Turning Tides (24 page)

Now, I had to do it again.

“Remember your promise.” I spoke the words against his skin, so quietly I didn’t think he’d hear them. I forgot about shifter ears, though. He tensed, preparing to fight.

It was too late. The fire rose, grinning, and shot through my body, claiming every inch, every cell. It insisted it was as much a part of me as the water ever was.

And at last I knew, with absolute, heartbreaking certainty, that it was right.

I eased the fire back into his body, sending it along the same course the water had charted.

I pressed even closer to Mac. I let his warmth, his smell, the essence of who he was comfort and ground me as I guided the two magics through his body.

I felt strange and certain at the same time, my body both unfamiliar and how it was always meant to be. But there was no fear, only the same clarity I remembered from the last time I accessed both sides.

The fire reached his core and shielded the water, creating a barrier between my magic and Mac’s.

“Now,” I said, and I pulled.

He winced, the only sign of discomfort, as the threads struggled toward me, disengaging from their temporary host. It was going to work. Mac was going to be free.

Then his shifter magic decided to join the party.

I grunted at the unexpected intrusion, and Mac’s eyes flew open. He stared at me, as surprised as I was.

His magic circled the water and fire, stalking it, preventing it from leaving. It almost seemed to growl, a silent insistence that I stay put.

“It’s not me.” The panic rose again, fear threatening to ruin everything. I couldn’t lose my focus, not so close to the end. “Mac, you’re holding me in place.”

“I know.” He gasped. “I’m trying.” His ears grew round and small, the bear making its presence known.

“What can I do?” I tugged on the water again. Nothing happened.

He laughed with no humor. “Be less appealing to the bear.”

I felt it then. It wasn’t rational Mac holding me in place. It wasn’t the man. It was the beast, and it was staking its claim on the magic.

No, not the magic. It was staking a claim on me. The beast desired the connection between us. It craved the dependence our logical brains rejected—and the beast had no intention of giving up.

It didn’t try to hold onto all my power. That would be too much for Mac’s body to permanently handle. The animal just didn’t want to give up the bits it had possessed since it returned from the dead, that tiny amount of magic that meant Mac and I would be connected forever.

I didn’t fully understand the relationship between a shifter’s human and animal sides, but I knew they didn’t exist as separate beings. They were part of the whole, aware of each other at all times, regardless of which body was in charge at the moment.

Perhaps, if I gave the man enough reason to let go, the bear would relinquish its hold.

“The bear doesn’t want me.” A low growl emerged from Mac’s throat in pronounced disagreement. “I’m just a skinny blabbermouth with a weakness for bread products. It can find hundreds just like me.”

The growl rose in volume. I was pretty sure it was the bear equivalent of “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

New strategy, then. “I’m not going anywhere. Magic or no magic, I belong with you, Mac. With all of you.” The growl subsided, somewhat placated, but the beast didn’t release its hold.

I felt its possessive need, the primal desire that had nothing to do with the human wish for independence or a healthy adult relationship. It was the part that was frustrated by our insistence on taking things slow, on dating, on getting to know each other when every irrational part of us had known from the beginning we belonged to each other.

I’d given Mac part of my purest essence, a silent promise to stay with him always, and his bear showed no interest in releasing it.

I saw one final option. When all else fails, tell the truth.

“Mac, I need you to listen, and believe what I’m about to tell you. I need the bear to hear it, as well. I know I said I’d try to beat this whole dual magic thing. I said I’d hold onto my sanity as long as I could. We thought we had years.” My throat tightened, and I blinked several times, trying to keep the tears from building. It didn’t work. My face was still pressed against Mac’s side, and he had to feel the escaped tears sliding down his skin.

“We’re not going to have years. It’s happening now, faster than I know how to fight it. The madness is taking over. It’s using the fire as its tool, and my fire is kind of psychotic. It wants the world to burn, and when it has control, even my water half wants to watch. I’m not okay, and I’m not going to be okay again. If you don’t release my magic, you’ll suffer with me. You’ll be tied forever to a woman with little resemblance to the person I am now. You have to let me go. You have to,” I insisted.

Both the man and the bear were still.

“No.” The word was rough, coated in gravel, and I didn’t know who spoke it.

“We don’t have a choice. It’s bad enough that I have to face this for myself. Don’t make me drag you down with me.”

A shuddering breath escaped Mac, and I felt it then. The barest change, a tiny shift as his bear magic moved. “Take it.”

I didn’t hesitate. I could feel the bear’s resistance, and only the strength of Mac’s will allowed him to overpower the creature for a few moments. I wrenched on the magic, though I knew it would cause him pain. A little pain now was better than a lifetime of regret.

