Larkstorm (14 page)

18

I decide to wake up. It’s that simple. One minute my mind wades through endless nothingness and the next, I open my eyes.

I couldn’t be away from Beck any longer.

My eyes flutter for a moment and adjust to the soft light filtering through the sheer curtains. Beck’s head is crushed against the side of the couch, his fingers entwined with mine.

I study his sleeping face. His rosy lips and long, black lashes. The bronze of his skin. There’s nothing, not one thing, about him that indicates he’s Sensitive.

But then, I can’t see it in myself either.

His blond waves tempt me. I run my free hand over them and as his soft hair tickles my palm, a deep sense of peace spreads through my body. It feels wonderful. Beck stirs a little but doesn’t wake.

I scoot down until my face is even with his. “Beck,” I whisper. “Wake up.”

He rubs his face into the hard cushion but gives no other sign of being awake.

“Beck.” I trace my finger along his cheek.

A smile spreads across his lips, and he reaches for me.

“You really are an evil witch,” he murmurs groggily.

“That’s not funny.”

“You’re awake.” He watches me in awe, as if he thought it would never happen. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Great, actually. Like someone took me apart and fixed me up better.” It’s true. All the anguish and horror has evaporated and I feel amazing. But being around Beck has always had that effect on me.

My stomach growls and a small laugh escapes my lips. “Hungry.”

“Let’s get you some breakfast.” He straightens up and lifts me to my feet. “But give me a minute. I just want to look at you. Make sure you’re okay.”

I stand still, not sure what he wants me to do or what exactly he
plans
to do. I must be making a crazy face because he chuckles.

“What?”

He grins. “I can’t remember ever seeing you so confused. What are you thinking?”

“I was wondering if you were going to whip out your magic wand or something.”

Beck cringes and buries his face in his hand. “Ahhh, no.”

Please let the floor open and swallow me now. I try to look everywhere but at Beck, but of course, I can’t look anywhere
but
at him.
 
 
 
 
 
 

“All right then, change of subject.” A faint red tint creeps toward his ears. At least I’m not the only one mortified by my slip. “You feel great, right? But let’s make sure you’re physically okay.”

Beck’s eyes rake me over as if he were searching for something. He runs his hand down my arms, over my neck and across the small of my back. Each time he touches me, tiny sparks leap off my skin.

When he’s finished, I spin and end with a dramatic pose.

“And do you like what you see?” I tease.

“Very much.” Beck hugs me tight and I feel safe. “You have no idea how relieved I am.”

His hands trail up my spine before settling them on my shoulders. “For the record, we don’t use wands. At least not the kind you’re thinking of.” He winks at me.

I punch him on the arm. Hard.

“Okay, then,” he says, rubbing the spot where my fist made contact. “Let’s get some breakfast. Unless you want a shower first?” He takes my hand again.

The sensation of his skin on mine sends my heart into a spastic jig. “Normally, I’d say ‘yes’ to the shower, but I’m starving.”

He leans in and exaggerates an inhale. “At least you don’t smell bad.” His grin widens and I give him a playful shove while keeping a tight hold on his hand. I’m never letting go again.

Beck squeezes mine back and leads me through the hall and into the ancient dining room. Not that it’s old looking. It’s just full of old stuff. Antiques and what not. Beck’s parents are avid collectors.

Between my welcoming committee and the people from the other night on the lawn, I thought there were at least a hundred people here, but the room is empty.

“Where’s everyone?” I ask.

“There’s a makeshift kitchen out back.” He hesitates and his eyes dart toward the kitchen door. I can tell he’s not telling me everything.

“And?”

“Well, we didn’t know what to expect. My parents and Bethina wanted to be prepared, so they called a Gathering.” He says the word like it has meaning to me and glances at me. I can tell he’s trying to gauge my reaction. “You floored everyone showing up by yourself with that storm in tow. Quite impressive, really.”

“So I
did
do that? Cause
d
the storm?” I follow his eyes back toward the kitchen. There’s something out there he’s nervous about me knowing. I keep talking, drawing his attention back to me. Whatever it is can wait until I get a few answers. “Why was it punishing me though? Shouldn’t it attack my enemies or something?”

“Punishing you? What do you mean?” He lifts my hand and places a kiss on my wrist, which sends my heart into a chaotic flutter. “Breakfast awaits.”

He leads me into the kitchen. There are no appliances
—
at least nothing that I can identify as an appliance
—
just counters, cabinets and two plates piled high with food. Bethina must have prepared them for us.

I’ve recovered enough to resume my train of thought. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was intentionally trying to fluster me. “The storm. Every time I…” I trail off. The question is on my lips, but how to form it so I won’t sound crazy? “Every time I thought I was getting close to you, it pummeled me. I don’t think that storm wanted me to get here. Are you sure it wasn’t Annalise?”

Beck hands me a plate and then takes his. Bethina’s specialties fill mine, along with a large serving of fruit. Strange delicacies I’ve never seen before cover Beck’s plate. “Annalise can’t do that. We’re positive it was all you.”

He tosses a plump blueberry into the air and catches it between his teeth. It’s an impressive move
—
but one I’ve seen him do a hundred times.

“So your parents called a…a Gathering?”

We’re back in the dining room now, and he balances his plate on one hand while pulling out a chair for me with the other. It looks expensive, old and frail. And we’ve never been allowed to sit on them before. Last thing I need to do is break one of Beck’s dad’s prized chairs. But to my surprise, it feels solid beneath me when I fall into it.

