Witches Just Want to Have Fun

by Amanda M. Lee

  “He would’ve told me that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I … .” I really wasn’t sure. I loved my father, but if he thought May would upend the quiet life we shared, he would’ve had no problem shutting her out.

  “It doesn’t matter now.” May’s eyes drifted toward the window. “I don’t have much time left right now. I can feel it. I have to get the rest of this out.”

  “What?”

  “I made the mistake of not standing by my daughter when she made a life decision,” May said. “I also made the mistake of listening to the orders she gave out of fear. She wanted you to have a normal life, but sometimes being normal isn’t the right way to go.”

  “I don’t understand what that means,” I pressed. “What’s the difference between normal and here?”

  May cackled, the question catching her off guard. “Oh, my dear, you have so much to learn. I’m looking forward to watching you learn it.”

  “That wasn’t really an answer,” I pressed.

  “It wasn’t, but it’s the only thing I have to give you at present,” May said. “I made many mistakes and you’ll have to pay for them. I’m sorry for that. Still, you have time to fix the mistakes I’ve made. I think you’re more than capable of that.”

  “And how will I do that?” I prodded. “How will I fix these so-called mistakes?”

  May’s eyes sparkled as she lost a bit of her luminosity. She was fading. “You’re a witch, dear. We can do anything.”

  I was convinced I’d heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re a witch,” May repeated, her wizened countenance barely visible as she faded to nothing. “Look around. See what you see. Listen. Keep your ear to the ground. Everything will become obvious if you take the time to learn.”

  My frustration bubbled up. “What does that mean?”

  There was no answer. May was gone and I was back to being alone in a lighthouse that didn’t feel as if it belonged to me.

  This was all a dream, right?

  6

  Six

  I woke feeling more tired than when I fell asleep.

  I spent the first hour of wakefulness in bed, debating whether or not what happened the previous evening was real or a result of my overactive imagination. I shoved it off to the imagination side until I arrived in the kitchen and found the dishwasher empty. Then I was back to debating. Of course, I could’ve emptied the dishwasher myself while in some sort of sleep state. Perhaps I had a brain tumor and didn’t realize it. That would explain everything. It was almost comforting to wish for a tumor. Almost.

  The sun barely peeked over the horizon as I carried a mug of coffee to the patio and settled in one of the loungers. It was cool – especially by Moonstone Bay’s standards – and I predicted that I would have to become something of a morning person if I expected to survive the island.

  I had a mountain of work today, yet I was more interested in debating whether or not I’d been dreaming or had a brain tumor. May didn’t say much but what she did say was enough to make me question my sanity. A witch? She said I was a witch. That made absolutely no sense. How could I be a witch? Witches are green with warts and stuff, right? Even May, who was advanced in age, didn’t look anything like a witch.

  Still, even though I wanted to push the idea out of my mind I couldn’t quite let it go. Moonstone Bay was unbelievably odd. The cemetery was only one thing that caused me to question the community. I mean … well … maybe witches hang out in the cemetery after dark every night and that’s what they’re trying to hide.

  It made sense … kind of.

  Okay, it only made sense if you were willing to embrace the fantastical. I’m a big fan of horror and fantasy movies and books, but that didn’t mean I believed either existed in the real world. There was plenty horror of the real variety going around, so much so that no one needed to add supernatural mumbo-jumbo to the mix.

  I mean … come on. It’s ludicrous.

  I believed that, and yet the witch stuff threatened to overtake my brain. I was furious with myself for even considering following it up. Still, I felt the need to talk to someone about what May had told me. I had no idea who that someone should be.

  Could I risk a conversation with Galen? Probably not. He already thought I was loopy and only spent so much time talking with me because he was a sympathetic soul and felt sorry for me.

  I could try talking to Lilac, but she clammed up when it came to the cemetery. Whatever she knew – and I was convinced she knew something – she had no intention of sharing it.

  Who did that leave?

  I could always call my father. The idea left me with a cold sensation in the pit of my stomach. I would call him, ask him about what May said, and then listen to his response. I needed to calm myself before that happened, though. My father wasn’t a fan of emotional manipulation, and if I started screaming, yelling and crying he wouldn’t take it well.

  I was so lost in thought I didn’t realize I was focusing on something in the water until it moved. At first I thought it was a bit of ocean debris – you hear stories about floating garbage on the water all of the time – but then I realized the item in question appeared to be small in some instances and larger in others. How was that even possible?

  I left my coffee on the small table next to the lounger and squinted as I stared at the ocean. The rising sun was so bright it made focusing difficult and the first thing I thought of was Bonnie Wakefield’s body. If another body washed up on shore my second day I’d have no choice but to leave. I couldn’t live in a place where this was a regular occurrence.

  After staring at the blob for an extended period of time I realized it was not only moving, it appeared to have appendages. They weren’t sea creature appendages either, although I almost managed to trick myself into believing I saw a fin at one point. Instead, as the figure took form, I realized I was looking at a woman.

