Burned (Keeper of the Flame) (8 page)

“Stop?”

“Don’t come any closer,” I tell him. I wish
again for my flashlight or some kind of weapon. Anything that makes
me feel safer.

He stops and spreads his hands. “I’m not
going to hurt you.”

I hate that he actually looks sincere. But
what do I know? I’m clearly not the best judge of character.

“So…what?” I ask, gripping the bed post hard
enough my knuckles turn white. “You just wanted me to come over for
dinner?”

He laughs. “Are you hungry?”

“This isn’t funny.”

Logan drops the smile. “No, it’s not.”

He starts walking again, feet so quiet on the
hardwood floor, I wouldn’t be able to tell he’s there if I didn’t
see him with my own eyes. I never realized before how stealthy he
is, how smooth his movements are, how predatory his gaze is.

“How do you do it?” I ask, trying to distract
him.

Another step. “Do what?”

“Go out in the sunlight? That’s got to hurt,
right? Or are there different rules for you?”

A smile curves his lips. “You
have
been doing your research.”

“Why are we here?”

When he steps closer, I try to ease around to
the other side of the bed, but he’s too fast. So quick, he’s almost
a blur. All the sudden, he’s in front of me, one hand on my back to
hold me to him.

Our bodies touch the entire way down, and he
traces my jaw with his free hand.

“Because I need you,” he whispers.

His breath tickles my cheek, and his eyes are
fathomless, making me feel dizzy again.

“What for?” I ask, a hitch in my voice.

“To become who I’m meant to be.”

Vampire. That’s what he’s talking about. But
my head is so hazy, all I can do is stare into his eyes.

“I need your help,” Logan continues. His lips
brush my cheek, my jaw, trace down to my collarbone. “And once you
see what kind of power is at your fingertips, I think you’ll want
to do this.”

“Do what?” I whisper.

His lips claim mine, gentle enough it’s
almost like an invitation, but with enough heat to shoot sparks to
my toes. His tongue traces my upper lip before he changes the angle
of the kiss, tipping me back as though I’m nothing but air. His
hand slides under my shirt, making my belly quiver, and I cling to
his shirt, holding on as though I’m on a precipice.

I’m falling and I can’t seem to help myself.
He leans me back on the bed, hands like fire as he traces them up
my sides and grazes the top of my bra. His fingers dip underneath
the material, sending a jolt of desire to my center.

“Logan.”

“Yes,” he murmurs, finding my lips again.

I blink. Once. Twice. What does he keep doing
to me? It snaps into place. I’m a captive in his home. He’s a
vampire
. I need to get out.

I wedge my hands between us, pushing at his
chest. “Get off.”

He catches my wrists with a lazy smile. “You
don’t want that.”

Don’t look at his eyes!
It’s like he
has some sort of spell over me every time we make eye contact.

“Yes, I do. Get off!” I push him as hard as I
can.

He steps back from the force of my shove but
isn’t caught off balance. “Willow,” he says with a sigh. “This will
be so much easier if you just realize why you’re here. We all have
our parts to play and this is yours.”

I scramble to my feet. “
What
is mine
exactly? To let you trick me into kissing you, to let you take
advantage of me? Sounds like my part’s a load of shit‒”

“Willow.” He props his hands on his hips,
muscles bulging against his dark T-shirt. “I didn’t trick you into
kissing me. Not the first time.” He smiles. “Or the second.”

He’s right. Even when my head is clear, it’s
hard not to notice the attraction between us.

“You’re doing
something
to me. Your
eyes‒they‒” I shake my head. How do I explain this?

“It’s part of who I am,” Logan says, his
voice soothing. “Now you just have to come to terms with who you
are.”

“Who am I?”

“A witch,” he says simply. He captures one of
my hands in his, fingers tracing across my knuckles.

“Logan,” I warn, my voice low. His hand
tightens on mine instead of letting go. “Tell me why you brought me
here.”

“I need you‒”

“You already said that.”

“I need you,” he says again, eyes dark, cast
down at our hands, “to be here for the full moon. And then I need
you to do a spell for me.”