He grunted as the magic flew through him, head and shoulders rising from the mattress as his abdominal muscles clenched. His features contorted and twisted, brow and cheekbones reshaping themselves into the bear’s face, and his mouth opened in a silent roar.

When I finished, Mac collapsed on the mattress. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but it was his human face once again.

The magic settled back in my core, but the relief was short-lived. The bear had only relinquished the fire magic in its entirety. Small drops of my water side remained inside Mac.

Unless we found a way to tranquilize Mac’s inner bear, I doubted I’d be getting them back anytime soon.

“It didn’t work.” My muscles sagged in defeat. Now that I no longer needed to maintain uninterrupted focus, exhaustion claimed my body. My slow tears became a torrent of sobs. I tried to tell him I was sorry, but I couldn’t form the words.

“It wasn’t you, Aidan. You did your part. I guess I don’t know what I want as well as I thought I did.” He stared at me, pain and frustration combined with a tenderness that damn near destroyed me.

It was a look of pure honesty, and I returned it, though tears blurred my vision. As the magic settled into place, I let him see the struggle as I forced the fire to quiet, the cost to my soul each time I was forced to deny half my heritage. I let him see my anger, that I had no defense against a traitorous body that was so determined to send me into darkness. I showed him my sorrow, that the man who should be mine could never truly be.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me even closer. Though there were many things I needed to do, and places I needed to be, I made no effort to leave, and when sleep came for me, I surrendered willingly to the only peace I could find.

Chapter 24

Whether it was exhaustion or
just the comfort of sleeping in Mac’s arms, I slept better than I had since arriving on the island. When I woke, I had a moment of pure peace, the certainty that everything was going to be okay.

The curtains were open, the earlier dreary day replaced by the lavender of twilight, that liminal space that was neither day nor night, bright nor dark. It was the time of day that whispered of quiet change, of secrets and possibilities.

The clouds looked even blacker than they had earlier that day, promising a wet night. I’d always loved summertime rain, and I decided it was a sign of a good night ahead.

I snuggled further into the blankets. They still smelled of Mac, though they no longer held his warmth. Reluctantly, I sat up, letting reality pierce my false sense of calm. It might feel like a perfect evening, but we were a long ways from that being true.

The quiet clatter of dishes and pans reached my ears, but before I could join him in the kitchen, the bedroom door opened. Mac entered, carrying a tray loaded with mugs and buttered toast. He put this on my lap, then sat next to me, careful not to spill the drinks.

“You made me tea.” I sounded a bit stupid, but no one had ever brought me breakfast in bed. The fact that it was nearing nine o’clock at night didn’t detract from the experience.

I took a sip. It was strong enough to put hair on your chest and milky enough to hide that fact, just the way I liked it. The man did pay attention.

“I thought you might need the boost.”

I nibbled on a toast corner, unsure how to start the conversation. “Thanks. I’m okay, though.” I was worried and scared, but okay seemed an acceptable shorthand. “You?”

“Okay.” I wasn’t convinced. He slid his eyes toward me, letting me know he hadn’t believed me, either. “I sent the others a text, so they know we’re both still alive. I wasn’t sure what else to tell them.”

“I guess we can tell them it halfway worked. I got the fire out, at least.”

He was quiet, and I thought he was looking inward, examining his own magic.

“It does feel a bit calmer in there, which can’t be a bad thing. Should I worry about you? Are you unbalanced now?”

I did a quick mental check. The water came easily, happy as could be to find itself in the middle of an ocean. The fire side remained quiet, almost patient. I wasn’t sure I trusted that. “No more than before. How’s the bear doing?”

“Pissed off.” He gave a short laugh with little amusement. “He’s not pleased he had to fight to keep you.”

I took another sip of my tea, blowing on it until steam rose into my face. “Tell the furry bastard we’re going to try again. Your health shouldn’t depend on how close I stand to you.”

“I’m not sure he’s listening to logic. Maybe it’ll be better now, without the fire.” He picked up one of the napkins on the tray and began twisting it into knots. “I need to shift soon, Aidan. The furry bastard wants some payback after last night.”

“The island probably isn’t the best place.”

“Probably not.”

“Can you make it another day or two?”

He grimaced, but he also nodded. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

I considered giving him sexy bedroom eyes, but in truth I felt stretched and brittle, as if a strong breeze could break me. I could still manage a few amorous thoughts—it was hard not to, sitting on a bed with Mac—but I didn’t know that I had the energy to act on them.

“I’m waiting to hear from a few people who can help me with a theory I’m working on. Once they get in touch, I think I can finally confirm who killed Edith and Robin. If all goes well, tonight will find me pointing my finger at someone while saying ‘
J’accuse!
’ in a dramatic fashion.”

