Burned (Keeper of the Flame) Page 7

I hear the sound of footsteps outside the door and freeze. I wait for Logan to come in, but the footsteps start again and move away. Taking a quick breath, I grab the Book of Shadows and tuck it close to my chest. Then I creep to the door and twist the handle quietly.

  It squeaks when it opens and I wince, waiting for Logan to come running. But nothing happens. My heart races in my chest, but I make myself step out. I’m only a hallway from the front door. From freedom.

  I swallow and take measured steps in that direction, grateful I wore sneakers today.

  When the door is in view, I make myself go slow in case Logan appears. My hand closes over the handle. I twist and pull, but nothing happens. I pull it again, but the door doesn’t budge. I fiddle with the locks but can’t seem to make anything work. Frantic, I yank harder, nearly dropping the book.

  “It’s bolted from the outside,” Logan says, voice close to my ear.

  I whip around with a startled gasp. Clutching the book to my chest, I say, “I’ll talk to you about your spell. I promise. Just let me go.”

  His dark eyes hold danger, his hands fisted at his sides. “I thought we already discussed this. I’ve been waiting a long time to get the original four families in town at the same time during a full moon. And you’re the Keeper of the Flame. I cannot let you go. It would behoove you to cooperate.”

  “I am‒”

  “Come on,” he says, curling his hand around my arm.

  “No, Logan.” I can’t leave the door, I won’t get shut in somewhere I can’t get out of. I squirm, but his grip is too strong. “Stop. Please.”

  “Willow, stop making this difficult.”

  With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rip my arm from him and swing the book at his head. He deflects it with his forearm, knocking it to the floor. Then he stoops down, grabs me around my thighs and hauls me over his shoulder.

  “No! Logan!” I pound my fists against his back. “Put me down.”

  “I thought you’d understand, but it looks like we’re going to have to do one thing at a time.”

  He hikes up the stairs. He doesn’t even get winded, just keeps going down the hall, past a few rooms he pointed out earlier and carries me into the same bedroom I woke in. He drops me on the bed, and before I can even start to get back up, he whips around.

  “Willow, I need you calm down. Or else we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”

  I glare at him, sliding to the edge of the bed. “You mean kidnapping me was the easy way?”

  He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. “I’d appreciate your smart ass comments more if you were working with me instead of against me.”

  “I’ll work with you if you let me go.”

  “Liar.”

  “Logan, come on‒”

  “I don’t have time for this.” He turns on his heel and walks out of the room, shutting the door before I can run to it. I hear a lock slide into place.

  “Logan!” I bang my fists against the wood.

  His footsteps move away from the door and I put my forehead to the surface. Now I don’t even have my mother’s book. I’m prepared to look for a weapon when I hear Logan’s footsteps return.

  I step from the door when the lock clicks. He walks in, a syringe in hand. “Now, be good and sit down.”

  “What the hell is that?” And where’s a weapon when I need one?

  “Something to help you calm down.” He moves toward me. “I need to get to town for a bit, and I can’t have you plotting your escape while I’m away. Besides that, you need to rest. Get some sleep tonight and then we can get to work on the spell tomorrow.”

  I hold up a hand to ward him off. “I’ll get some rest. I promise. You don’t need to do anything.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Maybe because I just swung a book at his head. Maybe because I kneed him in the balls back at the car. But still, he’s a vampire felon‒it was justified.

  “Sit down,” he says.

  “Logan.”

  “Willow, stop trying to negotiate with me. You’ll feel better after this is done and we can get on with things.”

  My heart bangs against my chest when he advances on me, taking my arm and trying to get me to sit on the bed. I swing at the syringe, but he catches my wrist. He moves too fast for me to stop him, pinning my arms above my head with a steel grip, and pressing his legs against mine.

  “Just one minute.” He poises the needle over my arm. “Don’t tense up, it’ll hurt more.”

  “Logan,” I choke out. “Please, I don’t even know what’s going on.”

  Something about my words or in my voice makes him pause. A muscle works in his jaw before he says, “About what?”

