Storm Watch (Woodland Creek) (7 page)

“Go away!” She had no idea if yelling would scare the huge animal away, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do. Yet, she’d almost swear it had an…angry look on its face.

Before she could really process that thought, she felt herself go white. If she’d been shocked before, it was nothing to what she felt now. She shook her head to clear it. But, nothing changed. Standing before her—naked—was a very pissed off Luke Steele. Complete with burned shoulder.
Had she somehow burned him?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Luke snapped, his eyes flashing Arctic blue.

She gulped. “What are you?”

He slashed an angry hand through the air. “Answer the question.”

“I was looking for you,” she said.

Follow me back to the house,” he snapped, and shifted back to his tiger.

Storm’s eyes widened, but she followed him when he turned and headed back the way he’d come. There wasn’t much else she could do. Now, she was both wet and cold. A deadly combination.

§§§

Luke was livid. There was absolutely no doubt she was a wizard—or some kind of fire shifter—if there even was such a thing. But he’d only been gone a few minutes longer than he’d thought he’d be…and she was far enough from the house that she’d obviously left within minutes of his leaving in the Jeep.

He kept his pace slow, knowing she’d never be able to keep up with him if he went any faster. But, damn, he wanted to run. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this angry. Livid was a better word. It would be different if he hadn’t spent the better part of the day making love to the woman. And she’d given her word she’d stay put.

When he got back to the house, he threw open the door and waved her inside, his face tight. “After you.”

She glared at him, but moved past him and through the wooden door.

Once he’d shut the door and bolted it, he went to his room to put on clothes. The fire had gone out, and he was still cold from standing in the middle of the woods buck-naked.

Cursing, he pulled on a pair of sweats, and walked back out to the living room. He ignored Storm and moved to the fireplace. He tossed in more paper and re-started the fire.

“Are you going to answer me?” she asked angrily.

Luke put on the fire grate and stood, then moved toward her. He was normally a calm man. But right now, he was furious. “Come by the fire. You’re cold.”

With a sigh, Storm marched to the fire and held her hands out to warm them. After a moment, she shrugged out of the coat and let it fall to the floor.

Luke waited several minutes to speak again, until he was sure he’d controlled his temper. “I’m a shifter,” he said quietly.

“Yeah…uh, I think I figured that out on my own,” she said a little dryly.

“You don’t seem to be completely freaked out.” His anger was momentarily forgotten in light of this new development. Most people, in his limited experience of shifting in front of them, didn’t believe their own eyes. He’d seen it more than once while in Afghanistan. He’d sworn his two friends to secrecy. If nothing else, SEALs were very loyal to one another.

She shrugged. “After the last few days, I think I’d believe anything. But, I’m not sure I understand what…uh…were your parents shifters, too?”

My father was, yes. My mother was a wizard.”

Her eyes widened. “A what?”

He chuckled. “A wizard.”

“Um, you mean like Harry Potter?”

He had to laugh at that. Why was it everyone thought Harry Potter was the first story with a wizard in it? Had no one read
Lord of the Rings
? Gandalf was one of the greatest wizards he’d ever read about. “No. We don’t need wands. Just spells, and the powers we were born with. Like your fire power.”

He probably shouldn’t have just dropped it on her like that; but surely she knew something was up when the coat started to smolder—and when her touch burned his shoulder—and it hurt like hell, too.

When he noticed her pale and start to sway, he moved and lifted her in his arms, cursing himself silently for just blurting it out like that. “Breathe,” he whispered as he sat down with her on his lap.

She sat stiffly. “I’m not a witch.”

He leaned back and held her. “No, you’re not a witch. Witches are fiction—though, I’d imagine they are based on old tales of wizards. The term is wizard, whether male or female. I think you have at the very least, an affinity for fire. I take it you’ve never started to smolder before? Or burned something?”

She flushed. “I…I don’t know. I’ve felt a strange heat before. Like when I grabbed your arm when we were in the Jeep.”

He nodded. “So, your powers are based in your emotions. That’s not terribly unusual.” Many of the wizards he’d known had come into their powers as teens—when hormones were at their highest—and when emotions were the least stable.

“But, I’m almost thirty. How could something like this happen without me knowing about it before now?” she asked, her voice high and frightened.

Luke knew that all of this was a lot to take in on top of everything that had happened to her during the last two or so days. But, it was important for her to understand. “I think your powers might have been latent. You might have never even used them if it hadn’t been for what you saw Samuels do. Some wizards are raised always knowing they are going to have powers. So, they are more open to them. Others—ones with latent powers—never truly develop them.”

“So, my parents…”

“One or both of them was likely a wizard. This community is on ley-lines. A powerful area for wizards. Just being near Woodland Creek likely helped,” he explained. “Combined with your surge of emotions when you thought I was going to hurt you. As for what happened in the woods? I think that was due to the proximity to the lines. One is right there in those woods.”

“Ley-lines? Um…what are those?” she asked.

“They are places of energy—the power of the earth, I guess, is the simplest way to describe them. But the lines here draw wizards. And, apparently, shifters. You were very close to the old ruins during your little jaunt into the woods. It’s one of the strongest lines in this area.”