He smiled. It wasn’t indulgent, either. He didn’t humor me, as so many did when I opened my mouth. If anything, he looked proud. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

“Don’t jinx me,” I threatened. “It’s not over yet. But if all goes well, we should be on our way back to Tahoe tonight. If you’re ready to go by midnight, I bet we can find a seat on the plane for you.”

“I think I can manage that.” He busied himself removing the tray and placing it on the floor next to the bed. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach once the bed was clear. Maybe I could manage some amorous intentions, after all.

“Tell me how bad it is.”

The butterflies sat down, disappointed.

“You mean…”

He gave one more tug on the napkin, and it split in two. He looked at the pieces of fabric in his hands as if he had no memory of how they got there. Gently, he set them on the bed. “Is there no chance you can find a balance as the fire grows stronger?”

“I’m trying, but I wouldn’t be optimistic,” I said. “I don’t feel like me, Mac. I feel stronger, more focused. Maybe more what a full-blooded elemental feels like, I’d guess. But I’m harsher, and crueler, and I’m pretty sure my fire side couldn’t tell a joke to save her life.” He watched me closely, and I knew he wasn’t just listening to my words. He was absorbing them, believing them, and yet still trying to find a way out of this mess.

I needed him to understand how unlikely that was.

“I’ve talked to Sera about her fire, and mine’s not the same. I think up till now my fire side has been absorbing all the crazy the dual magic’s kicking loose, just because I never learned to control it, but eventually it will affect the water, too. I think. This is all guesswork, and most of it is based on what we know about Trent and Brian. They weren’t exactly the most stable subjects.”

He took my hand, intertwining my slim fingers with his massive ones. “You’re right. There’s a lot we don’t know, and so long as there’s any hope, I’m here.” The words were quiet but filled with absolute certainty. “I’m not giving up on you.”

My throat didn’t just close. It locked up, unable to produce a single sound. I wanted to throw myself against him and bury my face in his chest. Another part held back, the part that insisted he was only being stubborn, and if he remained at my side, it was a recipe for more and greater pain.

Both parts shut up when he released my hand and grabbed my hips. With one easy move, he pulled me on top of him, putting my face even with his. With a low growl, he nipped my jawline. I felt his strength, barely contained. He was fighting for his own control.

“In the meantime,” he murmured, lips sliding down my neck, “you may have noticed that we’re actually alone.”

The thought had occurred to me. I reached up one hand, threading it through his hair, and I tugged until his lips met mine.

Miriam’s phone beeped.

Mac released a long, heartfelt groan. “Why? Why?” he muttered, glaring at the small device.

“I can’t ignore it,” I said, though I couldn’t remember exactly why.

“I know, I know. Clues to the murderer, etc.” Oh, yeah. That was why. I stretched as far as I could to reach the phone, not wanting to lose my place on his lap.

While I fumbled, Mac stared upwards, perhaps hoping a cure for unending frustration was written on the ceiling.

Two messages came through, one after the other. I read them once, twice, then a third time, letting the words slowly sink in. It was the last thing I expected to learn, and with it I finally had the missing puzzle pieces.

Unfortunately, they created two different pictures.

“I have to go,” I said.

“I know.” We shared one long look of regret, then I stood, ready to face a bunch of elementals and at least one murderer.

“This is the last time, though.” I stopped pulling my shoes on to stare at him, uncertain what he meant. “This is the last time we’re going to stop. I don’t care what happens next time. I don’t care if Simon is doing cartwheels next to the bed, or the agents decide they need you to save the world. I don’t care. So go, tell everyone what you know, then meet me on that damn plane. Because I’m telling you right now, Aidan Brook, unless the world ceases to exist, tonight you will be in my bed.”

Somehow, I managed
to leave the boat after Mac’s words, though I spent most of the trip back to the island convinced I’d lost my mind. I mean, no one had died i
n days. Surely the killer could wait a few more hours while Mac and I settled some unfinished business.

Then I remembered the look on his face when he spoke, and the heat in his eyes as he helped me off the houseboat, his fingers tight around my waist. A few more hours would only begin to cover all the things we needed to do to each other.

Instead, I focused on the main obstacle standing between me and a night I planned to remember till my very last shred of sanity ran for the hills. It was time for the last step of my plan.

As soon as I landed, I texted Sera, Grams, and my mother with instructions. Whatever happened next, I was going to make damn sure there were a lot of witnesses.

Then, I started toward the northeast side of the island and Grams’ house. I followed the canals through the trees, drawing to a halt as an otter head poked out of the water. A black housecat trotted alongside.

