Autumn Storm (15 page)

The fire still burned too strong. He didn’t
bother with the valium tonight. Nothing was going to take the edge
off. The blood high wore down, followed by the sex high. He waited
for both to settle before taking a long shower.

He’d killed Light witchlings. There was no
going back.

Beck would know. As Master of Light, he’d
sense when a member of his herd was threatened by magick just as
Decker knew when a soul went bad. He let the hot water wash over
him then shut it off.

He had one more important thing to do before
his brother declared war on him for killing innocent witchlings.
Decker wiped his face, dried off quickly then dressed in dark
clothing. He’d wanted to visit the cliff all day to honor Summer,
only to have his efforts disturbed by call-outs and a certain blond
girl that kept appearing at all the wrong times. If Bartholomew was
right about the Darkness coming for him, there wouldn’t be another
anniversary. He had to go tonight.

Decker materialized on the cliff. His eyes
went first to the disturbed snow where he’d found the blond girl
earlier in the day, spouting nonsense about second chances and flat
out defying him. His gaze followed the footsteps that led her from
the forbidden corridor to the cliff. Her cane made little holes in
the snow, and he dwelled upon how strange it was that the girl who
stood up to him was the most fragile of anyone he’d met.

Small and slender, her blue eyes arrested
him the first time he saw them. There was something soulful there,
the knowledge of what it was to feel pain deeper than life. Her
body was toned despite her injuries and the pronounced limp. She
wore her blond curls down, and they framed her heart-shaped face.
Pillowy lips, delicate features …

The desire in his blood burned hot again at
the memory of her spirit. The blond girl hadn’t melted at his
seduction magick. She’d known she was in danger this night and
dared him to walk away. She’d been sharp but also innocent, her
blushes and timid kiss convincing him she’d probably never been
with anyone.

After Summer, he wasn’t about to be the
first for anyone else. He was purposely not thinking about how the
blond girl’s touch quieted the clamor of his head and repelled the
Darkness. What he felt now didn’t matter. He’d taken another step
towards the Darkness, one he didn’t think it was possible to
recover from.

Decker fingered the delicate ring he wore
next to his amulet. He’d given the promise ring with a pink
sapphire to Summer the day before she died. Guilt and sorrow filled
him. Today was supposed to be about Summer, and he was thinking
about – no,
desperate
to claim! – another girl.

If only he hadn’t returned to find her where
he stood now, slumped over her cane. The shadows told him how much
pain she was in. She wasn’t going to make it back to the school by
herself. She pissed him off – and intrigued him. Every interaction
with her left his body humming with awareness.

His mistake was carrying her back to the
school. Holding her against him opened a connection between them
that compelled him to stay when he should’ve left. He admired her
ability to master her mind. It made him want her more.

That kiss…

Anger replaced his guilt. Anger at Summer,
at himself, at the fragile blond girl that called out his
weakness.

She’s Beck’s,
he told himself again,
not wanting to be interested in any girl for more than physical
pleasure. He didn’t want to remember the girls he took to bed with
him. He’d been trying desperately to replace the memories of his
nights with Summer.

The more girls he slept with, the stronger
his memories of Summer. The release the women gave his body was too
temporary, and they did nothing to quell his mind, like Summer had.
He’d had an oasis with her, a place where the chorus in his head
was silent.

Like he did when he kissed the blond girl.
He’d be able to lose himself in her like he did Summer.

Bartholomew spoke.
You will only hurt
this other girl like you did Summer.

He was right. Ashamed at disrespecting
Summer on the anniversary of the day she died, Decker crouched at
the edge of the cliff and stared at where she’d fallen. He could
still see her there mentally, her broken body, the blood.

Summer was sweet, innocent, beautiful. The
love in her dark eyes had made him feel like a king, and her touch
subdued the part of him he no longer controlled. What would she
think if she saw him killing, sleeping around, fantasizing about
the blond girl, drinking and doing drugs to make it through the
day?

“I never deserved you, Summer,” he whispered
hoarsely. “Everything I touch turns Dark, even you. I’m so
sorry.”

Decker closed his eyes. There was no second
chance for him, despite what the blond told him. What did he do,
when the girl meant to be his mate was dead? It was his fault she’d
died. He’d live with that knowledge the rest of his life, unless he
surrendered to the madness to save himself and others. It was for
the best; it was the only way to avoid the pain he’d cause
everyone.

Yes,
Bartholomew’s voice agreed.

Decker sensed the sudden arrival of his
brother’s Light magick and tensed.

“I thought you’d be here tonight.”

“Leave me alone, Beck,” he said quietly.

“Her death was my fault, too.”

Decker opened his eyes and looked over his
shoulder at his twin. Beck was dressed warmly. He glowed in the
night, his Light magick creating a halo around his body.

“You didn’t push her off the cliff,” Decker
snapped.

“I didn’t protect her from you, either.
That’s my duty, Decker. I didn’t do it, and she died.”

Decker ‘s eyes settled on the spot where
Summer landed in the canyon.

“You’re out of control,” Beck added.

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

“Can you just give me tonight?” Decker
snarled.

There was a pause. He sensed Beck
hesitate.

“Please, Beck,” he added, a raw note in his
voice. “We can fight in the morning.”

“Okay, Decker.”

Decker sighed.

“Can I stay with you?” Beck asked.

“Yeah.”

The snow beneath Beck’s boots crunched as he
approached. He knelt beside Decker, and they both stared into
Miner’s Drop. Decker glanced at his brother, not expecting the
pensive, penetrating look Beck gave the canyon. It was almost as if
Summer’s death actually meant something to him, too.

