Spring Rain (2 page)

“That part I haven’t figured out. But … do
you think it’s worth talking to Sam about?”

“I don’t think it matters since the soul
stone is gone,” Beck replied. “Is that why you came by? To tell me
they hadn’t found anything?”

“No. Dad was worried and wants you involved
in the family event for the equinox.”

“I’m not in any shape to deal with
people.”

“I see.” Decker motioned to Beck’s scruffy
features. “You can sleep in a real bed and eat hot food. Grandpa
has cookies.”

The moment he said it, Beck’s stomach
growled.

“That’s what I thought,” Decker said with a
trace of a smile. “Come, Beck. Please. At least for a couple of
days.”

Beck debated. He’d been hiding in the forest
since he lost Morgan under the guise of helping the Light. In
truth, he didn’t feel any more ready to face the world than he had
that agonizing day in December when he saw the SUV she was in sink
to the bottom of the lake.

He had found his counterbalance, the
witchling that was supposed to help him with the Light, then lost
her immediately.

“When is it?” he asked.

“Two days. You can hide out in your room.
You need a break, Beck, and a shower.”

Beck smiled. “All right.”

“Your phone on?”

Beck stretched for the phone he had tucked
in a box. “No. It’s the first day of sunlight in two weeks. The
solar charger is outside.” He motioned to the doorway. “Phone will
be charged in a few hours.”

“I’ll tell Dad.” Decker stood. He seemed
ready to say something else and changed his mind, leaving without
another word.

Beck watched him go. He didn’t want to
ponder on what Decker had said about the fact no other bodies had
been recovered from the lake. There was a part of him that didn’t
think he could ever handle knowing Morgan was truly dead. It was
easier for him, at least for now, to live without closure and the
slim, crazy hope that maybe, by some miracle like the one that
saved Summer, Morgan was still alive.

However stupid it was to think so.

If she is alive, she wants
nothing to do with me
. Their last
interaction almost killed him through no fault of hers when he
touched the soul stone. Only a Fire witchling could touch it
safely. Morgan had saved his life.

Then died alone, scared, tortured by Dawn
and believing he hated her.

She deserved so much better. Her death was
yet another of his failings.

Morgan squeezed the soul stone in her
pocket, automatically directing more of her Fire magick to counter
the rock that was too cold for a normal human or witchling to
touch. Her phone vibrated on the tabletop beside her, and she
glanced at it. The warm, fragrant air of a café, combined with the
gentle murmur of its patrons and the sound of espresso drinks being
created, made her feel almost normal.

He can’t take this much
longer,
read the text.

Almost. Normal.

Any fragile fragment of peace she managed to
eek out of her tedious day vanished. Morgan set down her drink and
picked up the cell she’d been given several months before by the
same person who texted her.

Decker held the magick of three elements,
and in that moment, she could see the impatient Fire element
dominating him. She’d stopped using the credit card he gave her but
not the phone, because …

Because some part of her wanted to be found
by the guy she’d left behind. She’d even saved his contact in the
phone Decker gave her. It used to belong to Summer, and Morgan had
deleted everyone’s contact information except for Decker’s and
Beck’s. She had renamed Beck’s, though, because seeing his name
made her hurt too much.

Whatever was between them was too strong to
be natural. She’d come to this conclusion late one night about four
weeks ago, after she’d spent her tears and lay waiting for sleep to
claim her.

She still missed Beck, and
it didn’t make sense that she should after three months of not
seeing him. She had barely gotten to know him, having spent only a
few precious moments with him and yet, couldn’t let him go like she
wanted to so she could move on. If she were someone else, if her
situation was different... If
she
was different and not charged with safeguarding a
tool of evil, one that could kill the Master of Light …

No matter how bad things were, she wasn’t
able to escape the sense of belonging, the sad instinct that begged
her to return to the Master of Light who somehow branded her
soul.

