road. Please don’t tell anyone else.”
“I’ll check up on her,” Connor said firmly.
“Totally fine.”
“Beck, she’s wild.”
“I know.” I love that about her.
Her brother hesitated then nodded. With visible reluctance, he walked away. Beck closed the door. Morgan was finishing up packing. He watched her before his gaze settled again on the rock on her dresser.
Fire. Soul stone.
He recalled where he saw it: in the vision the earth showed him. The earth had acted alarmed when it showed him, as if the rock was to be feared, and Sam said it was concentrated Darkness. From across the room, Beck felt the Darkness clinging to the stone, just as he felt it around his twin. It was cold.
Dangerous.
Only fire witchlings can repel the coldness of the Dark.
He moved towards the dresser. “Morgan, where did you get this?” he asked.
“What?” she called from the bathroom, where she was tossing what sounded like shampoo bottles into a bag.
Beck gazed at the rock. He didn’t like it. The Light in him wanted it gone. He looked down suddenly, a second vision returning to his thoughts. The earth had showed him the core of Light being eaten away from its center. He had gone to the basement without seeing anything.
He never thought to look up. Morgan’s room was directly over the spot the earth showed him. As usual, the magick communicated in a way that wasn’t clear until he realized the truth.
A line of fire witchlings was entrusted with the soul stone.
Morgan.
Beck felt cold. He’d trusted Dawn, too, before she turned out to be a crazy kidnapping killer. Had he made the same mistake with Morgan?
Why did she have this … thing that was capable of destroying Light? Capable of destroying him?
“I didn’t hear you,” she said, emerging from the bathroom. “What did you …” She stopped.
Beck looked at her. Her attention flew from the rock to him.
“Why do you have this?” he asked in a low, calm voice.
Guilt then panic crossed her features. Beck reached for it.
“No, Beck!” she cried, reaching to stop him.
He picked it up. Ice flew through him. It froze his magick and chilled its warmth. He almost felt his blood slow. The sensations within him were too fast for him to counter.
Beck staggered. Morgan tried to catch him, and they both dropped to the ground. Her fire tore through him, preventing the Darkness of the rock from stopping his heart. In the distance, she was calling his name, her tears like drops of lava on his face.
Blackness swept through his mind.
Chapter Fifteen
“Beck!” Morgan cried. She hadn’t been able to keep him from falling, but she at least kept him from hitting the ground hard. Unconscious, he was pale, his eyes closed. “Wake up. Please, wake up!” Tears fell from her eyes to his face.
She felt his earth magick fade almost to a trickle and his body grow cold. She shoved her fire into him. The coldness retreated. Color returned to Beck’s face.
“Please wake up,” she whispered.
The room was chilly. Her eyes went to the rock. It had fallen from Beck’s hand and lay a few feet away. He didn’t awaken or move, aside from the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.