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    Spring Rain (#4, Witchling Series)
    Spring Rain (#4, Witchling Series)
    Spring Rain (#4, Witchling Series)
    Ebook387 pages7 hours

    Spring Rain (#4, Witchling Series)

    By Lizzy Ford

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    About this ebook

    A Dark soul gathering magick ...
    The Master of Light struggling to find his place ...
    The alluring Fire witchling who holds the key to helping him ...
    Darkness looms over the school for witchlings where the Master of Light, Beck, races to control his magic so he can protect the innocent. He struggles to balance his duty with his broken heart and to understand how to move on from what he considers his ultimate failure: his inability to save the woman he loved.
    Morgan is on the run – for a good cause. The soul stone she carries could kill Beck and everyone else she cares about, if she’s caught by the Dark witchlings pursuing her. Neither Light nor Dark, she begins to think she’ll spend her life in the shadows, undeserving of Beck’s love and alone with her secret.
    When the paths of Beck and Morgan collide again, there isn’t time for doubt or fear. They must work together to tackle the Dark soul that wants them both dead. To do so, there can be no more secrets between them.
    Without Trust, Love and Light, the witchlings will perish.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLizzy Ford
    Release dateFeb 3, 2017
    ISBN9781623783082
    Spring Rain (#4, Witchling Series)
    Author

    Lizzy Ford

    I breathe stories. I dream them. If it were possible, I'd eat them, too. (I'm pretty sure they'd taste like cotton candy.) I can't escape them - they're everywhere! Which is why I write! I was born to bring the crazy worlds and people in my mind to life, and I love sharing them with as many people as I can.I'm also the bestselling, award winning, internationally acclaimed author of over sixty ... eighty ... ninety titles and counting. I write speculative fiction in multiple subgenres of romance and fantasy, contemporary fiction, books for both teens and adults, and just about anything else I feel like writing. If I can imagine it, I can write it!I live in the desert of southern Arizona with two dogs and two cats!My books can be found in every major ereader library, to include: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, Sony and Smashwords.

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      Spring Rain (#4, Witchling Series) - Lizzy Ford

      1

      Beck Turner , the Master and Protector of Light, lifted his hands from the ground and leaned back. Earth magick flowed through his body, its low hum and grumbling whisper soothing the emotions he thought would never leave him in peace. The early spring day was sunny and warm, around forty degrees, practically a heat wave after the frigid winter. He wore a t-shirt and snow pants to keep his legs warm and dry while kneeling in a thin layer of snow. Tree branches dripped with melting ice to create puddles around him. In the distance, the racing stream near the home in the forest he’d adopted after the events of December sounded close to overflowing.

      This is how it’s supposed to be. He breathed in deeply and released the air slowly. He was one with his element, his focus on the real issue of importance in his life: saving the Light. Three solid months of grueling work had seen the source of Light beneath the boarding school in northern Idaho begin to heal itself – and expand. The gains were tentative, about three feet total, and he had no idea if they’d last if a Dark student or worse, his brother, the Master of Dark, set foot on campus.

      But for now, the weeks of sleepless nights, days spent recruiting Light students from all over the globe, and his self-imposed exile were working. His sole purpose in life was to save the Light, and he was winning, however brittle his victory might eventually turn out to be.

      He remained despite his weariness, not wanting to break the connection with his element. It was so much easier to see beyond himself when he was synced with the earth. None of the crippling emotions that plagued him during the rest of his day and night were present.

      His twin’s approach was like a sudden shadow covering the sun. Beck shivered inadvertently as the temperature around him dropped several degrees. He blinked out of his stupor.

      I can wait, Decker said softly from several feet behind him.

      Beck glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention to the ground. His hands were imprinted in the snow. He had the urge to replace them in their chilly molds, to disappear once more into the warm magick of the earth.

      He was getting stronger. He no longer needed direct contact to see the images sent to him by the earth. The visions used to be fragmented and confusing, but that had changed gradually as he spent more time with the Light and his magick.

      With Decker and his chilling Darkness so close, the magick wore off faster, and a familiar ache filled Beck’s chest, along with fatigue and the turmoil of his thoughts.