  She climbed out of the water and headed for a spot on the beach, lifting her arm in greeting when she caught me staring. She was pretty, long brown hair trailing down her back, and she appeared to be happy to see me.

  Oh, yeah, she was also naked.

  “What the … ?” I sputtered to myself as I hurried in the woman’s direction. My first thought was that she was in some sort of trouble – perhaps running from a rapist or something – and that explained the lack of clothing. As I closed the distance between us, I realized the woman was smiling and she didn’t appear to be in a hurry to cover herself.

  “I … who are you?” I blurted out the question before I thought better about offering up such a harsh greeting.

  The woman didn’t appear bothered by my tone. “I’m Aurora King. You’re Hadley Hunter, right? I heard you arrived two days ago. I wanted to stop by yesterday and have a sit-down but I got caught up with other stuff. My father is being a real pain in the blowhole, if you know what I mean. I wanted to meet under different circumstances.”

  The only thing I was certain about was that I didn’t know anything. “Aurora King?”

  Aurora’s smile was so wide it almost swallowed her entire face as she used a towel to wipe off the dripping water. “I own the pirate bar on Main Street.”

  I racked my brain. “The Pirate’s Booty?” The name stuck out because the decorations grabbed my attention during my tour the previous day.

  Aurora nodded. “That’s the one. I know the name is a bit schmaltzy, but it really brings in the tourists so I’m not changing it.”

  “No, of course not.” My mouth was unbearably dry as I tried to look anywhere but at Aurora’s nakedness. “I … um … will have to check it out.”

  “You definitely should. We have the best coconut rum on the island.”

  “Great.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  After an interminably long stretch of silence I finally had no choice but to look at Aurora. I was hoping to find her dressed – she’d left a pile of clothing behind on the beach for a reason, after all – but
she remained naked as she regarded me with unveiled interest.

  “What?” My voice was raspy.

  “You’re just not what I expected,” Aurora replied after a moment. “I thought I’d see more of May in you. You have some May in you, don’t get me wrong, but you’re your own person.”

  My temper flared a bit. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Did I say it was a bad thing?”

  “No, but … .” I heaved a sigh as I fought to control my temper. “What are you doing here again?”

  “I like to swim here,” Aurora replied. She seemed amused by my temperamental shifts. “May didn’t have a problem with it. That’s why I wanted to meet you – to see if you have a problem with it.”

  “And if I do?”

  Aurora shrugged. “Then we’ll talk about it.”

  I couldn’t help but notice that she said we would talk about it, not that she would stop doing it. “Uh-huh.” I looked at the pile of clothing at Aurora’s feet. “Is there a reason you feel the need to swim naked?”

  “It’s more freeing. I don’t like the feeling of nylon against my bits.”

  “Does that go for underwear, too?” I have no idea why I asked that question, but I was genuinely curious.

  “I’ll leave that for you to figure out on your own.” Aurora winked, causing my stomach to churn as she leaned over and grabbed a pair of knit shorts. I didn’t miss the fact that she shimmied into them without putting on panties first. “You’re up early. May was that way, too. She was always up before the sun. We used to share a mug of coffee most mornings when I stopped for a visit.”

  I didn’t miss the pointed tone. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Aurora beamed. “That would be delightful! Thank you for asking.”

  I turned on my heel and stalked toward the lighthouse. Aurora took a bit more time, sliding on a pair of flip-flops and tugging a tank top over her head as she trailed in my wake.

  “Are you planning on making any changes?” Aurora didn’t speak again until we were on the patio, and the question caught me off guard.

  “I haven’t given it much thought,” I replied, shuffling toward the door. “Wait right here. I’ll get your coffee.”

  If Aurora was offended about not being allowed inside, she didn’t show it. “No problem.” She threw herself in the lounger next to the one I sat in before noticing her playing in the surf. By the time I returned with her coffee she was stretched out and comfortable. “I’ve always enjoyed this view.”

  Even though I wasn’t sure what to make of Aurora, I couldn’t argue with the sentiment. “I like it, too,” I admitted, gazing at the gently rolling water. “I didn’t think I’d be able to get used to the noise – it’s louder here in some ways and quieter in others – but I really like the sound of the water.”

  “I love the water,” Aurora enthused, sipping her coffee. “If I could find a way to live in the ocean and still afford cool shoes and electronics I would totally do it.”

  “Isn’t that what houseboats are for?”

  Aurora snorted. “You’re funny. May didn’t tell me you were so funny.”

  “That’s because she never met me.” I didn’t mean to get testy – I honestly didn’t – but I was getting sick and tired of people mentioning that May Potter talked about me when she couldn’t be bothered to ever introduce herself. The realization that she didn’t care enough to put herself out, at least in some meaningful way, chafed.

  “I guess that’s fair.” Aurora tossed her damp hair over her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet her. She was a fun lady. When I’m old like her – although she would hate the fact that I’m using the word ‘old’ while talking about her – I want to be just like her.”

  I wasn’t sure what that meant. “Why?”

  “Because she was feisty.”

