Burned (Keeper of the Flame) (3 page)

“I’m having a hard time convincing myself you
shouldn’t.”

He sets his hand on my thigh again. I exhale
when he slides it a little farther, glancing toward the front of
the building where James is occupied with a phone call.

“Did you convince yourself yet?” he asks,
eyes dropping to my lips.

“Sorry.” I clear my throat because it doesn’t
sound convincing if I can’t even get the words out. “Not this
time.”

Logan drops his chin for a moment, then pulls
back. “Probably a good idea. I think you only need one bandage.” He
touches his fingertip to the deepest scrape. “Right here.”

I let him put the bandage on in silence. When
he finally does speak, he says, “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“You’re here researching and I’m…” He gives a
wicked grin. “Trying to distract you.”

“What’s life without a little fun?” I ask,
standing.

But I
was
distracted. And pretty
tempted to take a detour wherever Logan wanted me to go. That isn’t
going to help me figure out where my mom is or why I’m supposed to
be here. And it definitely isn’t safe for him considering my
history with getting intimate.

He invades my space, sliding his hands from
my shoulders all the way down my arms to grasp my hands. “I think
we should go out.”

“Go out where?”

“On a date. Wherever you want.”

“The Shadow Hill Hotel.”

I have the satisfaction of seeing his
eyebrows lift before his face relaxes into a grin. “I’m not going
to say no to that.”

“For research,” I tell him, stepping
back.

“Always a catch.” He gathers the items to
return them to the first aid kit. “I can handle that, though.”

“I need to get a feel for the place. I might
be able to use it in an article.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to look around. Tonight? I
could pick you up at six so we have some daylight before dinner in
their restaurant.”

“Dinner?”

“I want a date, you want research. I think
it’s a good compromise. The wine will help you relax.” He grins.
“And make you more open to the spirits.”

“So you’re saying the hotel is haunted?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you think when we
get there?”

I shrug. “It’s a date. I’m at the motel over
on Blake. You know it?”

“Yep. What room?”

“217.”

He follows me to the door.

“You don’t have to walk me out.”

“You’re not running anymore?”

I peer outside, scanning the street for Ryan.
I don’t see him or the librarian. “All clear.”

He props his hand on the wall beside me. “You
going to tell me what that was all about?”

I flash a smile. “Maybe after the wine helps
me relax.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

I leave and realize I’m holding my breath.
Hold me to it. He can say that, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to
comply. The last time I let the flames come out, a guy I was dating
was trying to take our relationship a little too far. He’d gone to
the hospital with severe burns on his arms.

Getting intimate with someone is a bad idea.
I don’t know if something might happen again. I blow out a breath.
But this is research. And as long as Logan keeps his distance, I’ll
get wine and some information. Not a bad combo in my book.

~ ~ ~

Back in my motel room, I shove my hands in my
hair and do a slow turn. Something’s wrong. It’s not the door,
which was locked just as I left it. It’s not the curtains, which
are still open from when I’d whipped them to the side once the Book
of Shadows started going through pages on its own.

My gaze travels to the desk where I’d left
the book. There’s nothing there.

I walk over, touch the spot I left as if
that’s magically going to give me answers. Then I duck down to look
under the desk. Finally, I do a quick sweep of the room just in
case. But I’m not worried the book somehow moved itself to another
location. I’m worried
someone
moved it.

Or stole it.

Grabbing my room key, I jog outside, down the
stairs and to the front office. There’s a middle-aged man inside
reading a familiar UFO magazine. I wrote an article for them
once.

“Excuse me,” I say.

He looks up. “Can I help you, miss?”

“Was there someone in my room today?”

“The maid probably. Oh, and there’s a crew on
site preparing to renovate some rooms in our main building. But
they shouldn’t have been in your room.”

Bullshit. Someone was in there. But I can’t
accuse someone if I don’t have proof. I change tactics. “I was
thinking about doing some renovations myself. I might have to take
a look at their work and talk to whoever’s in charge. Do you know
who that would be?”

