Page 33 of Fire Touched

‘Enough, Kill,’ Elijah says, his voice low. ‘Carter, please, help her.’

Moira tugs me back, squeezing my hand.

Carter steps over my mate, kneeling beside her. For a moment, his eyes close, focused. Then he opens them, and the water droplets clinging to Katie’s mouth rise into the air. I’ve seen her do something like that when she steps out of the shower, but nothing like this. Every droplet is pulled up, into the air. ‘I’m sorry about this,’ Carter says.

Before I can ask why he’s sorry, Katherine’s mouth opens, and half a river’s worth of water is pulled out of her. Her body jerks against the movement. Moira’s hand moves, stroking her hair protectively, murmuring reassurances.

After a moment, Katie’s eyes snap open and she moans, but water still drains out of her by the bucketful. I hold her closely. ‘It’s okay.’ I want to push everyone else away from her. ‘Carter, slow down.’

Katherine makes a choking sound, and her nails dig into me.

‘Stop,’ I order, and he lowers his hands.

Carter reaches out for her. ‘I’m sorry. Are you okay?’

‘What happened?’ Moira asks, still stroking her hair.

Katherine’s eyes are wide and glassy, full of fear.

‘Everyone, fuck off,’ I growl. I draw Katherine up and hold her close, rocking her gently in my arms. ‘It’s alright, I’ve got you.’

Katie clings to me like she never has before. We stay like that for what could have been a minute or an hour before everyone concludes she will not speak tonight.

I press kisses onto her clammy skin, then draw her up into my arms. ‘I’m taking you to bed.’ I let a little of my fire power course over my skin to warm her, and she snuggles closer to me.

Setting her down on our bed in the guesthouse, I wriggle back to really look at her. Even when she’d been abducted, attacked, and set her room on fire, Katherine never looked like this. Her whole frame is stiff, though she can’t be that cold as she’s been flush with my heated skin. Her knees are drawn up, arms wrapped around them. Her long, red hair is still damp, and her skin is splotchy, eyes bloodshot.

Somehow, though I don’t doubt her skills or magic, I know Katherine was drowning.

By the amount of water Carter dragged from her lungs, I know she was nearly a victim of the river. But how?

Katherine would never, could never, do this herself. So someone else did it to her. But there was no one else around when I plunged in and pulled her out.

I resolve not to push her if she doesn’t want to talk, despite the burning need to know who to set aflame for doing this to my mate. Slowly, I inch up on the bed—despite our wet clothes—and hold my arms out for her.

Her gaze flicks up to mine, and she hesitates only a moment before shuffling over to me. I call a little more fire to my skin, still shirtless, to warm and comfort her. After a minute, gently stroking her wet head, I whisper, ‘What happened?’

Katherine nuzzles into me. She’s quiet for so long that I think she won’t talk. When I peer down to see her face, her eyes flutter closed. She’s exhausted. With my heat, the faintest touches of colour have returned to her skin, but not nearly enough.

She’s still too wet, too cold. ‘Come here, love. May I?’ My fingers hover at her waist, by the hem of her shirt. ‘Let me get you warm.’

Katherine nods, so I gently guide her arms up and start taking her sopping clothes off. I dry her off with my fire, and get her into new clothes. I change the blankets quickly, then set her back down. I get changed, too, then sit beside her. Her eyes are closed, her hair softly framing her pale face. ‘It’s going to be okay. I’m going to fix this.’ I kiss her head.

I leave a fire burning in the hearth, so she doesn’t cool in my absence, then take the bottle and head to the kitchen.

Everyone’s there, at the table, having a late dinner. They all shoot to their feet when they see me. Moira gets to me first. ‘Is she okay? What happened?’

I shake my head, my gaze landing on Carter. ‘She hasn’t said. I got her dry and put her to bed.’

‘That’s so strange,’ Elijah says, voice tight with concern.

I open the fridge and grab a bottle of wine—white, not Starlight—and start pouring glasses while the others speculate amongst themselves.

Ella’s hands are twisted on the table before her as she looks up at Carter. ‘You probably saved her life. Why wouldn’t the water come up?’

He shakes his head. ‘Magic. That’s all it could be. But I don’t know how.’

‘I already informed my Dad,’ Elijah says, ‘and he’s seriously worried.’

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