Spring Rain (3 page)

“No, Morgan. Can you please turn that off?”
he complained.

“Tell me why you’re here!”

“To warn you!” he snapped. “Look, I figured
out where you were months ago. I’ve been watching, making sure she
doesn’t get close again.”

Morgan listened. Noah may have once been his
sister’s obedient lackey, but he had also saved her life. She
extinguished her flames and flipped the light on. Noah emerged from
the corner cautiously. The brooding teen resembled his supermodel
mother with his medium length blond hair and blue-grey eyes set in
chiseled features. He wore jeans and a leather jacket.

“You followed me,” Morgan crossed her arms.
“Explain that.”

“It wasn’t hard. There was a lot of snow
around the lake. It showed me where you went. I destroyed the path
so no one else could follow,” he replied with a shrug. As a water
element, he was able to communicate with, and create, all sorts of
weather.

She frowned and tossed her keys and purse on
the couch. She had fled Priest Lake, where the witchlings’ boarding
school was located, south to Priest River on foot before hiring a
taxi to take her farther south. In hindsight, she probably
should’ve made sure no one was following her, but she panicked
after the events at the lake.

Besides, when she made it to the border of
Idaho and Nevada, she’d grown cautious and ensured no one followed
her south. At least, she thought she’d been careful.

“Did anyone else follow you?” she asked.

“Not that I saw.”

“Did you get an apartment next door or
something?” she asked, a little unnerved someone had been watching
her for three months.

“Here?” he snorted. “No.”

She rolled her eyes. Like pretty much
everyone else at the exclusive boarding school, including the
Turner twins, Noah was wealthy, or had been. There were rumors
she’d heard before leaving that his family’s business was headed
for bankruptcy.

“
I’ve been close,
though.”

“Anyway, your sister found you first and
then me?” she asked.

“No. I didn’t tell my family where I was
going.” A troubled look crossed his features. “Just left. Like you
did to your brother.”

The other reason Morgan hurt: her own
brother thought she was dead. She didn’t want to know the kind of
suffering Connor had gone through. “Okay. So you came to warn me,”
she said. “She’s close? She knows where I am?”

“She’s in town, and I’m pretty sure she
knows where you work. You might not want to go back.”

Morgan crossed to the tiny kitchen and
grabbed a chilled bottle of water out of the fridge. Deep in
thought, she considered where to go next. “How did she find
me?”

“I don’t know.”

One of her hands instinctively checked the
pocket with the soul stone. It was still present, as cold and
energy sapping as ever. Was it capable of calling out to someone
like Dawn? Someone possessed by a powerful, Dark soul?

Or had Morgan not been careful enough?

“Have you thought about going back?” Noah
asked quietly.

“Every day.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because I can’t, Noah. It’s too
dangerous.”

By the look of desolation that crossed his
features, he was feeling the loneliness she did. He, too, had
walked away from his friends and family, though his reasons were
very different. He was guilty for all his sister had done to hurt
people. Morgan suspected watching over her was one way he was
trying to make up for all the wrong he’d ignored.

“Go home,” she said. “Ask Biji out. Live
your life.”

“Biji …” he trailed off and shook his head.
“She’s too good for me. I didn’t question what Dawn did, and it
nearly got you all killed. I owe you to help. Somehow.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Noah,” she told
him. “If you want to do me a favor, go live the life I can’t.”

“We can both go back,” he pressed. “Beck
will protect you from Dawn.”

“No, he can’t,” she replied firmly. “Me
being near him puts him in danger more than anyone.”

“How can the Master of Light – and Decker –
not help you?” he demanded with some frustration.

Because of this.
She squeezed the stone in her hand without
answering him. “Go, Noah. I don’t need help, and I don’t need you
destroying your life for me.”

He met her gaze, his stormy. “I have to make
amends.”

“Fine. But leave me alone.”

She said nothing more. As if realizing she
was serious, Noah left.

Morgan locked the door behind him, feeling
sorry for the conflicted teen. She leaned her forehead against the
cool door.

