Wicked Secrets Read online

  This was just like her damned dreams! What if Reid caught them? Oh, God! Ember pushed hard against his chest, trying to tear her mouth from his. Resisting the way his mouth was gentle but demanding on hers, and how she could feel his heart pounding against her palm. Hell, if she got caught, Reid would be so pissed off…and hurt. She couldn’t stand it if she hurt Reid. Or if her mother saw them, the woman would be over the moon. She’d think she’d won already, probably start planning the freaking wedding.

  That thought stirred more fury in Ember than anything else could have at that point. She gave a forceful shove against Owen and barely remembered at the last second to direct her anger into mental violence and not slapping the boy. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists at her sides. Owen looked almost smug, but there was a lingering brightness in his eyes that said he’d enjoyed that much more than he should’ve. It made Ember more furious.

  “That was so stupid! What if we’d gotten caught? I want to control this but I’m not willing to risk my relationship with Reid over it!” she snarled, hearing a strange rustling around her.

  “What relationship? You don’t really care about him, do you? You care about his body, his reputation. You just want to tame the beast so you can feel like you accomplished something!”

  Vaguely, Ember realised Owen didn’t mean what he was saying, he was just saying it to piss her off. But she couldn’t help the sudden urge to hurl something at him. What surprised her then was that something did fly at him: a whirlwind of crisp yellow leaves and dry pine needles.

  “Whoa.” Owen’s eyes went wide, and a sharp pain shot through the back of Ember’s mind. But she couldn’t hold off the anger, couldn’t channel it into control.

  “Okay, that’s good. You’re pissed off. Feel the power, feel the magic controlling the leaves outside your body. Feel it, and pull it back,” Owen instructed calmly, absently reaching out to touch the swirling leaves in front of him and around him. Ember tried to do as he said, closing her eyes and letting her mind extend to absorb the invisible extra limb controlling the leaves. She felt it like a semi-solid hand spreading into tiny tentacles, lifting each of the leaves and twirling them in the air. She could feel it trembling with her rage, and let out a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. The invisi-limb moved with her breath and, as she let the anger seep out of her into the crisp, chilly air, it began dissipating into particles. The leaves twirled gracefully to the ground like multicoloured feathers and the pine needles dropped like pins.

  “Okay, well done. How did that feel? Was it easy or did–” Owen’s smiley comment was knocked out of him as he slammed abruptly to the ground, gasping. Ember rushed to him and grasped his arm to help him up.

  “What was that? What happened?” she asked quickly, glancing around in puzzled worry.

  “I don’t know. Something just hit me from behind– Ember, move!” he yelled, pushing her to the side so she toppled over. Just as she fell, something bright streaked past her face, just an inch away. It went right over Owen’s head, but only by a little bit. Ember turned, scrambling to her feet, and felt her eyes go wide.

  Standing there, leaning on her tree, was a witch. The leader, Moonstone or Moonlight or whatever, was grimacing menacingly, her creepy opaque eyes fixed on her. Ember tried to repress the wracking shiver trying to crawl down her spine.

  “Hello Ember. Now I see why you haven’t come crawling back to us for help. You found yourself a new boy toy,” Moonstone sneered. “He’s obviously not a vampire. What is he? How has he been helping you? Does he have magic in his blood too, or does he just have a magic touch?” Moonstone giggled girlishly, wiggling her fingers. Ember ground her teeth, swallowing rage and embarrassment.

  “Did the vampire dump you or was he just not enough to…satisfy you? I’ll bet you finally realised he was just using you for your body, but maybe, just maybe, you can see him for the monster he is. Can you?” The witch continued to taunt. Ember wasn’t going to play into this bitch’s games.

  “Sorry, I’m not a sex-hungry blood hound like you appear to be.” Ember made a show of sneering at the girl’s short leather skirt and fishnet tights. Last time she’d seen her, she’d been dressed modestly, but that obviously wasn’t her usual style.

  “Well then, who’s this? And do you think he can protect you half as well as we can?” Witchy was out of her mind. Ember let out short harsh laugh.

