Burned (Keeper of the Flame) (9 page)

He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh.
“I’d appreciate your smart ass comments more if you were working
with me instead of against me.”

“I’ll work with you if you let me go.”

“Liar.”

“Logan, come on‒”

“I don’t have time for this.” He turns on his
heel and walks out of the room, shutting the door before I can run
to it. I hear a lock slide into place.

“Logan!” I bang my fists against the
wood.

His footsteps move away from the door and I
put my forehead to the surface. Now I don’t even have my mother’s
book. I’m prepared to look for a weapon when I hear Logan’s
footsteps return.

I step from the door when the lock clicks. He
walks in, a syringe in hand. “Now, be good and sit down.”

“What the hell is that?” And where’s a weapon
when I need one?

“Something to help you calm down.” He moves
toward me. “I need to get to town for a bit, and I can’t have you
plotting your escape while I’m away. Besides that, you need to
rest. Get some sleep tonight and then we can get to work on the
spell tomorrow.”

I hold up a hand to ward him off. “I’ll get
some rest. I promise. You don’t need to do anything.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Maybe because I just swung a book at his
head. Maybe because I kneed him in the balls back at the car. But
still, he’s a vampire felon‒it was justified.

“Sit down,” he says.

“Logan.”

“Willow, stop trying to negotiate with me.
You’ll feel better after this is done and we can get on with
things.”

My heart bangs against my chest when he
advances on me, taking my arm and trying to get me to sit on the
bed. I swing at the syringe, but he catches my wrist. He moves too
fast for me to stop him, pinning my arms above my head with a steel
grip, and pressing his legs against mine.

“Just one minute.” He poises the needle over
my arm. “Don’t tense up, it’ll hurt more.”

“Logan,” I choke out. “Please, I don’t even
know what’s going on.”

Something about my words or in my voice makes
him pause. A muscle works in his jaw before he says, “About
what?”

“The full moon. Why I have to be here, in
Shadow Hill.”

He doesn’t loosen his grip, but he does let
the syringe hang by his side. “I figured as much. Your mom thought
she was keeping you safe, but really she was just letting you sit
in the dark. There’s a lot you need to know, Willow, and there will
be time to learn it all.”

“Then tell me,” I say, unable to stop my gaze
from straying to the needle.

“Soon enough.” He lifts the needle again.
“Maybe you should close your eyes or look away or something.”

“No, Logan‒”

The metal touches my arm.

Then flames erupt. His sleeve is on fire and
he straightens, jerking his arm back and forth. He growls something
I can’t make out, jabs me with the needle and then releases me.

I scoot back on the bed as he tries to put
the flames out. I’m so surprised I’d conjured the fire, I forget
for a minute I should be running.

I slide off the bed and my knees give out.
Clutching the bedpost for support, my gaze is drawn by the blur of
flame as Logan pats his arm. My feet don’t want to move, but I
force them to take steps to the door. The room swims around me and
I sway. The door feels like it’s miles away.

“Willow,” Logan says. He’s in front of me
now, surprisingly unharmed. His eyes are like midnight and his jaw
is tight. “That was impressive but useless. Save your power for
later.”

My mouth won’t form the words I want it to.
Screw off. That’s what I want to say. But my body goes boneless and
I start to fall.

Logan catches me smoothly as the corners of
my vision get hazy. He lifts me easily and carries me to the bed
again. When he sets me down, he reaches to my feet. He’s gentle
when he takes off my shoes and pulls the covers over me.

As I drift into unconsciousness, I hear him
say, “See you tomorrow.”

~ ~ ~

When I wake again, the room is alight from
the sun. I squint and then blink a few times while the room comes
into focus. It’s morning.

Which means I slept the whole night. Today is
Sunday.

And tonight is the full moon.

This realization is enough to get me to my
feet. I steady myself with the bedpost before walking to the
bathroom and splashing water on my face. When I look at my
reflection, I see hair tumbling wildly in thick waves, reaching
halfway down my back. There are a few scratches on my cheeks from
racing through the woods and being attacked by branches. And
there’s a bruise on my arm from the needle.

