She lowered her voice, singing even more quietly, as the wind began to drop and the lightning stopped flashing. “And when the sun comes up, he will sing and dance, and we will take him into the garden, my little Ilusha.” She hummed a bit more, but the lullaby had done its work. The rain grew heavier, hopefully soaking any fires that might have been started by the lightning, but the storm itself had been lulled to sleep. Bella wished that her old mentor could have been there to see it.
Of course, someone else had been, and now there would be no escaping the need to explain.
* * *
SAM STOOD BY the door when she went back inside, his eyes wide and a strange expression on his face that she couldn’t quite decipher. He took her dripping cloak and hung it on a hook, then handed her a towel and a steaming mug of tea. They both sat down at his small kitchen table. All the while she waited for him to ask her about what she’d done. But when the question finally came, it wasn’t the one she’d expected.
“You really are a witch, aren’t you?” he said, sounding more impressed than intimidated.
It looked as though she was going to have less explaining to do than she’d thought. Which was good, considering how exhausted she was.
“How did you know?” she asked Sam, breathing in the warm steam gratefully as she held the mug between chilled fingers. She’d dried her hair as well as she could with the towel and patted mostly futilely at her clothing, but she was still soaking wet and chilled to the bone.
Normally she’d just snap her fingers and magic herself dry, but she’d used up too much energy fighting the storm to indulge in such a trick, even if she felt comfortable doing it in front of Sam. “And how long have you known?”
“My neighbor Tiny told me a few days ago,” Sam said, eyes on the floor. “I was having an . . . unusual issue . . . and he told me that he was part of the community that called you in to deal with the fires.”
“An unusual issue?”
“Is it true?” Sam asked. “Do you really think there is something supernatural behind these fires?” She noticed he’d neatly sidestepped her question.
Bella shrugged, causing a cascade of droplets to hit the floor underneath her. She scrubbed at her hair again, feeling it curling into unruly ringlets because of the moisture. Bah.
“There was certainly something magical behind this storm,” she admitted reluctantly. Baba Yagas didn’t usually share information with normal Humans. But it had worked for her sister Babas, Barbara and Beka, and besides, Sam was right in the middle of this mess; protocol be damned, as far as she was concerned, he deserved to know. “Does that mean there is something supernatural involved in the fires themselves? Honestly, I don’t know yet.”
“But you did come here to look into the fires,” Sam said. “Just like Tiny said.”
“I was Called to do that by the locals, yes,” Bella said. “Although I didn’t know that when I first got here. You don’t, always. I’m also looking for my friends the Riders.” She sighed, trying not to shiver as the cold and damp worked their way into her marrow. “To be honest, I’m beginning to think that the two problems might be related. Not in a good way.”
“You don’t think they’re setting the fires, do you?” Sam started to rise from his chair.
“No, no. Absolutely not.” Bella scowled and gestured at him to sit back down. As if the Riders would ever do such a thing. “My concern is that the same person is behind both the fires and the Riders’ disappearance. If that’s so, it is very bad news. Very, very, very bad news.”
Sam’s eyes got wide. “Are you talking about terrorists or something?”
“I wish,” Bella said. “I could handle terrorists with one hand tied behind my back. On a Tuesday. Before breakfast. No, the person I’m worried might be involved is a lot worse than a terrorist.” She hesitated, but if she was going to tell him the truth, there was no point in stopping halfway. “She’s a Baba Yaga. A witch, like me. Or at least she was.”
“You mean there are good witches and bad witches?” Sam asked. “She’s the wicked witch and you’re the, uh, not-wicked one?”
Bella laughed. “It’s not that simple, Sam. Baba Yagas are neither good nor evil. Most of us are a little bit of both, I suppose, just like Humans. Magic has no moral compass; whether it hurts or harms depends upon who wields it and how.”
“Are you saying you’re not human?” Sam asked. He reached over and put his hand over hers in a gesture that both soothed and moved her. “You seem pretty human to me.”
“I was born as Human as you were,” she said, turning her palm upward to hold on to his. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done such a thing with a Human. With anyone, really. “But being a Baba Yaga changes you. I’m not that girl anymore. Not really Human, no matter how I appear.” She waited for him to pull his hand away, but he didn’t.
“What do you mean?”
More secrets revealed. It occurred to Bella that she must trust this man more than she realized. “Baba Yagas drink an elixir called the Water of Life and Death,” she explained. “It heightens our innate abilities and lengthens our lives, but being incredibly powerful takes away as much as it adds. In the end, none of us are truly Human, not as you would understand the term. And the longer a Baba drinks the Water, the more powerful and less Human she becomes.”
“Is that what happened to the Baba Yaga you think might be causing the fires?” Sam looked understandably dubious.
“Yes and no,” Bella said. “Eventually all Baba Yagas have to retire, and Brenna didn’t want to. The Water can cause a kind of mental imbalance, if it is used for too long. So the Queen made her retire and cut off her supply of the Water of Life and Death. Brenna didn’t take it well.” Remembering the cursing and screaming, Bella thought that was probably the understatement of the century. Unfortunately, they’d all thought Brenna would eventually make her peace with it. Apparently, they’d all been wrong.
