Halfway Drowned (Halfway Witchy Book 4)

by Terry Maggert

  Shiver didn’t answer, but looked behind him with eyes rounded by fear. “The same thing that is in all of the deep places between here, our own lake, and the big river you call the St. Lawrence.”

  Wulfric stirred, his face twisting as if he tasted something sour. “What’s that, soldier?”

  Shiver stared at him before answering. “Bones.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Prowler

  For my day off, I celebrated by draping myself on Wulfric’s enormous, toasty body and sleeping for five hours. Gus lent his comfortable rumble, purring with delight as he casually made biscuits in the tangle of my hair. At twenty-five pounds, that’s a lot of cat. It’s also a lot of Viking, an excellent reason why being small means I always have enough room, no matter how crowded my bed might be.

  I sensed Wulfric waking up, putting my hand on his chest to push him back down. I wasn’t ready for the world. There’s a moment before the storm where things are quiet, and my life felt like that as I lay next him, wondering idly about what kind of bones waited for us in the dark water.

  “I’m going to make you coffee, but it will be too hot to drink when I bring it to bed.” He kissed me and slid from the covers, stalking across the floor and vanishing downstairs before I could protest. He’s really sneaky like that.

  “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” I reached out to scratch Gus’ magnificent chin. He upped his purr to a quicker pace, eyes closed in glory. Cats are like kings with tails. They really know how to live, and they don’t apologize for it.

  After some minor noise, I heard Wulfric come back upstairs. True to his word, he had my unreasonably large coffee mug in his hand. Without a word, he put it on the nightstand, then slid back under the covers, displacing Gus a quarter of an inch and earning himself a bronze feline stare.

  I started to reach for my mug, but Wulfric tugged lightly at my hand. “I wouldn’t do that. I may have forgotten to put milk in it. It’s far too hot for a delicate flower such as yourself to drink.”

  I rolled over to regard him with narrowed eyes. “You cannot be trusted.”

  “Me?” His eyes rounded with innocence, quite a feat given that everything he did looked vaguely dangerous, except sleeping. Then, he just looked at peace.

  “Let me see if I have this figured out for you. In a fit of gallantry you made me coffee, but tragically forgot to put in any milk, thus assuring one of two outcomes. I can leave this bed, go downstairs, and get milk. We both know I have a better chance of growing a tail”--

  “Well, you are a witch, and spells do go awry.”

  “Hush, cretin.” I put my fingers on his lips, marveling at them. He kissed me, feather light and warm. “The other option is that we find a way to occupy ourselves while my coffee cools to a drinkable temperature. Doubtless, you’ve got this figured out to the minute based on your weird knowledge of forest stuff and boiling things and whatever other ranger tricks you acquired?”

  He leered at me, quite a feat given his face was half submerged in a down pillow. “Fourteen minutes, if I make my mark. I may have accidentally put your coffee in the microwave after it was done brewing. Just to be certain it wasn’t too cool.”

  “Ahh, the soul of caring. And since we’ve been discussing your act of kindness for two minutes”--

  “That means that we have twelve minutes in which to find something to do.” Again, the leer, but it faded into a heated look that was far from playful. His hands reached for me, and I slid across the sheet into his arms. He kissed me, and I kissed him back. There were flutters, like always, as his lips landed in the hollow of my neck. My breath filled his ear as he lifted me like delicate china, our bodies meeting somewhere between want and need. “Unless, of course, you can do without coffee. . . .for a while.”

  It turned out, I could.

  Two hours later, I sipped hot coffee from a new pot, fresh from the shower and a bit smug. I’d stolen a short nap after the languid blur of a morning in bed with Wulfric, my body singing with the joy of our connection. I remembered mumbling to him as he stroked my hair, earning myself a searching look and a firm kiss, even as a small, heated core grew within me, fired by his scent and the thrill of his pulse. Lately, these interludes were the anchor that let me accept the chaos always lapping at our shores, but I shook that thought free and concentrated on the moment at hand. I felt loved. I was loved, and in turn, it made my life seem like I was flying. I had on my favorite t-shirt, the letters that read Mad Scientist curled perfectly from too many tumbles in the dryer. All was right with the world, if only for the morning.