“Yeah, it’s a group of Light witches, the leaders from each of the Five Societies and their delegates. But also my parents’ security detail, family members, and tutors for Bea
—
and you and me now, I guess.” Beck takes the chair next to mine and immediately bites into a weird white blob-looking thing.

“Bea’s here?” I ask. Like us, Beck’s younger sister should be at school, with her housemates.

“Bea’s always been here. Light witches don’t go to State schools. My parents just pretended she went away for our sake.”

I gape at him. So they’ve been lying to us, too. Is there anyone I can trust?

“You should try this.” He tears off a piece of the nasty looking food and places it near my fruit. “It’s delicious.”

I poke at the doughy white surface. It yields beneath my finger. “What is it?”

“A delicacy from before the Long Winter. It’s called a pork bun.”

I blanch. “Pig? You want me to eat pig?”

“It’s good. Try it.”

I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “We don’t eat meat, Beck. It’s barbaric and taxes the ecosystem.”

“Lark, people have eaten meat for thousands of years.”

“I can’t. It’s gross.” I nudge the disgusting thing to the edge of my plate and dig into a serving of Bethina’s pepper and corn fritta on the opposite side. I notice he hasn’t taken another bite of the ‘delicious’ white blob and is instead inhaling pancakes.

“You don’t like it either!” I accuse.

In defiance, he shoves another piece of the pork bun, which oozes blood-like red sauce, into his mouth and chews carefully.

“I’m getting used to it.” He swallows hard and takes a long sip of water. When I raise my eyebrows, he says, “Fine. It’s disgusting. But it’s what Light witches eat, and I’ve got to eat it.”

“Well, I’m not going to.”

Beck forces down another piece of pork bun and I roll my eyes at him. “What were you saying about security?” I ask, hoping to get him back on track.

“The State isn’t my parents’ biggest fan.” It’s a simple statement. Like saying ‘I breathe air.’ Just a matter of fact. “They only pretend to work for it.”

“So my mother–”

“Hates us.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. We’re mated. You’ve visited her home. She
let
you go after the attacks. She could have placed you in jail.” My words tumble out fast and run incoherently into one another. “Bethina said my father was…” I struggle with the next words. “A Light witch. Mother can’t hate Light witches if she was bound to one.”

Beck massages his knuckles and stares past me. Avoids my gaze, is probably more accurate. “That’s kind of her thing
—
hating people.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hoped Bethina would explain all this.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dark witches draw their power from fear and anger. They’re destroyers. We Light witches are creators, thriving on calm and happiness.”

“The storm
—
as I became more upset, it grew in intensity. But how? How did I do it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. You just did.”

I play with the fruit on my plate. “What happened at school? I know Annalise and Callum turned you in, but why?”

“To separate us. After their visit, I suspected what was happening. When Mr. Proctor stopped me after I…” He blushes and casts his eyes down. “Kissed you, he said I needed to go immediately to the head’s office, but wouldn’t tell me why. I thought they were going to hold me, so they could take you.”

“Take
me
?”

Beck pushes his food around with his fork and stabs a weird tube of meat. “Annalise wasn’t lying when she said that group was looking for you. I thought maybe your mother sent for you, as a protective measure. I guess Annalise realized I would try to stop them if they attempted to separate us.”

“I wouldn’t have gone.”

“You think I went willingly?” His lip curls upward. “Anyway, they put me in an empty room and a little while later Kyra, Maz, Ryker and two younger students were brought in. They pretended I wasn’t there.” He clenches his jaw. “Ryker wouldn’t even look at me.

“It wasn’t too much longer before Annalise showed up, without Callum, and left with everyone but me. She didn’t speak to me.” He pushes his hand through his hair and it falls into messy disarray. “Then my parents arrived, and brought me to Summer Hill.”

“Was Kyra okay? Did they hurt her?”

Beck rolls his shoulders back as if shaking off something unpleasant. “Kyra was fine. She actually seemed excited
—
dare I say happy
—
to see Annalise.”

The thought of my best friend hanging out with Annalise makes my skin crawl.

“And Maz? He was at the house before I left. And on the train.”

“Annalise probably sent him back to get you.” Beck exhales loudly. “Maz is a Dark witch. I’ve known for a while, but he and I, well
—
it never seemed to matter before.” Disappointment seeps into his voice.

“He told me to run. He wanted me to find you.”

Beck scrunches up his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah. He asked me why I didn’t want to call my mom and all. But he was helping me. At least, I think he was.”

This causes Beck to break into a wide grin. “He’s a good guy, even if he is Dark.”

“What about Kyra? Ryker? Are they Dark too?”

“All the other students were. I was the only Light witch
student
at school.” His voice drops and I can tell from the way he holds his shoulders he’s agitated.

A hole rips through my gut and my head threatens to explode. “So it’s okay for Maz and Ryker to be Dark, but not Kyra. What about me? Is it okay for me to be Dark?” I’m shouting, angry with the way he’s talking about my best friend.

“I don’t know. I’ve always thought of them
—
Kyra included
—
as my friends. But now…” He rubs my back, like he always does when I get upset, and my anger melts away.

Still, all those times at school when the two of them were at each other’s throats for seemingly no reason. And how it just started, suddenly, one day after Kyra returned from her brother’s binding. It all makes sense now. They both knew who the other was.