  “Excuse me?! You’re the ones I need protected from! And by the way, I ought to thank you for ‘awakening the power in me’ or whatever. I kind of like being able to do this…” Ember smirked as a heavy branch lifted from the ground, despite the sharp pain in the back of her head like someone had hit her in the head with a two-by-four. God, this was the heaviest thing she’d ever tried to lift with her magic and it felt like it weighed six times as much as it must’ve done.

  The witch snickered as she watched her. “That must hurt. What good will it do you? You must have less magic in your blood than we’d thought if it takes that much effort just to lift a branch. I can see the pain in your expression.” Moonstone moved forward and grasped the long branch that was now floating a two feet off the ground.

  Before Ember could react, the witch stepped closer and swung out, hitting her square in the side of the head and sending her flying to the ground. She vaguely heard Owen’s cry of horror, but it was muffled like she had water in her ears. More likely, she was bleeding into her brain. She was seeing stars and black dots, but she was in shock, so she couldn’t feel the blow yet. She reached up to her temple and felt wetness. She brought her fingers back to her face and tried to see through the dancing speckles. Blood was on her fingertips.

  Despite her dizziness and disorientation, she pulled herself to her feet and turned to face the witch. The dots cleared from her vision, and the pain started trickling through her skull but she ignored it. The bitch was going to pay, for everything she’d done to her and her friends, and for bloody hitting her with a stick.

  Moonstone was still holding the branch like a baseball bat, but her smug, vicious expression faltered when Ember faced her, and growled. It was a real, animal growl. Ember felt her fangs extending, tasting metal in the back of her throat. All she could make sense of was the boiling rage building in her chest. This bitch wasn’t going to live to see another day, or destroy another vampire.

  “What, can’t fight fair without a weapon?” Ember hissed, flashing her fangs in a savage grin.

  Moonstone backed up a few paces but steadied herself and retorted, “I’ve killed more vampires than you could count. It’s a pity, you could’ve made a great asset, but I’ll just have to kill you too.” Witchy steeled herself and let go of the branch. It stayed in place, floating like it was held by a ghostly baseball player. Moonstone held out her arms wide and Ember could see her lips moving, but couldn’t hear the words over the roaring in her own ears. God, her head hurt, but oddly not as much as it should’ve. Thank god for vampiric healing. The witch still had her creepy cloudy eyes fixed on Ember, but she didn’t appear to be really seeing her. Her lips curled up in a grotesque smirk as she ascended a foot off the floor.

  “Wow, what a parlour trick. Too bad I’ve seen it before,” Ember spat, a red haze clouding her vision.

  The witch didn’t say anything, but the ground seemed to be shivering. Slowly, Ember realised it wasn’t the ground, but the twigs and branches. They were rising off the ground too. Of course the witch would use the wood against her. She counted on one of the branches to stake her.

  The branches hung in the air for a moment, like they were suspended on wires all around her. Then the witch muttered something and the branches began flying at Ember like arrows. She managed to dodge a few, but one caught her arm. It barely scratched her, hurt like a splinter in her finger, but it distracted her for a split second. One heavy branch clattered into her leg, knocking her down. Ember scrambled to wipe the wet leaves off her face and get up.

  She wanted to look back at Owen, but she couldn’t af
ford to lose focus. Blood was pounding in her ears, but it wasn’t just her own. It was the witch’s blood too. She could smell it, a scent like lemon and sage and tulips. Not very appetising, but the way it throbbed at the pulse in the witch’s neck was quite tantalising. She wanted to rip this bitch’s throat out and drain her dry.

  Ember leaped up off the ground and threw herself at the floating witch, smacking into her and knocking her off her invisible podium. The witch screamed before the air was knocked out of her as she slammed into the ground with Ember on top of her.

  Ember snarled, “I’m going to suck your blood and leave you as a dry, ugly corpse.” She enjoyed the flash of terror in the witch’s creepy eyes. It was thrilling, and the extra adrenaline would add a nice zing to the blood. Ember fixed her attention on the racing, throbbing pulse in the witch’s neck, getting ready to sink her fangs into the flesh. She trailed her fingers over the carotid artery, brushing off bits of leaves and dirt, and savouring the scared shiver that shook the struggling girl beneath her.

