Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(89)

Beck called his brother. “Hey,” he said breathlessly.

“Where are you?”

“Uh, not sure. South of the lake.” Beck looked around him. The snow had lessened, and he tried to orient himself. “Maybe two miles from the bay.”

“We’re at the bay. Connor’s out of it. The trip across the lake wiped him out.”

“I’ll be there in a few,” Beck said. “Did you learn anything from the lake?”

“No,” Decker’s voice was hushed.

“They left the lake. I don’t get it,” Beck muttered.

“Hurry up. We need food and a plan.”

“On my way.” Beck hung up and paused in the middle of the road, listening. His instincts had given him some guidance this evening. All he needed was a direction.

Dawn wanted Morgan out of the way. Beck no longer believed Dawn was incapable of killing. Why she didn’t do it at the resort, he didn’t know. She had a hefty head start, yet she’d left the resort sometime in the middle of the night and taken Summer and Morgan somewhere else.

Beck thought hard. Dawn was hurting, even if it were the result of a delusion. She thought there was a chance with him or at least, to prevent him from moving on. Morgan had drawn the girl’s ire in the worst way possible, first by calling her out, then by beating up Alexa.

I trust you, Beck.

Morgan’s whisper was soft in his mind. She’d said the words, but when?

A wave of heat washed over him. He closed his eyes, trying to recall whatever it was he’d forgotten that resulted in him waking up at home in bed.

I’m scared.

Beck squeezed his temples. He dropped his hands to his sides with a sigh then dug out his phone. His fingers brushed the small notebook he kept with him to record the visions the earth showed him. His instincts tingled again. He opened it and flipped through it, using his phone as a light source to see the pages.

He stopped at the last entry.

Fire. Soul stone.

Sam’s lesson about the line of witchlings charged with safeguarding the soul stone returned to him.

I trust you, Beck.

Morgan. His breath stuck in his throat.

The memory emerged slowly. It was hazy, filled with heat and cold and the sense of falling. He saw the eerie black stone on Morgan’s dresser and remembered reaching for it. Blackness followed.

Beck lowered the notebook, eyes closing as he focused on his thoughts and memory. The look on Morgan’s face haunted him. Guilt, horror, despair. She knew what it was or at least, what it would do. Capable of eating away at Light, the soul stone had spent three weeks weakening his foundation of magick.

His chest grew tight enough to hurt. He sought some reason why she had the stone at the school in the first place. Was her intention to hurt him? How could it be, when she was the sweetest person he’d ever known?

Beck pulled himself from his emotions. They weren’t going to help him find Morgan. He focused on what he had ascertained about what happened.

Dawn, Alexa and the others left in a hurry and took the three girls with them.

What would make Dawn’s plans change? The discovery of the soul stone, the ultimate tool against Beck. She could destroy the Light with it and therefore, him. She wanted him to suffer, and watching the Light waste away and die was the type of revenge she’d seek out.

Morgan must’ve told her where it was. Dawn was going after it.

Beck searched his thoughts. Was Morgan the latest in a string of bad judgment?

He recalled kissing her, how soft and warm her lips and body were, how passionate she was. Her unruly curls and beautiful eyes, the temper that warmed his blood and the smile that lit up his world.

No. He wasn’t wrong about her. He just didn’t know what she was doing with something so evil.

Beck opened his eyes. If Dawn found the stone, she’d have no further use for Morgan. He pulled out his phone to tell Decker he was headed back to the school. He had placed protective spells around the school; if Dawn didn’t want to trip them, she’d need a Light witchling to retrieve the stone. He wondered if it was Sonya or one of Dawn’s other spies.

There was a text waiting. He didn’t recognize the number and almost skipped it.

Almost.

Beck opened the text and froze. It contained a message and a picture.

How to snuff a fire.

The picture was of Morgan and Summer, lying in a narrow stone crypt. Summer’s head was bloodied. Their eyes were closed, their faces pale and their limbs at awkward angles, as if they were lifeless dolls tossed into a box. The heavy stone lid to the crypt was at the side. It would take three or four guys to lift it. Once sealed, there was no way the two girls could escape without help.

Beck couldn’t think or move. He simply stared, unable to believe what was in front of him. His shock wore off as fast as it came, leaving him reeling with urgency.

He broke into a sprint, heart tumbling with horror. He dialed his brother.

“Cemetery!” he said into the phone then hung up.

Decker was closer to the tiny cemetery. Beck slipped on ice and smashed to his knees. With a curse, he shoved himself up and ran again.





Chapter Twenty-Four


The black SUV passed her. It got stuck twice in the deep snow, buying her some time. Biji quickened her pace. The closer it got to the cemetery, the more afraid she became. It stopped, its red taillights glowing through the fog of exhaust. The sound of car doors closing were loud to her heightened senses.