“The Queen?” Sam said. “The Queen of England is in charge of the Baba Yagas?”
Bella practically spit out her tea. Coughing, she said, “No, Sam, not the Queen of England. The Queen of the Otherworld.”
“What other world?” he asked, getting up to pour them both some more tea. Bella’s hand felt strangely empty, so she put it in her lap.
“Um, you know all those fairy tales you read as a kid?” she said. “Where you could step through a magical doorway and be in another world? The Otherworld is where you would end up if you did that.”
“Faerie land?” he said, his face brightening. “It really exists?”
“Not faerie, not exactly,” Bella said. “It’s complicated. But something like that. Anyway, if Brenna is behind the fires, that’s a very bad thing. Without the Water, she isn’t as powerful as she was, but she’s still capable of causing a great deal of trouble.” She shook her head. “Speaking of trouble, what was that unusual issue you had that your friend Tiny thought a witch could help you with?”
Sam rubbed one hand tiredly over his face, wincing visibly when it hit the scarred side. “I’m being haunted,” he said. “I think. Or possibly not. I really don’t know.”
* * *
BELLA BLINKED AT Sam. “Well, that’s . . . definitive.” She looked confused, for which he didn’t blame her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” He noticed she was shivering, so he went over and grabbed the blanket off the bed and draped it over her shoulders. She pulled it around herself, nodding her thanks, and scooted her chair a little closer to his.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m happy to help if I can. So what makes you think you might be haunted?” Bella asked. “Are you hearing strange noises? Things being moved around?”
Sam shook his head. “Nothing that random,” he said. He pointed to the floor about three feet in front of them. “She stands right there and talks to me; I can see her as c
learly as I can see you.”
Bella sat up straighter. “Do you mind if I ask who she is?”
He had to swallow around the lump in his throat before he could answer. “Heather. She is—was—my fiancée. That’s who I see.”
“Ah,” Bella said, her posture softening. “She died in the fire with the other Hotshots, right? The same fire you got burned in?”
“Word gets around, huh?” Sam tried not to sound bitter. “I guess I should have figured that someone would tell you.”
“I asked one of the firefighters the other day,” Bella confessed. “I wondered what your story was. I’m sorry if I invaded your privacy.”
Sam sighed. “It’s okay. After all, it was all over the national news when it happened. Half of America knows. I’m well aware that my illusion of privacy up in this tower is just that, an illusion.” Like a lot of other illusions, maybe he just wanted to believe it was true.
Bella took one of his hands and held it between both of hers. They were cold, but her gaze was warm enough to make up for it.
“So, she’s been haunting you since the fire?” Bella asked. “That was, what, two and a half years ago?”
“Almost three,” Sam said. Sometimes it seemed like an eternity ago, sometimes like it just happened yesterday. “But no, I didn’t start seeing her until recently.”
“Huh, that’s odd. Has anything happened that might have triggered the visitations?” Bella asked.
Sam tried not to stare at her, at the red hair and glorious, wild beauty of her. “No,” he lied. “Not really. Maybe I’m dreaming it, although it sure doesn’t seem like a dream while it’s happening.”
Bella looked intrigued. “You said she talks to you? What does she say?”
“She tells me to leave,” he admitted, shoulders drooping. “Tells me that I should leave the tower, give up the job. That I shouldn’t be here.”
Bella raised one eyebrow. “Really? I thought you liked doing this job.”
“I do,” Sam said. “It’s important to me. I don’t know why Heather would tell me to quit, but that’s what she says, every time. Leave.” He wasn’t about to mention the ghost’s anger over him spending time with Bella. This whole conversation was bad enough already.
“Could she be trying to protect you?” Bella asked. “Because of all the fires this year?”
Sam looked at the worn wooden floorboards. “It’s more likely that she’s trying to protect everyone else. She says I’m not competent to do the job. That people are going to get hurt because of me.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Bella said, and steam began to rise gently from the blanket around her shoulders for a minute until she took a couple of deep breaths and calmed down with a visible effort. “You’re doing your job just fine, as far as I can tell. You saw Jazz when she was in trouble the other day and called in the cavalry. You’ve spotted every fire early on.”
She shook her head, damp curls flopping. “No, I understand about doubting yourself, really I do. But the ghost, if it is a ghost, is dead wrong about you not being up to the job. Sorry about the pun.”
Sam gave a small laugh, inexplicably cheered by her forceful defense of him, even if he didn’t think he deserved it. But then reality settled back in again.
“If it is a ghost,” he repeated. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Because if there isn’t a ghost, if it is just my own self-doubt, then I’m seeing things, and that’s not good.”
Bella gave his hand a squeeze. “PTSD?”
“You know about PTSD?” Sam asked, pulling his hand free and trying not to show how uncomfortable the conversation was making him.