He shouldn’t be surprised. Summer was
perfect. She touched the lives of everyone. He shouldn’t feel a
streak of jealousy for a dead girl, either. He rolled his
shoulders, comforted by his twin’s presence. They’d grown up
together, rarely out of each other’s sights. The past few weeks at
a new school had left him isolated. He was surprised to realize he
missed his brother.

He couldn’t get drawn in, though. Soon, the
Darkness was coming to claim him. He needed that distance between
him and everyone else.

“Biji keeps asking about you,” Beck
said.

Decker smiled at the mention of Summer’s
fiery best friend.

“Why don’t you go see her?”

“No,” Decker replied. “I have an effect on
girls. I don’t want that for Biji.”
She’s all that remains of
Summer,
he added silently.

“She’s the only one who really knows what
happened the night Summer died. Well, aside from Sam, who probably
won’t talk anyway. It might help you. Closure or something.”

Decker was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure
I want to know. It doesn’t matter, does it? I mean, Summer is dead.
I don’t want to expose Biji to …me.”

“You’re probably right. Girls just throw
themselves at you,” Beck said with a small laugh. “I’m jealous, but
that’s not healthy. Maybe if you figure out how to control your
seduction thing, you can go see Biji.”

Decker shrugged. “I’m fine with not knowing
and all the girls. You’ve got little blondie anyway.”

Beck said nothing. He tensed, though. It
wasn’t usual for Beck to consider girls as more than
playthings.

“Don’t worry. I walked away, for the most
part,” Decker said, amused his brother might be jealous.

“Because I interfered before you sank your
claws into her.”

“Not tonight, you didn’t. I found her here
again.”

Beck stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“No. Standing on the edge, looking into the
canyon. Almost like she knew,” Decker said thoughtfully. “Maybe
someone told her.”

“Dammit,” Beck muttered. “I suck at this
protector shit.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t have anyone to
teach you how and what to do,” Decker countered, protective of his
brother without wanting to be. “Like I said, not much happened.
She’s tough enough to face me.”

“Define
not much.
” Beck’s voice held
a note of anger.

“You like her that much?” Decker asked,
jealousy spiking.

“Stay away from this one, Decker.”

“Or what?” he bristled.

“Don’t you think she’s suffered enough? I
mean, what if every halfway decent girl you touch ends up at the
bottom of a canyon?”

Decker flinched as his brother voiced his
own fear.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,”
Beck’s said softly. “I admire her a lot for what she’s been
through. She’s a good girl. She doesn’t need either of us in her
life.”

“She needs someone like you maybe. Not me,”
Decker said grudgingly, trying to convince himself of the words. He
wanted her so bad. “There’s something about her … I can’t place it.
I can’t read her, either.”

“Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t,” Beck
replied. “Look, I messed up with Summer. Walk away from this one.
For me, if nothing else.”

Decker hesitated then nodded. “I’ll
try.”

“You didn’t tell me what
not much
means.”

“A kiss. Nothing else.”

“You don’t just kiss girls, Decker. You
don’t have that much control.”

Decker rolled his eyes. “I got a call-out. I
walked away.”

Beck was growing tenser. “What would Summer
think?”

Decker said nothing, hating himself. He
betrayed Summer. Now Beck knew how weak he was as well.

“Walk away from her, Decker.”

He glanced at his twin, not liking how
serious Beck was. There was something more to this girl. Maybe Beck
was in love with her? Decker didn’t feel guilt; he felt fury
building. He suppressed it.

“She’s in a lot of pain, Beck,” he managed
to say in a calm voice. “I don’t think she knows how to ask for
help.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Beck said
sarcastically.

“The difference is that no one
can
help me.” Decker saddened. “No one but Summer. And look how I
screwed that up.”

“
We
screwed that up.”

“Whatever.”

“I’ll do better taking care of Autumn,” Beck
added.

“Autumn? That’s her name?” Decker raised an
eyebrow.

“I know, right? We’re cursed.”

Decker shook his head. At least he knew
never to get involved with a girl named after a season. They were
dangerous. They made him
feel
when he wanted to be numb and
surrender to the Darkness.

His eyes went to his hands. He recalled the
look on Autumn’s face when he held them up, and warmth crept up his
neck. He honestly hadn’t wanted to scare her, especially now that
he knew she was the only one who understood what real pain was. The
Darkness had crept upon him, though, when they stood here on the
cliff. It was harder and harder to control it, the few times he
wanted to.

“How many tonight?” Beck asked in a hushed
voice.

Decker shrugged.

“Decker, I know you killed innocent Light
witchlings.”

“In the morning, Beck. Just be my brother
tonight.”

“I’m always your brother. I worry about you
more than you’ll ever know.”

“Thanks,” Decker said. Desolation crept into
him. One day, he knew he’d be at odds with Beck. It was the nature
of their duties: Light and Dark needed one another but were in a
constant struggle. One day, he’d lose Beck, too, when the madness
took him.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, he had his
brother. Tomorrow was a different story. Beck was going to tell him
not to kill Light witchlings. If Decker wanted the Darkness to
consume him, he’d have to kill more of them. Their battle was about
to begin.

Autumn. A fitting name for the girl who came
during the part of his life when he was trying to die.

Despite his claim not to care, he began to
agree with Beck that knowing what happened the night Summer died
might help him. Somehow. He wasn’t certain how.

It won’t help you,
Bartholomew
disagreed.
It might tarnish how you think of her.

Those words made Decker vow not to ask Biji
ever. Summer was the only bright spot in his life. He wasn’t sure
he’d be able to handle discovering what she might’ve done. After
all, she’d still be dead, and he’d still be responsible.

As usual, Bartholomew was right.