Beck will protect you.

“No one can do that,” she murmured. She
didn’t know what it’d take to keep the stone out of Dawn’s hands
forever or even if it was possible, but it meant she was on the
run, potentially for the rest of her life.

Morgan gazed regretfully at the furniture in
the apartment. A life of poverty and abuse had made her feel
excessively proud when she purchased the secondhand pieces. She’d
never had anything that was really hers, and the apartment was a
first in many areas. She could take only what she could carry,
which meant the pretty sweaters she’d bought for winter had to stay
along with the couch and dining table.

She didn’t try to restrain her fire magick.
Her distress stoked it to life, and her skin glowed with tiny
flames that warmed the air around her. Morgan went to the bedroom
and opened the bottom drawer of a lopsided dresser, where she kept
the cash and an emergency pack for an occasion such as this, when
she’d been found. She double checked everything and set it out at
the bottom of her bed. Tucking her favorite jeans and two sweaters
into the backpack, she made her dinner and prepared to sleep in her
bed for one of her last nights there. She’d take a couple of days
to plan then bolt over the weekend.

The tears didn’t come this night. She’d been
crying less lately, though she felt worse today than usual. Seeing
Noah, a physical reminder of her time in the boarding school, of
Beck and the others, left her raw and her magick spinning off into
sizzling sparks.

What hurt most: wondering if there was a way
to be with Beck again, but she couldn’t risk returning to Priest
Lake to figure it out.

Dawn tossed and turned in bed, unable to
find a comfortable position. Eight months pregnant, she was a
little less miserable lying down, but it wasn’t much of a
difference. Frustrated, she sat up and flipped on the light on her
nightstand.

“I can’t stand this!” she muttered and got
up to go to the bathroom for the umpteenth time this night.

When she returned, she went to the window
overlooking The Strip. The lights of Las Vegas were bright and
cheerful, and people still walked the sidewalks. Her luxurious
suite had been paid for by her latest victim, a wealthy businessman
Bartholomew helped her track and exploit before killing. His credit
card paid for her room for another three months, and she lived well
at the casino. The amount of people moving in and out of the casino
also helped hide her Dark witchlings and the humans she’d
conscripted into finding one single fire witchling.

Three months after being forced into hiding,
she’d found the person she loathed more than she did Beck: his
counterbalance, Morgan. Or at least, the city where Morgan was
hiding out and the café where she worked.

We’ll have it soon,
Bartholomew assured her.

“I know.” She no longer cared who heard her
speak to the Dark soul sharing her body. “I want this baby out.”
She rubbed her stomach, her lower back aching whenever she stood.
She was pale and sickly looking, which made her even angrier with
the child growing inside her. She had hoped to land a modeling gig
before she started showing, but had no luck. Not a day went by that
she didn’t think about how it was Beck’s baby, how he had done this
to her – stripped away her life when he knocked her up then walked
away. Not a day passed that she didn’t consider how amazing it was
going to feel when she finally got her revenge.

I can make the pain
stop,
Bartholomew said.

Dawn didn’t acknowledge him for a long
moment. The more miserable her third trimester became, the more she
considered the offer. But it meant potentially putting her baby at
risk if she did what he wanted, and the baby was the key to making
Beck suffer for the rest of his life.

There were moments she was too angry to care
and others when she recalled that the best revenge against Beck and
the rest of the Light witchlings was to have the baby and hide, to
raise the child of the Master of Light in Darkness.

She started away from the window and smacked
her shin into a coffee table she couldn’t see over the bump of her
belly. Cursing, Dawn sat with some difficulty.

“Tell me again what that means,” she said
and contorted her body to see her shin. It was bleeding and would
definitely be bruised in the morning. She wasn’t able to reach it
to put a band-aid on though.

It means you go to sleep. I take over. I
bear the pain.

“And my baby?” Uneasiness swept through her.
No matter how angry she was at Beck or her condition, her child was
a different matter.

