Turning Tides (11 page)

My attempt at a joke fell flat. “Aidan, it’s hard enough being an invalid. It really doesn’t help when you look at me like I’m going to drop dead any minute.”

I fixed my sternest glare on him. “You’re not an invalid. Stop whining and get up.”

My sternest glare remained a source of amusement. “Yes ma’am,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed.

A red duffel bag rested on the floor. He unzipped the top and grabbed a clean t-shirt, a white one this time, then pulled the one he was wearing over his head.

I forgot how to close my mouth.

I’d seen him without a shirt before, but that was a long time ago, before I’d been ready to admit what we could be to each other. Before I’d allowed myself to think too much about how it would feel when that chest pressed against mine, and my arms wrapped around him, pulling him to me until our skin felt like it was becoming one.

It was one hell of a chest. I might be falling for the man underneath the muscles, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate the view.

“Hand me my jeans?”

“Hmm?”

“The jeans. The pants made of denim.”

I chucked them toward him, making a face. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“If you want to even things up, you could take off your top.” The words were teasing. The heated gaze that accompanied them was anything but.

There were few things in the world I wanted more than to take him up on his offer. Unfortunately, one of those things was clearing Sera’s name. With only one day to prove her innocence, that had to take priority over naked fun time.

Even so, I was really starting to regret our earlier plan to take things slow.

He saw the decision in my eyes. “I know. Still not the right time.” I listened for frustration or resentment, but the words were a simple statement of fact.

He stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him for privacy while he changed into the jeans.

“What, I don’t get to see if you’re a briefs or boxers man?” I asked through the thin door.

A low rumble reached me, the sound of his laughter. “Today, I’m neither.”

The door opened again, presenting me with the disappointing view of a fully dressed Mac. “Commando?” I did my best not to think about what was underneath the jeans. My best wasn’t very good.

“Simon packed a bag for me when we left the trailer behind. I guess Simon doesn’t view underwear as a necessity.”

I found Simon’s point of view quite compelling at that moment.

“So, what’s the plan?”

I tore my eyes from the front of his jeans. Truly, a decade of celibacy had turned me into an outright pervert. I decided the plan was to prove Sera innocent, then lock the Airstream door and refuse to open it for at least a month. We could deal with healing our weird connection once we actually wanted to be more than a hundred feet away from each other for any length of time.

Unfortunately, step one of that plan was something of a doozy.

“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. Vivian has the list of everyone on the island, and she’s looking into it, but I don’t know if she’ll be fast enough. There was another body this morning. Someone I knew.”

He didn’t hesitate, just stepped to me and wrapped me in his arms. If I let myself go, stopped trying to hold myself up while the world fell apart around me, I knew he’d catch me.

Whatever else was between us, whatever tension and strain our magical bond might bring to our relationship, I wasn’t alone. It was the one thing I knew.

“Are you okay?” His chin brushed my temple, the stubble rough against my skin. I felt the words more than heard them.

“Yes.” I pulled back to meet his skeptical expression. “Okay, not really. Not even a little. But I can’t fall apart, not yet.”

He nodded, his face thoughtful. I wanted to stay, to discuss everything that was happening, everything that was changing, but it wasn’t the time. Not yet.

Some day, it would be our time. I’d just keep telling myself that until it was true.

Chapter 11

As I approached my mother’s
house, my mind remained fixed on a houseboat drifting miles to the west—at least until I noticed who was standing on her porch. Lana Pond was happily chatting to two others, her hands moving gracefully through the air to emphasize her point. I couldn’t see the faces of her companions. One was tall and blond, like most of the island. The other had dark hair and a compact build. Josiah was talking to the woman who could unknowingly doom me.

I picked up speed until I was damn near running. I’d managed to fob Josiah off on my mother, somehow forgetting I should be doing everything in my power to keep him and Lana from speaking. She had information that could end my life. He had a bad habit of killing people who threatened me. It was a rather large oversight on my part.

“And that’s how you build a wind chime from coconut husks.” Lana triumphantly finished her story, and I made no attempt to disguise my relief at finding them discussing something so innocuous. I also felt no small amount of happiness that I’d missed that particular tale. “Aidan! I was going to visit you today, but everyone told me if I did, your roommate would kill me. I didn’t believe them, of course. Well, not entirely. But still, I must say I’m glad you’ve come for a visit instead. You know my aunt, right?”

I turned to the other water on the porch and, using reserves of control I didn’t know I possessed, managed not to drop several loud and heartfelt f-bombs. “We weren’t ever properly introduced.” I tried not to squeak the words.

Lydia Pond inclined her head, offering me a gracious smile.

I’d assumed Lana and Lydia Pond knew each other. They shared the old surname, which indicated a relation, but not necessarily a close one. There were plenty of Brooks I’d never met, so I’d rather hoped the woman who could out me as a dual magic and the woman who could order my death were sixth cousins, twice removed.

“Lydia takes such wonderful care of my family. My mother and grandmother are a bit flighty, you know. My family would fall apart without her help.”

