Dark Tide (A Mated by Magic Novel)

by Stella Marie Alden

  Thank God he had, or they’d be out in the middle of this.

  She soothed the waves long enough to skillfully maneuver the boat into a weighted frame, then cranked a handle, which lifted the craft high out of the ocean.

  Willy encouraged her, barking madly, then nosed them back toward the house as if herding sheep.

  Right about then, Josh was glad he’d opted to rent a sturdy house as opposed to one of the more quaint tropical huts. From the looks of it, this storm was going to be a doozy.

  Once inside, he said, “Listen, I’m sorry I–”

  “Save it.” She moved past him and pulled out a long flat-blade screwdriver from a kitchen drawer, then thrust it into his hand. “There’s shutters outside with white fasteners at each corner. Cover every window. Quickly. I already smell ozone and the air pressure is dropping. It’s going to be bad.”

  “I didn’t hear anything on the weather report.”

  She pursed her lips, obviously holding back some smart-ass retort. “I’ll grab anything that’s not tied down, then help you finish.”

  “You’re going back out there?” He frowned as he pictured her tiny form blowing away.

  Again, she rolled those beautiful green-blue eyes at him. “Unless you’d like to spend the night tied to a tree, I suggest you get to work.”

  He opened his mouth to respond with an equally churlish retort, but she didn’t give him the chance. Bounding out the door, she jumped down the deck stairs, then rolled the grill under the deck. After that, she disappeared around the corner of the building.

  With a heavy sigh, he started by inspecting the sliding glass door over the deck. Willy, deciding he needed guarding, stayed close by.

  The storage area door below the deck creaked open, followed by some cursing and clunking.

  “It’s not me you should be worried about, buddy,” he said to the dog, scratching behind his ear. With the wind picking up, she’d be lucky not to blow away.

  With a heavy sigh, he descended and circled the circumference of the house. Solid plastic shutters hinged forward and swung around the plate glass windows. As promised, built-in latches turned and locked them down. After finishing the deck, he felt a bit more confident, and grabbed a ladder to finish the first floor windows.

  Meanwhile, she unpinned his small load of laundry from a clothesline and dragged in all manner of his gear that he’d left strewn about.

  He didn’t fancy finishing the second floor, which by his reckoning was the third, if you counted the pilings.

  She noticed his gaze and ran over, shouting something in his ear.

  “What?”

  Her mouth moved, but over the accursed wind, he couldn’t make out what she said.

  She pulled him under the deck and shouted. “You can get those by leaning out the bedroom windows. I’ll secure the boat hoist to the dock.”

  In response to his questioning look, she explained further, “The hoist needs more weight. Both have cement moorings. I just need to tie the two together. Then, I’ll tie them both to that palm.”

  She pointed to the largest tree, bent over in the gusts. “We should be able to keep everything from drifting out into the ocean.”

  He vehemently shook his head, no. “I’ll get that. You get the windows.”

  A doubtful look crossed her face, then she made her way to the back door.

  At the ocean’s edge, sand blasted his skin, stinging like hell. Willy didn’t like it much either, and whimpered, but stayed at his side.

  Josh patted his head. “Good boy.”

  Where were the ropes he needed?

  The wind mixed with sand and salt water made it nearly impossible to see.

  Finally, he found a couple long coils of strong nylon in the hoist under the seat of the small boat. Maybe he should’ve left this chore for her, at least she could’ve calmed the waves that grew larger by the minute.

  When hail fell, he cursed, and threw loops over the hoists legs, then wrapped the rope around the decking.

  Making a final knot, he whistled for Willy to follow and started back up the dock.

  A surge crashed over him, he lost his balance, and slipped on the wet decking. Instantly, he was sucked into the ocean’s pull.

  Pain sliced through his right side when he hit something hard under the water. Like a rag doll, his body was tossed beneath the waves.

  He coughed and sputtered when he finally found his way to the surface.

  A strong swimmer, he didn’t panic, until he realized how fast the shore was falling away.