  “Ember!” The sharp, loud yell broke into her fixated trance, and she reflexively turned her head to see who’d called on her. Owen was pushing himself up from the ground, his eyes wide and scared and his mouth tight. He absently brushed strands of damp, leaf-strewn hair off his face. Ember hissed at him and was about to return to her meal, when a fiery pain shot up her arm. She instantly leaped off the witch, staring in horror at the inch-thick branch protruding from her arm.

  “Ouch! Bitch!” she hissed, unsure what to do with her arm. The branch went in one side and stuck out a few inches on the other. It looked gruesome and it hurt like hell. Ember snarled and got ready to pounce on the witch with renewed fury, but there was no witch to pounce on. The girl had vanished into thin air. Damned witches. She wondered vaguely if she could learn to do that…

  “Oh my God! Ember, are you okay?” Owen gazed at the branch in her arm with his mouth hanging open. The wood burned, like she’d stuck her arm in an oven. She gritted her teeth against the pain and grabbed the long, clean end of the stick, and yanked it out. She let out a howl as the wood came free, creating sparks against her nerves. She dropped the bloody stick and stared for a moment through her arm to the blood dripping onto the ground. Her stomach turned. Gross. Then, slowly, the wound began to heal itself, nerves rejoining, muscles reforming and skin crawling to seal the hole. It was fascinating in a horrible way, like watching major surgery. Owen looked like he might throw up, but he cautiously moved toward her.

  “Ember, you need to calm down. Breathe. It’s okay now. She’s gone. Just relax.” He spoke softly, carefully, like he was speaking to a wild animal. Ember saw why a second later as she glimpsed over his shoulder. There were mini whirlwinds of leaves again, and trees were shuddering. And…there were flickers of orange light dancing in tiny pools on the ground. Ember was too disoriented to work out what she was seeing, what the orange sparkles were. But as the sharp pain in the back of her head became apparent, she found herself again. Oh! Bugger!

  She gasped and clutched her head, feeling the strange invisi-limb that she’d barely noticed before dissolving into the air. The leaves tumbled to the ground and the flickering lights dissipated, and the pain in her head started to melt away. But she felt weak all of a sudden. So weak she couldn’t even stand. She crumpled to the floor, gasping.

  “Ember!? Ember, are you okay?” That is a very stupid question, Owen. He knelt beside her and brushed her hair off her damp forehead. His fingers came away red with her blood. Her skull didn’t hurt, despite the horrid crack the witch had given her, and she guessed it had healed already. It probably wasn’t still bleeding even, but the blood wouldn’t have dried yet.

  “Ember, you need help.” Well, duh! Was Owen always so good at pointing out the obvious?

  “Get-get Reid!” she breathed, her lungs feeling tight and her throat dry. She couldn’t get enough air and her stomach hurt, like she was having an asthma attack and being punched in the gut at the same time.

  “No, I’m not leaving you here! She could come back! You need blood. I can give you that!” Owen panted in a strained voice, smoothing more hair off her face with a shaking hand.

  “No! No blood. I won’t-I won’t feed on you!” Ember croaked, starting to feel light-headed from the lack of air reaching her lungs.

  “Ember, you lost blood and I can’t imagine how much power you must’ve been using without even realising it. You need blood right now, and you’re going to take it!” Owen demanded, sounding stronger despite the slight quiver in his voice.

  Ember watched helplessly as he picked up an angular stone from under some leaves and sliced his forearm with it. Blood beaded up and rolled down the skin of his arm, a startling crimson against the paleness. The blood smelled so good, much better than the witch’s. It smelled like honey and apples and lavender. And the bright colour looked oddly seductive. Ember felt herself leaning toward it and Owen shifted closer, putting his other arm around her shoulders and holding the cut up to her. She wanted to resist but she couldn’t. She glanced at his face to make sure it was really okay, and he smiled weakly, nodding. His amethyst eyes were a little hazy but trusting.

