Turning Tides (10 page)

I didn’t give in. I packed it away, as I had time and time again over the last few months, ignoring the loud voice of protest.

It was getting closer, I knew. Someday, I wouldn’t be able to fight it anymore. Accessing both sides of my magic would create a schism in my own mind, and I’d become a permanent resident of Crazyville. It’s what happened to all dual magics eventually.

If I couldn’t stop it, I’d damn sure make the most of whatever time I had left.

I would start by proving Sera was innocent. She’d saved me, the day she appeared on my porch and forced me to rejoin the world. It was time to return the favor.

“Any theories about what the hell is going on?”

She shook her head and pointed at the walls, a questioning expression. We still didn’t know if there were bugs. It seemed unlikely, but so did most recent events. At some point, unlikely had just become another word for our normal lives.

This, at least, was something I could manage, and this time the damn woman was going to pick up her phone.

Chapter 10

It took nearly forty-five minutes
for Robin’s body to be removed and for our side of the island to be evacuated, leaving me and Sera once again alone in our makeshift prison.

I was surprised the council allowed us to stay, now that Sera was suspected of a second gruesome murder. Perhaps they counted on the fact that, while we could escape and eventually swim to land with the help of my magic, we’d do so in waters well known for their orca population. Though I’d meant it when I told Sera I’d escape with her if it came to that, I was in no rush to discover whether I could control an animal colloquially known as a killer whale.

More than anything, though, we stayed because we didn’t want to spend our lives on the run, hiding from elementals for, literally, thousands of years.

So long as there was any chance I could prove Sera’s innocence in the next day, we’d stay put.

The moment everyone else was out of sight, I decided the makeshift boundary didn’t apply to me. No one told me I had to stay behind them, and without a specific order, I saw no reason not to duck under the string and head toward a small copse of maples several hundred feet from the water and far from any possible listening devices in the cottage.

I waited, listening for any sounds other than the rustle of leaves or the chirps of the local birds, and then I waited even longer, turning in a slow circle. This wasn’t a phone call that needed witnesses.

I tried Vivian’s phone first, and again I was sent to voicemail. I left yet another message, begging her to call us back.

I checked her Facebook page next, and while she was tagged in several recent photos of her and Olivia hiking the Lake Tahoe loop, she hadn’t updated her status in weeks.

I pulled up four different chat programs, but she wasn’t logged into any of them. I pinged her anyway, hoping she was hiding behind an invisible status, but received no response.

I phoned her three more times in quick succession, hitting redial the moment her message clicked on. Nothing. Frustrated, I settled for an irate text written while abusing the caps lock key.

My phone remained silent. While I was glad neither Simon nor Miriam were calling, insisting I get my ass to the houseboat and cure Mac, the phone seemed to be mocking me, its flat black screen a constant reminder that we were no longer one of Vivian’s top priorities.

I didn’t want to return to the cottage without information, and I couldn’t travel out to the houseboat without first dropping off my phone at the cottage, so I sat on a rock and hoped inspiration would smack me upside the head if I waited long enough.

Inspiration wasn’t feeling so violent that day. It chose to buzz instead, the chat program notifying me of an incoming message.

Relief poured through me at the sight of Vivian’s familiar face. “Let me guess,” I answered. “You were kidnapped by aliens. The FBI finally figured out what you were up to and confiscated all your equipment. Your girlfriend spilled soda on all your keyboards so you’d spend time with her.”

She winced, and even I knew enough to shut up at that point. “She’s at the store. I have no more than thirty minutes. What’s going on?”

“Seriously? Olivia knows she’s not your keeper, right?”

Vivian shook her head. Her dreads were shorter than they’d been a month ago, cut to just above shoulder-length, and she was wearing a yellow button-down shirt rather than one of her nerdy tees. They were small changes, but they reminded me she’d moved on.

She’d always had a beautiful complexion, her smooth dark skin a perfect complement to her hazel eyes. Now, it was marred by an inch-long pale scar on her forehead, earned during the car crash that nearly killed her. It reminded me how close she’d come to never moving again. It had to remind her of the same thing whenever she looked in a mirror.

“It’s fine,” she said. “She just wants some time for the two of us to reconnect. Considering what I put her through when we broke up, I can’t blame her.”

“Uh-huh.” My skepticism was evident.

“Also, she pretty much hates you and Sera.”