Morgan typed the response
she always gave Decker.
You know this is
the right thing to do.
Pressing send, she
did her best to convince herself it was true.

He responded
immediately.
You’re Beck’s counterbalance,
like it or not. Why aren’t you trying to help us with the
Light?
He had typed.

“If we ever meet again, Decker, I’ll do more
than set your shoes on fire,” Morgan muttered under her breath.

She didn’t understand fully what a
counterbalance was supposed to do and why he assumed she was one.
True, she couldn’t explain the bond with Beck that wasn’t growing
weaker the way it should be if they had a normal relationship.

Glaring at Decker’s response, she had to
force herself not to send him an angry response. He was the brother
of the man she cared about and had helped her, albeit
reluctantly.

Maybe we could use the
soul stone to capture Bartholomew,
he
texted next.

“That’s it, Decker.” Morgan sent him a
scathing response and tapped send, not caring if she pissed him
off. The stone had been in her family for a thousand years. If it
was meant to be used, it wouldn’t be a secret! And the best – and
only thing – she knew to do to protect Beck and help him with the
Light was to keep as far away as possible.

“Red, you’re up!” called a smiling brunette
from behind the counter.

Red was her nickname, and she’d made up a
name for her employment forms. Irked, Morgan stood and tucked her
phone away before approaching. The barista just leaving her shift
handed over an apron, and Morgan tied it around her waist before
placing her fiery red hair into a ponytail.

Not patient enough for customer service, she
took up her position at the espresso machine and breathed in the
stimulating, rich mix of coffee and milk. It had quickly become her
favorite scent and clung to her when she left her shift every day.
Her hair smelled of espresso no matter how many times she washed
it.

“Hey, Red.” The guy at the drive thru window
called to her. “Someone came by earlier looking for you.”

“One of my customers?” she asked, wiping
down the machine. There were at least fourteen people who came in
periodically and requested her, which was five times as many as any
other barista who worked at the cafe. She suspected her fire magick
added a little more warmth or kick to their drinks, because she
followed the drinks’ preparation instructions exactly.

“No.” He rolled his eyes as he joined
her.

She glanced up, then away quickly. Before
Beck, she never would’ve thought she’d meet another man’s gaze let
alone take a chance on anyone, given her history of abuse at the
hands of her uncle. After Beck, all she could think about was never
letting down her guard again, that the emotional pain caused by
losing him was much worse than the physical pain inflicted by her
uncle.

“Real pretty blonde lady. Looked like a
model. Pregnant.”

Dawn.

Morgan’s hands paused in
her cleanup duty.
It’s not
possible.
As far as she knew, no witchling
could track her. She was neither Light nor Dark but stuck between,
which meant neither Beck nor Decker was able to trace her. Add to
that the fact she had successfully faked her own death, was in a
different state and never wore the cloudy amulet marking her as a
witchling, it seemed impossible for anyone to have discovered where
she was hiding out.

Reminding herself of this, she began working
again.

“Said she’d be back later,” Stu added. “You,
uh …” he lowered his voice and looked around. “… you know. Think
about maybe going out with me this weekend?”

“Nope,” she replied firmly. “As usual.”

“Puh-lease? Even to help me win the pool? I
know I’m your favorite.”

She pinned him with a cold look.

“Okay, so your least un-favorite,” he added
hopefully.

“Nope. Your light’s on.” She motioned to the
flickering red light at the window indicating someone was
waiting.

“I’ll ask again next week,” he said with a
grin.

Stu was a nice guy, attractive and nowhere
near as interesting to her as she was to him. Morgan checked out
the gaggle of three guys near the drive thru. Stu was apparently
reporting back his failure, and the others were laughing.

“I don’t think their pool is funny,” said
Rosy, another coworker. “Very misogynistic to bet on a girl going
out with them.”

“They’re idiots,” Morgan agreed. “I’m here
for the paycheck and nothing else.”

