by Lila Kane
I hear their voices before they come around the corner. Then I get my first glimpse of Logan’s face up close, and it nearly takes my breath away.
He pauses, head angling in question. He gives a half smile, like he’s about to greet me. Or maybe…he recognizes me.
My heart strains toward his.
“Hi,” Myra says. “Can we help you?”
“I…” I swallow, suddenly so nervous, I’m not sure how to say what I came to say. “I’m the one who called you.”
Logan moves lighting fast, and has me pinned against the wall, his fingers rough on my upper arms. “Who are you?”
“Logan,” Myra says, her voice chiding. “Be careful.”
But he doesn’t loosen his grip. His eyes go fierce. “She knows you’re sick. She knows who we are, but we know nothing about her.”
I wince at the pressure he’s putting on my arms. “I’m–I can help you, Myra.”
“Liar,” Logan hisses.
Myra sets her hand on his arm. “Logan, let her go.”
“I swear I won’t hurt you. You have my word.”
His grip loosens slightly, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “What do you want?”
“I want to help,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because…you’re right. I know you. It’s…a long story.”
“So, tell it.”
“Please,” I whisper. “Can we go inside? I–”
“No,” Logan snaps.
“Logan,” Myra says again. “I think she’s okay.”
“She could be working with Kane.”
Myra freezes. “What?”
Logan nods. “That’s right. I heard from him last week. He had this whole new scheme on how to…”
He doesn’t finish, but Myra’s face pales. A scheme. Could he have been talking about my dad? Finding me?
“I might be–I mean, I know who Kane is,” I say. I gasp when Logan’s fingers tighten. “It’s not–it’s not because I’m working with him, I swear. He–he was going to kill my dad.”
“Prove it.”
I glance at Myra and say, “I’m the Keeper of the Flame.”
Logan’s face registers shock. He covers it quickly, but his hands loosen completely before finally falling away.
“What’s the Keeper of the Flame?” Myra asks.
“Let’s talk to her first, then we’ll see.”
“No. Tell me.” Myra pulls on his arm. “Tell me what that means.”
He sighs, lowering his chin. “If she’s telling the truth, she might be someone who can help you.”
Myra looks to me for confirmation.
I nod. “I can. I’ve done it before. I know how to help you, and that’s what I came here to do. I promise.”
She pulls out her keys and unlocks the door. “Then let’s go inside.”
The apartment looks like Myra. Comfortable and classy and full of jewel tones that make me want to sink down on the couch and relax with Logan. To get him to open up to me.
But he doesn’t sit.
In her usual way, Myra pours me wine and rummages up food and makes sure I have what I need. I have to stop myself time and time again from blurting out everything. They let me call my mom to tell her to go back to the hotel, but Logan still keeps a watchful eye on me.
He continues to stand while I sit, and stays close to the door. In case I try to run for it, I guess. He has no idea, but it would take everything he has to make me leave. I plan on getting through to them tonight.
I plan on showing Logan he can trust me.
When Myra goes for the kitchen again, Logan catches her arm. “Stop, Myra. You don’t have to feed everyone.”
“Yes, she does,” I say quietly.
Logan’s eyes move to mine. “What?”
“It’s what she does.” Myra angles her head at me. “I…there are a lot of things I’m going to tell you that you won’t believe. But I swear they’re all true. I know you. Both of you. We were…” I keep it simple for now. “Friends.”
“How is that? I’ve never seen you before in my life,” Logan says.
“Magic.”
“What kind of magic?” Myra asks.
“The really powerful kind. The kind that can cure cancer. The kind that can take away vampire powers for good. The kind that can erase memories and erase time. We did know each other, but it couldn’t be that way anymore.”
Logan huffs out a laugh. “I don’t believe you.”
I hold out my hand, letting flames spurt from my fingers. Logan jumps in front of Myra, blocking her.
“I won’t hurt you,” I tell them again.
“You’d better not,” Logan says.
The passion in his voice makes me smile. I let the flames go out.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“It’s not funny, it’s just–you care about Myra. And I know you’ll do anything to take care of her.”
“You don’t know me,” Logan says quietly.
“But I do. You were going to come look for me, too.” He narrows his eyes. “I’m Willow.”
His expression doesn’t change, but I can tell he recognizes my name.
“Maybe one of your friends helped you out, trying to find another way to cure Myra’s cancer?”
His jaw clenches.
“What’s she talking about?” Myra asks.
Logan barely glances at her. “She’s obviously a spy–or she really is working for Kane.”
“I’m not working for him,” I say, heat in my voice. I stand, but before I can take a step, Logan’s blocking my way.
“Don’t move.”
“I’m not helping Kane, okay? I know what he’s capable of. I watched him hurt people I care about. He hurt me, too, and he tried to…” I breathe slowly, trying to stop the tears that are threatening. “The point is, I know you because we met before. Like I said, we were friends. We helped each other.”
Logan frowns. “I think we’d remember if we met you.”
I face Myra. “You want to own your own bakery. You make the best lemon blueberry scones I’ve ever tasted.”
