by Lila Kane
“We didn’t see her,” Faye answers for him. “I don’t think she knows.”
“You can’t tell her, Logan. We need her on our side.”
His teeth flash with another growl. “She tried to kill you.”
“It’s not like that–”
“The hell it’s not! Willow, you almost died.”
“I didn’t–”
“You did,” Faye confirms. Her voice wobbles with the words, and she stands, turning away. “I’m going to need something more for the burns. They should be gone by now.”
“Mom, wait.”
But she continues out to the hallway where I hear her exchange a few words with the rest of the group. Diane returns with the water and puts it into my hands.
“Will you please make sure James is okay?” I ask her.
She nods and leaves me and Logan alone. He leans in, resting his cheek on my knees and closing his eyes. “We shouldn’t have gone. We shouldn’t have left you here.”
“We had no idea this was going to happen.” To soothe the scratch in my throat, I take a long swallow of water. I return it to the table, and then lean back against the cushions to close my eyes as well. My hands won’t stop burning and my whole body feels almost numb. It doesn’t want to cooperate.
I brush my fingers across his head, but it irritates my burns, and I stop. Logan lifts one of my hands.
Forcing my eyes open, I watch him staring at the burns. “What is it?”
“Your mom’s right. It should be healed by now.” He grabs my other hand, and what he sees makes him wince. “Where else are you hurt?”
“I’m…” When I see the look in his eye, my lip wobbles. “Logan, don’t look at me like that. I’m okay.”
“You almost weren’t. Do you understand that? Willow–” He breaks off, words choked by emotion. “If I could take this all back, I would. Every bit of it. I wouldn’t have ever brought you here. I would have made sure Kane knew nothing about this place. I’d take it all back.”
“No, because then Myra would still be sick–”
“And we’d find a way to deal with it,” he insists. “I want you out of here. Away from all of this.”
“What about us?” I ask, struggling to push myself up on the cushions so I can see his face.
His eyes search mine. For a moment, my stomach clenches. He’d give us up if it meant ending all this? Or is he just trying to think of another way?
Would I? If I could go back or take this all way, would I do it if it meant losing what Logan and I have?
“That was quite the coincidence,” Cheyenne announces as she walks into the room. Ryan and Myra are right behind her. There’s hardness in her jaw but a suspicious look to her eyes that says she’s handling this by being angry–or else she might break down.
“What was coincidence?” I ask.
She props her knee on the arm of the couch next to me. “That Kane planned an attack on us at the same time we were visiting him. At the same time Morgan was gone. Wouldn’t he have been surprised if none of us were here?”
“They would have burned down the house.”
“And you would have been safe,” Logan says.
“Houses are replaceable,” Myra adds, her fingers linked tightly with Ryan’s. Her eyes meet mine. “Willow, I’m so sorry.”
I scoot to the edge of the couch, trying to put as little pressure on my hands as possible. “Myra, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s. Hopefully what was going on here, all the men Kane sent, made it easier for you to get done what you needed to get done.”
“The whole thing was smooth,” Cheyenne says. “In and out. And, obviously, something that can’t happen again.”
Logan’s nod is curt. “I agree.”
He stands and, as the only one sitting, I feel again like I’m left out of the decision-making process. I struggle to stand up, even as Logan shakes his head. “Willow, please sit down.”
“No.” My point is fumbled a little when I have to lean into Logan to catch my balance, but I lift my chin. “Kane’s influencing people to do what he wants. If we don’t stop him soon, half the town is going to be under his spell.”
“She’s right.” James leans against the doorframe, eyelids heavy. His hair is mussed and there’s still blood on his face from helping me.
“I really don’t need your input right now,” Logan mumbles.
“If not for him, we wouldn’t have saved Diane,” I say. “Without him I might not be here–”
“Don’t say that,” Logan murmurs, his mouth close to my ear. He supports me with one arm around my waist.
“We need to figure out what to do.”
Faye strolls back into the room with a tube of some sort of salve, a rag, and a mug of tea I can smell from here. “We need to regroup.”
“You need to get some rest,” Myra says to me.
“That’s all for tonight,” Cheyenne says firmly.
Faye walks around the coffee table. “Sit down for a minute, would you?”
Because everyone’s staring at me, and I can barely stand any longer, I do what she says. They’re right, I need rest. Before we can take on Kane or help anyone else, I have to get my strength back.
“Drink this,” Faye orders, hanging me the cup.
I take it gingerly, the heat burning my hands.
“Let me help,” Logan says, sitting on the other side of me.
“It’s fine. I–” I planned on drinking it in one long gulp, but the concoction is so potent, it makes me grimace. “What the hell is in this?”
“Something to help you heal faster. And sleep better. So you can get your strength back. Go on.”
Wincing, I take a sip. There’s peppermint and lavender in there, and something else I don’t want to even guess at.
“More,” Faye encourages. “Finish it, and then I’ll do what I can for your hands.”
“Why aren’t they healing themselves?” Myra asks.
“She used too much power,” James says. “There’s nothing left for her.”
Logan nudges the teacup, his hooded eyes tortured and guilty. “Drink the rest.”