  A low hum filled my senses, and I shook my head, thinking there was water in my ear. It wouldn’t be the first time. At my size, I’m rather enthusiastic in the shower. It’s the only way to get clean, unless I want to spend an hour wandering around in there just so I make sure I’ve been properly buffed by the spray.

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  The knock at my door could only be one person, and I swore I could hear her nails tapping on the outside of a package as she waited for me to get dressed and come downstairs. Tammy Cincotti delivered two things, those being packages and herself to lucky men throughout the greater Adirondacks. Her hunting grounds were as extensive as her makeup collection, and she was a lifelong friend.

  She was also impatient, so I hustled downstairs before Wulfric could answer the door in whatever was covering part of his body. Tammy is practically family, but she’s perfected a lascivious grin that makes most men turn beet red. I pulled the door open to squint into the cutting sunlight, greeted by her perfume and a smile.

  “Hi, kid. Got a”--

  She stopped, pointed at me with a red lacquered nail and waved it in a tight circle to encompass my smug demeanor and general state of dishabille. “What’s going on here?”

  “I took a shower.” I blinked innocently, but the traitorous blush rose unbidden on my cheeks.

  Tammy cocked her hip, which threw her enormous chest out even further. “If I were a cynical woman--which I am not--I’d say that slab of Viking you keep around decided to stay home this morning. Hmph.” She tutted slightly and made a show of looking over my shoulder for Wulfric.

  “He’s in the kitchen. I think.” I looked back and saw nothing except the bronze eyes of Gus, who stared at Tammy with the rudeness only cats can achieve.

  “I was in the kitchen. Now I’m getting dressed, so that I cannot be harassed by this predator. I’ve been watching some courtroom dramas, Cincotti. I know my rights,” Wulfric said from behind me, pulling a shirt over the expanse of his chest like a knight donning armor. He needed it, given the way her sculpted brows rose at his arrival.

  “Tell your heathen that’s a terrible way to learn the law,” she said, lifting her eyes to regard Wulfric with a lopsided smile. Somehow, she made it dirty. “Now, if you’d care to come over to my house, I have an extensive collection of unread books about that very topic. We could go over them together, if Carlie is comfortable with you being in the presence of a learned woman?”

  “Nice try. Where’d you get books about law?” I knew better than to doubt her; I just wanted to know where they came from.

  “I dated a judge for a while,” she said, smiling.

  “I see,” Wulfric chimed in, though he clearly didn’t. After a measured look that took in her plunging neckline and overall naked sexuality, he nodded to himself. “Would you say your power over men is almost complete?”

  “Of course,” she snorted. She was an apex predator, so it wasn’t bragging. “Why?”

  “Yeah, why?” I looked up at him, curious.

  “Because most of the scientific team around the ship is men,” Wulfric schemed.

  “Ahhh.” She handed my package over and made a fuss of adjusting her shirt. “Need to clear out the site around, say, dusk?” Tammy was as devious as she was loyal. She understood exactly what we might need at some po
int.

  “If not tonight, soon. Think you can, um, entice an entire group of them? At once?” I felt dirty just asking her, but the answering grin she gave me was rich with conspiracy.

  She leaned forward, rounding her eyes and giving me a better view of--- well, all of her. “Excuse me, sir? Can one of you help me with some . . . long division?” She asked in a breathy whisper, then laughed with total abandon. “Piece of cake. The day I can’t distract a guy in a short sleeved business shirt is the day I hand in my makeup bag, and we both know that ain’t happening.”

  “Forgive me for doubting you. While you’re leading them, can you convince them to paint our house?” Wulfric asked, containing a laugh. She was magnificent in her wanton joy, and we were fortunate to call her friend.

