First Magic by Raven Steele (ebook reader screen txt) 📖

I fell through the night like a shooting star, except I wasn’t a star. I was a complete idiot. What was I thinking falling from this distance in my condition?

Before I could come up with an answer, I smashed into the cold water. I kicked my legs hard, but they may as well have been taped together. I simply had no strength to fight my way to the surface.

Just as I was about to panic, an arm came around my waist and pulled me upwards. I gasped for air the second my head broke the surface. The person saving me was the same person I’d just accused of wanting to hurt me.

I relaxed against Christian’s chest, too exhausted to offer any assistance. I dreaded the conversation we were going to have once we reached the shore. Jumping from the bridge had been a bad decision, and I was sure he was going to tell me that. When my feet touched the murky bottom, I stumbled with him until we both collapsed to the ground, waves lapping at our legs.

I rolled onto my back and stared into the sky, which was blacker than ever. The stillness of the night was broken up by our labored breathing, and that’s when I realized how dangerous my foolish decision had been. I could’ve hurt not only myself but him too.

I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again. What could I possibly say? I guess something was better than nothing. “I’m so sorry.”

He rolled toward me. Propping his head up with his hand, elbow on the ground, he smiled. “You still don’t get it, do you?” He pushed wet, stray hairs away from my face. “I would never let anything happen to you.”

“In the woods, it really wasn’t you, was it?”

His smile disappeared, and he glanced all around. “It wasn’t. We need to get out of here.”

He stood and offered his hand. This time I accepted it without question.

“Do you know who it might’ve been?” I asked as I wrapped my arms around my shivering body.

He shook his head, seemingly oblivious to the cold. “A couple of weeks ago, I came running up here. I thought I was being followed too.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes.” He guided me back to the trail. I could tell he wanted to move faster, but he didn’t rush me. He kept his head on a swivel, alert and ready. When we heard a branch snap, his hand tightened on mine, and he pulled me close. “Keep moving. It’s probably nothing, an animal maybe."

We made it to his car alive, no thanks to me. He opened the passenger door.

“I don’t want to get your seats wet,” I said.

“That’s the last thing I care about. Get in.”

After helping me in and handing me a blanket, he moved to the rear of the car and opened the hatch. A second later he jumped in next to me holding a duffle bag and a towel. He removed his shirt and dried off.

“Let me see your arm,” he said.

“Why?” I asked suddenly suspicious.

His eyebrows lifted. “Seriously?”

“Sorry, bad habit.” I moved my arm out from under the blanket. I wasn’t used to trusting others, but I was ready to start with Christian. What else did the poor guy have to do?

Christian rolled up my sleeve revealing the cut I’d gotten earlier. “That’s bad.”

“I’ve seen worse.”

“I’m sure you have.” He pulled out several butterfly bandages. “I don’t think you need stitches, but you might want to have your uncle look at it. Speaking of Jake, how are you going to explain the paint and these injuries?”

“Could we go to your place so I can wash it off?”

He hesitated with a panicked expression.

“Never mind,” I blurted. “I’ll stick to my original plan and sneak into my bedroom.”

“Why don’t you want your uncle to know?”

“I don’t want him to worry.”

He pursed his lips, thinking. “You can come to my place.”

He started the car and turned up the heat. Halfway there, Christian took my hand and pulled me next to him.

“Are you getting warm?” he asked.

“Mmm,” I moaned. I was so warm I began to fall asleep.

“Llona?”

I sighed deeply.

“Llona, wake up. We’re here.”

I opened my eyes, but still didn’t move because I was shocked to find myself in my current position. My head was lying on Christian’s bare chest with his arm wrapped around me. I could smell his skin, hear his heartbeat.

“How long have I been out?”

“About twenty minutes.”

I sat up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He grinned. “And I didn’t mean to enjoy it.”

My face reddened, and I turned away.

In front of us loomed a huge white house with tall pillars leading from the roof to the ground. Two wings spanned out from a thick center and on each side of the front double doors, two lions perched regally. The house looked more like a hotel than a home.

My mouth fell open. “Is this where you live?”

Christian didn’t look up; he was rummaging through a bag. “Yup.”

“I had no idea you lived on top of the hill.” It was one of the richest places to live in Wildemoor, and the further up people built, the richer they were. I didn’t think we could get any higher.

“It’s too big for me, but my father loves being the center of attention.” He pulled out a shirt and smelled it.

“Remind me again, what does he do?”

He must’ve found the shirt acceptable because he pulled it over his head. “Buys companies.”

“He must have great business sense,” I said, still in awe of the house.

“That he does, but that’s where his good qualities end.” Christian jumped out of the car.

When he opened my door, I asked, “Is it okay that I’m here?”

He paused and darted his eyes to the house and then back to me. “It should be fine. My dad can be kind of weird sometimes, so just ignore him if he is. Come on.”

His sudden nervousness made me feel guilty, and I instantly regretted coming. It had been a strange enough night without having to meet a weird adult.

Christian opened the door to a grand entryway. I could practically see my reflection in the polished floor. In the center of the massive entrance was a marble staircase that swept up to a second floor.

“You have got to be kidding,” I whispered, afraid the sound of my voice might break the crystal chandelier above us.

“And that’s why I never have people over. I mean, seriously, who can feel comfortable in this?”

Christian turned left at the top of the stairway. We were about halfway down a wide hallway when a male voice said, “Christian? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

“Who’s with you?” he called from behind slightly parted double doors.

Christian motioned his head for me to follow him. He pushed open the doors, revealing an office or a library, or I guess both. The walls were lined with dark wooden shelves, and there were at least four love seats in the room and several tall Queen Anne chairs. A man that I assumed to be Christian’s dad sat behind a long, mahogany desk with a laptop in front of him. He was thin with a full head of blond hair and a narrow face. His eyes were the same almond shape as Christian’s, but they were dark blue instead of Christian’s electric blue. He had very few lines on his face, unless they were hidden behind his five o’clock shadow.

“Who’s your guest?” he asked Christian, but he kept his eyes on me.

Christian hesitated, as if embarrassed. “This is . . . Llona.”

He may as well have said, “This is the devil” because all of a sudden his dad stood and the lines I thought were missing from his face appeared in angry creases across his forehead.

“What are you doing with her?” he demanded.

It was the way he said it that made me step closer to Christian. It wasn’t a generalization, like ‘what are you doing with a girl,’ it was directed entirely at me.

“Calm down, Dad. As you can see, she ran into some trouble. I brought her here to clean up, that’s all.”

The lines in his forehead disappeared, but he still didn’t sit. His gaze turned toward me, and he asked, “What happened?”

“She ran into some—”

“Can’t she speak for herself?”

I searched frantically for my voice. “Some students got a little too excited in their celebration,” I croaked. “I got caught in the crossfire.”

He glanced at Christian. “You can’t afford to be careless.”

“I wasn’t, and none of this was her fault, Dad.”

He shrugged and sat back down. “It never is. Show her to the guest bathroom and get her some clothes in the