  Undertow.

  Willy barked from the edge of the dock.

  “Maya, get Maya.” He hoped the animal could not only hear, but was smart enough to obey.

  The dog snorted and raced away to the house while Josh tried to ride out the underground river. He could swim parallel to shore once he got further out. However, the rule he’d learned in New Jersey didn’t seem to apply to a tropical island.

  For a short moment, he considered giving up and letting the ocean have at him. With everything he’d been through this past year, it didn’t seem like such a bad option. But, the thought of Maya finding his half-eaten waterlogged body was enough to keep him swimming as he swallowed another gulp of seawater.

  By the time the little witch exited the back of the house, she was but a small dot. She ran to the edge of the dock and searched the ocean for him.

  “Josh?” A tinny voice carried on the wind.

  Holding his breath, he pulled off his jeans, so as not to be weighed down by them. Then, he conjured a fire, and sent up a bright flare of power. It took all of his strength to hold one arm up and keep it lit.

  When she saw him, she laid flat on the deck and put her arms into the ocean. God almighty, like Moses, the fucking sea opened up. On either side of him, a wall of water. Under his feet, fish flopped and tiny critters skittered away.

  Holy fuck. Even being a member of one of the most powerful clans on earth hadn’t prepared him for biblical.

  Getting to his feet, he dashed for the dock, now almost a quarter a mile away. Under his feet, soft sand sucked, making his run seem more like a slow motion replay of a Giants touchdown.

  About a yard away, her eyes widened and her cheeks went bright red.

  Oh yeah, he’d lost his jeans, and when on vacation, he generally preferred commando. With his dick waving in the wind, he slugged over the last few feet to where she lay flat. He put both hands onto the dock’s edge, and lifted up and over.

  Once he was safe, Maya shivered, and collapsed onto her back beside him. Then the water crashed together, resuming its normal state.

  Damn. Her eyes were almost vacant. She’d spent an awful lot of energy, and no healer could arrive for hours.

  “Let’s go.” He held out his hand.

  When she tried to stand, her knees gave out on her. He caught her in his arms, then lifted her against his chest.

  Even with his own limbs like jelly, the contact went straight to his cock.

  With lightning flashing in the dark sky, thunder booming, and sheets of rain pelting his skin, it took the last of his reserves to get them into the house.

  As soon as the door was latched shut, he placed Maya on the bed and fell upon it, next to her.

  Chapter 3

  Silky satin sheets caressed Maya’s face. Damn, she was exhausted. More tired than she’d been for a long, long, time. Heavy eyelids refused to open and cobwebs of a dream lingered. In it, her ex, Chris, had made love to her, full of passion and desire that he’d never shown in real life.

  She inhaled the perfect scent of fire, laced with pine, and maybe, some kind of spice. Man spice. Then her inner vision shifted to lying naked beside a tropical sea, and Chris morphed into the American stranger.

  A male voice spoke to her from far away. “Maya? Are you okay?”

  In her mind she responded, but nothing came out of her mouth. Was that the Yank? She hated him, didn’t she? Right now, she wasn’t sure of anything but the dre
am-man in her mind’s eye, bringing her close to heaven.

  Quite certain her panties were damp under the warm covers, she stirred. Naked breast tips caressed the sheets. That thought alone startled her to consciousness.

  The Yank had undressed her?

  Later, she’d ream him a new asshole. But right now, it felt so good to sleep. Where was that beach?

  A heavy, calloused hand brushed over her cheek. “Maya. You need to wake up and eat something.”

  That was definitely the Yank’s low, deep croon. She snuggled into the warmth of his palm.

  Fire. That’s what he was. Tingling heat coursed through her veins. Her nipples hardened again and her pussy ached for more of his touch. She moaned, imagining those big, broad hands roaming across her naked flesh.

  Her sleep-date returned, kissing and stroking and…

  “Maya,” said the voice, now stern, “Wake up.”

  Damn it. The bloke was ruining her perfect dream. She blinked several times until her eyes focused.

