Bound (Keeper of the Flame Book 2)

by Lila Kane

  I settled on something halfway productive and something I enjoy. Shopping. Shopping for shoes might have put me in a better mood, but I can’t put off my job forever.

  “I don’t know.” I press a hand to my forehead, feeling warm out in the sun. And exposed, like he knows how overwhelmed I am. I’m not doing a great job at keeping it hidden. “I needed something normal to do. And now I have a desk.”

  “Good thing for you I happen to have a truck.” But Ryan doesn’t move. There’s concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

  I nod, blinking back the sudden tears that want to come out. He’s not like Logan. Logan would press and press until I gave in‒either that or he probably would have known what was wrong in the first place. But Ryan takes his time and expects that people will talk if they need to talk. Right now, I’m lucky he’s the one standing here.

  I don’t want to talk. I’m afraid I’m going to break down.

  He clasps his fingers around mine briefly. “Come on. We’ll get your desk home.”

  Ryan does most of the lifting, which is fine by me. He loads it into the back of his truck and I follow him to the cute little rental that feels even more like home now. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve added my own touches.

  Ryan helps me carry the desk into the spare bedroom. I place it under the window that overlooks the backyard and the grass that’s coming in thick and green now.

  “I hope you don’t mind me furnishing your house,” I say.

  He smiles. “It’s your house for now.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  This time he frowns. “I can tell something’s wrong.”

  My heart squeezes. Everything is wrong. And all I want to do is lean into him and take what comfort I can.

  “Willow.” His voice is low. Compelling.

  “Someone killed my father,” I blurt out.

  “What?”

  I pace away from the window. “My father was murdered a few years ago‒it’s part of the reason I started researching the paranormal and supernatural. Markings of the occult were found near his body and…” I turn back to face him. “Faye‒my mom‒thinks it might have something to do with the spell.”

  He steps closer to me, rubbing his jaw. “You mean she thinks it might have been someone from Shadow Hill? Or at least someone who knows about Shadow Hill?”

  I nod.

  “God, Willow. I’m sorry.”

  He pulls me into his arms. I rest my cheek on his chest, comforted by the steadiness of his heartbeat and the strength of his arms around me.

  “Logan’s the one who sent me the note,” I say.

  He looks down. “The note that told you to come here? The one you thought your mother sent?”

  “Yes.”

  Ryan switches his grip so he’s holding me at arm’s length. “You think Logan’s the one who killed your father?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t‒” I shake my head. “I need to talk to him.”

  “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “Willow.” He breaks contact with me long enough to run a hand through his hair and sigh before grabbing my arms again. “If he killed your father, he’s more dangerous than we thought. You shouldn’t be around him.”

  “But I don’t know if he did. And I don’t think he’d hurt me‒”

  “Are you listening to yourself right now?” He growls in frustration. “I don’t know how to get through to you.”

  “You don’t understand, Ryan. I need answers.”

  “I know.” He runs his hand through his hair again. “I know, and that’s why I’m trying to see this from your side. I just wish…I wish you’d listen to me. I can’t protect you like this.”

  I cross my arms. “It’s not your job to protect me.”

  He gives a short laugh. “Technically, it is.”

  “I don’t mean by some old tradition put into place. I mean here. Today. Just you and me or whatever this is.”

  I see his throat move with a swallow. He steps close to me again. “Whatever this is,” he murmurs.

  He lifts his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks. My eyelids swoop closed when he brushes my cheekbones with his thumbs.

  “Let me be here for you,” Ryan whispers. “Let me take care of you.”

  I want to tell him I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I want to convince him I’m strong and independent, but he’s only doing what he’s supposed to. What’s been ingrained in him since his birth. To take care of the witch.

  His breath is warm against my lips, lingering a long moment before our mouths connect. His smell is familiar and so are the hands that rush down my sides and under my shirt. I arch into him and almost give into the feeling of being wanted, being safe.

  And then my mind ruins it all. I don’t know how I feel about Ryan, I just know I can’t do this when I’m not sure where I’m at with Logan.

  Oh, come on, Selena says, you know you want him.

  I gasp and freeze.

  Ryan’s eyes are cloudy with desire when he meets my gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t…I don’t think we should be doing this.”

  He braces his hand on the wall next to me, bowing his head. His breathing is labored. “You’re right. Sorry. I said I’d give you space and I’m…” He laughs. “I’m not. It’s hard.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I say, touching his cheek. “It’s mine. After all that happened with Logan, it was easy to be with you and I wanted to. You were there for me and that’s the first time I’ve been able to feel comfortable being with someone in a long time. But if I’m going to be here a while, I need to sort out my feelings.”

  “I’m still here for you,” he says. His fingers close over mine, pulling them away from his cheek to entwine with them.

  “I know.”

  “Okay, so…no touching.”

  It takes every ounce of willpower I have to nod as I pull away. “Probably not the best idea. Thank you for helping with the desk.”

  “No problem.” He shrugs. “I don’t have to be anywhere for the rest of the day. We can do a movie and sit really far away from each other on the couch.”