“Ahh…” He flips through some papers on his
desk, then swivels to a file cabinet behind him. There are more
papers on top and he checks them before turning back to me. “Ryan
McCord.”

Ryan. I grit my teeth. I’m not surprised.

I force a smile. “Thanks.”

I walk back to my room, mind racing with
scenarios to confront him. Most of which involve setting something
on fire. Preferably him.

If I knew more about my witch history, or had
a Book of Shadows, I’d do a spell. But a good old-fashioned
break-in might have to suffice.

Logan already thinks I’m a felon, so I’m
almost tempted to tell him how I think Ryan stole my book and
involve him in my crazy scheme to break into Ryan’s house. But
logic gets the best of me, and I decide against it.

Even worse than being a felon is getting
caught, and I don’t know Logan well enough yet to believe he’d keep
my secret, let alone be my accomplice.

He picks me up on time, dressed to match my
sleeveless black dress. I don’t know why I brought it, but a girl
never knows when she’s going to need something fancy. Ghost hunting
sometimes requires a specific kind of attire.

The heels put me closer to Logan’s height,
enough that I’m staring at his eyes instead of his lips when I step
out the door.

He smells like the woods, something dark and
inviting. Mysterious. It’s hard not to lean in for more.

Logan scoops his arm around my waist, turning
his mouth so it brushes my hair. “I’m rethinking dinner.”

“Can’t. I’m on assignment.”

“Really?”

I nod.

He narrows his gaze. “Really? You’re actually
writing an article? That wasn’t just a story?”

I laugh, nudging him away from me. “No. I
told you I’m a freelance writer. If I find an angle here, I might
have a story. A story means getting paid. And if I plan on staying
in Shadow Hill for a while, I need money.”

“So you’re planning on staying?”

My heels click on the stairs as we descend to
the parking lot. I consider my answer. More than a story, I need to
find my mom. I shouldn’t be researching before I find out more
about her, but I’m not sure where to look. And talking to Ryan
doesn’t seem to be helping.

“I’m planning on staying long enough to get a
story,” I amend. “I don’t know how long that will take.”

He opens his car door for me and the smell of
his cologne follows me inside. I breathe slowly while he walks
around to the other side and gets in again, flashing me a smile. My
stomach tightens when he reaches for the stick shift and his hand
grazes my leg.

The fire stays buried inside.

I can’t say it’s going to stay there, which
is why spending time with Logan, especially when his dark eyes
collide with mine, is a bad thing. I’m getting pretty good at
convincing myself bad is sometimes good, though.

Logan starts the car and backs out. “You look
amazing, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

He checks the street before pulling out. “Do
you always bring something like that when you research?”

I glance down at the tight black dress and
quirk one corner of my lips. “I find I get more answers this
way.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want,” he says,
voice low. “Right now.”

I smile. “I want to know about…wolves.”

His hand tightens so hard on the stick shift
I see his knuckles turn white. He’s lost the cocky smile and now a
muscle works in his jaw.

“I guess I need a better dress,” I say,
intrigued. Logan knows something.

“No.” He clears his throat with a sly glance
at me. “I just didn’t know how…acquainted you were with local
folklore.”

“You mean wolves in Shadow Hill are a legend?
Because I’m pretty sure I saw one my first night here.”

He shifts smoothly and points to our right.
“There’s a nice hike that way if you want to get out and enjoy the
beginning of the summer. The path is pretty dry.”

There are trees with bright green leaves
guarding a path I can only partially make out. Aspens and pines
rise up the hill. It’s backed by a mountain that’s still capped
with snow.

“Not a terrible distraction technique,” I
tell him. “But I still want to know. Are there wolves around here?
Is that really what I saw?”

“Is that what you think you saw?”

I angle in the seat to face him. His profile
is serious. “I saw sharp teeth. I didn’t study the markings or
anything. I was mostly trying to stay alive.”

He smiles. “Probably a good call on your
part.”

“Still not answering my question.”