  “Sure. Pick a color and get outta the way. Okay, I’ve gotta run. Let me know ahead of time, I’ll need to prep and break out my red pumps. See ya, kid.” She gave us her finger guns and tongue click and was gone, a swirl of perfume and laughter in her wake.

  “Every time I see her, I wonder what it would be like to experience her for more than a few moments,” Wulfric said as we closed the door. He was contemplative, as if studying a storm at a distance. I understood.

  “It’s amazing. She’s known me since I was a kid, and I’m not sure what life would be like without her. I like my north stars, like you, and Gran, mom, dad. And then there’s Tammy.”

  “More like a supernova,” he mumbled, with a longing look at the kitchen.

  I followed him, thinking of more coffee and food. “Where’d you learn that word?”

  “Cable television. Apparently, there are people who know a great deal about stars, and then there are people who think that everything else is caused by aliens, which is completely silly.” He began rummaging in the fridge like a bear. Again.

  I took a jar of raspberry jam from him and pulled out the toaster. “Why silly?” He nudged my elbow when I failed to drop six slices into the toaster at once. He wasn’t just hungry, he was efficient.

  “Because the aliens are already here, and they are dangerous.” I looked at him sharply, the mood broken by an intrusion of reality.

  “I know. And whatever it is, we’re going to stop it. We always do.”

  “Just so.” He leaned against the counter, the wood creaking lightly under his weight. “I have things to do today, in my shop. Do you have preparation for what comes next?”

  “I’ll start by opening that package and sorting some herbs. I’ll ask Gran if she’s game for a trip to the woods tonight. If there’s a missing sprite, then we may have to shift from this world for more information.” There were too many missing pieces for me to be comfortable with anyone getting back in that water, let alone Wulfric.

  “A spirit?” He surmised. At my nod, he took me in his arms, kissing me lightly as the toaster clanked to disgorge an armada of slices.

  I plucked one and began buttering it, my hands insulated against the heat from my years at the diner. Sometimes, a little harm can make us better in the long run.

  Handing him a slice, I smiled, but it was forced. “We’ll go the point and see Rene’. Nothing misses his eyes, not around here, and I can ask him if he knows of any hidden pools that might hide another ship. Or some other surprise, for that matter.”

  Wulfric nodded, chewing thoughtfully. When he spoke, there were clouds in his eyes. “I’m not sure I want to know. Some bones are meant to be left alone.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kinda Tall, Kinda Mean

  Officer Domari cornered me just as I was taking a massive swig of my iced coffee, made sweet enough to leave my teeth squeaky. Right up until I saw her athletic figure loping toward me, it had been the kind of morning I would write poetry about, if I ever decided to punish the world with my prose. I had the day off. I was fully caffeinated. I was topped off with a full morning of Wulfric, and the sun was shining bright over the lake.

  Then Domari drew up to me and cocked her head like a hyena considering a wounded zebra. She had an air about her that hovered between mean and aggressive, her blue eyes like chips of glacial ice, cool and unmoving.

  “Yes?” I asked, neutral but inwardly seething. I hadn’t forgotten her tone with Gran when the ship popped out of the water, upending my summer.

  “You’re?” She asked, leaving the question dangling. It was intended to assert her will over me, but it flopped. It was an old cop trick that I’d seen before--in real life, not on some show, and it got under my skin like a worm.

  “Drinking coffee. What are you doing?”

  “Looking for Carlie McEwan, which is you, and trying to avoid wasting time, which makes me angry.” She raised a brow as if to announce some minor victory.

  “Congratulations, detective. What do you want?” I sipped my coffee again, if only to break up the pause. She was quite still despite the bustle of the day. I didn’t like the feel of it.

  If she was angry, she didn’t show it. “Dr. Delacourt thinks you might have some input on our situation.”

