Night Tide

by Kory M. Shrum

“Bingo,” she said, tipping over a tequila bottle to make four quick shots. She slid the shots across the bar and gave the tall guy with glasses waiting for them his bill. Turning back to him, she said, “So what can you tell me?”

  Grayson recounted the night to her, starting with the birthday swim out to the rock and ending at the moment they saw Landon’s body thrashing on the shore.

  “Did you—” the woman began. Grayson thought he knew what she was asking. Did they mate with the sirens? Was that why they were spared?

  Grayson met her eye without looking away. “I don’t think that’s relevant.”

  Reese held up her hands in mock surrender. She picked up a silver container and shook it. Then she poured it into a martini glass and added two olives. The woman with pink streaks in her hair thanked her before moving away from the bar.

  She saw Grayson’s eyes following her. “Can I get you something? I make a mean Shirley Temple or a cherry soda.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Whichever you think is best.”

  She looked at him for a moment before snapping her fingers. He watched her dance behind the bar, pouring grenadine, ginger ale and some juices into a glass. Then she threw in a cherry for good measure.

  She placed the drink on a napkin for him. “A virgin millionaire sour.”

  He sipped and smiled, surprised. “Refreshing.”

  This seemed to please her. “I wasn’t trying to pry or be a pervert. I just wanted to know if they seemed interested in sex or were they just being violent. I thought that might help the investigation, to get a report on their behavior.”

  “They were interested,” Grayson said evasively.

  Reese let it slide. “Do you remember anything else about the night? Some people reported a couple of interesting details.”

  When she didn’t go on, Grayson assumed she didn’t want to lead her witness.

  “There was the storm,” he said, gauging her reaction to see if that was one of them. “It rolled in fast. It was pretty weird.”

  “Which direction did it come from?” she asked, betraying her emotion.

  “From the south, from the ocean.”

  Reese nodded. “Anything else?”

  Grayson gripped the cold drink in his hand and thought. “No,” he said finally. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s okay.” She flashed a bright smile. “You’ve been a big help.”

  He pulled out his wallet, intending to pay for the drink but she waved him off. “It’s on me. Thanks for coming down.”

  “Thanks.” He slipped his wallet back into his pocket.

  The bar door opened, sending a wave of fresh air wafting over Grayson’s face and neck. It was welcome given the building heat in the bar. He turned to see who’d come in.

  Abby appeared in the doorway of the bar. Her hair had been pulled up in a high ponytail making her collarbones look particularly inviting. He suddenly had a desperate urge to kiss them and maybe her throat also.

  She smiled when she saw him.

  “That’s Abby,” he said.

  “Yeah, I called her,” Reese said by means of explanation.

  Abby stepped up to the bar and introduced herself.

  “Thanks for coming. Can I offer you something to drink?”

  Abby who was still smiling at Grayson, pointed at his drink. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

  “One virgin sour coming right up.”

  Abby slid onto the open bar stool beside him. Her knees bumped his and she apologized.

  “Don’t be stupid,” he said, grinning. It felt like one of those goofy grins. He hadn’t expected to see her here. And they were in a bar on the weekend. The absurd adultness of it was throwing him.

  Abby tried to decipher the confused look on his face. “My mom knows I’m here. She told me to cooperate.”

  “Great,” Reese said, placing the drink on a fresh napkin in front of her. “Then please tell me what happened.”

  Abby looked at Grayson as if seeking his approval. Grayson smiled reflexively. In truth, the unexpected eye contact made his stomach drop. “I already told my part. It’s all yours.”

  Abby recounted the night slowly with even more detail than Grayson had been able to recall. When she finished, Abby flicked her eyes to meet Reese’s. “Someone was using magic. A lot of it.”

  Grayson’s heart kicked. He turned toward her, unable to hide his surprise. “How do you know that?”

  Abby looked suddenly shy. That was another shock because the Abby Grayson knew was never shy about anything.

  “I’m apprenticed to the coven,” Abigail said plainly. “I can feel it.”

  Grayson began free-falling. “You’re a witch?”

  Reflexively, both Abby and Grayson cast awkward glances at the patrons nearest them.

  “No need to worry,” Reese told them with a gentle smile. “This is a werewolf bar, kids. Not everyone is a werewolf. In fact, we have a pretty good mix tonight. But bottom line, they don’t give a damn if you’re a witch.”

  Abby seemed not to hear her. Her eyes were fixed on Grayson, desperately trying to read his face. “I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure you’d be okay with it.” Color rose in her cheeks. “Your parents are sort of—purists.”

  “No, they’re not. Tanner’s best friend is a werewolf!” Grayson felt like he’d been kicked in the gut.

  “Who’s a werewolf?” Kristine asked, reappearing with a steaming wet rag.

  “My little brother’s best friend, Will.”

  Kristine smiled. “Oh yeah, I think I’ve met him. He can’t be more than twelve—”

  “Ten,” Grayson interjected.

  “—and he curses like a sailor.”

  Reese crinkled her nose. “Now I’m sorry I didn’t come to your house.”

