Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
It was closing in on us.
“Well, I can’t Big Bad Wolf the fire down,” she said, crushing herself against me.
I’m not proud of it, given the danger of the situation, but some part of me liked how she sought me when she was afraid, when she needed some extra support.
I wouldn’t pretend to understand that.
Emotions, something I’d been mostly devoid of for two hundred years, still felt messy and complicated to me, despite being fed small doses of them since my curse first started.
Whatever this one was, though, it was something warm and comfortable. Something that made me want to be strong enough for both of us.
“No,” I said, pulling her in close at my side when the fire tried to lick at the edges of her ponytail. “I think this is a test not for your spirit, but for your magic,” I told her.
“You think I can spell the fire down?” she asked, dubious. “If that were possible, why aren’t wildfires contained by a team of witches instead of fire departments?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But you need to try,” I told her as the fire moved closer, burning up the very ground around us, making the air feel thin, and I imagined Roxanne was starting to struggle to breathe, the fire sucking all of the oxygen out of the small space.
“Okay. Alright. Ah… magic. Um…”
“Fire. It’s put out by water,” I reminded her.
“Right. Yeah. Okay. Um,” she said looking up at the sky, then raising her arms.
“What are you doing?” I asked after a moment or two with nothing happening.
“Shush,” she demanded, closing her eyes again, focusing on her breathing.
I stood, wide-eyed, panic surging through my veins, as the flames moved closer and closer, the heat enough to put hell to shame.
I was starting to lose hope, to make peace with my horrific, painful end, when I felt it.
Just a spot of something wet and cool on my forehead.
Then another.
And another.
Soon, my face was wet.
Rain, cool and refreshing against the heat of the flames, was rushing down my face in small rivulets.
“That’s it,” I said, looking over at Roxanne, still finding her eyes closed, her arms thrown up. Her lips were moving as she whispered some sort of spell. “You’re doing it,” I said as the raindrops got fatter and more incessant. From a light sun shower to a torrential downpour.
The flames stopped growing.
And within a few moments, their height started to go down.
The ground around us that had flames threatening our feet just a moment before was sopping with puddles of mud that were rising.
And rising.
And rising.
Until I felt the water sloshing into my shoes.
“Uh oh,” Roxy said, eyes shooting open. Her gaze went to the ground that was quickly becoming a pool.
It went above our feet, ankles, knees.
The rain had banked the fire.
And the drops had stopped.
But the water levels continued to rise.
“I can’t swim,” I admitted as the water teased over my thighs.
“Really?” Roxanne asked, brows scrunching as she looked at me. “Three hundred years and it never occurred to you to hop in a pool and figure out how to float?” she asked.
“I had… other things in mind,” I admitted, chest feeling constricted as the water started to wrap around my waist.
Roxanne reached out, grabbing my hand, squeezing tight as the levels continued to rise.
“Don’t panic,” she demanded, but it was getting too late for that. The water was at our shoulders now, and I was starting to feel the ground disappear from under my shoes.
“Just move your arms,” she said, showing me how. “And kick your feet a little. Not too frantically,” she added when I started to do just that. “Just slow, calm movements. We’re mostly water. We float. Don’t panic.”
“You need to do something here,” I said, the water rocking calm waves under my chin.
“Ah, yeah,” she agreed. “But I need you to be able to not drown first,” she said.
She waited, watching me, making sure I was getting the hang of keeping my head above water.
“Okay, hold onto me.”
“I need my arms,” I reminded her.
“You can manage with just one and I don’t want you to float away,” she said, taking my one hand as she flapped the other a little faster, and using it to grab the front waistband of her pants.
I’m not proud of this part.
But my knuckles grazed the soft skin of her belly as my fingers gripped the fabric not only of her pants but her panties, and I realized just how close my hand was to a part of her that I’d been having a really hard time not fantasizing about.
Despite the life-or-death need to focus, to stay calm and controlled, desire shot through my system. It was gasoline through my veins. And the way her belly contracted feeling my touch was the match that lit the fire that burned through me, threatening to engulf me completely.