  I laugh and put my arms around him in a hug. “Okay, maybe a little touching.”

  His lips brush my hair. “A little is good enough. For now.”

  We both fall asleep on the couch after the movie. I still feel half stuck in a dream world when I wake to fluttering. It sounds just like the fluttering I heard in the motel when I got to Shadow Hill. The pages of the Book of Shadows.

  I forgot I left it on the coffee table. When Ryan shifts beside me, I scoop the book into my arms.

  “What’s going on?” he mumbles.

  “Nothing,” I whisper. “Go back to sleep.”

  I carry the book into the kitchen and wince when I flick the light on. It burns against my tired eyes, but I try to focus. The book was trying to tell me something.

  It’s still on the page it opened to and I read the title. How to Hinder a Witch’s Powers.

  I read the text, growing more interested the further I get. Witches, like vampires or werewolves, have their weaknesses. Apparently burning a witch’s Book of Shadows is one of them. Like a hit on their power.

  But…why does my book want me to know this? Because of Selena?

  And if so, how does that make sense? Selena is dead. But if she can influence me‒or at least try‒she obviously still has power. If I can take that away, maybe she’ll leave me alone.

  As if in response to my thoughts, Selena sends horrible visions through my head. Visions of my mother burning to death in her house, visions of me stabbing Ryan and running my hands through his blood. Visions of me trapping Logan in the cave again and impaling him.

  I exhale, pressing my hands against my eyes. “Leave me alone.”

  Kill Logan.

  I stand so abruptly, my chair wobbles. I peer into the living room to make sure Ryan’s still asleep. He shifts on the couch, one arm hanging over the edge.
/>   I’ll make you kill him, too.

  My hands shake as I close the Book of Shadows. I can’t let her hurt Ryan‒or try to make me hurt him. It’s amazing how swiftly she switched sides, going from helping me to trying to turn me into the evil person she obviously became.

  When I see another flash of myself with a knife in my hands, standing over Ryan, I scamper away from the table and head straight for the front door. I grab my purse and scratch out a brief message to him that I leave on the coffee table. I have to get out of here.

  It’s still early morning and it’ll be another few hours before the sun comes up, but I don’t care. I need to find Selena’s Book of Shadows. It’s literally a matter of life and death. Making sure I have a flashlight in my glove compartment, I head straight to the Shadow Hill Hotel.

  The cave I trapped Logan in was her haven of sorts. A place she kept leading me to. It’s where I found my own Book of Shadows. It’s a place only witches are allowed to enter safely.

  I have a strong feeling in my gut her book is there, too.

  The parking lot is dark and quiet when I arrive. I’m grateful it’s halfway warm out because I forgot to bring a jacket or anything but my purse. I feel conspicuous stepping out of my car with just my cell phone and the flashlight‒like I’m some sort of burglar or trespasser.

  I creep around to the back of the building, to the familiar path I’ve been on more than once over the last week. I pass the hedge maze, but can’t make out the cemetery in the darkness. An owl hoots overhead and I jump before quickening my pace.

  I stumble on twigs, but don’t slow down. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. I probably should have just gone to Cheyenne’s house and stayed there until the sun came up.

  But, damn Selena, she won’t leave me alone. She probably would have told me to hurt Cheyenne, too.

  You can have so much power, she says.

  Gritting my teeth, I say, “I don’t want power. I want my life back. I want…”

  I leave the rest of the sentence unsaid. I don’t know what I want, really, but freedom from this circumstance is pretty high up. Maybe even freedom from my power altogether. That way I can have a normal life and normal relationships and maybe…maybe even a normal family. After all, it seems like my mom wants to be a part of that now.

  She’s using you like all the rest.

  I clasp my hands over my ears like that might tune her out. But it won’t. She’s inside of me.

  The cave is just beyond the break in the trees. It’s hard to make out anything in the darkness, but I know I’m close. I feel it.

  A branch snaps loudly beneath my feet. I breathe out and pause when a flicker of light catches my eye. I turn in that direction, wondering if it was just a reflection from my flashlight.

  The light comes again, a low hum of green, like a glow-in-the-dark forest nymph. “What the hell?” I whisper.

  I take a few steps. There are more of them now, dozens of spots of light floating in a circle. I can feel the power behind them‒someone is casting a spell or using magic somehow.

  When I get closer, I make out another structure, something stone and circular rising up from the ground. I shine my flashlight over the mossy rocks and boards lying across the top.

  It’s a well.

  The glowing lights swirl around it, fluttering in a hypnotic dance. Swaying in the breeze.

  My stomach twists. No, this isn’t good. Something’s happening.

  But before I can turn, before I can run, a rush of wind hits me and knocks me over. I fall against the planks of wood with a gasp, clutching for the stones on the side of the well. The wood splinters beneath me and I freeze for a panicked moment before the wood gives way and I plunge into blackness.

  Chapter 14

  My breath is knocked out of me when I hit the bottom. There’s just a few feet of water, but not enough to cushion my fall.

  I groan, water dripping from my face and my elbow radiating with pain. My body groans along with me, banged and bruised. I’m so shocked by the fall, I can’t even pinpoint what’s hurt, just that my body isn’t functioning correctly.