When I get out of here, Logan is going
down.

I turn from the mirror. Now I have to figure
out how to get out of here.

I check the door just in case but find it’s
still locked. I listen for several moments, but don’t hear anything
outside or downstairs. Either Logan isn’t home or he’s being his
usual stealthy self.

Blowing out a breath, I sit at the chaise
lounge near the window, searching my brain for
something‒anything‒to help. The book isn’t up here. But…

I remember the last thing I read in it. A
spell to contact someone. I fumble in my pocket and pull out the
business card Ryan gave me. My stomach swirls with relief and worry
at the same time. This is my chance to get help, but I have no idea
if it’ll work.

Cupping my hands around the card, I picture
Ryan. His gray eyes and the spray of stubble on his jaw. I picture
him sitting at the table in his kitchen, eating breakfast or
reading the paper.

My body feels like it’s yanked from Logan’s
home and dropped into Ryan’s kitchen. I’m so close to the table, I
wobble and try not to fall over. I swivel, looking around.

I’m in Ryan’s house. But he’s not in the
kitchen. Taking a steadying breath, I leave the kitchen and search
the hall. Then the living room. And then upstairs. He’s nowhere to
be found. I jog back downstairs, feeling light and quick, and reach
for the curtain at the front window.

My hands are transparent, and I can see right
through them. “Holy shit,” I whisper.

Then I force myself to focus, trying to peer
through the window since I can’t move the curtains.

I don’t see Ryan’s truck outside. Which means
he might have already left to meet me. Now what?

It takes me a minute to figure out how to
leave Ryan’s house, but then I just picture Logan’s bedroom and I
feel like I’m floating away from my place by the door. When I open
my eyes, I’m sitting on the lounge chair again.

I exhale. It worked. I didn’t find Ryan, but
it worked.

The business card is still curled in my hand,
so I concentrate on it again, this time picturing Ryan himself. I
need to find him, and if he’s at my motel, he’s about to figure out
I’m not there.

When my body floats to him, I discover he’s
parking his car outside the motel. I’m in the passenger seat, and I
turn to him, hoping he can see me.

He doesn’t even glance my way, just puts the
truck in gear and hops out. Crap. I reach for the handle, but my
fingers go right through it. I watch as Ryan looks around, probably
for my car, and frowns. He looks up to the second floor and then
jogs to my room. He bangs on the door, loud enough for me to hear
from inside his car. When I don’t answer, he swears and bangs
again. Finally, he gives up and jogs down the stairs, heading for
the office.

I try the handle once more. My fingers nudge
the metal, and I straighten. Maybe I can get this to work. Before I
can wrap my entire hand around the handle, Ryan comes out of the
office. He looks confused, like he might really believe I left last
night.

When he hops in the car again, I say his
name.

He pauses, key in the ignition. I reach out
and brush his arm with my fingertips, grateful when I make the
connection. His head whips in my direction. His eyes widen and I
know he can see me.

“What the hell?”

“Ryan. I need help.”

He reaches out, hand going through my arm,
and jerks back. “Willow…what’s going on?”

“Help,” I say, struggling with speaking. I
don’t know why it’s hard for me to tell him. It’s like my voice
isn’t strong enough. “I’m still in Shadow Hill.”

I feel my body waver, like it’s trying to
pull away.

“Willow.” Ryan reaches for me again. He looks
worried now. “Where are you? How are you doing this?”

I open my mouth to speak, to tell him I’m at
Logan’s, but I’m whisked away, vanishing from his car and opening
my eyes to the bedroom. There’s a sound at the door, like someone
undoing the lock. My heart races and I quickly stuff the card in my
back pocket before the door opens.

And when it does, Logan’s standing there with
a lazy grin.

“Morning,” he says, strolling inside.

I don’t try to run for it. He’ll be expecting
it now. No, now I have to bide my time. I’ll wait until later when
he thinks he’s won. And then I’ll try to contact Ryan again. I’ll
tell him where I am, that Logan is behind it all, and figure out
how to get out of here.

The necklace is still in my pocket. If Selena
gave it to me, maybe it can help somehow.

