Fire and Flame by Anya Breton

face.
    “Good morning,” Vanessa said in a sweet, singsong voice that made Sara’s teeth ache like the time she’d had a cavity and had eaten too much chocolate. “How did you sleep? I slept excellently.”
    Sara hadn’t slept. With the countless cups of coffee in her belly and the worries of what would become of her future, she’d moved about on the bed like a barrel stuck rolling in a stream. All night.
    It certainly hadn’t helped that Vanessa’s car had been in front of the house when she’d finally come home. Vanessa going out and coming back here after was proof Brent had been with her. So Sara hadn’t needed to see the skimpy tank top and shorts barely covering Vanessa’s rear to know what had happened while she’d been away.
    He was such a hypocrite.
    The hypocrite himself stumbled into the kitchen seconds later. The wrinkled T-shirt and pair of relaxed jeans he wore looked like he’d pulled them up off the floor. Brent rubbed his eyes groggily exactly as he had yesterday. But today was worlds apart from yesterday.
    Sara whirled around and tossed her half eaten bowl of cereal into the sink. She stomped past the pair toward her bedroom. Sara was no longer sure she could remain in their company without resorting to the Fire witches’ famed aggression.
    Vanessa’s smug voice echoed in the distance as Sara mounted the stairs. “What’s her problem?”
    There was no answer from Brent.
    Footsteps pounding on their stairs behind her explained it. Brent caught her door before she could slam it in his face. And then after an agile move, he was inside the pink room with her. She eyed him warily as he closed the door.
    What did he want? Didn’t he have enough witch on his hands downstairs?
    “You didn’t give me a chance to explain before you took off last night.” Brent’s voice was as hard as steel. The half squinted eyes staring across the room could have been from anger as easily as frustration.
    Sara didn’t want to know what that bitch was doing here.
    She opened her mouth to speak the words but promptly closed it.
    Was she…? Could she be…?
    Good god, she was jealous of that hoyden!
    Sara ought to be relieved another witch had taken Brent’s focus away from her. But she wasn’t. She was furious he’d allowed the focus to be altered.
    “She’s in danger,” he declared in all seriousness. “Just like you.”
    She couldn’t stop the disgusted snort that escaped her.
    Brent went on, “She’s been dating one of Ena’s sons. He threatened to kill her if she went to the funeral or the reading. She asked me for haven. I couldn’t refuse her. As priest, it’s my duty to protect those who need it.”
    Yes, it was. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.
    She barely recognized the caustic voice as belonging to her when she snarled, “I had no idea you were so attentive when you protect someone. Did you sleep in Daddy’s bed too?”
    “No,” he snapped in return. Brent’s eyes shot wide without warning. His lips parted as if in surprise and his pose loosened against the door. “I didn’t sleep in Vanessa’s bed.”
    No, she’d slept in his bed.
    “Get out.” Sara’s voice was low, calm, and entirely deadly. She was furious he’d twist the facts around to make himself seem innocent.
    “I paced all night waiting for you to come back,” Brent said rather than heed her demand. His slack pose soon grew rigid. With each new word, his tone tightened until he was shouting. “You deliberately evaded me when you left and then you didn’t pick up your phone calls. Someone could have attacked you!”
    Sara had lost him in the subdivision minutes after she’d left because he’d been driving Vanessa’s hybrid. It was no match for her crossover’s bigger engine. And Sara had learned to drive on these roads. She knew every turn and twist like the lines on her palm.
    She had to admit it hadn’t been terribly bright to ditch Brent considering the attacks during the trip home from