  Forcing myself to my feet, I brace my hand against the wall of the well, the stones wet and cold against my palm. My head swims and I swallow down a wave of nausea. I peer to the top of the well, barely able to make out a dark hole. It seems so far away. My flashlight is submerged in the water, but it’s still working. I pick it up and it flickers before going off.

  “No,” I mumble, smacking it against my palm. I flip the switch back and forth, but it still doesn’t come on.

  I try not to panic even as water drips down my cheeks and arms in a way that feels like spiders crawling all over my body. The shivering starts.

  Fumbling in my back pocket, I find my phone. I can’t see anything, but I can feel the button at the bottom. The display lights up and I’m so relieved, I almost drop it in the water.

  My fingers shake as I find Ryan’s number. I press the button to send the call and wait while it rings. I don’t even know where he left his phone. And he’s sleeping. But when it finally goes to voicemail, I hang up and try not to throw the phone. It’s my only link to the outside right now.

  Next, I try Cheyenne but she also doesn’t answer.

  Emotion clogs my throat even as I tell myself to stay calm. “Please,” I whisper.

  Who else can I call? Logan? No…no, I’m supposed to be staying away from him. My mom‒I could try her.

  The face of the phone blacks out.

  “No, no, no‒please‒” I press the buttons again but nothing works. My breath comes out in a sob. “Selena…”

  I can’t feel her with me right now. Not like I usually can. I shouldn’t be calling her for help, but I don’t know what else to do. And then it hits me. She wanted this. I was coming for her Book of Shadows and she didn’t want me to find it. She knew.

  The glowing green lights.

  That must of have been her. How did she do that? How can she have that much power? Is she really that strongly connected to me?

  I press my hands against the stones in the darkness and start feeling around with my fingers, searching for grooves and notches or any way I can try to climb out. I find a large stone and curl my fingers around it. Then I find a foothold and boost myself up a foot. Encouraged, I try to find another.

  My hand slips along the stones, but I can’t find anything. I close my eyes even though I can’t see anything, and will my hand to find a stone. I push with all my power and hear shifting in the darkness.

  My fingers collide with the stone and I haul myself up another foot. My right arms aches, and they’re both shaking from the strain of holding on. I try willing another stone to come out, but my powers are weak now. There are stars at the corners of my vision.

  “No,” I whisper. “Just hold on.”

  My foot slips and I plunge back into the water, banging my head on the stone wall before blacking out.

  When I wake up, my teeth are chattering. Above, through the slats in the wood, I see a faint tinge to the sky. It’s morning.

  The water is freezing, seeping deep into my bones. I can barely move because my limbs are so cold. It blocks out the pain from falling, but this a new kind of pain that scares me.

  Is Selena trying to kill me? Why did she do this to me?

  I try my phone again, but it won’t turn on. Rubbing my hands over my arms, I search my brain for a solution. People will come for me eventually. They’ll find me. But I don’t want to wait hours or days for that to happen.

  My breath catches in another sob. I swallow it down. I can’t fall apart now.

  Astral projection. That’s what I did last time I was stuck. I projected myself to Ryan and he saw me.

  Curling myself on a rock in the driest part of the well, I close my eyes, taking a few breaths and trying to slow my heartbeat. Usually, I can feel my power gathering, like a ball of energy that builds and builds in my chest before it spreads throughout my entire body. This time, there’s b
arely anything there.

  I force my energy away from my body, aiming for my house, where I hope Ryan’s still sleeping. I only make it as far as the road beyond the hotel. I try to push it farther, but I can’t.

  My astral self comes back to my body and I cover my face with my hands. I’m not strong enough to get all the way to my house. Not now. My mother’s house is farther away‒and so is Cheyenne’s.

  Logan is closest. But I don’t know if I can even make it there. With our connection, though, maybe it’ll help.

  I bite my lip. I really don’t want to involve him in this. But I know he’ll come‒as long as he can see my projected self.

  Focusing a long moment before I project helps and this time I’m able to make it all the way to Logan’s bedroom. It’s dim inside, the shutters drawn, and the sun barely starting to come up outside.

  I spot the lump on the bed and try to move closer. My first swipe at the covers misses, going right through the comforter that I remember being soft and plush. I try again, but it still doesn’t connect. My limbs start flickering in and out.

  “Logan,” I say.

  My voice is soft, barely audible above his breathing.

  I try speaking louder. “Logan.”

  He jerks to a sitting position, eyes opening. His hair is ruffled and he’s not wearing a shirt. When he sees me, he says, “Holy shit.”

  Logan drags the covers closer to his body and if I wasn’t so worried about getting through to him, I might be amused.

  “I need help,” I say.

  He narrows his eyes, and then they widen when he realizes he can see through me. I reach for him and hear him say my name as I’m ripped away.

  I’m back in the well fast enough to make me dizzy. I sink against the stones and wrap my arms around my knees, shaking so hard my teeth start chattering again. There’s no power left in me. I feel like I did a few years ago. Normal. Empty of magic.