She rolled her eyes. “I spend most of my time in the woods and the deserts, not on the moon. Besides, because of my particular talents,” she gave the word air quotes, “I end up on the front lines of forest fires fairly often. I just spent three miserable weeks in Montana trying to keep an entire mountain from burning down, some days fighting side by side with firefighters from all over the country. It’s an occupational hazard for anyone who lives that kind of life; for someone who has been through what you’ve been through, it’s practically a given.”
This information distracted Sam from his own misery for a moment. “Wait—you’re a firefighter?”
“Not the way you were, no,” Bella said. “I fight fire with magic, the way I put out the fire that had Jazz trapped up in that tree. But sometimes to get at the blaze, I have to blend in with the people who are already there. If necessary, I can act out the role. But believe me, I’m a lot more effective wielding my power than I am an ax.”
Sam felt a spark of hope. “Hey, if you can put out fires—”
Bella held up one slim hand. “Some fires,” she said. “If I catch them early enough and small enough, like the couple I’ve put out since I’ve been here. Once they get to a certain size and magnitude, the best I can do is encourage the wind to die down or the rain to fall, or smother key sections to help out the folks who are fighting it with conventional methods. I’m a Baba Yaga, not a miracle worker.”
“Being able to put out a fire with magic seems pretty miraculous to me,” he said, but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. For a minute there, it had looked like all their problems were over. The fire problems, anyway. He would still have had to deal with this other one.
“If you know about PTSD, then you know why I’m almost hoping I am being haunted,” Sam said. “The alternative, that my mind is playing tricks on me, is worse than a ghost.”
Bella nodded. “Did they give you anything to take for it?”
Sam glanced at the kitchen drawer and away again. “The doctor prescribed a tranquilizer, but I don’t dare take it. Those things can make you drowsy or foggy, and I just can’t risk not being alert when I need to be. I’m managing okay without it. At least I thought I was.”
“I can make you up something herbal that will help you relax without making you dopey,” she said. “I’m not as good at it as my sister Barbara is, but all Baba Yagas know herbs. And tomorrow, when I’m not so wiped out, I’ll be happy to come back and see if I can sense your ghost. Baba Yagas are pretty good at talking to the dead.” She tried to cover a yawn, but Sam could see that she was exhausted.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Uh-huh.” Bella stood up and put the blanket over the back of her chair. “I’ll worry about anyone I feel like. But tonight I’m too tired to do anything useful about it, so I’m just going to head home. We’ll deal with your ghost tomorrow.”
Sam stood too, looking out the window so he wouldn’t focus on how close she was standing to him.
“You should stay,” he said, without realizing he was going to.
“What?” Bella looked as startled as he felt.
“You should stay,” he repeated. “The worst of the storm may be over, but it is still raining. It’s pitch-black out there, and you’re already tired and soaked to the bone. Not exactly great conditions for riding a dirt bike. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
Bella took another small step toward him, tilting her head up so she could look into his eyes.
“And that’s the only reason you want me to stay? To keep me safe?”
Sam shook his head. “No. Not the only reason.” And he leaned down to kiss her, suddenly realizing he’d been wanting to do it since the day he met her.
NINETEEN
AS SOON AS his lips touched hers, Sam felt passion flare between them like a wildfire that had been smoldering for days and finally been given air and fuel and the space to ignite. All the longing he’d been suppressing flooded to the surface, and judging from the way she kissed him back, he had to think she’d been feeling the same way.
Bella’s arms went around him as she went up on her toes, her soft mouth pressed against his, her body stretched against the length of his body. For a moment, t
he entire world shrank down to the two of them, and then Bella pulled back long enough to murmur something that sounded like, “It took you long enough,” before stripping off her damp tee shirt and tossing it onto the floor.
Sam fumbled with the buttons of his own shirt as he gazed hungrily at the vibrant woman standing in front of him. In the end he just yanked it over his head, still half buttoned, and scooped Bella up in his arms. She laughed, burying her head in his chest until they lay together on his bed and took turns removing the remains of each other’s clothes.
In the dim light of the fire tower, Sam finally found the freckles he’d been looking for; a few scattered across her shoulder as he nibbled and licked his way down, a couple on the inside of a knee as he kissed his way back up. Then he lost himself in the mysterious new terrain of her luscious curves and soft, sweet valleys until his blood began to burn and all he could feel was her moving beneath him, calling his name as she rose and fell with the rhythm of their dance.
As they climaxed, the full moon broke through the rain clouds briefly, illuminating her face, eyes closed in ecstasy, head thrown back in joyous abandon, and he buried himself deep inside her one more time, feeling the flames of their shared passion burning his soul clean, if only for a moment.
Afterward, they lay curled around each other’s damp bodies on the narrow bed, Bella’s red curls spilling over his chest, one arm draped across him. Her eyes fluttered with satiated exhaustion, a small smile still playing around the corners of her full lips.
Sam started to move away, and she pulled him closer.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Shhh,” he said. “I’m just going to grab the blanket and turn out the light. I’ll be right back.”
Bella chuckled sleepily and waved her right hand. The blanket lifted off the back of the chair where she’d left it and came slowly sailing across the room to drape itself over their entwined bodies. A snap of her fingers and the single lamp in the kitchen went out.
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