Burned (Keeper of the Flame) Page 3

  “Is that what you think you saw?”

  I angle in the seat to face him. His profile is serious. “I saw sharp teeth. I didn’t study the markings or anything. I was mostly trying to stay alive.”

  He smiles. “Probably a good call on your part.”

  “Still not answering my question.”

  “There have been a few wolf sightings in Shadow Hill. That might be what you saw.”

  I leave out the fact the wolf was in the house and I have no idea how it got in.

  Logan points again. “There. Shadow Hill Hotel.”

  It looks like a mansion from a tragic love story. Or maybe a ghost story. What I can see of it is old, stately, almost dark. It’s surrounded by trees and backs up to the mountain.

  “There’s a burial ground not too far from the main building. The Hill family buried their own there, but there are some unmarked graves no one knows where they came from.”

  Logan downshifts, turns us onto the road to the hotel and smiles at me before his eyes do a slow scan of my bare legs. “Did I mention how much I like that dress?”

  I laugh. “Once or twice.”

  He parks in a lot on the side of the hotel and comes to my side to open the door. He takes my hand to help me out, and I wonder what kind of family he has. How someone in their early twenties has developed so much charm and such good manners.

  Until he closes the door.

  Then he reaches on either side of me to prop his hands on the roof, boxing me in. His thighs brush mine.

  “Willow,” he whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

  I swallow, heat igniting in my stomach. I was prepared to avoid advances, but it’s different when he flat out asks me. And waits for my answer to make sure it’s okay.

  “That might not be in your best interest,” I whisper.

  He traces one hand down my side and stops at my thigh. “Are you married?”

  I laugh. “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  “No.”

  “Just getting out of a relationship?”

  I sigh. “No, but it’s complicated.”

  “Meaning you’re not attracted to me.”

  My throat dries. “I’m insanely attracted to you.”

  His hand curls around the back of my neck, drawing me in. His mouth collides with mine, sparking heat and desire. My hands fist in his jacket when his tongue brushes my lower lip. My breath rushes out in a half-moan.

  “This isn’t good,” I say against his mouth. The flames start to flicker inside, but I can’t seem to stop.

  His other hand traces my spine, all the way down before he squeezes my hip. “This isn’t good?” he asks with a laugh, lips brushing mine.

  “No, I mean‒this. This,” I say, pointing between him and I. I ease back, making the fire subside.

  His dark eyes find mine. “Your heart is racing.”

  It is. Thumping against my ribs like it’s trapped. I press my hand against his chest. “I’m not the only one.”

  He closes his hand over mine, holding it there. “It was just a kiss. No harm done.”

  Tell that to my heart. I try to break his gaze, but I can’t.

  “There’s time, right?” he asks. His voice lowers. “Because you’re staying for a while, like you said.”

  I swallow, moistening my throat, speaking as though the words aren’t my own. “I’m staying for a while.”

  He flashes a smile and backs up. “Great. Then let’s go in.”

  He takes my hand, being gentle with the scratches, and walks us to the building. Enormous stone columns decorate the front. I can see people milling inside through the huge windows. A few couples sit on the porch out front, holding cocktails and talking.

  We enter the wide double doors to the sound of piano music. Someone is playing in the corner near a fireplace that’s lit despite the warmth outside. A wide staircase sits across from the door and it rises up in both directions to connect to a balcony at the top.

  “Fancy,” I murmur.

  “You should see the suites upstairs.”

  I glance over, a smile on my lips. “You stay here a lot?”

  “I’ve visited a few times. My family lived here‒in Shadow Hill‒when I was younger. Part of the reason I moved back.”

  “That’s part of the reason I’m here, too,” I say. “My mom lives here.”

  He pauses at the base of the stairs. “Really? So it’s not just research.”

  I shrug. “That’s all it might be if she doesn’t come back. I guess she’s out of town for a while.”

  “You guess?”

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t actually…seen her in a long time. She probably doesn’t even know I’m here. And I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

  “Who’s your mom?” He smiles when I lift my eyebrows. “It’s a small town. People talk. If anyone has heard anything, they might be able to tell you.”

  “Faye Donnelly.”

  He thinks a minute and then shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t know her. But if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks.”

  He entwines his fingers with mine and brings the back of my hand to his lips. “Let’s explore.”

  He guides us to a hallway and the noise around us fades out.

  “Are we allowed to walk around like this?” I ask.

  “Sure. This is a big place for the tourists with the history and all. The founding family was discovered murdered here and their ghosts are still hanging out.”

  The lights are dim and we stroll past a few rooms with numbers scrolled next to the doors. The carpet is quiet under our feet and I feel a draft from somewhere.

  I shiver and Logan puts his arm around me. “Cold?”

  “Just a draft.”

  He pauses and glances around, looking mischievous. “I hear there are secret passages all over this place. Supposedly the founding family was made up of witches.”

  My gaze whips to his. “Witches?”

  He leans his shoulder against the wood paneling on the wall. “Is that something that might be interesting for your research?”