When Diane runs back in the room, I nearly drop the teacup.
“She’s coming,” she says, gesturing to the front door.
I try to stand, but Logan takes hold of my arm gently. “Who?”
“Morgan.”
Myra bares her teeth. “I’m going to kill her.”
“Wait.” I appeal to Logan, then Cheyenne. “She doesn’t know, right? She doesn’t know what we know. She thinks she’s still on our side. We have to play along–”
“The hell we do,” Logan says, standing.
“No. Logan, wait.” I tug on his hand, and when he won’t listen, I stand again. The tea is already kicking in and making me feel like I’ve had a few too many glasses of wine. I put a hand to my forehead. “Logan…”
“Easy there,” Faye says. “You’re going to want to sit down before this really kicks in.”
“Play along,” I repeat. “Cheyenne, you know I’m right. If she…” I shake my head, struggling to focus. “I can’t…”
Cheyenne sighs. “Willow’s right. If she finds out we know, she’ll either run to Kane and tell him or hurt one of us. If she’s the one who enchanted the fire tonight, we already know how dangerous she is. We have to…”
“Influence her,” I mumble.
Logan’s gaze snaps to mine. “What?”
I swallow, feeling the room spin. “It’s the only way.”
The front door unlatches. Logan tenses. Then we hear the click of Morgan’s heels as she walks into the house, and down the hallway. She starts to go by the living room, like she’s heading for the kitchen, then stops when she sees all of us.
I have to hand it to her, she’s a wonderful actress. She’s going to be a wonderful ally, too, if we can get her fully on our side.
“What’s going on?” Morgan asks, eyebrows knitting.
Logan’s voice is tight when he ad
dresses her. “Where have you been?”
I elbow him in the side, but it lacks power. He ignores it.
“In town,” Morgan says easily. “Something was going on. People acting strange, like–like they were being influenced or something.” She shakes her head as if the idea of it just makes her sick.
“Kane,” I say, nodding. My voice slurs when I continue, and she narrows her eyes. “He must be…trying to get more people on his side.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Morgan asks, stepping farther into the room.
“Some of those people Kane’s influencing,” Cheyenne says coolly. “He sent them here. There was an attack.”
“Oh my God. Willow, are you okay?”
Her face goes in and out of focus. I smile and nod. “I feel pretty damn good right now.”
Faye stands and faces Morgan. “I gave her something to help.”
Morgan moves even closer. “Is there something I can do, maybe? A spell or–”
Logan steps in front of me before I can open my mouth. “No, she just needs rest. But we’re going to have to figure out what to do about Kane.”
“Absolutely,” Morgan says, meeting Logan’s eyes. “Whatever you need–I’m here for you.”
His shoulders are tight when he glances back at me. I can see he doesn’t want to influence her. I know he hates doing that. But he’s the best at it. And she trusts him the most.
Logan steps up to her, staring in her eyes. “Morgan, I need you to listen to me.”
“Sure, I…” Her voice fades out as her gaze is trapped in his.
“Kane isn’t on our side. He’s the bad guy. You’re going to help us fight him.”
“I’m going to help you fight him,” she confirms.
My stomach rolls a little, remembering when Kane influenced me like this. He turned me against this whole group and made them the enemy. But what we’re doing with Morgan–for Morgan–isn’t the same thing. If she keeps helping Kane, more innocent people will get hurt. If she helps us, we might be able to stop it.
“You’re going to go to your room and sleep until morning,” Logan says. She nods. “You won’t use the phone or go anywhere until you check in with me. Right, Morgan?”
“Right,” she echoes. “I’m going to go to sleep until morning.”
Logan releases a slow breath. “Goodnight, Morgan.”
She lifts her fingers in a wave. “Goodnight. I hope you feel better, Willow.”
“Thanks,” I slur, unable to help my grin. “That was really nice of her.”
Logan turns and frowns at me. “I don’t like this.”
“It’s necessary,” Cheyenne says. “I know it’s something Kane would do”–she glances at me–“has done. But we can’t have her on his side or this whole thing is pointless. You sure she’ll be fine until morning?”
Logan nods.
My eyes widen. “What about the vampire downstairs?” I cling to Logan’s arm. “Is she going to…” I lower my voice. “Change?”
“She needs to go to bed,” Faye says. She hands Logan the salve and the cloth. “Put some on her hands and cover it with a cool rag for a few minutes on each. And then sleep.”
I nod with purpose. “Yes, ma’am.”
Faye only smiles and touches my cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
I hug her a little too enthusiastically. “Me, too. Thank you.”
Logan wraps his arm around my waist. “Okay, time to go.”
“Goodnight everyone,” I say.
None of them make a move to go to bed, but Logan’s ushering me along so I can’t stay to see what’s going on. My legs feel like jelly, but my hands don’t hurt anymore.
“I’m pretty sure I’m drunk,” I tell Logan as he tries to walk me to the stairs.
“I’m pretty sure it was just the tea.”
I grin at him as we reach the bottom of the stairs. My body feels weightless and my worries have vanished. “That tea…should be illegal. I feel great.”
He smiles back. “I’m glad.”