  “The full moon. Why I have to be here, in Shadow Hill.”

  He doesn’t loosen his grip, but he does let the syringe hang by his side. “I figured as much. Your mom thought she was keeping you safe, but really she was just letting you sit in the dark. There’s a lot you need to know, Willow, and there will be time to learn it all.”

  “Then tell me,” I say, unable to stop my gaze from straying to the needle.

  “Soon enough.” He lifts the needle again. “Maybe you should close your eyes or look away or something.”

  “No, Logan‒”

  The metal touches my arm.

  Then flames erupt. His sleeve is on fire and he straightens, jerking his arm back and forth. He growls something I can’t make out, jabs me with the needle and then releases me.

  I scoot back on the bed as he tries to put the flames out. I’m so surprised I’d conjured the fire, I forget for a minute I should be running.

  I slide off the bed and my knees give out. Clutching the bedpost for support, my gaze is drawn by the blur of flame as Logan pats his arm. My feet don’t want to move, but I force them to take steps to the door. The room swims around me and I sway. The door feels like it’s miles away.

  “Willow,” Logan says. He’s in front of me now, surprisingly unharmed. His eyes are like midnight and his jaw is tight. “That was impressive but useless. Save your power for later.”

  My mouth won’t form the words I want it to. Screw off. That’s what I want to say. But my body goes boneless and I start to fall.

  Logan catches me smoothly as the corners of my vision get hazy. He lifts me easily and carries me to the bed again. When he sets me down, he reaches to my feet. He’s gentle when he takes off my shoes and pulls the covers over me.

  As I drift into unconsciousness, I hear him say, “See you tomorrow.”

  ~ ~ ~

  When I wake again, the room is alight from the sun. I squint and then blink a few times while the room comes into focus. It’s morning.

  Which means I slept the whole night. Today is Sunday.

  And tonight is the full moon.

  This realization is enough to get me to my feet. I steady myself with the bedpost before walking to the bathroom and splashing water on my face. When I look at my reflection, I see hair tumbling wildly in thick waves, reaching halfway down my back. There are a few scratches on my cheeks from racing through the woods and being attacked by branches. And there’s a bruise on my arm from the needle.

  When I get out of here, Logan is going down.

  I turn from the mirror. Now I have to figure out how to get out of here.

  I check the door just in case but find it’s still locked. I listen for several moments, but don’t hear anything outside or downstairs. Either Logan isn’t home or he’s being his usual stealthy self.

  Blowing out a breath, I sit at the chaise lounge near the window, searching my brain for something‒anything‒to help. The book isn’t up here. But…

  I remember the last thing I read in it. A spell to contact someone. I fumble in my pocket and pull out the business card Ryan gave me. My stomach swirls with relief and worry at the same time. This is my chance to get help, but I have no idea if it’ll work.

  Cupping my hands around the card, I picture Ryan. His gray eyes and the s
pray of stubble on his jaw. I picture him sitting at the table in his kitchen, eating breakfast or reading the paper.

  My body feels like it’s yanked from Logan’s home and dropped into Ryan’s kitchen. I’m so close to the table, I wobble and try not to fall over. I swivel, looking around.

  I’m in Ryan’s house. But he’s not in the kitchen. Taking a steadying breath, I leave the kitchen and search the hall. Then the living room. And then upstairs. He’s nowhere to be found. I jog back downstairs, feeling light and quick, and reach for the curtain at the front window.

  My hands are transparent, and I can see right through them. “Holy shit,” I whisper.

  Then I force myself to focus, trying to peer through the window since I can’t move the curtains.

  I don’t see Ryan’s truck outside. Which means he might have already left to meet me. Now what?

  It takes me a minute to figure out how to leave Ryan’s house, but then I just picture Logan’s bedroom and I feel like I’m floating away from my place by the door. When I open my eyes, I’m sitting on the lounge chair again.

  I exhale. It worked. I didn’t find Ryan, but it worked.