Storm shook her head. “So, you’re saying that my…birth parents…were some kind of magical beings?” she scoffed. “I’m not entirely sure I believe that. There has to be a logical explanation.”

He tilted his head and looked her straight in the eye. “Yes, I’m sure there is some logical explanation for you to burn someone with your bare hands,” he said dryly.

She flushed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Gently, she brushed the burn on his shoulder. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m a rapid healer. I’ll be fine with another shift. But, I do wish I knew more about your family. This town was started by five major families. Both shifters and wizards. I’m betting your parents descended from one of them.” He paused, thoughtful for a moment. “We can go to the historical society. Did your name come from your adopted parents or your birth parents?”

“My birth parents. I wasn’t a baby when they died. It would have been strange to change my name,” she said. “My adoptive parents kept my name.”

He nodded. “There you have it. Tell me, did the storm yesterday get worse the more upset you got?”

Storm paled. She climbed from his lap and stood shakily. “I—I didn’t think about it.”

“The forecast was for snow—not a blizzard. I think you might also have a bit of control over the weather.” The more he pondered the idea, the more logical it seemed.

A girl named Storm that needed to hide. What better way than to be in a blizzard that made travel nearly impossible? It made sense to him. “We could test the theory.”

She gave him a wary look. “How?”

“W
e can talk about it in a bit. For now, I think you need to get out of those cold, wet clothes.” Luke said. “I can probably make it to your car. Why don’t you go take a hot shower, and I’ll run and grab your suitcase.”

Storm considered his suggestion. She wasn’t nearly as cold now, but it would be really nice to be in her own clothes. “Can you make sure you grab my purse, too?”

“Sure. I’ll be back as fast as I can. But Storm…”

Storm looked at him quizzically. “Yes?”

“Don’t leave the house,” he said stiffly. “I mean it.”

She glared at him. “Am I a prisoner?”

He walked to her in three large strides and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Do you need to be? It’s dangerous out there. I’m not the only shifter in this town. Stay inside. I want your word—and I expect you to keep it this time.”

While it chafed at her to be ordered about, she had to agree that it had been ill-advised to be out in the storm unprepared. “I won’t go anywhere while you’re getting my things.”

Luke studied her a long moment, then nodded. “Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m taking the Jeep. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Fine,” she muttered. “Can I start something to eat while you’re gone?”

Luke smiled. “Sure. There are a couple of steaks I put out earlier. The grill is under the sink. You might find a potato or two and the makings of a salad.”

Now that he wasn’t being so bossy, she gave him a small smile. “I’ll get out of these clothes first, then start something. How long will you be?”

“Shouldn’t take too long. Assuming I don’t find any other stranded motorists trying to brave the worst storm of the season,” he teased.

Storm flushed. “Not funny.”

He grinned as he pulled a t-shirt over his head, then donned his coat. “If you say so. Back in a bit.”

§§§

Once she was alone, Storm sat for a moment in front of the fire again. Luke seemed to think she could control fire. She watched the climbing flames. She’d always enjoyed fires. When she’d been in high school, the kids would often go to the beach and have bonfires and parties. She’d been able to stare at the flames for hours, fascinated by their power.

She focused on the flames with her mind, then visualized them larger—higher. Her eyes widened when the fire began to roar, the flames shooting up the chimney in a burst of power. Shocked, she fell back and landed with a plop on the floor in front of the stone hearth.

He was right. Somehow, she could control fire. Was he right about the weather, too?

Shower and food forgotten, she pulled on the slightly burned coat again and went out the front door. The snow was falling slow and steady. The worst of the storm seemed to have passed.

She focused again, just as she had done with the fire, her mind centered on the gray clouds overhead. But, nothing happened. The snow didn’t increase or decrease or anything. With a frown, she went back inside and shrugged out of the coat.

With a sigh, she walked through the house to his bedroom and removed her cold clothes. She rummaged through his drawers for something warm to put on after her shower. His t-shirts were huge, but she grabbed one and another pair of sweats. She also grabbed a thick pair of socks. The wooden floors were cold.

She was just about to shut the drawer when she spotted a small picture. Frowning, she glanced at it. The image was of a young woman—probably younger than she was—though the woman looked remarkably like her. Same hair and eye color, at any rate.

Was that why he’d been so eager to make love to her? Did she remind him of someone he’d loved and maybe lost? The thought was more than a little disquieting. But, it also made sense. If she reminded him of someone he’d loved, it would certainly explain why he’d been so determined to be with her.

There was no doubt that he wanted her…but was it
her—
the woman in the picture
—
he really wanted?

§§§

Luke barely saw the car on the side of the road this time. It was buried beneath a snowbank. He nearly cringed when he thought about what could have happened if he hadn’t spotted her scarf. TJ would have found her when they cleared the roads—frozen.

The thought was intolerable. Raymond Samuels had a lot to answer for. Somehow, Luke decided, he’d stop the bastard. No man worth the title terrorized a woman. Hell would freeze over before he’d let Samuels anywhere near Storm.

He forced her frozen car door open and once more saw her sitting in the driver’s seat, her eyes closed. For a horrifying moment, he’d wondered if she was even breathing. The thought still chilled him. If he’d waited out the storm, it could have ended much, much differently.