  “Definitely.” I lean against the wall as well, and then straighten when I feel another draft right by my shoulder.

  “What is it?”

  I peer closer at the wall, looking for gaps or holes. “I felt cold air.”

  Logan presses both hands against the wall, leaning in. “Secret passage,” he says, grinning at me.

  I lean in as well.

  Willow…

  My breath catches. I turn around, scanning the hallway. “Did you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “A voice.”

  He frowns. “No.”

  I step close to the wall again and the sound of whispering fills my ears. Willow, we need your help…

  Pressing my ear against the wall, I hold my breath and listen.

  Willow…

  The wall shifts. I gasp, stumbling back. Logan catches my arm and pulls me next to him.

  “You’re right,” I whisper. “There’s something behind the wall.”

  Logan glances both ways down the hall, gives a shrug. “Let’s check it out.”

  I’m ready to protest, but I’m as curious as he is. He presses his hands against the wall again and pushes. The panel moves and darkness yawns before us.

  He leans in as I feel a breath of cool air brush my cheeks. I try to peer in next to him, but it’s so dark I can’t see beyond a few feet.

  “I can’t see anything,” he says.

  Logan starts digging in his pocket, probably for a lighter, and I duck my head into the passageway again.

  Willow…

  I swallow, feeling drawn to the darkness. The voice calls again. Willow…

  I sway, my body moving into the yawning hole. It’s like a gust of wind pushes me inside, and I stumble, going down on one knee.

  And then the panel closes behind me with a final thud.

  Chapter 5

  My breath shudders ou
t in the darkness and I get to my feet, trying to find the wall with my hand.

  “Willow!” Logan’s voice is muted on the other side of the wall, his fists hitting the panel repeatedly. “Are you okay?”

  The whispers return.

  Willow…

  I whip around, my eyes racing back and forth without being able to see anything. There’s only a sliver of light where the panel separates from the wall.

  Willow…Keeper of the Flame…

  The flame? My chest heaves with sharp breaths. “Who’s there?”

  Family.

  The voice continues to whisper, echoing in the dark space.

  “Willow?” Logan calls again.

  I turn to the panel, pressing my palms flat against it. “Logan?”

  “Willow, I can’t‒I’m trying to get this open and I can’t figure it out. Push from your side.”

  I push against the panel, shoving it first, and then pounding with the heels of my hands.

  “Logan!” When I hear the whispering again and something like cold breath touches my neck, I start yelling. “Open the panel! Get me out of here!”

  “I’m trying.” I hear a shuffle and then he says, “I’m going to get something to pry it open.”

  My hands are already sore from the scrapes this afternoon, but I’m afraid to stop banging. The voice whispers behind me again, and I’m worried something’s going to brush my bare leg or grab me.

  Willow. He’s not who you think he is.

  I squeeze my hands into fists, trying to stand up to the faceless voice. “Who?”

  Find yourself, and don’t trust him.

  “Him who?” I ask, putting strength into my voice.

  There’s the sound of something wedging into the panel behind me. I hear Logan curse and something falls on the ground. I push the panel and this time it pops open easily.

  When I stumble out, Logan catches my shoulders. “What the hell was that? Are you okay?”

  “I don’t‒I don’t know. I heard whispering.” I glance back to the panel. “Like someone was in there.”

  He cups my cheeks between his hands. “Willow. Focus. Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  His eyes are black in the dim lighting, locked onto mine. “What did you hear? You said you thought someone was in there.”

  “I…” The words from the whisper come back to me, Don’t trust him.

  But it can’t be Logan who I shouldn’t trust. Maybe it’s Ryan because he wants me to leave. And he stole my mother’s Book of Shadows, which I need more than ever now since I’m apparently communicating with ghosts.

  There were other words before that, though. He’s not who you think he is.

  “Come on,” Logan says. He closes the panel, and I’m surprised no one has come by to see us. “Let’s get out of here.”

  When we near the lobby again, it’s brighter and there are people everywhere. I’m still shivering from the cold inside the wall, and my palms are stinging.

  “I think I want to go,” I tell Logan.

  He glances to the dining room entrance, looking torn. “You’re not hungry?”

  I shake my head.

  “You need a drink.” He flashes a smile and caresses my shoulder with one hand. “And something to warm you up.”

  That gets a chuckle from me. “Are you volunteering?”

  “I’m at your service.”

  And it’s pretty tempting. I can tell he’s disappointed we’re not staying for dinner. His jaw is set, and though his eyes are soft, he’s hesitating.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “Really?”

  “I think I just need a hot shower and a warm bed,” I tell him, turning to the exit.

  He clasps my hand in his. “I can definitely help with that.”

  “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But I meant back at my room.”

  We walk to his car again, and the air is still warm, making me feel better. Making me look at the whispers and what just happened from a logical point of view.

  “I think I need to come back,” I say.

  He lifts his eyebrows and opens my door for me. “Yeah? That fast, huh?”