  I looked down at the ground for a second, letting my thoughts congeal. There are certain things I can’t tolerate. Fat-free mayo, wet socks, and coy questions from outsiders is a good start of my list, but I reserve the right to expand it as I see fit. Domari was intentionally leading me with clipped questions designed to put me in an inferior position, but she did so missing some critical facts of her own.

  I was a McEwan woman, on my own land, and standing in the sun watching my town flow around me like a stream. I had nothing to fear, least of all a vague officer type who clearly overestimated her ability to intimidate people.

  At the least, she misjudged me. That meant she was uninformed, and it was my duty to help her.

  “You scolded my Gran like a kid, and I won’t forget it. You’re looming over me like that’s going to scare me, but I’ve been this height since eighth grade, so that isn’t going to work. I don’t like your anger, and you can’t look around without sneering at the people who make up my life. Now you want me to help you because you’re scared that you can’t do your job. How’s that so far?” I peered up at her. The sun was bright, and tears winked in the corners of my eyes from the intense golden light.

  “I won’t apologize for doing my job, and you’re lucky I didn’t”--

  “What? Think carefully, officer. You’re so far from shore right now you couldn’t see a lighthouse if it was three miles high.” I tilted my head as the anger began to build, my charms twitching with heat.

  “Did you just threaten me?” Domari’s voice was utterly flat, like a recording of a human that had been rendered neutral. I saw her instinctively turn her feet apart, getting ready for conflict. She was more than an ornamental badge. She was a fighter, but not wholly in control of herself all the time. I guess we did have something in common after all.

  “Here’s the thing about threats. They’re worthless. I would no more threaten you than I would use fake vanilla in a cake. It’s an insult to the real thing, and I don’t have the time.” I stepped forward slightly, now fully in her shadow. She didn’t move an inch. “I’m going to go to the store now. In fact, I’m going to wander over there without a care in the world, because if you follow me without getting to the point, I’ll see to it that your day ends before you can clap your teeth together for another one of your tiresome insults. And just to be clear--that’s not a threat. That’s what will happen in between shopping and lunch.”

  With a visible effort, she unclenched her fists. After looking away in disgust, Domari backed up, but only slightly. “Eli told me you were some local genius who could find the deep water. He didn’t mention that you’re a bitchy little prima donna.”

  I sipped my coffee, idly, looking over the rim of my travel cup. It’s got a picture of Gus on it, and it holds just under a gallon, so it’s one of my favorite things. I considered the lipstick smudge on the l
id, then thought of Mrs. Perlmutter’s missing cats. And bones. I thought of all the bones, scattered in the murk. Internally, I relented. Outside, I was frigid.

  I was angry, too. “I can find deep water for you, even if you can’t. Do you want to tell me why, or will I ask Eli?”

  “I think you know why. This isn’t just about ships. It’s about a story that goes back a millennia. Or more,” she added. She was still on the brink of anger, but talking. Good enough for the moment. I could hate her guts later.

  “Eleven hundred years, maybe. Could be more. If there’s any deep water between here and the ocean, I’ll know about it no later than tomorrow night. I can’t promise you anything else, because I’m not sure you deserve it. As to Eli? I’ll work with him. He’s good people. I don’t know what you are, but it isn’t good.”

  I dumped my cup on the sidewalk before leaving, thinking that getting away from her just then was best. Some of the coffee splashed her shoes, but she didn’t even look down. She was staring behind my ear as I tucked an errant lock away for safekeeping. Her eyes focused on one point, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  She stared at my witchmark. And somehow, she knew what it was.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dead, Not Lonely

  Gran turned off her truck, leaving us in silence as the engine ticked and popped with metallic complaints. “This is as far as we can go. It’s a short walk from here, Eli.”

  He nodded, eyes shining with uncertainty in the dim light of the cab as Gran swung her door open. It had been easy to convince him to come with us, though the prospect of meeting an actual ghost made him grow quieter with each passing moment as Gran wove her way north along the lakeshore.