Her aunt waved off her niece’s gushing praise. I forced a frozen smile, afraid to believe there were waters flightier than Lana.

Josiah turned to me, looking bemused. “Aidan,” he said in greeting. “I’ve just been speaking to this… lovely young woman.”

Lana missed Josiah’s doubtful tone. “It’s been wonderful. I’ve never met a fire before. You should have introduced me to Sera, you know, with us living so close to one another.”

I offered some sort of non-committal grunt. “Lana, Lydia, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak to my—” I caught myself in horror, and Josiah’s lifted eyebrows told me the slip hadn’t gone unnoticed. “To Josiah for a bit. I have some questions about fire elementals that might help clear Sera.”

Lana nodded happily, her head bobbing on her thin neck giving her the distinct appearance of an exotic bird. “I’ll go make some tea. Come in when you’re ready.” She wandered inside, humming to herself.

Lydia remained. “Do you really believe your friend is innocent?” She sounded more curious than skeptical.

“I’m certain she is.”

“Despite there being no one else on the island with both access and motive?”

I wasn’t about to mention the dual magic possibility to a member of the council. Best to keep that particular elephant far, far from the room. “I’m looking into other options.”

“Hmm. I wish you luck, Aidan Brook. I don’t quite understand what is happening on this island, so I would be grateful to anyone who could make sense of it all.” She glanced through the open door and eased backwards down the stairs. Her movements were furtive, a woman who didn’t wish to be caught. “Er, can you tell Lana I had to be… somewhere?” She offered a weak smile. I suspected it was the same one on my face when I was trying to disengage from a conversation with Lana.

“Of course.”

She hurried away before I finished responding, bound for my Grams’ house, where she and the rest of the council were staying.

“Walk with me?” I asked once I was alone with Josiah.

“Absolutely.”

We strolled to the shore behind my mother’s house. Anyone peering out a window would see us, but there was no risk of the conversation being overheard. I perched on a picnic table, my feet on the bench. Josiah paced along the water’s edge, staring out to sea.

I studied him, this man I didn’t trust even a little. And yet, this time we were on the same side. We might have different ways to go about it, but we wanted the same thing: Sera safe.

I just couldn’t believe his presence would make anything easier.

“I assume you have a reason for sticking around. Do you have an evil plan you’d like to share?”

He smiled, amused as ever at my attempts to insult him. “Why are you surprised I’m here? You know I’d do anything to protect my daughter.”

I wondered if he ever said anything that didn’t have at least two layers of meaning. “Seriously, though. I assume you’ve figured out by now there’s another fire on the island. Unless you torched Edith Lake and Robin for some mysterious reasons?”

“The fact that she was about to announce some unprecedented punishment on my oldest daughter is hardly a mysterious reason. I suspect she deserved to burn, so I won’t waste both our time feigning shock or horror. However, I was not the one who did it, nor did I kill the other one.”

“So, if it wasn’t you, it was someone else, and they’re still on the island. No one’s left since the murders.”

He waited, the picture of saintly patience. He wasn’t going to make this easy for me.

“Obviously, I can’t go around, testing for other fires, but you can. I thought you might already have done so.”

“Are you asking for my help, Aidan?” His expression was mild, as if he inquired about the weather, but only a fool would have missed the sharp eyes. “The last time we spoke, I was under the impression you never wished to have anything to do with me.”

That impression might have been due to the shotgun blast I’d sent into his shoulder. That encounter was rather difficult to spin.

Still, I tried. “This isn’t about me. This is Sera, and you’d have done this whether I asked you to or not.”

He inclined his head, acknowledging my point. “You are overlooking one key detail. This may not be entirely about Serafina.”

I offered him a blank look, and he groaned, as disappointed as any father with an especially thick child. “So far, two women have died. One before announcing your mysterious sentence, the other a woman you spoke to earlier, who I believe was visiting your cottage with information. You may not be accused of these murders, but you are every bit as involved as my daughter. So I repeat: are you asking for my help, Aidan?”

My face contorted into a grimace. Josiah spoke the truth. I’d known it since Edith burned, and the only reason I’d been able to overlook my own possible role in these events was that Sera needed my immediate help. I figured I could worry about what it all had to do with me much later, when Sera was cleared and we were lounging on a deck somewhere, preferably while holding very large margaritas.

Josiah studied his fingernails and picked at a few imaginary specks of lint on his suit. He would wait all afternoon, if that’s what it took.

“Fine.” The word was bitten out, a reluctant concession. “I need your help.”

His entire posture changed, his body filling with energy. “Splendid! I will do as you suggest, though you know we can only identify another fire user when they access the magic. Though life would be easier if we were dealing with a complete idiot, I fear that is not the case, and the true killer is unlikely to burn anyone else if he spots me nearby.”

“Can’t you be unobtrusive? You must have some spy skills.”

He stared at me in wonder. “Aidan, what reason would I ever have to hide? No, I fear searching for another fire must be a backup plan.” Josiah withdrew his phone and dialed a number from memory. “Ms. Strait? Josiah Blais. I would like a word with you and the rest of the council. I require a better understanding of the evidence you possess and the proof you require before my daughter will be cleared. Meet me at the court in fifteen minutes.” His tone allowed for no disagreement. The council was powerful, but with the possible exception of Deborah Rivers, none were half as old as he was. Though I couldn’t make out the words from the other side of the conversation, the obsequious tone was impossible to mistake.