  Ember put her lips to his arm and lapped the blood. The second it touched her taste buds, it zinged through her tongue and down her throat and instead of hitting her stomach like Reid’s had, it hit her heart, making her pulse jerk and race. Images and memories and thoughts that were not her own tumbled through her head. Suddenly, just like that, she knew Owen. She knew him for who he was, not who he used to be, or who he’d become, or who he pretended to be. It was like seeing into his soul, like feeling his mind and tasting his emotions.

  She could feel that he cared for her deeply. In some ways, he cared for her like a brother for a sister, but in other ways he cared about her the way Reid did. He saw her as strong and feisty and brave, compassionate and smart.

  Ember vaguely noted that his thoughts were muddling through hers, making lines blur and creating intimate connections. It was different to drinking Reid’s blood; less sexual, more emotional. The blood swirled on her tongue, and a vibe of life and energy thrummed through her whole body.

  And then Owen’s mind tangled in hers, like tongues in a passionate kiss, and she almost wanted to give into the probing, intimate sensation. Almost. But one thought of hers got caught in the crosshairs – Reid – and she broke away abruptly, jerking her thoughts back to herself and pulling her lips from his arm. She threw herself backward to distance them, just for good measure, breathing hard and staring with wide eyes at the boy in front of her.

  “Oh my God, what was that!? Did you feel that too?” Ember gasped, wiping her mouth with one hand and trying to catch her breath.

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, I felt it.” He was looking as stunned as she was, and slightly gruesome with the blood still seeping from his flesh, smeared all over his forearm.

  “What-what the hell was that!?” she spluttered, her heart thudding in her chest. That was...unbelievable.

  “I...I might have an idea. It’s the only thing I can think of that would make sense, and it might explain why I have this link to you. You see, back when witches were still thriving, the Goddess – the Goddess of Earth, Mother Nature, whatever you want to call her –developed a way for the witches to find the…the person that was right for them. Their Soulmate.” Owen was looking at his arm as he spoke, rubbing at the blood. Ember wasn’t sure how the history lesson would explain what just happened between them, but she listened anyway.

  “The Goddess made it possible for the witches to feel who they were meant to be with. Whenever they met the person that was right, there was a link. A bond. Sometimes it was something like love at first sight; sometimes it was like a silver string attached to each of their hearts, drawing them together. But whenever they kissed, or sometimes even just touched, it created a sensation so strong it bound them emotionally. So it didn’t matter if they hated each other when they met, because afterwards they’
d be in love, because they were meant to be.”

  Ember was getting anxious now’ she had an idea of where this was heading and she didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to hear the rest of this story. But Owen continued on, oblivious to her growing panic.

  “Over the years, as the witches died out, the magic became weaker. It was diluted by human-witch relationships and such. It’s rare to find two witches together who are Soulmates anymore, but they do exist still. Sometimes the link can manifest in strange ways. Like when a witch or warlock’s powers are awakened, they can sense their Soulmate without knowing who it is, or even where in the world that person is. And just sometimes...the link only works one way.” Owen stopped and by now Ember was seeing what he was saying, but she refused to accept it. It made sense, though; it seemed almost inevitable due to their close history: they were such close friends, their families were close, and they could’ve been more than friends if he hadn’t turned to crime. Their parents always said they were perfect for each other.

  Always said they were Soulmates.

  But that didn’t mean they were. It wasn’t possible.

  “Ember, I think we’re Soulmates.” Owen finally said the exact last thing she wanted to hear, and she felt her heart almost jump out of her chest in terror. She couldn’t be Soulmates with someone she hadn’t known in four years. She didn’t like Owen that way, she really didn’t. He was attractive, sure, and slowly becoming a friend again, but she cared for Reid. Only Reid. She wouldn’t choose Owen over him. No way could she accept that she didn’t have a choice about it.

  “Ember? Ember, you need to say something.”

  She looked up at Owen, barely meeting his deep purple eyes. What was she supposed to say? “I...I need to...to go. I need to go get cleaned up. Um...” And with that stuttered excuse, she got up and stumbled her way through the trees back to the dorms. Thankfully, Owen didn’t try to stop her or follow her. She might’ve taken his head off if he had.