So I grit my teeth and try to figure out how
to be nice to Logan when all I want to do is kick him in the groin.
When he closes the door behind him, I fold my arms.

His hair is mussed at the top, as though he’s
either just gotten up or run his hands through it a dozen times.
But he looks rested, even upbeat.

“Is this your bedroom?” I ask.

He nods. “I figured if I was going to keep
you here, I should at least give you the best accommodations.”

“You’re so thoughtful.”

Logan laughs and walks to me. “That’s what I
like about you, Willow. Sarcasm even in the midst of a bad
situation. You and I are more alike than you think.”

“Hmm, doubtful. Am I vampire? No. Have I ever
kidnapped anyone?” I tilt my head like I’m really thinking about
it. “No. Do I have an evil plan to take over the entire town of
Shadow Hill? Going to have to go with no on that one, too.”

He chuckles. “Feisty. I like it. My plan
isn’t evil. My motives are not as bad as you think. Besides, it’s
putting things back to how they’re supposed to be. You should want
that, too. Our bloodline wasn’t the only one who suffered. Yours
did, too.”

“What?”

“The curse diluted everyone’s powers and made
us less than what we really are. You’re more powerful than you
think, Willow. And after tonight, I’m willing to bet you’ll feel
all that power inside of you. You’ll be able to do things you never
thought you could do.”

Like control the fire. Control the thing
keeping me from getting close to anyone. I swallow and push the
idea aside. I can’t think like that. If Logan gets all his power
back, who knows what he’ll do? And what about any other paranormal
being around here? Cheyenne. Does that mean she’ll be more
powerful, too?

If she was trying to get me to leave as well,
she clearly doesn’t want that power.

And neither do I.
Do
I?

Logan takes another step closer and crouches
in front of me. “See? You’re thinking about it. You’ve seen some of
that power with the fire you can conjure. Imagine if it were ten
times that.” He reaches out, touching my knee. “One hundred times
that.”

I swat his hand away. “If my mom and other
families in this town have been trying to keep the curse intact for
so long, it seems to me there’s a reason for it.”

“They’re scared. They’re weak.” He meets my
eyes, dark irises around the pupils. “We’re not.”

“You’re the only one who wants this curse
broken. Doesn’t sound like a curse to me, more like a spell to keep
the peace.”

A muscle works in his jaw like he’s trying to
be patient with me. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew the whole
story.”

“Then tell me,” I say. “Tell me
everything.”

He stands abruptly and holds out his hand. “I
made breakfast. Come on.”

I frown and ignore his hand, but I stand and
nod. “I’m hungry.”

“Good.”

He leads the way to the door and I follow,
searching for another exit besides the front door.

“I hope you slept well,” he says, guiding us
to the stairs.

“I didn’t have much choice.”

Logan glances over his shoulder. “Sorry about
that.” He doesn’t look sorry at all. “It was necessary. And you’ll
be happy to know I brought your bags so you’ll have a change of
clothes and anything else you’ll need.”

“Like my cell phone?”

He smiles at the bottom of the stairs. “Not
that.”

When I walk by, he touches the small of my
back, sending tingling swirls all over. I turn around and point my
finger at him. “Stop.”

Logan catches my wrist, pulling me to him
faster than I can take a breath. “Willow,” he says, cupping my
cheek. His gaze captures mine, a dark void that makes me feel like
I’m falling.

I find my voice. “Don’t do that to me,
Logan.”

“Do what?” he asks softly.

“That thing with your eyes. You’re trying
to…” I shake my head and pull my eyes away. I focus on the collar
of his shirt, well aware I’m still trapped in his embrace. “You’re
trying to influence me.”

He breathing is slow and even, his chest
rising and falling against mine. We’re not even looking at each
other and there’s still a spark of electricity.

“Look at me,” he says.

“No.”

Logan puts his finger under my chin and
guides my face up. My eyes flash to his, but I don’t see anything
dark there. His eyes are actually a nice shade of deep blue‒not the
almost midnight black from earlier. They’re calming but not in a
way that makes me feel like I have no control over my thoughts or
my body.

“I want you to kiss me,” he says.