My mouth pops open. “A spell?”

“You’re a witch, remember? Your kind does a
spell and my kind gets to be who we’re meant to be. It’s as simple
as that.”

“It doesn’t sound simple at all‒”

He puts his hand over my mouth. “Let’s not
talk about this now. Let me show you around.”

“Seriously? I’m not staying here. Logan, you
need to let me go.”

He ignores me, pulling on my hand. “You’ll
like the house.”

“You’re not going to get away with this. My
stuff is still at the motel. People will be looking for me‒”

He laughs. “I doubt it. I’ll head over there
and pick up your stuff soon. I’ve got to take care of your car,
too. They’re expecting you to check out tomorrow anyway,
right?”

My gaze snaps to his. “How did you know?”

“You seemed a little tense earlier. And then
you blew me off‒”

“I did
not
blow you off.”

He stops at the door, his free hand on the
knob. “You were hiding something from me. And I figured out what.
You were going to leave before the full moon. Now I’m just going to
make it look like you left a little earlier. Should make the others
happy.”

“What others?”

“The ones that actually want you gone.”

He opens the door, keeping me firmly in
tow.

“Logan, just tell me‒”

“No,” he snaps, voice close to a growl.
“That’s enough. You’re staying here, end of discussion.”

I blow out a shaky breath, trying to ease my
hand from his tight grip. He loosens his hold, flipping my hand
over and bringing it to his cheek. He closes his eyes briefly
before saying, “You aren’t going to believe how much power you’ll
have access to once we get through the full moon. And if you give
it chance, I think you might like it.”

I choke on disbelief, but I keep my mouth
shut. He’s delusional if he thinks kidnapping me is going to make
me want to help him. But the more I go along with his plan, the
more time I have to figure out how to get out of here.

“Okay,” I say quietly. “Show me your
house.”

“Good.”

His shoulders relax and he keeps my hand in
his while we walk down the hallway. He points out other bedrooms
but doesn’t spend much time upstairs. When we reach the main level,
I’m surprised at how comfortable the house is. It looks lived in
but old, with antiques expertly placed, the wood of the flooring
and the doors rich and solid.

“This is your house?” I ask, unbelieving.

“My family’s house, yes. But it’s just me
here now. It’s‒”

He breaks off and walks me across the
entryway to a room with a closed door. We pass the front door and I
pretend I don’t even notice, though I’m well aware this might be
one way to escape his house. I have no idea where my bag is, or my
cell phone. But maybe if I can get him to believe I plan on
staying, I’ll have time to find it before tomorrow night.

“It’s what?” I ask, turning to him.

He props his shoulder on the wood paneling
outside the closed door. “It’s nothing.”

I urge myself to step closer, to force
compassion into my eyes. “Family stuff?”

He nods. “Family stuff.” He reaches to cup my
chin. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before sliding
his lips across mine. I can’t help the spark of need, that desire
for physical contact I haven’t had in a while. It’s been too long
since I’ve been able to open myself up to someone else.

For some reason, the flames don’t seem to get
too out of control with Logan. At least not yet. How can I still be
so attracted to him knowing what he is? And after what he’s
done?

Logan eases back. “You’ll come around. There
are a lot of great things we can do if we work together.”

Somehow I get the impression his idea of
great things and mine are very different.

“What’s inside?” I ask, pointing to the
door.

“Ahh…” He opens it and lets me go in before
him. “The library.”

I stop a few feet in and gape. There are
books everywhere, lined shelf after shelf higher than my head.
There’s even a second story with a winding staircase that leads to
a balcony.

Logan smiles. “I thought an avid researcher
like yourself would appreciate this.” He points to one shelf.
“Classics, of course. And some of my favorites. But a lot of the
rest of these are history and geography. Family journals,
notebooks, and all about our bloodline.”

A vampire bloodline?

“Are your parents…or the rest of your family
like you?” I ask.

“You mean devastatingly handsome and
charming?”

“You know what I mean.”

