by L. A. Boruff
“I’d be a lot happier.”
I smile. “Then maybe when it was important, when you had to do something really hard, you wouldn’t have the aptitude to keep going.”
She sighs. “It’s annoying when you’re right.”
It's annoying for me too. It's so much easier when I'm wrong.
I grin down at her. “Yeah, but you love it.”
Her gaze jerks to me, and for some reason I wish I could pull the words back. They seem too close to “I love you,” and that’s a bucket of worms I’m not ready to unleash right now.
“I do,” she says, her words soft.
“Try to manipulate the water again,” I say, looking away from her intense blue eyes.
Instead, I feel my pants unbutton.
Groaning, I push her hand away and pull up my boxers. “We have to focus. We’re running out of time.”
She sighs. “Fine, I just... this isn’t working. And magic seems to put me in the mood like nothing else.”
My dick jerks. Focus, you idiot.
She said her ability to manipulate water isn’t working.
In truth, it isn’t. But no one in the house can help her with this more than I can, and I don't seem to be doing a very good job. The problem is that water control is very important. Water is such a tricky element that learning it may save her life. If she can gain control over it, her uncle will be hard pressed to find anything she can’t control. But wishful thinking isn't going to change any of that.
And Callie is my priority. I'll do anything and everything to make sure she's prepared.
Benny...
No. I can't ask him to help. I can't wrap him up in this, especially as it'll bring a whole new level of danger to the situation. But perhaps he's the answer. He's always had exceptional control over water. We were on the same swim team at school, and I saw him manipulate the pool too many times to count.
But can I do that? Can I ask him? My stomach turns. Every time I see her struggling with water, thoughts of what he can teach her springs to mind. But I always push them away. It's too dangerous, isn't it? I can't risk bringing him into the fold.
Maybe Callie will surprise us all and get it tomorrow. But we're running out of time. She needs to learn this skill so she can be safe. Plus, it'll open her up to so many other abilities. Including being able to breathe underwater. If the King tries to drown her, she'll be able to protect herself, just like she can from fire.
If Benny is her only chance, then don't I owe it to her to at least consider what he can do for us?
It wouldn’t hurt to ask her.
I take a deep breath. This isn't going to be easy, but it really is the only option we have. "Listen, I know one guy that's particularly good at water manipulation. And he's been wanting to meet you."
Confusion crosses her face. She knows none of the witches in the town are able to manipulate water, or we'd have called on them already. "Who?” she asks eagerly once she's realized it's someone new.
I hesitate, this is my last chance to back out. I can lie and tell her a name and then that I can't find them. Of course, there's always a chance Benny will say no if he's decided too much time has passed since he sent me the letter. I should have replied with some kind of maybe.
“My old friend, Benny," I say before I can chicken out, mostly because I don't want to lie to her. "He was unbelievably skilled at water control. I've seen him master in days what it takes most people years to learn.”
"The guy Fran warned against?" She arches an eyebrow at me.
I sigh. Of course, that's what she can remember about him. Though I suppose I haven't been very forthcoming about my past, but that's on me, not her. Saying that, I can't help but notice that she hasn't said no.
"I know. But he's the best I've ever seen with water. And we can't be sure if he wants to help or not." He has a ruthless reputation, but most of the witches around us do. He's also loyal to the British Witch Queen, and she's known to be a fair and benevolent ruler. I wish we had one like her here. Hopefully soon, we will with Callie. "I think it would be safe enough if we went with you and you were careful not to tell him too much."
She considers the idea. "If I meet him, I'd have you guys with me?"
I nod. "But I don't think it's a good idea to take all of us. Maybe just me and Will. He doesn't need to know the extent of your protection or how many people are on your side. All I've told him is that the rumors of an army aren't true."
She cocks her head at me. "Why tell him that?"
"I wasn't sure at first if he might be working for the King. The more I consider it, the less likely it seems. The British Queen is no fan of the King, and Benny was always loyal to her, even as a kid."
She stares at the bowl on the desk with narrowed eyes. I wait for her to respond, but she just squints her eyes more. I furrow my brows at her when I realize she's not breathing. "Water manipulation isn't supposed to be this hard." I laugh at her disgruntled expression, then feel bad when she shoots me a hurt look. "I'm sorry, don't be hurt. You're so cute while you're trying so hard."
She breathes again and relaxes. "I just don't see why it won't move."
I take her hand and try to send calming thoughts her way. "You may not have much water energy in your family. Or maybe your cat influenced you and now you subconsciously hate water." I'm proud of myself for coming up with that explanation. It may even be true.
She bursts out laughing. "I bet that's it. I'm so much like my cat I want to avoid the water." With a sigh, she pokes the bowl of clear liquid. "Why do you not want to work for me?" Returning her gaze to me, Callie smiles. "Okay. Set up a meeting. Let me see if this guy can teach me anything. Maybe I can get a read on him. See if he's sincere."
I don't know about all that. As far as I know, her newfound powers don't include reading people’s souls. Though, for all I know, she can read minds when she learns how. Her powers have been beyond impressive so far, especially considering her father was human.