      It’s okay, he replied. I’m done for now. Pushing himself to his feet, he faced Decker. His lean twin was just over six feet with caramel skin and dark hair. He wore all black, and his Darkness clung to him, a stark contrast against the white snow. Decker stood a foot from the edge of the Light out of respect for his brother’s fledgling domain.

      Beck looked away without talking to his twin and started back towards his refuge. While he was the Master of Light and his duty saw him with the Light most days, he chose to sleep away from the source of goodness in the world. He told himself it was because of events like this, when his brother came to find him.

      But he knew better. He didn’t feel worthy enough to stay with the Light. Light witchlings embodied goodness and purity. Unlike them, he was … flawed. Tainted by mistakes, loss and the knowledge that no amount of magick in the world could heal the part of him that hurt.

      What’s up? he asked. The earth cleared a path for them through snow, puddles and trees towards the massive tree trunk he had adopted as his. He ducked inside and glanced around. On one side was a small bed loaded with blankets and on the other side a trunk, cupboard, and stools were squeezed within. Decker had brought him groceries, and a tote sat on a low table along one side.

      One of the many homes of Sam, the yeti who lived in this part of the forest, Beck had only brought more blankets and a firmer pillow with him when he moved in, with Sam’s permission. He left the rest of his possessions at his parent’s nearby cabin as part of his punishment for not being the man he thought he should be.

      The fire was warm against his cold cheeks, and he sat.

      Brought you snacks, Decker replied. Dad said you haven’t answered his texts in a few days. The Master of Dark’s gaze was concerned.

      Beck leaned back against one wall. I’m fine, he said, answering the unasked question. Just … busy.

      Doing good work.

      He nodded.

      Decker’s dark gaze lingered on his features. He sat. The spring equinox is coming up. There’s talk about this gathering being big. Word has leaked about our issue. Every three months, their parents hosted fetes or other types of gatherings centered around the dates of solstices and equinoxes, brief periods of power that beckoned to witchlings whose magick was tied to the elements. For the last winter solstice, there had been a charity ball. For the spring equinox, they usually hosted a renewal event of some kind in honor of spring. Beck hadn’t bothered to ask what was happening this year.

      Your issue, he whispered. No part of him wanted to think about what had happened several months ago. My only concern is the Light.

      And your daughter.

      Beck rubbed his face. He was too tired to argue with his brother and instead, dug around for a candy bar in the bag Decker had brought. The earth’s soothing magick was fading. The ache in his chest began to turn into outright pain. Even the earth couldn’t heal this kind of suffering the way it could physical ailments.

      You need to rest, Beck. Decker’s tone was gentler.

      Has Summer taught you some compassion? Beck grumbled. Because the twin I know isn’t a nice guy.

      He still cares about you enough to beat you into unconsciousness if you need sleep! Decker retorted.

      That’s my brother. Beck snorted. He didn’t like his visitors treating him like there was something wrong with him or walking on eggshells. He wanted to be alone with his misery, to watch the rest of the world go on and be happy without him, to be forgotten and left alone.

      Beck, I know what you’re going through. You know that, Decker added, his familiar agitation causing his shadows to churn around him. I lost someone I cared about, too. My counterbalance.

      But yours wasn’t dead, Beck snapped.

      I thought she was.

      He looked up at the hushed note in Decker’s voice. The haunted look on his twin’s face reminded him of everything they’d both been through when Decker’s girlfriend, Summer, had turned Dark and dove off a cliff. Beck had to keep the secret of her survival to himself for many months while Decker pursued a course of self-destruction.

      I know, Decker, Beck said. It was no real solace to recall his brother’s agony. If anything, it made Beck hurt more, this time for his twin. But this is different. It’s not just Morgan. There’s the baby, too.

      He couldn’t act against the Dark witchling who had invited the Darkest of all Dark souls into her body in order to exact revenge on him, not without hurting his own child. The situation with no solution left him helpless and overwhelmed.