  Josh Fialko sat beside her on the bed, hand on her cheek, his eyes black and heated. She swore the depths of the wide centers held a flicker of flame.

  For the longest time neither moved.

  Then, the tip of his tongue flicked over his lower lip.

  Would he kiss her? So aroused, her magic soaked the humid air and the candle beside the bed hissed.

  At that, he scowled, shot his hand back to his lap, and turned to the wall where shadows danced and flickered.

  The Egyptian cotton blanket slid down to her waist as she sat. That’s when she realized she really was half-naked. Her arms shot across her chest and she dropped back down under the covers, mortified.

  It hadn’t been a dream after all. He’d actually undressed her. She moaned.

  That meant he’d seen her tiny 34B’s. Unlike her mom and sisters, nature had not been kind. The only good thing she could say for her flat chest was that in the heat, a tiny tank top was all she needed.

  “What happened? Where are my clothes?” She allowed a good dose of outrage to replace her raging lust for him.

  The top of his cheeks colored as he cleared his throat, stood, and placed another log on the fire. The flames cast a golden glow on his bare chest.

  Clearly uncomfortable, he refused to look at her as he moved across the room, pulled a t-shirt and shorts out of the dresser, and placed them at the edge of the bed.

  “You’ve been out for hours. How much do you remember?”

  “I, uh…” The vision of his naked exodus from the ocean played out in her head. Her cheeks, already warm, burned to the tips of her ears. A fucking Greek God. That’s what he was. Then, holy hell, she remembered his size. Could this moment get any more awkward?

  Like the wax, dripping down the candle’s edge, and pooling in the base of the holder, she melted.

  “Um. Not much after parting the water,” she lied.

  Footsteps neared the bed. “The storm was real bad. Still is. You were soaked to the bone. Shivering like crazy. I hung your stuff in the bathroom to dry. Sorry. I, uh, I figured you wore a bra.”

  Like that makes it all okay? He probably was waiting for her to say something like, ‘no worries, mate.’ Not going to happen. Especially with her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  No doubt reading her mind, he said gruffly, “Put something on. I’ll get you some food.”

  He stopped at the door, turned back as if an afterthought, and met her stare. “Oh, and thanks for saving me.”

  She frowned as he disappeared around the corner. Ignoring the shorts that would never fit, she pulled the oversized t-shirt over her head and inhaled. It smelled so good she’d probably steal it and take it home. And that just pissed her off even more.

  Willy whined beside the bed, thumping his tail on the floor. He looked up at her with big, worried brown eyes, when lightning flashed.

  She patted his head.

  “It’s okay, buddy. It’s just a storm. It’ll all be over soon.” But even to her, the words didn’t ring true.

  In the mirror over the dresser, a pale face with dark circles under green eyes stared back. A mass of red tangles hung over her shoulders and down her back. She ran her fingers through the knots full of salt and sand and sighed. Obviously, her next order of business had to be a shower.

  At once thankful that she’d convinced her dad to install solar hot water, she moved into the washroom and turned on the faucet. As the warm water washed over her body, she relaxed and tried to recall the hours before the storm.

  It started when her dad said he hadn’t seen or heard from the Yank. Feeling guilty, she’d checked the weather report. With no storms on the radar, she’d headed out to the island. But in mere minutes, the sky had filled in and the freak clouds and the wind had begun. In all her life, she’d never seen the weather change so quickly or so violently, unless…unless influenced by magic. There must’ve been an undercurrent of the paranormal mixed within those storm clouds.

  But something of that magnitude was impossible, even for the strongest of witches.

  Still.

  The wind whipped violently against the boarded up windows. Even inside, the weird energy hung in the humid air like a heartbeat. A pulse. Usually her perception was spot on, but the signature of this magic was muffled. Air. Water. Fire. Earth. It was as if all the elements were mashed together, creating chaos.

  She finished her shower, and wrapped one towel around her hair and another around her body.

  Josh chose that moment to come back into the room and his brows furrowed. “Do you have to do that?”