“There have been a few wolf sightings in
Shadow Hill. That might be what you saw.”

I leave out the fact the wolf was in the
house and I have no idea how it got in.

Logan points again. “There. Shadow Hill
Hotel.”

It looks like a mansion from a tragic love
story. Or maybe a ghost story. What I can see of it is old,
stately, almost dark. It’s surrounded by trees and backs up to the
mountain.

“There’s a burial ground not too far from the
main building. The Hill family buried their own there, but there
are some unmarked graves no one knows where they came from.”

Logan downshifts, turns us onto the road to
the hotel and smiles at me before his eyes do a slow scan of my
bare legs. “Did I mention how much I like that dress?”

I laugh. “Once or twice.”

He parks in a lot on the side of the hotel
and comes to my side to open the door. He takes my hand to help me
out, and I wonder what kind of family he has. How someone in their
early twenties has developed so much charm and such good
manners.

Until he closes the door.

Then he reaches on either side of me to prop
his hands on the roof, boxing me in. His thighs brush mine.

“Willow,” he whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

I swallow, heat igniting in my stomach. I was
prepared to avoid advances, but it’s different when he flat out
asks me. And waits for my answer to make sure it’s okay.

“That might not be in your best interest,” I
whisper.

He traces one hand down my side and stops at
my thigh. “Are you married?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

“Just getting out of a relationship?”

I sigh. “No, but it’s complicated.”

“Meaning you’re not attracted to me.”

My throat dries. “I’m insanely attracted to
you.”

His hand curls around the back of my neck,
drawing me in. His mouth collides with mine, sparking heat and
desire. My hands fist in his jacket when his tongue brushes my
lower lip. My breath rushes out in a half-moan.

“This isn’t good,” I say against his mouth.
The flames start to flicker inside, but I can’t seem to stop.

His other hand traces my spine, all the way
down before he squeezes my hip. “This isn’t
good
?” he asks
with a laugh, lips brushing mine.

“No, I mean‒this.
This
,” I say,
pointing between him and I. I ease back, making the fire
subside.

His dark eyes find mine. “Your heart is
racing.”

It is. Thumping against my ribs like it’s
trapped. I press my hand against his chest. “I’m not the only
one.”

He closes his hand over mine, holding it
there. “It was just a kiss. No harm done.”

Tell that to my heart. I try to break his
gaze, but I can’t.

“There’s time, right?” he asks. His voice
lowers. “Because you’re staying for a while, like you said.”

I swallow, moistening my throat, speaking as
though the words aren’t my own. “I’m staying for a while.”

He flashes a smile and backs up. “Great. Then
let’s go in.”

He takes my hand, being gentle with the
scratches, and walks us to the building. Enormous stone columns
decorate the front. I can see people milling inside through the
huge windows. A few couples sit on the porch out front, holding
cocktails and talking.

We enter the wide double doors to the sound
of piano music. Someone is playing in the corner near a fireplace
that’s lit despite the warmth outside. A wide staircase sits across
from the door and it rises up in both directions to connect to a
balcony at the top.

“Fancy,” I murmur.

“You should see the suites upstairs.”

I glance over, a smile on my lips. “You stay
here a lot?”

“I’ve visited a few times. My family lived
here‒in Shadow Hill‒when I was younger. Part of the reason I moved
back.”

“That’s part of the reason I’m here, too,” I
say. “My mom lives here.”

He pauses at the base of the stairs. “Really?
So it’s not just research.”

I shrug. “That’s all it might be if she
doesn’t come back. I guess she’s out of town for a while.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t actually…seen her in
a long time. She probably doesn’t even know I’m here. And I don’t
know when she’ll be back.”

“Who’s your mom?” He smiles when I lift my
eyebrows. “It’s a small town. People talk. If anyone has heard
anything, they might be able to tell you.”

“Faye Donnelly.”

He thinks a minute and then shakes his head.
“Sorry, I don’t know her. But if I hear anything, I’ll let you
know.”