  I smile. “Not tonight. But soon. There’s clearly something there.”

  “Are you going to tell me what?”

  “Ghosts?” I bite my lip, leaning against the side of the car. “Something trying to speak to me.”

  His jaw shifts.

  “You can call me crazy and take me home if you want.”

  His gaze connects with mine again. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I believe you. What were the ghosts trying to say?”

  I debate what to tell him. I don’t understand most of it anyway. “They told me to find myself.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I can guess. And that guess would be that I think they want me to discover my witch roots. But I can’t tell Logan that. He’s already had to deal with me running from the library like a mad woman and communing with the dead. Oh yeah, and my awkward fainting episode in the bar.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him.

  He holds my gaze for a long moment, and then opens the door wider. I get in, wondering what he’s thinking. But instead of telling me, he starts the car and drives us from the hotel. He’s quiet on the way back until we reach my motel.

  When I get out, he walks with me.

  “I can make it to my room fine,” I say.

  He pockets his hands. “I’ll walk you.”

  “Trying to prolong the date a little more?”

  “Something like that.”

  At my door, he rocks on his heels at the precipice. “I’d feel better staying with you a while. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

  I lean against the door frame with a smile. “Ghost hunting is in the job description.”

  “But is encountering them part of that job, too? Because that sure as hell looked like what happened tonight. I couldn’t get that panel open. It moved so easily for you and then in an instant, you were trapped. And now you want to go back.”

  “Tenacity is a good trait in my field.”

  He shakes his head. “I didn’t like it.”

  I reach out, pressing my palm against his cheek. “That’s nice of you to be concerned.”

  Logan grips my wrist, heat flashing in his gaze. He leans in, just a breath away from kissing me. His eyes find mine, black holes I’m already drowning in. “You sure you don’t want me to come in?”

  Yes. The word is on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t get it out. I do want him to come in. So bad I ache.

  His free hand slides down to my waist, pulling me closer. “Just a few minutes,” he whispers.

  The room phone rings, and I break away. I give a short laugh. “Sorry, I have to get this.”

  I don’t know who’d be calling me on the room phone, but I answer it anyway. I see Logan fold his arms, still waiting outside the door.

  “Hello?” No one answers. “Hello?”

  I hear a click on the other end.

  “Wrong number?” Logan asks.

  I replace the phone and walk to the door again. I blow out a breath and take off my heels. “I guess. I think I’m going to take that shower I talked about. Wind down.”

  He drops his chin, then nods. “Sure.”

  “Thanks for this evening. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  Logan steps away from the door. “I get it. We should try again another time.”

  “We should.”

  Leaning outside the door, I peer up into the dimming sky and find the moon. “It’ll be full in two days.”

  He follows my gaze. A smile curves his lips. “You follow the phases of the moon?”

  “Sometimes. There’s a lot about me that doesn’t fit your typical mold.”

  “I’ve noticed. Which is why I think I should take my time to get to know you.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  Logan strolls towar
d me again, several inches taller now that I’ve lost my shoes. “It doesn’t stop me from wanting to get to know you faster.”

  He hauls me against him, capturing my mouth. I rise to the tips of my toes to wrap my arms around his neck. I run my fingers through his hair and arch my back when he trails kisses along my jaw. His breath is hot and it lingers at the hollow of my throat.

  His fingers dig into my hips, reaching down to curl under the short hem of my dress. I fumble to catch his hand.

  It feels too much like the last time. And the last time things hadn’t ended well for either of us.

  “Logan,” I breathe.

  His arms vice around me, our bodies flush against each other. He makes a noise low in his throat. “I’m pretending I can’t hear you.”

  I laugh and give his chest a gentle shove. When he eases back, I point a finger at him. “You just…” I catch my breath. “You better keep your distance if that’s what’s going to happen every time I’m around you.”

  “That’s no fun,” he says, reaching for me again.

  I swat his hand. “There’s a time and place for fun.”

  He backs up. “Okay, you’re right. A time and place. Not outside your motel room. Not standing by my car outside a haunted hotel.”

  “Right.”

  “Got it.”

  “You sure?” I ask.

  He nods, folding his hands behind his back. “You’re interesting, Willow.”

  “You’re interesting, too. And still not leaving.”

  He laughs and starts walking. “All right. I’m going. Sleep well.”

  I close the door once he disappears down the stairs and slump against the other side. Sleep well? Not likely.

  Last time I’d been kissed, we’d been in a college dorm room and a thousand “no’s” hadn’t made him stop. I’d done the only thing I could, lashed out with fire. It had been instinct, really, because I had no idea what I was doing.

  One minute he was on top of me and the next his arms were on fire.

  I can’t control it, it controls me. I was hoping my mother could help, but now I have no idea where she is and only one source for answers.

  Ryan.

  ~ ~ ~

  I plan on marching right up to his door, banging on it until he opens up, and demanding answers. But when I pull into his drive, his truck isn’t there. The windows are dim and the porch light isn’t on.