No harm comes to her.

“But …” She always sensed there was more
that Bartholomew didn’t say.

No harm comes to her.

“No. Again.” She settled back. “The first
plan is best. We grab the soul stone. You get what you want, and I
get to make Beck’s life miserable forever.”

Except you’re defenseless without me. Decker
will find you once I’m gone.

She’d thought of this endlessly. It didn’t
seem bearable to spend her life with Bartholomew in her head and a
child to take care of. She also didn’t want to be killed in the
hospital by the Master of Dark after she gave birth. Decker had
promised as much, and she didn’t think Beck was going to stop him
when it came down to it.

I swear. No harm comes to your baby.

The offer was starting to sound good,
especially since she hadn’t slept a full night through in over a
month.

“Dawn.” Someone tapped on her door.

She struggled to her feet and grabbed a
robe, irritated when it didn’t close around her belly. Whipping
open the door, Dawn met the gaze of one of the witchlings who
accompanied her on her hunt for Morgan. Troy was a tall Dark fire
witchling, the only other fire witchling she knew aside from Morgan
and Decker. “What, Troy?”

“We didn’t find her, but we found Noah.”

She frowned. “What’s my brother doing in
town?”

“I’d say looking for Morgan, too.”

He betrayed you,
Bartholomew reminded her.

She shook her head. Enough time had passed
that she had reconsidered what Noah did in December and assumed he
was probably sorry. After all, he’d always been her sweet little
brother. He’d never purposely betray or hurt her.

But he did.
Bartholomew never forgave or forgot. It had
become clear he didn’t care about her relationship to Noah or the
fact that blood ran deeper than anything else. She was willing to
hear her brother’s apology out and welcome him home.

He will destroy you. You cannot trust
anyone, least of all him.

“Stop it,” she growled at Bartholomew.
Turning her attention to Troy, she spoke. “Where was he? What was
he doing?”

“He was at the coffee shop where Morgan
works. We lost him when he left.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Dawn contemplated how to handle her brother
being in town. “It doesn’t matter,” she decided. “Go back to the
coffee shop. She’s gotta be within walking distance. Don’t come
back until you find her.” She whirled and retreated into her
room.

“What about Noah?”

“What about him?”

Kill him. He will turn you over to
Decker.

She gritted her teeth,
tired of the constant chatter. “We will
not
kill him!” she
snapped.

“Okay,” Troy replied.

It’s a mistake, Dawn. You made it with him
once. Let me handle him.

“If he becomes an issue again, you can,” she
growled. “Right now, I need some sleep!” She slammed the door on a
frowning Troy.

The moment she lay down again, the baby
began kicking.

I can take all this
away,
Bartholomew reminded her.
Just say the words.

Dawn said nothing this time, on the verge of
tears. She needed a break and some real rest, along with a certain
soul stone to appease Bartholomew and destroy Beck. The thought of
turning over her body until the baby was born sounded incredibly
enticing.

But the small part of her that feared for
her child didn’t trust anyone, even Bartholomew, to protect
her.

“I’ll think about it,” she said. “We have a
backup plan anyway.”

Morgan’s brother.

“Exactly. If we can’t take the stone, we’ll
flush her out by torturing her brother.”

It is a good
plan
.

“About time you acknowledged it,” she
replied acidly. “We don’t always have to do things your way!”

Conviction, Dawn. If you take Connor, you
must kill him. It’s the only way to break Morgan’s will.

“We’ll see. If we can find her here in Vegas
and use her against Beck …” Her Dark air magick swept around the
room. She relished the thought of having Morgan pleading at her
feet and slicing the witchling up in front of Beck. Morgan, too,
had taken any chance she had with Beck away. But maybe, if the fire
witchling were out of the picture completely, Beck would have a
reason to return to Dawn.

Kill Morgan. She’s too
dangerous for what you plan. You must stop this delusion,
Bartholomew said, not for the first time.
You cannot be with Beck. Ever. Only his
counterbalance –