  It was a simple answer, yet I sensed Aurora wasn’t being entirely truthful. “And because she was a witch, right?”

  Instead of being offended – rather than calling me crazy and tossing around the word “loon” – Aurora nodded as if I’d said the most normal thing in the world. “I always wanted her to teach me spells, but she insisted you had to be born into it.

  “She said, ‘Aurora, girl, you’re fun and you’re pretty, but you’re not witch material,’” she continued. “She was convinced I wasn’t patient enough to learn the craft.”

  I didn’t expect Aurora to accept what I said without argument. I didn’t expect her to expand on it. I thought she would call me crazy and threaten to call the nice men with straitjackets to pick me up. Of course, I’d just found her swimming naked in the ocean so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Yes, well, that explains that.” I feigned knowing what I was talking about. “The whole island is full of witches, right?”

  “I don’t know that I would say Moonstone Bay is full of witches,” Aurora clarified, her eyes fixed on the water rather than me. “I think there’s a nice balance. Still, when I think about everyone here, I’d estimate the witches are on the low end of the population pool. I think shifters are at the top, half-breeds without a real power base would be in the middle and witches would have to be at the bottom.” She used her hands to illustrate what she was saying. “There’s been a real slowdown in witch births over the past three decades or so – no one wants to be barefoot, pregnant and mixing mugwort these days – so that’s only to be expected.”

  “Right.” She was crazy. That was the only reasonable explanation. The woman was batshit crazy. That meant she was capable of anything. I had to be extremely careful when extricating myself from her presence. “So you think witch birth rates are on the decline, huh?”

  “I don’t think it,” Aurora corrected. “The Downtown Development Authority included it in one of the brochures they handed out during the last solstice celebration. It stuck in my head. That’s why I remember it.”

  “And Moonstone Bay is full of shifters, you say?” Shifters. I rolled the word around in my mind. I read a lot, so I was familiar with the term. It was probably best to pretend I believed Aurora rather than to laugh, point and start screaming about restraints. “Do you think wolf or bear shifters are the biggest here?”

  “Wolf shifters are big, but we don’t have any bear shifters to my knowledge.” Aurora was matter-of-fact. “It’s an island. Bears don’t hang around on islands.”

  “They did on Lost.”

  “Good point.” Aurora paused for a beat. “Of course, Lost was a television show and not real. This is the real world. In the real world you don’t find bear shifters on islands. Well, I guess there are koala shifters – they’re really the lesser of the shifters, though – and they want to hang on Australia all the time. That’s technically an island.”

  “Uh-huh.” Oh, dear lord, she really is crazy. She’s talking about koala shifters. I mean … what the fuzzy freak is going on here? “So if wolf shifters are popular, what other kinds of shifters should I expect to find?”

  I worked as hard as I could to keep my expression placid. I didn’t want to tip off Aurora that I thought she was crazy. I didn’t want her to realize I thought her brains had probably spilled out of her ears without her knowledge years before. You should never tell crazy people they’re crazy. They don’t see it that way. They think you’re the crazy one and will attack.

  No, really. I saw that on a television show one time.

  “We have a lot of marine shifters,” Aurora answered, seemingly oblivious to my inner struggle. “There’re a couple of dolphin shifters. Beware of the crab shifters. They’re cads and will try to get in your pants. They say it’s not the same kind of crabs, but it itches all the same. Trust me.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “There’re also some uncategorized shifters, just so you’re aware.”

  I had no idea what that meant. “Um … .”

  “Tom at the supermarket, for example, can shift into any animal he wants,” Aurora continued. “He doesn’t get stuck shifting
into one thing and one thing only. I’m kind of jealous of him for that. But his kind is rare. They’re even rarer than witches these days.”

  “Great.” The notion of running practically overwhelmed me.

  “The most important thing is to never believe any of the sharks are shifters,” Aurora offered, finally turning her eyes back to me and holding my gaze. “There is no such thing as shark shifters on this island. They died out. I’ve known a few people who were convinced that they were dealing with shifters in the water and not real sharks. That’s not the case. Everything here is a real shark, so you shouldn’t try talking to them.”

  I had news for her. If I saw a shark in the water I would crap myself before trying to talk to it. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the tip.”

  “You’re welcome.” Aurora smiled as she stood. “I can put a list of things together for you so you’re not caught unaware. I know this is a lot to absorb all at once – I mean, how often do you move to an island that caters to paranormal entities when they want to go on vacation. But it won’t take you long to figure things out. I can tell you’re smart.”

  “You can?” That was news to me.

  “Oh, definitely.” Aurora enthusiastically nodded. “You’re May’s granddaughter. That naturally means you have to be smart.”

  Right. Naturally.

  7

  Seven

  I wanted to spend the day at the lighthouse sorting through things, moving furniture around and generally doing anything that would make the space feel like a home. My home, to be exact. I was inside for only five minutes when Aurora’s empty coffee mug appeared to move to the dishwasher on its own. I was happy when she left, but now I wished I had company.

  I called out to May, hoping she would appear again, but I was alone.