"You'll need to be careful," I warn. "His reputation says he knows when people are lying. If he asks a question you don't want to answer, be honest but polite. Tell him it's not his business in the kindest way you can."
She laughs again, the sound washing over my nerves. I love to hear her voice tinkling in delight, even though she doesn't have much to be happy about right now. "Thank you for helping me learn but mind your own business."
"Exactly. You're getting it." I take her hand again. "This is a small speed bump in the road. We'll get you a little help, and maybe we'll be able to gain some intel from Benny in the process. He knows more than he's letting on, I'm sure of it."
Chapter Ten
Callie
Sitting in front of my vanity, I brush my hair, lost in thought. This is the first time I'm leaving the house in too long. For some reason, it feels strange to be preparing to go out into a city full of witches who want me dead.
Strange and dangerous.
Especially given where I'm going.
James has been able to set up the meeting with his friend, thankfully in an untraceable way. He's being careful not to give Benny any more information than he has to. It's cute how much he wants to protect me. How much all three of them do. It's times like this I'm certain they'd all be more comfortable if I still had my cat so a dangerous situation can be escaped more easily. A pang of longing passes through me. I miss her more than I thought I would.
Luckily for me, Benedict is eager to teach me how to manipulate water. Which isn’t at all suspicious. Maybe Fran is right about him after all.
I really want this guy to be a good guy, for James’ sake, but there's no way in hell I'm just going to let down my guard and trust him. Having so many people count on me means that I can’t just duck my head and refuse his help, no matter how I feel about him.
Not with how many people want me dead right now.
But I also wasn’t going to let all of this change me. Before all this magic stuff, I tried to give people the benefit of th
e doubt. I remembered what it was like when everyone only saw me as a troublemaking foster kid. I never want to judge people like that.
Not if I can help it.
Except back then I had my cat’s instincts to protect me, and she was a pretty good judge of character. Instinctually, I reach inside myself again and feel for her. The nothingness makes my heart ache.
“I hope you’re out there somewhere safe,” I tell my reflection.
I set the brush down on my vanity and examine my handiwork. I'm nervous about the meeting, so I'm doing what a lot of girls do.
Fixing my hair and makeup. I'm all for girl-power and feminism, but damn if I don't feel more confident when I look nice. A tap at my door distracts me from a few flyaways.
"Ready?" James raises his eyebrows when he sees me. "Wow. Should I be jealous?" He's trying to joke, but I can hear the thread of truth in his words. He is jealous, whether he likes it or not.
He'll get over it. He knows I'm not going to do anything untoward. There's only three men for me.
With a laugh to diffuse any tension which may have built, I stand and walk to my closet door. I throw my robe onto my bed and slip into a pair of snug jeans and a tee. It's nothing fancy and won't give anyone the wrong idea. James doesn't say a word as I dress. Our relationship is still too new for dressing in front of one another to feel completely natural, and he watches my every move as a result. I have to admit, the way he watches me sends a thrill of power through me completely unlike magic. This is something different. Affection for him rushes through me. We're building something special, despite the circumstances. And despite the other people in the house. There's enough of them here to kill any kind of budding relationship.
I grab my favorite hoodie and slip into my shoes. That should convince him he has no reason to be jealous.
"Ready!" I announce loudly.
He clears his throat and blinks rapidly. "Okay, then. Can you glamour yourself?"
I nod and look into the mirror. When we're in the cove, I'll let it go, but until we get there, I need to look like someone else.
In seconds, one of my childhood teachers stares back at me. Mid-thirties, a little chunky, kind smile. "Perfect. Is the spell ready?"
Turning, I see that he’s glamoured himself too. It's odd seeing James as an older man with a balding head and a big nose. His glamoured face nods.
"Come on," he says. Is it me, or does he sound almost nervous?
I want to reach out and reassure him, but if I do, then I worry he'll chicken out, and this whole thing will be called off. Despite my frustrations at the water not wanting to do what it should, I do want to learn how to manipulate it. I need every magic skill I can get for the battle ahead, even if I'm not too sure what that'll entail. I know I'm supposed to stop my uncle from claiming the throne for himself and making the whole town into a living nightmare for witches, and that it'll technically make me Queen in his place, but I don't know what that means. Is it like the British royalty where I'm just a figurehead and other people rule the kingdom? Or is it more than that? And where does the magic come in? I know people have told me bits and pieces of what it all means, but it's difficult to get it all straight in my head, especially when there's also been an overload of magical knowledge there too.
We head downstairs where the rest of my crew waits. The instant I step out of the wards, anyone can scry for me. We can't have that happen, and after James's eventful trip out of the wards when he ran into Benedict, none of us are leaving without a protection spell.
Fran leads this one. "I still say this is a bad idea, but if you insist on going, I'll do the spell myself," she says as I hold out my hands to her in the kitchen. "Remember, this lasts four hours. If you're not back within the protection of these wards when time runs out, they will be able to find you. I'm sure the King has someone searching for you constantly, just for an opportune moment such as this."