“Out of curiosity, do you swing the other
way?”

Startled, Morgan met Rosy’s gaze. “Um,
no.”

“Just not interested in guys? Or friends? Or
hanging out?”

What is wrong with these
people?
She almost spoke the words out
loud before recalling how different she was from a typical
teenager. Stu, Rosy and the rest of them weren’t worrying about
protecting the world from a piece of pure evil that could easily
destroy them.

They were concerned about … dating. Clothes.
Sports. College.

It was a mentality Morgan
didn’t really understand, but she also knew
she
was the odd one out, not them.
She hadn’t fit in among the witchlings and she didn’t fit in here,
either.

I hate my life,
she thought bitterly.

“Not right now,” she said in as pleasant of
a voice as she could manage. If she’d learned anything working
around humans, it was to be nicer, because they had no freaking
clue. “Did they ask you to ask me?”

“No. Just curious. You’ve worked here for
over two months, and no one knows anything about you.” Rosy
shrugged. “Except that every customer on the planet loves you.” She
rolled her eyes.

“I share my tips,” Morgan said, aware of how
awkward it was sometimes when another barista was on the machine
when one of her regular customers came in.

“We love you for it.” Rosy grinned, her eyes
falling to someone entering the café. “I’m up!” She went to the
cash register.

Morgan’s gaze swept out over the clientele
currently in the café. Even if she didn’t think it likely someone
had found her, she wasn’t able to shake the unease agitating her
fire magick. A spark smacked into the metal machine and fizzled
out, and she blinked, reigning in her magick.

Whoever it was that came looking for her,
she didn’t return during Morgan’s shift. She left at nine o’clock
in the evening, an hour after closing, as she did every day. Decker
had texted twice more, and she walked down the well-lit street
towards the apartment she’d rented and read through his
responses.

Beck is hurting.

She sucked in a breath, her magick sparking
around her while sorrow tore a hole in her.

There has to be another
way.
Lamented the second text.

“I want that, too,” she whispered, stopping
in the middle of the sidewalk. She tucked the phone away and spent
a long moment staring into the night sky over Las Vegas. The trees
lining her walk were budding, and the scent of winter was gone.

Warmed by her fire magick, she didn’t notice
the chill of early spring and instead began reviewing every option
she’d ever dreamt up about how to make it back to Beck.

In the end, it all boiled down to the stark
reality that there was no way. She couldn’t simultaneously protect
him and fulfill her familial obligation of protecting the soul
stone.

She trudged onward to the well-kept, aging
apartment complex not far from her workplace. Morgan tugged the
scrunchie out of her hair, unleashing a puff of espresso, and
climbed the metal stairs to the second floor and her small, but
cozy apartment.

The moment she entered, she froze. It was
all of five hundred square feet – too small for her not to notice
if something was off, even in the dark. She’d taken a large
withdrawal of cash from Decker’s credit card before leaving Idaho
and used it to buy a couch, bed, and small dining table. The rest
was stashed. She had enough for a car, but walking was cheaper. She
had no way of knowing how long she’d be on the lam, so the money
had to last.

Morgan didn’t bother to warn whoever was
trespassing, hunkered down in the corner behind the couch. She
pulled off her fire magick. Her hands burst into orange flames
bright enough to light up the entire apartment and blind whoever
was there – without affecting her. Purple and white flickers in her
fire distracted her briefly.

She peered through the flames at the guy
crouched in the corner.

“Noah?” she asked, surprised. “What’re you
doing here?” She dimmed the flames without releasing them entirely.
Noah was Dawn’s brother and the person she least wanted to run
into. He had helped her before, but she hesitated to welcome him
with open arms, not when she knew he’d once been a lackey of Dawn.
“How did you find me?”

“Doesn’t matter. Dawn’s in town.” He
shielded his eyes against the light.

Her fire flared, and she looked around.

“She’s not in here.”

“And you’re what? Here to take me to
her?”