  The business card is still curled in my hand, so I concentrate on it again, this time picturing Ryan himself. I need to find him, and if he’s at my motel, he’s about to figure out I’m not there.

  When my body floats to him, I discover he’s parking his car outside the motel. I’m in the passenger seat, and I turn to him, hoping he can see me.

  He doesn’t even glance my way, just puts the truck in gear and hops out. Crap. I reach for the handle, but my fingers go right through it. I watch as Ryan looks around, probably for my car, and frowns. He looks up to the second floor and then jogs to my room. He bangs on the door, loud enough for me to hear from inside his car. When I don’t answer, he swears and bangs again. Finally, he gives up and jogs down the stairs, heading for the office.

  I try the handle once more. My fingers nudge the metal, and I straighten. Maybe I can get this to work. Before I can wrap my entire hand around the handle, Ryan comes out of the office. He looks confused, like he might really believe I left last night.

  When he hops in the car again, I say his name.

  He pauses, key in the ignition. I reach out and brush his arm with my fingertips, grateful when I make the connection. His head whips in my direction. His eyes widen and I know he can see me.

  “What the hell?”

  “Ryan. I need help.”

  He reaches out, hand going through my arm, and jerks back. “Willow…what’s going on?”

  “Help,” I say, struggling with speaking. I don’t know why it’s hard for me to tell him. It’s like my voice isn’t strong enough. “I’m still in Shadow Hill.”

  I feel my body waver, like it’s trying to pull away.

  “Willow.” Ryan reaches for me again. He looks worried now. “Where are you? How are you doing this?”

  I open my mouth to speak, to tell him I’m at Logan’s, but I’m whisked away, vanishing from his car and opening my eyes to the bedroom. There’s a sound at the door, like someone undoing the lock. My heart races and I quickly stuff the card in my back pocket before the door opens.

  And when it does, Logan’s standing there with a lazy grin.

  Chapter 11

  “Morning,” he says, strolling inside.

  I don’t try to run for it. He’ll be expecting it now. No, now I have to bide my time. I’ll wait until later when he thinks he’s won. And then I’ll try to contact Ryan again. I’ll tell him where I am, that Logan is behind it all, and figure out how to get out of here.

  The necklace is still in my pocket. If Selena gave it to me, maybe it can help somehow.

  So I grit my teeth and try to figure out how to be nice to Logan when all I want to do is kick him in the groin. When he closes the door behind him, I fold my arms.

  His hair is mussed at the top, as though he’s either just gotten up or run his hands through it a dozen times. But he looks rested, even upbeat.

  “Is this your bedroom?” I ask.

  He nods. “I figured if I was going to keep you here, I should at least give you the best accommodations.”

  “You’re so thoughtful.”

  Logan laughs and walks to me. “That’s what I like about you, Willow. Sarcasm even in the midst of a bad situation. You and I are more alike than you think.”

  “Hmm, doubtful. Am I vampire? No. Have I ever kidnapped anyone?” I tilt my head like I’m really thinking about it. “No. Do I have an evil plan to take over the entire town of Shadow Hill? Going to have to go with no on that one, too.”

  He chuckles. “Feisty. I like it. My plan isn’t evil. My motives are not as bad as you think. Besides, it’s putting things back to how they’re supposed to be. You should want that, too. Our bloodline wasn’t the only one who suffered. Yours did, too.”

  “What?”

  “The curse diluted everyone’s powers and made us less than what we really are. You’re more powerful than you think, Willow. And after tonight, I’m willing to bet you’ll feel all that power inside of you. You’ll be able to do things you never thought you could do.”

  Like control the fire. Control the thing keeping me from getting close to anyone. I swallow and push the idea aside. I can’t think like that. If Logan gets all his power back, who knows what he’ll do? And what about any other paranormal being around here? Cheyenne. Does that mean she’ll be more powerful, too?

  If she was trying to get me to leave as well, she clearly doesn’t want that power.

  And neither do I. Do I?