“Got it,” I say.
Fran’s dark eyes gentle. “You’re sure about this?”
I nod.
She sighs, clearly still unhappy about the situation. But I know she loved my grandmother, and she's not going to let anything happen to me. She takes my hands in one of hers and uses the other to draw symbols around me. I don't know what each one means. Despite asking to be taught the protection spells, I haven't been able to. Some things appear to take time to study getting right, and it'll be years before I master the symbols these things need, even if I have the raw power.
A soft blue glow comes from me, before fading and disappearing. But I can still feel it like a barrier around me, similar to the one I can feel when I leave the house.
“Be careful,” Fran says as she lets go of my hands and takes a step back. Her expression is soft. She's truly worried about something happening to me. Probably more for the memory of my grandmother over anything else.
“Always.” I promise her. “And thank you.”
She nods, and I see worry in her eyes. “I’m going to head back to the safe house. Well, I’m going to grab some more board games first. The kids are getting antsy.”
I smile. “They’re all lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have them,” she says, and a slight smile turns her lips up, before she turns and heads for the back door.
I look back at my guys. “Ready?”
They nod, having already done protection spells around one another. James made up for what he thought of as his weaker magic by knowing all there is to about this kind of thing. None of them seem very happy about the situation, even if they have protection spells around them.
“Watch your back out there,” Hank says.
I nod. “You keep an eye on everyone here.”
He presses a kiss to my cheek. I flash him my best, “don’t worry about me” look, but his gaze is glued to me as I head for Will.
For a moment, it seems as if the big guy looks like he’s not even going to say goodbye.
“Will?” I say, raising a brow.
“This is stupid and dangerous,” he huffs.
“We’ve gone over this...”
“I should be right beside you, so I can fry the guy to a crisp if he thinks he’s going to try anything.”
I laugh. “Remember, he’s meeting us to help me.”
“He better be,” Will mumbles.
I wrap my arms around him and press myself against his chest. After a second, his arms drop from their angry position in front of him, and he enfolds me in his arms. I breathe in his masculine scent, along with the smoky element that’s always a part of him.
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I know,” he says softly, then leans closer. “Because I’m going to be close enough to destroy him if he tries anything.”
I release him.
His gaze holds mine. “I... you... just take care of yourself.”
I smile. “Yes, sir!”
He glowers, but the anger doesn’t reach his eyes. And for some reason, I don’t even mind Mr. Grumpy, because now I know he only does this when he’s worried about me. And it’s kind of nice to have a guy worry about me like that.
Taking a deep breath, James and I walk out the front door, closing it behind us and standing on the porch. The morning air is crisp, refreshing me in a way normally only coffee does. The street is deserted. Literally, no one. I expected it to be quiet this early, but ever since my asshole uncle started dragging people off, even the humans seemed to be out less.
"It feels so wild to be doing this,” I whisper.
James takes my hand. "Yes, leaving the house is such a rebellious thing," he jokes. "That's sad. We'll fix this, get you to the solstice, and then this will all be a memory we can tell our..." He turns his head instead of finishing the sentence.
Kids. He'd been about to say our kids. I smile as I look at the back of his head.
"Ready?" I ask, letting him off the hook.
None of us are ready to talk about kids, and if our very unconventional relationship would
result in any offspring. I’m not even sure what the best way to define our relationship is. It's too early to talk about the kind of future James is clearly thinking about, but I should expect it from him. He's the most serious of the three of them, though they can all have their moments. Still, it's too soon to be dreaming of marriage, kids, and a white picket fence.
Love though...maybe it isn't too soon for that.
He steps outside the ward, pulling me along with him. We wait a second to make sure lightning won't strike, then cross the street.
"Will showed me this cove not long after I moved here," he says as we cut through a neighbor's backyard to get to the beach. "We'll have complete privacy. That's why I chose this time of day. It's low tide," he explains.
With the early morning chill, I’m thankful for my hoodie as I shove my hands into my pockets and shiver against the chill in the air. For Spring, it’s still pretty dang cold. Not that the clouds above, threatening us with rain, are helping. They add a greyness to the world that I usually like. But today, I’d take a sunny sky over clouds.
A part of me wishes we could’ve gone later in the day, when the sun is beaming down, and our walk to the shore would feel like an amazing break from the stuffy house. But the tide will only stay low long enough for Benedict to teach me this early, so we don’t have the luxury of waiting. Plus, there's less people about, and that always helps. I'm sure most of the people in town have no clue what I look like, but it's better to be safe rather than sorry.
After cutting through part of the woods and a couple more backyards, we arrive at the beach to find a man lazing in a deck chair. He’s blond, with long legs that stretch out in front of him and almost make him look gangly, even from his position in the chair. Despite the fact we’re on the beach, he's wearing a blue suit without a tie. Or socks. I wrinkle my nose. How does he manage that? Doesn't it make his shoes rub?
"Hello again, old friend." Benedict greets before he even turns to look at us.