  “Shower? Yeah, I did.” She narrowed her gaze.

  “No. Be such a tease.” He crossed both arms over his chest and glowered.

  The man was insufferable and that just didn’t deserve a comeback. She shot daggers in what she hoped was an exact imitation of his expression, then stomped back toward the shower where she’d left his t-shirt.

  He stepped in to block her way and pointedly stared at the discarded shorts on the bed, then back at her, as if there was something she should do about them.

  “You can’t be serious. They’re huge.” She reached to pick them up by the waistband and compared them to her small frame to emphasize her point.

  “Well, find something to cover up with.” Walking down the hall, he muttered something about not being a fucking saint.

  What an ass. She donned the t-shirt, washed out her undies and put them on wet. Then, she angrily combed out the snarls in her hair with a ridiculously small tooth comb. A couple of broken plastic teeth later, and with her scalp throbbing, she finished.

  After searching all his drawers, she found a pair of plaid boxers and rolled down the waistband. She still had to tie a knot in the fabric to keep them from falling off.

  Deciding she’d done her best, she grabbed the candle and headed into the kitchen. The normally bright and airy space seemed oppressive with the shutters closed. An LED battery lamp glowed, casting stainless steel appliances in blue.

  He must’ve heated the oven’s burners with his internal energy because he handed her a mug of steaming hot coffee. Then he placed a plate of something brown and unrecognizable on the table in front of her. Her hands still shook uncontrollably as she put the cup to her lips. She managed a sip, and sighed.

  “Thanks.”

  A crack of thunder made her jump, and she nearly spilled the hot liquid into her lap.

  “It doesn’t seem to be settling down.” Like a caged tiger, he paced the small space in front of the shuttered glass, lips pulled down.

  “I think it’s about to.” She shook her head. “It’s odd. Do you feel it?”

  “Feel what?” He stopped near her chair. If his frown got any lower, she’d need to shovel it off the floor.

  She stared right back, not intimidated by his mood. “The storm. It doesn’t feel…natural.”

  “Why do you say that?” He raked his palm over the dark scruff on his chin, eyes narrowing on her.<
br />
  “I don’t know. Something isn’t natural.” She conjured a small ball of water and lifted it to his face, hoping she could make him understand. The swirls, normally like clouds over the earth’s globe, had one mean eye, like the storm of Jupiter.

  “You think it’s magic?” He scoffed, “No magic could produce a storm that big.”

  She shrugged. Why should she give a rat’s ass what he thought? “Whatever.”

  “You should eat.”

  Glancing down at the brown mush, she crinkled her nose. “Thanks, but I’ll stick to coffee.”

  “It’s just refried beans. There’s the perfect amount of starch and protein to help you regain your energy. I had to expend mine to make it for you.” He pursed his lips.

  Had she finally insulted him? Good.

  “My energy is fine.” She took another sip of the bitter brew, then curled her legs underneath her, leaning back on the kitchen chair.

  Josh pulled up another chair and straddled it. “Suit yourself. Could be another day before you can get to a healer. I know I could use one right now.”

  “A healer?”

  He squinted at her as if she’d grown another pair of limbs. “You’re kidding right?”

  “My father mentioned them once or twice, but as far as I know, there aren’t any living near us.”

  “Then what do you do when you’re injured?”

  “We go to a regular doctor, like regular people.”

  “But you’re not regular people. We’re not.” His voice rose as he stood, and she couldn’t understand the anger behind his words. He bellowed, “What do you do at solstice, or when the clans fight?”

  The witch was going ape-shit over nothing.

  “We don’t fight. And why would we need a healer during solstice?”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know, maybe in case you drowned your intended mate.”

  She laughed at that, thinking he was joking until she noticed his intensity. “I don’t know how the magic thing works for you fire witch Yanks, but around here, we don’t go around killing our mates.”

  “That’s good to know,” he muttered. “Still, you should have healers. They can tap into the energy and actually seal up bullet wounds. I wouldn’t even be here if not for one.”