      Decker said nothing, his shadows calming until they were still once more. They usually made Beck edgy, especially in close quarters. He was too exhausted to care today.

      The silence stretched on. Usually the first to mend fences and keep the peace, Beck sighed. So … no Dawn sightings?

      None. Decker’s features grew thoughtful, and Beck sensed he was communicating with his Darkness. It makes no sense.

      No, it doesn’t. Beck tried hard to suppress the feeling of urgency whenever he considered what had happened to Dawn. The woman was still alive; this much was assumed. The mother of his daughter would come to term in about a month. It was nearly impossible to think that she was managing her pregnancy with no medical support from the doctors in Northern Idaho and without contacting any of her family and friends. Yet no amount of his father’s money or Decker tapping into his Dark domain had found her.

      That Decker couldn’t track her, and he was supposed to be able to track all Dark witchlings …

      It’s Bartholomew, Decker’s voice was hushed. He’s taught her something or hidden her somehow.

      Beck glanced warily at his twin. Decker not only was charged to prevent the Dark from spreading, but was … well, possessed by the souls of the Masters and Mistresses of Dark that came before him. They lived in his head and were constantly talking to him, usually educating him, except for Bartholomew, who had tried to lure Decker into releasing the Dark completely.

      The Master of Light had no such army of dead souls in his head. If anything, Beck desperately needed guidance, and there was no one to provide it, since his predecessor was killed twenty years before. He pitied his brother once again. His heart was too good to be as hard as he wanted it to. Even his brother had a flicker of pure Light. Beck was flawed but compassionate, able to look past the mistakes of others and see the good within them.

      Except with myself.

      There was no excuse for the Master of Light who failed in his duty to protect those who deserved it, innocents like his daughter and Morgan, the girl he loved.

      The lake thawed enough this week for dad to call in someone to dredge it, Decker said.

      Beck’s breath caught and he stared at the fire at the center of the tree trunk. He thought of Morgan every time his gaze drifted to the flames and how she’d once taken him into the center of a bonfire and showed him how alive the flames really were.

      Did they … He stopped, his voice breaking. Clearing his throat, he tried again. Did they find her?

      No, Decker replied. They found the SUV and … Alexa’s body. Decker shifted. That’s my bad. Alexa had been Dawn’s henchwoman and had tormented both Summer and Morgan and probably a great many more innocent witchlings.

      It was as far as Beck could get on the subject. His throat was almost too tight to speak, the muscles of his body aching with sudden tension. He hadn’t been able to bear watching Morgan’s brother, Connor, go through the pain he did. It was another reason for his exile in the forest. More suffering of the innocent that he should have somehow been able to prevent.

      They didn’t find the soul stone either, Decker added, referring to the rock in Morgan’s possession that had held a piece of pure Dark.

      Maybe Dawn got to it and it’s hiding her. Beck managed. He forced himself to sip water from a bottle and silently called for the earth to help his tense frame uncoil. Every time he thought of the Fire witchling meant to be his counter balance, he felt even farther from the Light.

      Maybe. Decker was pensive once more. I’ve given it some thought. If we could find the soul stone, do you think we could trap Bartholomew again, the way his sons did a thousand years ago?

      I imagine it’d be much harder since he has no human form this time around. How do you lure a soul out of the body it’s possessing without destroying the vessel? Beck replied. He, too, had given this and every other scenario he could come up with some thought and returned to the conclusion that nothing was going to work that wouldn’t involve putting his daughter in danger.

      That part I haven’t figured out. But … do you think it’s worth talking to Sam about?

      I don’t think it matters since the soul stone is gone, Beck replied. Is that why you came by? To tell me they hadn’t found anything?

      No. Dad was worried and wants you involved in the family event for the equinox.

      I’m not in any shape to deal with people.

      I see. Decker motioned to Beck’s scruffy features. You can sleep in a real bed and eat hot food. Grandpa has cookies.

      The moment he said it, Beck’s stomach growled.

      That’s what I thought, Decker said with a trace of a smile. Come, Beck. Please. At least for a couple of days.