  Logan takes another step closer and crouches in front of me. “See? You’re thinking about it. You’ve seen some of that power with the fire you can conjure. Imagine if it were ten times that.” He reaches out, touching my knee. “One hundred times that.”

  I swat his hand away. “If my mom and other families in this town have been trying to keep the curse intact for so long, it seems to me there’s a reason for it.”

  “They’re scared. They’re weak.” He meets my eyes, dark irises around the pupils. “We’re not.”

  “You’re the only one who wants this curse broken. Doesn’t sound like a curse to me, more like a spell to keep the peace.”

  A muscle works in his jaw like he’s trying to be patient with me. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew the whole story.”

  “Then tell me,” I say. “Tell me everything.”

  He stands abruptly and holds out his hand. “I made breakfast. Come on.”

  I frown and ignore his hand, but I stand and nod. “I’m hungry.”

  “Good.”

  He leads the way to the door and I follow, searching for another exit besides the front door.

  “I hope you slept well,” he says, guiding us to the stairs.

  “I didn’t have much choice.”

  Logan glances over his shoulder. “Sorry about that.” He doesn’t look sorry at all. “It was necessary. And you’ll be happy to know I brought your bags so you’ll have a change of clothes and anything else you’ll need.”

  “Like my cell phone?”

  He smiles at the bottom of the stairs. “Not that.”

  When I walk by, he touches the small of my back, sending tingling swirls all over. I turn around and point my finger at him. “Stop.”

  Logan catches my wrist, pulling me to him faster than I can take a breath. “Willow,” he says, cupping my cheek. His gaze captures mine, a dark void that makes me feel like I’m falling.

  I find my voice. “Don’t do that to me, Logan.”

  “Do what?” he asks softly.

  “That thing with your eyes. You’re trying to…” I shake my head and pull my eyes away. I focus on the collar of his shirt, well aware I’m still trapped in his embrace. “You’re trying to influence me.”

  He breathing is slow and even, his chest rising and falling against mine. We’re not even looking at each other and there’s still a spark of electricity.


  “Look at me,” he says.

  “No.”

  Logan puts his finger under my chin and guides my face up. My eyes flash to his, but I don’t see anything dark there. His eyes are actually a nice shade of deep blue‒not the almost midnight black from earlier. They’re calming but not in a way that makes me feel like I have no control over my thoughts or my body.

  “I want you to kiss me,” he says.

  “Logan‒”

  “No, listen. I want you to kiss me, and I don’t want to influence you to do it.” He leans in, lips brushing my cheek as he whispers in my ear. “No tricks, no spells, no mind control. Just you and me‒and how badly we want each other.”

  He closes the rest of the gap between us, arms tight around me and lips trailing down my neck.

  I arch back, letting him continue his kisses across my collarbone. He’s not influencing me, I can tell. And I still can’t form the words to tell him to stop.

  “I want you,” Logan says thickly. His hands find their way under my shirt, hiking it up so it rises over my stomach, and then higher. “Willow.”

  When I press against him, I can feel the heat from his jeans, the hardness there. I want him, too. I want my hands all over him.

  One of Logan’s hands reaches behind me, cupping my butt. I freeze. Ryan’s card is in there. I can’t let him find that just in case I need it. I press my palms on Logan’s chest.

  “No, Logan. I can’t do this.”

  He looks at me, eyes cloudy with desire. I’m still throbbing with need, but this isn’t right. I’m not supposed to be here. His grip loosens and I step back.

  I hit the wall and stay there a minute. He props his hand next to my head, looking at his shoes. His breathing is heavy and I wait while he composes himself. When he looks up, his expression is pained.

  “Okay,” he says, straightening. “It’s your call. I can be patient. Maybe we should have breakfast.”

  I nod. Breakfast is good. Normal.

  He walks to the kitchen and I follow. Inside, the windows are tall and wide, lighting the space and giving us a nice view of a well-manicured lawn and healthy hedges. There’s a wide island with stools lined on one side, and a table in a nook. It’s loaded with a spread of food that makes my stomach rumble.