Call someone a selfish bitch behind their back just once, and they never let you forget it. “She hasn’t gotten to know us yet. We’ll have you over to dinner when we get back.” I’d even serve humble pie, if that’s what it took.

It was Vivian’s turn to look skeptical. “Maybe. You two are an acquired taste.”

“Like fine wine?”

“Or Marmite. What’s so urgent?”

“Haven’t you listened to the messages?”

She said nothing, but in her silence I heard both embarrassment and defiance.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding about needing space, were you? Well, get over it. We need you. Sera’s been accused of murder.”

“Again?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? It’s only the second time. It’s not like she qualifies for a punch card.”

Vivian said nothing. Her lids lowered, hiding her thoughts. I tried to wait her out, but she was quiet for so long I feared Olivia would return before I got to the point of my call. “Vivian?”

When she at last raised her eyes to me, I had no idea what she was thinking. It wasn’t that her expression was shuttered and enigmatic, as Sera’s often was. Rather, I saw so many conflicting emotions I had no idea how to interpret them. Sadness and regret and curiosity intertwined, and I couldn’t even guess what fueled them all.

“Remember why I left?” Vivian asked.

“Something about how we lived in a constant state of chaos and danger?” I kept my voice light, refusing to let her see how bad things truly were.

She released a heavy breath. I had the feeling she wasn’t fooled. “I can’t get dragged in again. I need to try to make it work with Olivia.”

“And she hates us.”

“She doesn’t really. Okay, she kind of does. But it’s more than that. I didn’t leave just for Olivia.”

“I know, but…”

“I left for me, Aidan. The two of you see danger and run toward it, waving your arms to catch its attention. I’m not like that. I have a fraction of your power and a fraction of your lifespan. I don’t plan to spend it dodging people who want to kill me. I wish I could help, but you’re asking too much.”

I heard the pleading note, and I ignored it. “I know things have been bad recently.”

She refused to let me finish. “You really think things are going to settle down? Fine. When they do, come and find me. I’ll even drag Olivia over for dinner. Until then, you have to leave me out of it.”

I turned her words over, looking for any loophole, any room for misinterpretation. There was none, and yet I couldn’t let her go. “Vivian, Sera’s being framed for murder. There are already two bodies, and no evidence pointing to a single other person. Her trial is tomorrow evening, and if she’s convicted, the sentence is death. If that happens, the best she can hope for is to escape and spend her life running and hiding. Any help you can give, we need it, and we need it now.” I kept my voice level, the words straightforward. This wasn’t an emotional plea. It was a statement of fact, one I insisted she hear.

She closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. “What can I do?”

I wanted to sob with gratitude, but decided that could wait until after our thirty minutes expired. “We’re trying to figure out if our house if bugged. Aren’t there, like, radio frequencies you can track or something?”

She nodded, mind already five steps ahead. “If it’s being sent wirelessly, I should be able to detect the signal. Address?”

“We don’t have them on the island. It’s about two hundred feet west of me. If you find any transmissions, we can assume they’re coming from our house. There will be a video feed, from Sera’s surveillance camera, but there shouldn’t be anything else.”

I’d already lost her. While I could still see her face, she was no longer looking at me, intent on whatever window she’d pulled up. I heard the clack of keyboard keys as Vivian did the thing she was born to do. She was a weak earth, as close to human as an elemental could be and still call themselves a member of our race, but that wasn’t her true magic. Her magic was her ability to make any electronic do her bidding.

It only took a minute. “It’s clear. Nothing except the camera. You and Sera are just being paranoid.”

“We’ve had good reason to be. As you pointed out, people are trying to kill us all the time.”

“Yes, but you’re also surrounded by a bunch of old ones who don’t know how to program a VCR. Covert surveillance is rather beyond their skills. Is that all?” The words were abrupt. Perhaps I shouldn’t have reminded her why she was avoiding us.

“One more thing. If I email you a list of names, can you do your magic research thing?”

She was clearly torn. On the one hand, this favor would only keep her tied to me and Sera. On the other hand, it might give her an excuse to hack into a high-level government database. “Fine,” she agreed, resigned. “What am I looking for?”

“We think we might be dealing with another dual magic here, so our first priority is any connection to fires, burnt people or objects, that sort of thing. Other than that, you know. Suspicious stuff.” I nodded solemnly, the very image of a serious investigator.