Josiah punched the end button with a flourish. “Excellent. Two birds with one stone, then.”

I had no idea what he meant. “What, David?”

“Who? Oh, the strange girl’s plaything? No, no. Just a turn of phrase, though I assume you’re looking into him, as well?” I nodded my confirmation. “I simply meant we can accomplish several things at once. I will establish what the council requires to prove Serafina’s innocence, and you have one hour to search their rooms. Perhaps one of them is our killer.”

He wandered off, whistling, and I headed toward Grams’ home to add “shameless snoop” to my ever-growing list of dubious skills.

Though Grams’ house
wasn’t quite the monstrosity my great-grandmother’s was, that was due more to its sedate architecture than its size, as it still possessed eigh
t bedrooms, a study, a library, and even its own billiards room no one ever used. It deserved to be called a mansion, though no one ever did. They thought that sounded gauche.

Whatever it was called, it was only two houses east of my mother’s house, so I made it in plenty of time to see the entire council, including Grams, head toward the beach and the meeting spot Josiah assigned. The moment they were out of sight, I strolled to the front door, making no effort to hide myself. I was just a dutiful granddaughter paying a visit to a beloved relative.

The front door was unlocked, of course. I stopped only long enough to set an alarm on my phone, giving myself plenty of time to get out of the house before anyone returned, then headed for the stairs and the guest rooms on the second floor.

Grams kept a spotless house, and her guests seemed to have absorbed that trait while visiting. Each room was in perfect order. The beds were made, the towels hung, the desks clear. Sadly, there were no neon arrows that read “Clue!” and pointed to suspicious objects. I was going to have to do some actual investigating.

I started in the green guest room, where the suits hanging in the closet told me this room belonged to the council’s sole male member. I looked under the bed, rifled through his pockets, and opened every desk drawer, but the room was pristine, not even an old grocery receipt to be found.

I repeated my search in the blue and ivory guest rooms and had as much luck as I had in the first one. The rooms were so impersonal as to be interchangeable. I knew they belonged to the female members of the council but couldn’t have told you which. One woman kept what seemed like a vat of body lotion in the bathroom, while the other had a preference for baby powder, but otherwise the toiletries were almost identical. The shampoo was the same brand and the makeup was all in the same general color palette.

When I entered the gray room, it took me a moment to understand why it was different from the others. It was as tidy as the first three, with one key difference. The closet was empty, a suitcase filled with clothes rested on the bed.

My first thought was that a council member was preparing to flee, but the luggage tag corrected me. This room had briefly housed Edith Lake.

I stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed, and inhaled deeply. The room still smelled of her perfume, a soft jasmine blend. I pictured Edith, her height and delicate coloring, but it wasn’t enough. I might as well have been visualizing any water.

I dove deeper, seeking the essence of the dead woman. Her deliberate gaze and the movements that were both precise and graceful. Her intensity, so rare for our kind. She wasn’t a welcoming woman, the sort that easily inspired positive emotions. She was cool, an arctic sea rather than a tropical ocean.

Till now, all my focus had been on proving Sera’s innocence, rather than finding possible reasons people would murder this woman. Perhaps this was never been about me or Sera. Maybe our presence just made it more convenient.

I needed to understand Edith to discover why someone might wish her dead.

The bathroom still contained all her toiletries, spread out on the counter. Expensive cosmetics with exotic names. Makeup brushes so soft I wanted to cuddle them. All signs pointed to a woman who valued luxury and beauty. Or possibly just a woman who spent lots of time in France.

In the bedroom, I ran my fingers along the woman’s clothes, neatly folded in the suitcase. She favored the same colors most waters did, the greens and blues and grays of the sea, and she had the same preference for natural fibers, though most of hers were silk.

Once, these clothes draped her body, carried her scent, had been an expression of her taste and personality. Now, they were just empty pieces of fabric with no purpose. That’s what death did. It made things meaningless.

I was so lost in my own thoughts I forgot where I was, at least until I heard footsteps padding down the carpeted hall.

Panic rose in my chest, and the fire along with it. No one should be here. I’d counted the council members as they left, and everyone was accounted for, even Grams. I’d been distracted, but not so much I’d have missed the front door opening and the sound of Italian shoes on the marble floor of the foyer.

I scanned the room. The closet offered a hiding place, as did the heavy curtains. I’d be trapped in either spot, but they were the only options. Choosing quickly, I stepped behind the charcoal drapes and desperately tried to think of plausible explanations for my presence.

The steps grew closer, but there was something off about them. They were quick, light, and close together, more the steps of a small child than a full adult.

The footsteps paused in the doorway. I stopped breathing, all my attention straining toward the sudden silence. The wait felt eternal, one long moment following another. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my body to find previously unknown reserves of patience, and I reached for my magic, anything that would help sustain me.