“What have you been up to today?” I asked. They both shifted back to human form, though Miriam remained in the canal, her defined shoulders rising above the water line. They exchanged a conspiratorial grin. “So, spying then?”

Simon nodded. “The council spent most of the day trying to figure out how to deny our existence again after my little display.”

“Glad to see they’re focused on the important stuff. Did they come up with anything that didn’t involve shipping every last one of you to Australia?”

“Not yet, but they were still at it when I left.”

Simon looked far too pleased with himself. “The trees outside my grandmother’s house are comfortable, then?”

The corners of his lips lifted in a small, close-mouthed smile.

I clapped him on the shoulder. Simon didn’t mind hugs, but he had to be the one to instigate them. “You know, whatever you’ve learned from Carmen, she’ll never be a better ninja than you.”

“No, she won’t,” he agreed.

“Hey, can one of you stay with Mac? Maybe there won’t be any side effects from retrieving the fire, but I don’t want to leave him on his own just yet.”

Without words, they held out one hand each, folded into a fist. They pumped them up and down three times, and Simon’s paper wrapped around Miriam’s rock.

Her face scrunched in protest, and it was a sign of how much I’d grown used to her that I almost felt no desire to ooh and aww. Almost. “Babysitting duty for me. Damn you, Brook.” But her eyes weren’t serious, and she didn’t complain again before reverting to otter form and swimming toward the houseboat.

Simon looked uncertain. “That did not go as planned. I thought we were fighting over who would spend the evening napping on the sofa.”

I started toward Grams’ house. “Trust me,” I told him. “If this goes the way I think it will, you’re not going to want to sleep through it.”

Full night fell
as we walked across the island, but tonight the countless stars were hiding between thick clouds. As Grams’ house came into view, the windows warmly lit, a few fat drops fell on my arms. I smiled,
welcoming the rain’s power. Simon hissed and ran ahead, scrambling up a large tree until he reached a nook on the second floor, one protected from the rain.

I wanted him nearby, as a witness and as support, but it was better he not come inside just yet. The next hour was going to be tense enough without asking the elementals to ignore a bone-deep prejudice they’d held pretty much since the birth of our race.

By the time I arrived, the group was already gathered in the library. Chairs had been brought in from other rooms in the house, and everyone perched on whatever was available.

Nearly everyone whose presence I’d requested was there. Lydia Pond, Deborah Rivers, and Michael Bay, the remaining members of the council who, technically, still held my fate in their hands. Grams, my mother, and Sera. Lana and David claimed the one love seat, sitting close enough for their thighs to brush. I hadn’t invited my aunts, but Georgina, Marie, and Tina still perched on the room’s largest sofa.

When I entered, they all spoke at once, demanding to know why they were there, what I’d learned, why I thought I had the right to give orders to my elders and betters.

I didn’t answer any of them, going straight to my mother instead. “You got it?” She pulled a laptop from her oversized handbag.

I set it on the desk, next to the other computer, and turned it on. As I worked, the room quieted, their curiosity about my actions overpowering their indignation.

Sera worked on Grams’ computer at the same time, connecting it to the internet and downloading the software we needed.

At last, we stepped back, having invited two more people to the meeting. Despite the serious purpose behind the gathering, my heart lightened to see Vivian’s lovely face on the laptop screen. “You really cut this one close, you know.”

“Well, next time have a shorter list of names to research,” she grumbled. “Particularly when half of them are old ones practiced at living off the grid. It took a while.”

I gave a small nod, hoping she didn’t see my relief. She hadn’t been ignoring us. She’d just been thorough. “Thanks for doing this. You sure you don’t mind?”

She waved off my thanks. “I’m safe in Tahoe. The odds of you lot managing to blow me up are slim.”

“You underestimate our powers, Viv,” said Sera, popping up over my shoulder. “The other one’s ready to go.”

I turned to see Carmichael and Johnson filling Gram’s computer screen. The council bristled at the inclusion of the human agents, but this was my meeting, and they were invited, damn it. Only I got to be angry at Carmichael. Everyone else had to deal.

“Can we begin, please?” Deborah asked, sounding deeply bored.

“Almost. Just waiting on one more.”

We didn’t need to wait long. The front door opened, and Josiah Blais entered the library. Self-possessed as always, he nodded at each person and took a seat, choosing a barstool for himself. Somehow, he managed to look elegant even while sitting on a chair that required his legs to dangle.

It was time, and despite my eagerness to get this over with and return to my life, I also felt dread building. One of these people was the murderer, and soon their identity would be known by all. I just couldn’t see that ending well.