Her eyes widen.
“You used to play with Kane and Logan in your backyard in Shadow Hill, running around the rosebushes. And Logan would take care of you when Kane was mean–”
“Stop,” Logan says.
“You have a witch friend. Morgan,” I say. “She cares about you, but you’re not interested in her. You just want her to help. And you also know enough about the kind of magic she can do to know that what I’m saying just might be possible.”
“I said, that’s enough.”
Myra steps around Logan, appealing to him. “If she can make fire like that, maybe she’s telling the truth. Maybe we just don’t remember. Maybe she can help me.”
“And maybe she’ll hurt you,” Logan says.
“I won’t.” I hold out my hands in a non-threatening gesture. “I promised I’d help you. I promised I’d make things right.”
“Promised who?” Myra asks.
“You,” I whisper. I meet Logan’s eyes. “Both of you. And myself.”
Myra touches Logan’s arm. “I want to know what she’s talking about. All of it.”
“It’s late,” he says. He glances at her. “You’re tired. This is too much right now.”
“I’ll go,” I say.
Logan doesn’t move out of my way.
“I’ll come back when you’re ready. Here’s my number.” I pull a paper from my pocket. “It’s also got the name of the hotel where I’m staying in case you need to get hold of me there.”
Myra takes it from me, nudging Logan at the same time. “Come on. Let her go.”
Logan steps back, still keeping his eyes on me. He follows to me to the door, opening it. He catches my arm before I leave.
“I hope you’re not lying to us. Myra doesn’t need that. She doesn’t need someone to get her hopes up just to be let down.”
I angle back. It takes every ounce of in
ner strength I have not to reach out and touch his cheek. He looks just as tired as Myra, with that shadow of doubt in his eyes I remember from a few times in the past. I also remember how sweet he can be, and how many times he told me he loved me, and I want that part of us back with every fiber of my being. I don’t want to leave tonight, but it’s best.
“I promise you, Logan. I will help Myra if you let me. She’ll be cured. And we can stop Kane, too. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, whenever you want to know it, and I’ll prove to you that you can trust me.”
He gives a curt nod. “We’ll see.”
Then he shuts the door.
When Myra invites me back to her house the next day, promising Logan won’t be there for a while, I take her up on the opportunity. I bring Faye as well. And together, over a fresh pile of scones, I tell her the whole story.
Minus some of the steamier parts about me and Logan. In fact, I barely say anything about how serious we were. It feels too personal when Logan doesn’t even know.
“I feel like you’re telling the truth,” Myra says once we finish, “but it’s a crazy story. It’s…I really had my own bakery?”
I smile. “Yes.”
“What else?”
I pull in a slow breath, glancing at Faye. “I don’t want to say too much. I want you to experience these things for yourself. But you were happy in Shadow Hill. We were friends.”
“And friends with the werewolf, too?” she asks, wrinkling her nose. “And a shapeshifter?”
I laugh. “Yes, despite what history says we should be to each other, we were friends. We were allies first, but then friends.”
“Except you and Logan. You were more.”
“We were…” I sigh. Everything. We were everything.
He chooses that moment to walk through the front door. When he sees me and Faye, he frowns at Myra. “What are they doing here?” Then he does a double-take at Faye. “Do I know you?”
She nods. “We’ve seen each other around Shadow Hill.”
“You’re the witch.”
“One of them. And Willow’s my daughter.”
He lifts a brow. “Your daughter? Don’t tell me you came back from the future, too.”
Faye only smiles calmly. “No. I had to hear all about this just like you. But unlike you, I know Willow’s telling the truth. And that means we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
“‘We’? I don’t think so. Myra, you should have waited for me to get home before inviting them over here.”
She stands. “I’m going to try it.”
“Try what?”
“What Willow said will help.”
He looks at me. “And what’s what?”
I swallow, knowing he isn’t going to like this part. “I sort of have to…use the fire.”
“You’re going to set her on fire?” He laughs. “I knew this sounded ridiculous. It’s probably better if you go now.”
“She’s not lying,” Faye says.
“Listen.” Logan gathers his words, and I recognize the fight for patience on his face. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but I don’t want you to come back. It’s better–”
“No, it’s not,” Myra says. “Show him, Willow.”
My gaze snaps to hers. “What?”
“Show him you can heal.”
“I…Okay.” I stand slowly, feeling Logan’s eyes on me as I walk to their kitchen. “A knife?”
“In the drawer.” He jerks his chin to the one under the cutting board.
Myra runs into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean on you. Not with a knife. Willow–”
I cut hard into my palm, biting my lip against the pain.
“Shit.” Logan turns to the counter, fumbling through a drawer for a towel. “Why’d you do that?”
The blood wells up right away. I set the knife aside, ignoring the throbbing in my hand. “See?” I say, holding it out and trying not to drip blood on the floor. “It’s deep.”
Logan curses again. “Yeah, I can see that. Why the hell–”
I will the fire to bloom in my hand. The flames start slowly, flickering like I’ve lit a small candle. I feel the skin moving beneath it, stitching itself together. Then I let the flames subside.
