Page 21 of Morning's Light

There were no other cars in the driveway, he noted. Which meant introductions with the family would have to wait. There was always next time.

It took a bit of finagling to get the door open using only his pinky and forefinger. He yelled for help, but no one came. An open door to his right revealed what looked to be a sitting room of some sort, so he carried her in and laid her gently on the sofa.

Ten minutes later, Aisanna breathed deep, blinking her eyes open and sucking in a pained gasp when the bruises on her ribs flared up. “What…ouch.”

“I’m sorry. Your head is probably killing you. Do you want me to get some ice?” She tried to roll over, and Elon placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her still. “It’s all right, just stay down.”

“What the hell are you doing in the house?” She twisted around to face him, her features a mixture of worry and agitation.

“I let myself in. You passed out in the yard.”

“I don’t pass out, Elon. Ever. Hand me the bottle,” she said, pointing to the sideboard.

He hadn’t seen the bar until she mentioned it. Now that he took note of it, he saw several glass decanters of amber-colored liquid. “Sure. Okay.”

He felt her watching him as he rose to pour her a glass.

“Why does it feel like I just rode a tornado like a champion in a bull riding competition?”

“Not sure. Maybe because you were in a car accident and your body is trying to heal but you decided it was a nice day for a walk.”

“Funny man,” she said dryly. “It was a rhetorical question.”

Aisanna stared at Elon’s back, embarrassed for showing any kind of feebleness. Worse, he’d been around to witness it, and now she had a feeling he’d treat her differently. Like she was something frail and weak. Something that needed protecting.

He was back in seconds, holding out a snifter filled with brandy. She slugged it down in a single gulp and closed her eyes when her mouth burned and stomach heaved. “Shit.”

The trail of fire leading down to her gut reminded her of her visions. Or whatever the hell they were. They came back to her hard and fast until she nearly lost her breath.

Her family in flames.

A black pit opening in the sky, rogue magic diving into the earth with poisonous tendrils until everyone went mad from the chaos.

The world burning—and her at the center of it.

Laughing.

It was the last thing she’d seen before blacking out in the yard.

“Are you going to talk to me?” Elon asked. He paced in front of the fireplace, twice, before resting his hand on the mantel.

She jerked up, her hands releasing their grip on the decorative pillow she’d clutched, the empty brandy snifter forgotten on the floor. “I’m not sure what happened.” She turned away. “I was…I was outside. Then it went dark. Maybe I wasn’t as ready to be vertical as I’d thought.”

“You were outdoors without any kind of gloves or scarf. You’re lucky your hands didn’t freeze.”

Frowning, she glanced down at her red fingers. And saw that she was still wearing Elon’s jacket. “You can take this back. I think I’ll be fine.”

“You know, there was something odd. When I first pulled up in front of the house…I saw you walking.”

“Creeper.” But the humor fell flat.

“There was some weird writing on your forehead.” Elon gestured to the general area on his own face. “I’m not sure. I blinked and it was gone.”

She stared at him for a moment, silent. Then gave a small test to see if she could call her magic. It came willingly enough, therefore not another death rune. She forced a smile to her face and tried to pin it on her cheeks. “Your eyes were playing tricks on you.” She pointed to her unblemished skin. “See?”

Elon gave his eyes a rub. “I guess they were. You would tell me, right? If there was something going on?”

Aisanna ignored his concern and pushed to her feet, wobbling past him. She turned her back to the mirror. Didn’t want to look over her shoulder to see her reflection. They stood there in silence as the seconds ticked on.