stare back to the fire. How the flames danced, as if they were celebrating a victory. One of the first things you learn as an apprentice witch is how volatile fire is; you never turn your back on it, or think that you have it tamed, because that’s when it attacks. Fire was not one of my favorite elements to work with, and I only used it when absolutely necessary. Noah had no problem working with fire, but he had more power in his little finger than I had in my whole body, and he could control it better than I had ever seen anyone control it before.
I didn’t need Noah to tell me who caused the fire at Written. And it wasn’t Padraigan; setting fire to a building wasn’t quite his style. Gemma’s blood-covered form floated, superimposed, on the flames in the fireplace, then was swiftly replaced by her smug face at Written.
Oh, I could see the conniving little bitch setting fire to the store. If Padraigan had been able to make it back to his lair without being consumed by Noah’s flame, she had probably gotten it in her head to avenge him. Let the little coward get close to me, and I would give her something to write home about.
I could hear the door in the kitchen that led from the garage open and shut, followed by the sound of footsteps crossing the hardwood floor. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Noah leaned over the back of the couch that Harley was on and study her for a moment. He brushed her hair back tenderly and tucked it behind her ear, his eyes sad as he looked at her.
Jealously rushed through me, so acute it was painful. That he should go to her first, touch her so tenderly, especially after what had passed between us before the fire happened.
“I’m taking her up to bed. I’ll be right back down.” Noah whispered, not looking at me. I tried to look away, sliding my eyes back to the fire, but they were drawn back to him as he moved around the couch and bent down, scooping Harley up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. She curled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, the sobs starting to come. I had never seen or heard Harley cry until tonight. Just another strike against Gemma and Padraigan in my mind.
Noah murmured softly to her, leaning his cheek against her head, and all the jealously roiling through me was pushed out of the way by a new emotion, one I was not familiar with and one that I wanted to fight tooth and nail. I loved him. I was IN love with him.
I leaned forward, all the breath knocked out of me. I stuck my head between my knees, dragging in deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart.
No, no, no! I did not need this! I didn’t want to be in love, let alone with Noah. He was an arrogant jerk, rude, too cocky for his own good…but did I really think that anymore? He really hadn’t been all that bad since the wedding, so I couldn’t really use those excuses anymore.
And the way he had taken care of Harley touched my heart in a way no other man had before.
I heard him coming back down the stairs, so I sat up quickly, my heart still beating a mile a minute, and tried to compose myself. He came into the living room and sat down on the couch he had just picked Harley up from and stretched out his long legs, his hands laying palm up on his thighs. He looked exhausted, with soot covering his face and hands, darkening his blonde hair. The urge to go over to him and lay his head in my lap and just hold him came back, its unfamiliar presence something I was becoming more accustomed to.
The room was silent, with only the crackle of the flames breaking the stillness. I didn’t know what to say or even how to say it. I found that in the realization of my love for him, the rage I had been feeling was tamped down; not gone, but down to manageable levels.
“I can put the fire out, if you’d like. It can’t be a comforting sound to you right now.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
“Ironically enough, it’s soothing to me. I appreciate the offer though.” I
I didn’t need Noah to tell me who caused the fire at Written. And it wasn’t Padraigan; setting fire to a building wasn’t quite his style. Gemma’s blood-covered form floated, superimposed, on the flames in the fireplace, then was swiftly replaced by her smug face at Written.
Oh, I could see the conniving little bitch setting fire to the store. If Padraigan had been able to make it back to his lair without being consumed by Noah’s flame, she had probably gotten it in her head to avenge him. Let the little coward get close to me, and I would give her something to write home about.
I could hear the door in the kitchen that led from the garage open and shut, followed by the sound of footsteps crossing the hardwood floor. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Noah leaned over the back of the couch that Harley was on and study her for a moment. He brushed her hair back tenderly and tucked it behind her ear, his eyes sad as he looked at her.
Jealously rushed through me, so acute it was painful. That he should go to her first, touch her so tenderly, especially after what had passed between us before the fire happened.
“I’m taking her up to bed. I’ll be right back down.” Noah whispered, not looking at me. I tried to look away, sliding my eyes back to the fire, but they were drawn back to him as he moved around the couch and bent down, scooping Harley up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. She curled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, the sobs starting to come. I had never seen or heard Harley cry until tonight. Just another strike against Gemma and Padraigan in my mind.
Noah murmured softly to her, leaning his cheek against her head, and all the jealously roiling through me was pushed out of the way by a new emotion, one I was not familiar with and one that I wanted to fight tooth and nail. I loved him. I was IN love with him.
I leaned forward, all the breath knocked out of me. I stuck my head between my knees, dragging in deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart.
No, no, no! I did not need this! I didn’t want to be in love, let alone with Noah. He was an arrogant jerk, rude, too cocky for his own good…but did I really think that anymore? He really hadn’t been all that bad since the wedding, so I couldn’t really use those excuses anymore.
And the way he had taken care of Harley touched my heart in a way no other man had before.
I heard him coming back down the stairs, so I sat up quickly, my heart still beating a mile a minute, and tried to compose myself. He came into the living room and sat down on the couch he had just picked Harley up from and stretched out his long legs, his hands laying palm up on his thighs. He looked exhausted, with soot covering his face and hands, darkening his blonde hair. The urge to go over to him and lay his head in my lap and just hold him came back, its unfamiliar presence something I was becoming more accustomed to.
The room was silent, with only the crackle of the flames breaking the stillness. I didn’t know what to say or even how to say it. I found that in the realization of my love for him, the rage I had been feeling was tamped down; not gone, but down to manageable levels.
“I can put the fire out, if you’d like. It can’t be a comforting sound to you right now.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
“Ironically enough, it’s soothing to me. I appreciate the offer though.” I
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