Reaching for the towel Logan holds, I wipe the rest of the blood away. He steps closer. Then his eyes narrow. After a moment, he snatches my hand and peers at it. His fingers send tingles of warmth through me.
When he looks up, we lock eyes.
“It’s gone,” I tell him.
Myra clasps her hands together. “You did it. That was disgusting.”
Logan releases me, taking away the warmth of his fingers. I ignore the swift kick of hurt that brings me.
“Okay,” he says slowly, turning to Myra. “But a cut is a whole different thing than cancer.”
Myra lifts her chin. “And I’m dying. No, don’t tell me to stop, Logan. You know it and I know it. I can feel it eating through me. Most days I don’t even want to get out of bed. If this is an option, I think we should take it.”
“What if you get hurt?”
“I’m already hurt,” she murmurs.
His face twists. I can see how much her being sick does to him. How much it hurts him, too.
I touch his forearm, wrapping my fingers around the smooth strength of it. “It’ll work. I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve done it before. It worked last time and Myra was fine.”
“Please, Logan,” Myra says.
Faye appears in the doorway. “I can vouch for her. She’s done this before. Myra’s safe in Willow’s hands.”
She takes Myra’s arm and leads her out of the kitchen to the couch. I start to follow, but Logan steps in my path.
“If you do anything–anything–to hurt her–”
“I know,” I say. “I also know how relieved both of you are going to feel once this is over.”
I ease around him and stop a few feet from where Myra’s sitting. “I think I’d better show you what this is going to be like first.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean…I’m going to be on fire. And then you are, too. It’s controlled, but it looks scary. I promise it won’t hurt.”
“Show me,” Logan says.
Turning, I assess him. He’s wearing dark jeans and a black shirt. He looks dangerous. He also smells like Logan. In a moment, I’ll touch him, and he’ll feel like the man I fell in love with. I want to yank him to me and kiss him. Hug him. Insist he remember me. But rushing him might ruin it all.
“You have to keep an open mind. Stay steady,” I order.
He nods.
I reach for his hands. There’s that instant spark I always used to feel when we touched. His eyes flash to mine, and then down to our hands. He feels it, too.
Encouraged, I squeeze his fingers. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
I let the fire start slowly, let it burn my hands first. Then I give it a soft nudge and it travels to his hands, consuming them. His lips part, but he doesn’t say anything.
“You all right?” I ask.
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“Tingles, right?”
He nods, and meets my gaze again.
“It’ll be like this, but all over,” I tell him. “So, you have to wait, give it a chance to work. You can’t jump in and try to stop me to save her or else we’ll have to do it all over again. Got it?”
He narrows his eyes at me, like he’s trying to read my thoughts. I wish he could, wish he would. He could influence me right now–or try to. He could find out if I’m telling the truth.
Then he pulls his hands away. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
I make Myra stand in front of me so we’re clear of the furniture, just in case. I’ve never caught anything else on fire unless I intended to, but still, I don’t want to scare anyone. And just like last time, Myra is unafraid. She stands still even as the fire travels up her arms and to her shoulders.
Logan hov
ers just behind her, either ready to pull her out of harm’s way or ready to attack me if I do anything shady.
“Almost,” I say as the fire covers more area. “Just hang on, Myra.”
“I’m fine,” she breathes. “I can feel it.”
Since the nausea has started to hit me, I can only nod. It was the same way last time. It consumes me, just like the fire. And when I finally release her hands, I can barely stand. The room spins around me.
Faye’s already there, taking my arm. “Okay, easy now. Sit down.”
I almost fall into the closest chair, startling Myra.
“Willow!”
I wave my hand at her. “The same thing happened last time.” I roll my eyes when Logan stares at me. “Yeah, I know–” My breath hitches. “You don’t believe there was a last time. Okay, hold on…”
I drop my forehead to my knees, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
“What’s happening?” Myra asks.
“She’s feeling what you felt,” Faye says. “All the sickness, every bit of it, was taken into her. It’ll pass.”
“Oh, Willow…” Myra begins.
“It’s fine,” I say, my voice muffled by my knees. I feel like I got hit by a truck. “How do you feel?”
I don’t get to see the wonder on her face, but I know it’s there. “I feel better. No, I feel perfect. I haven’t felt like this in…a long time.”
“Myra,” Logan says cautiously. “We don’t know that it worked.”
“I believe that it did.”
“We’re not going to know for sure until you see the doctor again. Or maybe not for a while after that.”
“It worked,” I say quietly. “I can feel it.”
“Me too.” Myra laughs, then kneels at my side. “What can I do? Crackers or…water?”
“Water,” I mumble.
She dances her way to the kitchen, and I risk looking up. Logan’s staring at me. But not with suspicion this time. It’s wonder. It’s amazement.
I will him to say something. To walk over to me and take my hand. Anything. But he doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself.
And maybe it’s better that way. Because this isn’t it. I’m not here just to help Myra, I’m here to get them to believe me, too. Then I need them to come with me back to Shadow Hill.