      Beck debated. He’d been hiding in the forest since he lost Morgan under the guise of helping the Light. In truth, he didn’t feel any more ready to face the world than he had that agonizing day in December when he saw the SUV she was in sink to the bottom of the lake.

      He had found his counterbalance, the witchling that was supposed to help him with the Light, then lost her immediately.

      When is it? he asked.

      Two days. You can hide out in your room. You need a break, Beck, and a shower.

      Beck smiled. All right.

      Your phone on?

      Beck stretched for the phone he had tucked in a box. No. It’s the first day of sunlight in two weeks. The solar charger is outside. He motioned to the doorway. Phone will be charged in a few hours.

      I’ll tell Dad. Decker stood. He seemed ready to say something else and changed his mind, leaving without another word.

      Beck watched him go. He didn’t want to ponder on what Decker had said about the fact no other bodies had been recovered from the lake. There was a part of him that didn’t think he could ever handle knowing Morgan was truly dead. It was easier for him, at least for now, to live without closure and the slim, crazy hope that maybe, by some miracle like the one that saved Summer, Morgan was still alive.

      However stupid it was to think so.

      If she is alive, she wants nothing to do with me. Their last interaction almost killed him through no fault of hers when he touched the soul stone. Only a Fire witchling could touch it safely. Morgan had saved his life.

      Then died alone, scared, tortured by Dawn and believing he hated her.

      She deserved so much better. Her death was yet another of his failings.

      2

      Morgan squeezed the soul stone in her pocket, automatically directing more of her Fire magick to counter the rock that was too cold for a normal human or witchling to touch. Her phone vibrated on the tabletop beside her, and she glanced at it. The warm, fragrant air of a café, combined with the gentle murmur of its patrons and the sound of espresso drinks being created, made her feel almost normal.

      He can’t take this much longer, read the text.

      Almost. Normal.

      Any fragile fragment of peace she managed to eek out of her tedious day vanished. Morgan set down her drink and picked up the cell she’d been given several months before by the same person who texted her.

      Decker held the magick of three elements, and in that moment, she could see the impatient Fire element dominating him. She’d stopped using the credit card he gave her but not the phone, because …

      Because some part of her wanted to be found by the guy she’d left behind. She’d even saved his contact in the phone Decker gave her. It used to belong to Summer, and Morgan had deleted everyone’s contact information except for Decker’s and Beck’s. She had renamed Beck’s, though, because seeing his name made her hurt too much.

      Whatever was between them was too strong to be natural. She’d come to this conclusion late one night about four weeks ago, after she’d spent her tears and lay waiting for sleep to claim her.

      She still missed Beck, and it didn’t make sense that she should after three months of not seeing him. She had barely gotten to know him, having spent only a few precious moments with him and yet, couldn’t let him go like she wanted to so she could move on. If she were someone else, if her situation was different... If she was different and not charged with safeguarding a tool of evil, one that could kill the Master of Light …

      No matter how bad things were, she wasn’t able to escape the sense of belonging, the sad instinct that begged her to return to the Master of Light who somehow branded her soul.

      Morgan typed the response she always gave Decker. You know this is the right thing to do. Pressing send, she did her best to convince herself it was true.

      He responded immediately. You’re Beck’s counterbalance, like it or not. Why aren’t you trying to help us with the Light? He had typed.

      If we ever meet again, Decker, I’ll do more than set your shoes on fire, Morgan muttered under her breath.

      She didn’t understand fully what a counterbalance was supposed to do and why he assumed she was one. True, she couldn’t explain the bond with Beck that wasn’t growing weaker the way it should be if they had a normal relationship.

      Glaring at Decker’s response, she had to force herself not to send him an angry response. He was the brother of the man she cared about and had helped her, albeit reluctantly.

      Maybe we could use the soul stone to capture Bartholomew, he texted next.

      That’s it, Decker. Morgan sent him a scathing response and tapped send, not caring if she pissed him off. The stone had been in her family for a thousand years. If it was meant to be used, it wouldn’t be a secret! And the best – and only thing – she knew to do to protect Beck and help him with the Light was to keep as far away as possible.