She didn’t even crack a smile. “If I find anything, I’ll email you. And Aidan, I meant what I said about needing distance from all this. You get my help until Sera’s safe. After that, I’m done.” She hung up before I could respond.

Her dismissal stung. I understood why she wanted out. Based on just the last few months, any reasonable person would run far from us, and Vivian was an earth, grounded and eminently sane. Her reasons were valid. It didn’t matter. I still missed her. I still felt abandoned.

I sent my magic rushing toward the water, needing its comforting touch before the fire decided to stir. Only when I felt calm enough to fake a smile Sera might believe did I stand and head back toward the cottage.

After all, Vivian might think she didn’t need us anymore, but I still had several people who did. I was long overdue to check up on one of them.

The old rowboat
looked like it might sink if someone so much as looked at it funny, but somehow it held long enough to get me to the houseboat.

No one came out to gree
t me. I secured the rowboat, chucked the bag of supplies on the deck, and ducked inside. The reason for the silence was quickly apparent: the boat was empty. Neatly folded blankets lay on the sofa and two empty mugs were still in the sink, but there was no sign of Simon or Miriam.

Only the rear bedroom held any sign of life. I found Mac buried deep under a small blanket fort.

I sat on the edge of the mattress and rested my hand on his shoulder. I felt the heat of his skin through his gray t-shirt, several degrees warmer than he should be. As I waited, his body temperature settled, returning to normal as his magic fed off mine.

There was no slow return to wakefulness. One moment he was sound asleep, his breathing long and steady. The next, his eyes were open and his left hand covered mine, holding it against his shoulder.

We looked at each other, saying nothing, searching for answers the other couldn’t provide. I couldn’t apologize, not when this magical dependence was the side effect of being alive. He couldn’t assure me it was okay when he didn’t believe it.

Instead, I offered him the only hope I could. “I’ll try to sneak my mother out here today. Now that we have some idea what’s going on, she might be able to fix it. You know I’m not giving up until you’re back to normal, right?”

He nodded, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he threw off the weight of the blankets and pulled himself up, leaning against the padded headboard.

The movement made my hand fall off his shoulder, but it gave me the chance to examine him. I meant to look for signs he’d been ill, but I was distracted by the sad discovery that Mac wore modest pajama bottoms rather than boxers. When it came to Mac, my libido never had a particularly good sense of timing. I dragged my eyes upward, but the gleam in his eyes told me my perusal hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Where are Simon and Miriam?” When in doubt, change the subject.

He stretched, long arms reaching forward with the fingers interlaced. My eyes followed the movement, the slow expansion of his biceps. When I at last remembered to look at his face, he was fighting a smile, the bastard.

“They shifted. Miriam is off looking for the local otter population, and Simon said he wanted to do recon. There are housecats on the island, right?”

There were, as well as plenty of otters. They sometimes even drifted along our canals, as much a part of our natural world as the water that surrounded us. So long as my friends remained in their animal forms, no one would guess what they were.

A bear, on the other hand, would stand out a fair bit. It was a good thing Mac stayed behind.

“Wait, they left you?”

“I insisted. I was feeling okay, and they were going stir crazy on the boat.”

“No, you weren’t, you liar.” I pulled back the sheets, still damp with his sweat. “The fever came back.”

“And now it’s gone. It’s barely been twelve hours. I knew I’d be fine.”

“You don’t know anything about this. None of us do.”

He didn’t even have the grace to look chastened. “I don’t need a nurse, Aidan. They couldn’t do anything.”

“They could have called me if you got worse.”

He gestured at the phone on his bedside table. “So could I. You’re on speed dial, so I only needed to push one button. Even I could manage that. If it got bad enough, I would have called.”

I grumbled several unflattering things under my breath, then decided he deserved to hear at least one of them clearly. “You are a big, stubborn, annoying oaf of a man. You know that, right?”

He shrugged, unconcerned.

“So, I’m really on your speed dial?”

That smile spread across his face, the slow and wicked one that made breathing difficult. “Number one.”

I swallowed. I was pretty sure that was the modern version of going steady.

“How are you feeling?” I refused to let him distract me.

His smile vanished. “Are you going to ask me that every time you see me?”

“Well, it’s either that or stare at you creepily in an attempt to read your vitals from afar.”