He walks to the window and puts his hands in
his pockets. “We are the oldest family in Shadow Hill. Our
bloodline stretches back for over a century.” When he turns, his
lips are pressed together tightly, fire flashing in his eyes. “It
stretches back almost as long as the curse.”

“What curse?”

He strolls toward me. “The one you’re here to
break.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re
talking about. I can’t break a curse‒”

“You can and you will.” Suddenly he’s in
front of me, fingers gripping my jaw. “I brought your mother’s Book
of Shadows and I’ll bring you whatever else you need. But, Willow,
you’re not leaving until you break that curse.”

I drop my head into my heads. Logan left me
with my mother’s book, another journal he said I might need, and
closed the library door.

He doesn’t even care that I know nothing
about magic or spells or curses. I barely know about my family
history. Before the last few months, I didn’t know how I could make
fire appear, but I didn’t for one second believe it was because I
had magical powers.

I stand from the table near the window and
peer outside. The grounds are immaculate and welcoming. If I wasn’t
being held captive here, I might actually enjoy touring the
place.

It’s already early evening, with the sun
sinking closer to the horizon. I have to figure out how to get out
of here soon.

My eyes stray to the library door. I didn’t
hear a lock or anything, which means he trusts me for now. Maybe if
I’m quiet enough, I can get out. Maybe I can find an exit‒or a
phone.

On the table behind me, the Book of Shadows
starts fluttering again. I walk over as it stills, falling open on
a page that says,
Commune Without Being Present
.

It goes on to explain how to contact or try
to communicate with someone who isn’t in the same room‒or even the
same state‒as you. It’s followed by a section on astral projection.
My eyes race across the necessary tools and find they’re relatively
simple. To communicate with someone who isn’t present, all you need
is an item of theirs.

And being a witch doesn’t hurt.

I fumble in my pocket. My hand collides first
with the necklace and then with the business card Ryan gave me.

I hear the sound of footsteps outside the
door and freeze. I wait for Logan to come in, but the footsteps
start again and move away. Taking a quick breath, I grab the Book
of Shadows and tuck it close to my chest. Then I creep to the door
and twist the handle quietly.

It squeaks when it opens and I wince, waiting
for Logan to come running. But nothing happens. My heart races in
my chest, but I make myself step out. I’m only a hallway from the
front door. From freedom.

I swallow and take measured steps in that
direction, grateful I wore sneakers today.

When the door is in view, I make myself go
slow in case Logan appears. My hand closes over the handle. I twist
and pull, but nothing happens. I pull it again, but the door
doesn’t budge. I fiddle with the locks but can’t seem to make
anything work. Frantic, I yank harder, nearly dropping the
book.

“It’s bolted from the outside,” Logan says,
voice close to my ear.

I whip around with a startled gasp. Clutching
the book to my chest, I say, “I’ll talk to you about your spell. I
promise. Just let me go.”

His dark eyes hold danger, his hands fisted
at his sides. “I thought we already discussed this. I’ve been
waiting a long time to get the original four families in town at
the same time during a full moon. And you’re the Keeper of the
Flame. I
cannot
let you go. It would behoove you to
cooperate.”

“I am‒”

“Come on,” he says, curling his hand around
my arm.

“No, Logan.” I can’t leave the door, I won’t
get shut in somewhere I can’t get out of. I squirm, but his grip is
too strong. “Stop. Please.”

“Willow, stop making this difficult.”

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I rip my
arm from him and swing the book at his head. He deflects it with
his forearm, knocking it to the floor. Then he stoops down, grabs
me around my thighs and hauls me over his shoulder.

“No! Logan!” I pound my fists against his
back. “Put me down.”

“I thought you’d understand, but it looks
like we’re going to have to do one thing at a time.”

He hikes up the stairs. He doesn’t even get
winded, just keeps going down the hall, past a few rooms he pointed
out earlier and carries me into the same bedroom I woke in. He
drops me on the bed, and before I can even start to get back up, he
whips around.

“Willow, I need you calm down. Or else we’re
going to have to do this the hard way.”

I glare at him, sliding to the edge of the
bed. “You mean kidnapping me was the easy way?”