      Red, you’re up! called a smiling brunette from behind the counter.

      Red was her nickname, and she’d made up a name for her employment forms. Irked, Morgan stood and tucked her phone away before approaching. The barista just leaving her shift handed over an apron, and Morgan tied it around her waist before placing her fiery red hair into a ponytail.

      Not patient enough for customer service, she took up her position at the espresso machine and breathed in the stimulating, rich mix of coffee and milk. It had quickly become her favorite scent and clung to her when she left her shift every day. Her hair smelled of espresso no matter how many times she washed it.

      Hey, Red. The guy at the drive thru window called to her. Someone came by earlier looking for you.

      One of my customers? she asked, wiping down the machine. There were at least fourteen people who came in periodically and requested her, which was five times as many as any other barista who worked at the cafe. She suspected her fire magick added a little more warmth or kick to their drinks, because she followed the drinks’ preparation instructions exactly.

      No. He rolled his eyes as he joined her.

      She glanced up, then away quickly. Before Beck, she never would’ve thought she’d meet another man’s gaze let alone take a chance on anyone, given her history of abuse at the hands of her uncle. After Beck, all she could think about was never letting down her guard again, that the emotional pain caused by losing him was much worse than the physical pain inflicted by her uncle.

      Real pretty blonde lady. Looked like a model. Pregnant.

      Dawn.

      Morgan’s hands paused in her cleanup duty. It’s not possible. As far as she knew, no witchling could track her. She was neither Light nor Dark but stuck between, which meant neither Beck nor Decker was able to trace her. Add to that the fact she had successfully faked her own death, was in a different state and never wore the cloudy amulet marking her as a witchling, it seemed impossible for anyone to have discovered where she was hiding out.

      Reminding herself of this, she began working again.

      Said she’d be back later, Stu added. You, uh … he lowered his voice and looked around. … you know. Think about maybe going out with me this weekend?

      Nope, she replied firmly. As usual.

      Puh-lease? Even to help me win the pool? I know I’m your favorite.

      She pinned him with a cold look.

      Okay, so your least un-favorite, he added hopefully.

      Nope. Your light’s on. She motioned to the flickering red light at the window indicating someone was waiting.

      I’ll ask again next week, he said with a grin.

      Stu was a nice guy, attractive and nowhere near as interesting to her as she was to him. Morgan checked out the gaggle of three guys near the drive thru. Stu was apparently reporting back his failure, and the others were laughing.

      I don’t think their pool is funny, said Rosy, another coworker. Very misogynistic to bet on a girl going out with them.

      They’re idiots, Morgan agreed. I’m here for the paycheck and nothing else.

      Out of curiosity, do you swing the other way?

      Startled, Morgan met Rosy’s gaze. Um, no.

      Just not interested in guys? Or friends? Or hanging out?

      What is wrong with these people? She almost spoke the words out loud before recalling how different she was from a typical teenager. Stu, Rosy and the rest of them weren’t worrying about protecting the world from a piece of pure evil that could easily destroy them.

      They were concerned about … dating. Clothes. Sports. College.

      It was a mentality Morgan didn’t really understand, but she also knew she was the odd one out, not them. She hadn’t fit in among the witchlings and she didn’t fit in here, either.

      I hate my life, she thought bitterly.

      Not right now, she said in as pleasant of a voice as she could manage. If she’d learned anything working around humans, it was to be nicer, because they had no freaking clue. Did they ask you to ask me?

      No. Just curious. You’ve worked here for over two months, and no one knows anything about you. Rosy shrugged. Except that every customer on the planet loves you. She rolled her eyes.

      I share my tips, Morgan said, aware of how awkward it was sometimes when another barista was on the machine when one of her regular customers came in.

      We love you for it. Rosy grinned, her eyes falling to someone entering the café. I’m up! She went to the cash register.

      Morgan’s gaze swept out over the clientele currently in the café. Even if she didn’t think it likely someone had found her, she wasn’t able to shake the unease agitating her fire magick. A spark smacked into the metal machine and fizzled out, and she blinked, reigning in her magick.