But there’s still worry etched on his face. I reach out, trying to smooth it away. “Don’t do that. Please, Logan…” I grip the banister. “You’re going to make me cry.”
“No crying,” he whispers as he scoops me up.
I give a low laugh, and then hang on as he races up the stairs and to his bedroom. It’s cool and dark inside. I wave my hand to light the candles by the bed.
Nothing happens.
“That’s not good.”
“What’s not?” Logan asks, setting me on the bed. He reaches for the lamp.
“I can’t make those candles work.”
Logan takes my hand gently. “Are you trying to do magic? Willow…”
“Uh oh…I’m in trouble.” I lean back against the pillows with a smile. But being in trouble with Logan isn’t all that bad. He usually just chides me, and sighs a lot and runs his hands through his hair, and then kisses me. “We should just skip to that part.”
He glances up from the end table, where he’s opening the salve. “What part?”
“The kissing part.”
His eyes flicker with amusement. “I think you need to sleep. Let me get this stuff on your hands.”
I hold them out, letting him rub the cream over the blisters and raw, red spots. “I bet if I could feel anything, this would really hurt.”
This time there isn’t any amusement in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“No. No, that’s not…” Shit, it’s so hard to get my mouth to work right. I just want Logan to understand what’s in my head. That it’s not his fault. That I love him. That I need him here with me right now because I know, somewhere in the back of my head, that life is going to get real again tomorrow and there may not be another moment where we can just be alone. Together.
Logan walks to the bathroom. I hear water running for a few moments before he returns with the rag. He presses it between my hands, and reaches for the covers.
“My jeans,” I mumble. “I can’t sleep with…jeans on.”
When I fumble with the button, he catches my hands and presses the rag between them. “Hold onto this. I’ll get your jeans.”
He frowns while he undoes my pants, and is quick and efficient as he slides them down my legs, removing my shoes and socks along the way. He sets them all in a neat pile by the bed.
My eyes fall shut as the covers come over me. I hear Logan moving around the room, feel the rag being pulled lightly from my hands, and sigh when the pillow, the comforter, and sleep tries to embrace me.
“That’s it,” Logan says. “Just sleep.”
He clicks off the lamp by the bed, but I don’t feel him get in next to me.
I have to try twice before I can get my mouth to move. “Logan?”
The bed shifts. “I’m here.”
“Are…you staying?”
“Of course.”
He climbs under the covers, naked from the waist up. And when he pulls me to him, circling his arms around me, I feel safe for the first time all night.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
His lips brush my hair. “Don’t apologize. Just sleep.”
“But…” I lift my chin, letting my lips brush against his throat.
“Willow.” His voice is hoarse. “Please.”
“It’s not…your fault.”
His arms tighten around me. “I shouldn’t have left you here.”
“You were doing what I asked. I…wanted to save that girl. And you did.” I sigh. “You saved her. And you’re taking care of me now. I love you.”
His breath hitches. “I love you, too.”
I kiss his jaw. “Would you really take it all back to…end this?”
His shifts, burying his face in my hair. “You need to sleep.”
“Logan.”
His breath brushes my ear when he answers. “No. No, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t stand to lose you. To never have met you. It’s…I can’t even imagine it. We’re supposed to be together.�
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The words soothe me, and I drift, letting my whole body relax. When I’m deep in sleep, I dream, of a world from the past. Where my father is alive, I’m not stuck in Shadow Hill, and Logan and I have never met.
Chapter 14
When I wake still feeling groggy, I roll to my side, prepared to see Logan. But his side of the bed is empty. One day, when this is all over, we might be able to spend more than a few hours at night together. We might have days, we might have a life, maybe even a family…
The thought sobers me. It doesn’t make sense thinking about the future when we can barely get through one day at a time. I lift the ring on the end of the chain at my neck.
Maybe saying yes was a mistake. It’s false hope. A belief that once this is all over we’ll have our happily-ever-after.
I’ve never had one of those, learned not to believe in them.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and groan at the soreness in my body. That’s right. Days like this are why I let go of happy ending dreams. Because real life isn’t a fairytale. Sure, you have to learn to appreciate the good moments. But you also have to be grounded enough to know everything can be taken away–especially the people you love.
When I stand, I assess the rest of the damage. The blisters on my hands are fading, but still tender. My lungs feel like I ran for miles yesterday, pulling tight when I breathe in and out, and my head can’t seem to focus.
But all in all, not too bad considering we’d faced down enchanted fire and brought a girl back from the dead.
After taking a quick shower, I wander downstairs and frown at how quiet it is. Usually someone is up before me. And where’s Logan?
I glance into the library, stopping when I see Cheyenne. One finger is tapping against her lips as she purses them in thought. There’s a frown lining her brow.
“What’re you working on?” I ask from the doorway.
She jumps when she sees me, making me frown. Cheyenne’s usually so on her game. Her hearing is as good as mine has come to be as well. She should have heard me coming.
She reaches for the book like she might close it, then changes her mind. “Just an idea. How are you?”
“Better. Where is everyone?”
“Here and there.” She glances to the kitchen. “Cleaning up after lunch and–”