      Whoever it was that came looking for her, she didn’t return during Morgan’s shift. She left at nine o’clock in the evening, an hour after closing, as she did every day. Decker had texted twice more, and she walked down the well-lit street towards the apartment she’d rented and read through his responses.

      Beck is hurting.

      She sucked in a breath, her magick sparking around her while sorrow tore a hole in her.

      There has to be another way. Lamented the second text.

      I want that, too, she whispered, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. She tucked the phone away and spent a long moment staring into the night sky over Las Vegas. The trees lining her walk were budding, and the scent of winter was gone.

      Warmed by her fire magick, she didn’t notice the chill of early spring and instead began reviewing every option she’d ever dreamt up about how to make it back to Beck.

      In the end, it all boiled down to the stark reality that there was no way. She couldn’t simultaneously protect him and fulfill her familial obligation of protecting the soul stone.

      She trudged onward to the well-kept, aging apartment complex not far from her workplace. Morgan tugged the scrunchie out of her hair, unleashing a puff of espresso, and climbed the metal stairs to the second floor and her small, but cozy apartment.

      The moment she entered, she froze. It was all of five hundred square feet – too small for her not to notice if something was off, even in the dark. She’d taken a large withdrawal of cash from Decker’s credit card before leaving Idaho and used it to buy a couch, bed, and small dining table. The rest was stashed. She had enough for a car, but walking was cheaper. She had no way of knowing how long she’d be on the lam, so the money had to last.

      Morgan didn’t bother to warn whoever was trespassing, hunkered down in the corner behind the couch. She pulled off her fire magick. Her hands burst into orange flames bright enough to light up the entire apartment and blind whoever was there – without affecting her. Purple and white flickers in her fire distracted her briefly.

      She peered through the flames at the guy crouched in the corner.

      Noah? she asked, surprised. What’re you doing here? She dimmed the flames without releasing them entirely. Noah was Dawn’s brother and the person she least wanted to run into. He had helped her before, but she hesitated to welcome him with open arms, not when she knew he’d once been a lackey of Dawn. How did you find me?

      Doesn’t matter. Dawn’s in town. He shielded his eyes against the light.

      Her fire flared, and she looked around.

      She’s not in here.

      And you’re what? Here to take me to her?

      No, Morgan. Can you please turn that off? he complained.

      Tell me why you’re here!

      To warn you! he snapped. Look, I figured out where you were months ago. I’ve been watching, making sure she doesn’t get close again.

      Morgan listened. Noah may have once been his sister’s obedient lackey, but he had also saved her life. She extinguished her flames and flipped the light on. Noah emerged from the corner cautiously. The brooding teen resembled his supermodel mother with his medium length blond hair and blue-grey eyes set in chiseled features. He wore jeans and a leather jacket.

      You followed me, Morgan crossed her arms. Explain that.

      It wasn’t hard. There was a lot of snow around the lake. It showed me where you went. I destroyed the path so no one else could follow, he replied with a shrug. As a water element, he was able to communicate with, and create, all sorts of weather.

      She frowned and tossed her keys and purse on the couch. She had fled Priest Lake, where the witchlings’ boarding school was located, south to Priest River on foot before hiring a taxi to take her farther south. In hindsight, she probably should’ve made sure no one was following her, but she panicked after the events at the lake.

      Besides, when she made it to the border of Idaho and Nevada, she’d grown cautious and ensured no one followed her south. At least, she thought she’d been careful.

      Did anyone else follow you? she asked.

      Not that I saw.

      Did you get an apartment next door or something? she asked, a little unnerved someone had been watching her for three months.

      Here? he snorted. No.

      She rolled her eyes. Like pretty much everyone else at the exclusive boarding school, including the Turner twins, Noah was wealthy, or had been. There were rumors she’d heard before leaving that his family’s business was headed for bankruptcy.

      I’ve been close, though.

      Anyway, your sister found you first and then me? she asked.

      No. I didn’t tell my family where I was going. A troubled look crossed his features. Just left. Like you did to your brother.

      The other reason Morgan hurt: her own brother thought she was dead. She didn’t want to know the

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