  Abby’s face tried to convey humor, but he saw her tense shoulders. “Yeah, he’s pretty funny.”

  Don’t screw this up, Grayson’s mind screamed. Some older, wiser part realized this was an incredibly important moment. And the absolute last thing he should do was make Abby’s confession about him.

  He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Abby, I don’t care if you’re a witch. And I don’t think one person in my family would give a damn that you’re a witch either.”

  Abby wouldn’t look at him. She grabbed the cherry by the stem and dragged it along the surface of her drink. It hurt Grayson more to see it. He wanted to reach over and grab her. He’d pull her into his arms and kiss her until she believed him. But Reese and Kristine were both looking at them.

  “So you could feel the magic?” Reese asked, clearly trying to break back into the conversation.

  Abby looked up from her drink “Yeah, and there was a surge of it right before the sirens showed up. I knew something was up, but I was halfway to shore when I felt it so I couldn’t do anything in the water. Then once I did get to shore—” She licked her lips. “Everything happened so fast after that.”

  Grayson could agree with that. It seemed the swim to shore and Landon’s death had happened in the same breath.

  Reese rubbed her knees. “Could you tell where the magic was coming from?”

  “West,” Abby said without hesitation. “Somewhere along Canyon Road. But I can’t more specific than that. Sorry.”

  “But the storm came from the south,” Grayson said.

  “Yeah,” Abby agreed before plucking the cherry from the drink and popping it into her mouth. “But the person who conjured it was in the west. I’m guessing they were parked somewhere along Canyon Road. You should see if anyone saw any cars parked along the road that night.”

  Reese snapped her fingers. “Good idea. It’s like you have a mom for a detective or something.”

  Abby gave a weak, half-hearted grin. “I have my moments.”

  “You’ve been a huge help,” Reese said. “I don’t have any other questions now, but would either of you mind talking to me again if I think of more?”

  They both shook their heads.

 
; “Cool. I need to do some bartender things now. You going to be okay? You can stay and hang out of if you want. Drinks on me.”

  “Thanks.” They said in unison. Once Reese had moved away, turning her attention to two women at the end of the bar, Abby turned on her stool. She pointed her chin at a booth that was opening up along the wall. “Let’s take that.”

  “Okay.” He grabbed his drink off the bar and followed her through the tightly packed crowd. Despite the bodies, no one sprang to take the booth from them before they reached it. Grayson found himself wondering if that was Abby’s doing. Did she magically reserve it somehow? God, everything Abby did would make him wonder now.

  They slid into the booth opposite each other, their drinks between them. Neither of them spoke for several moments.

  “You didn’t tell Landon about the coven?” Grayson asked.

  She shrugged. “No. I think he would’ve been okay with it but...”

  She never finished her thought.

  Grayson sighed, trying to give himself room in the face of all these emotions. He was disappointed that she hadn’t told him sooner, but relieved to know now. He was also honored that he now knew a secret that Landon hadn’t. But this honor was quickly blotted out by a rising tide of guilt.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you really think I’d freak out?” He felt the heat rising in his cheeks.

  “No,” she said with another lopsided smile. “I was looking for the right time to tell you. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you a lot of things, actually.”

  His heart hammered in his chest. He wanted her to know he was here for her. That he was in her corner. He stretched his hand across the table. “Now would be a good time. You can tell me everything you want to tell me. Right now.”

  She placed her cool hand in his. It was slightly moist from her sweating glass. “You sure about that?”

  He noticed the color building in her cheeks and the way her eyes shone. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “I’m sure.”

  For a long moment she just looked at her hand in his. Then she sighed as if she’d been holding her breath for years.

  “I was accepted to CCU. And UCLA for engineering.” She searched his face for a reaction. “Actually I was accepted into about a dozen other schools too, but these are the two that matter.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “You know why,” she said, squeezing his hands. “Grayson, you know why.”

  His heart hammered in his chest.

  “I love you,” she said. Her eyes were wide, fearful. “I’m happiest when I’m with you. I like to know you’re near and you’re safe. I don’t care if we are in LA or if we’re here at CCU, but I want to be with you. And after what happened to Landon—” Her breath hitched and she squeezed his hand even harder. “I don’t want to mess around anymore. I want to spend every moment I have left knowing you’re mine. I just need to know if you feel the same way?”

  Grayson Choice 15

  Yes, Grayson Feels the Same Way

  No, Grayson Met Daniel Has Feelings for Him Instead

  Grayson: Spend the Night Reading

  “I can’t tonight, sorry,” he said. Dragging his introverted self to a bar sounded like an awful idea for many reasons. Not only would it make his parents’ anxiety spike, but he was dead tired. He hadn’t slept worth a damn the night before and he wasn’t entirely sure sleep would come tonight either.

  “No problem,” Reese said, the bar noise rising behind her. “I’ll come by your place tomorrow afternoon if you’ll be home?”

  Grayson didn’t have work tomorrow and didn’t think his family had plans. He’d wanted to go check on Abby but that could be done anytime.

  “I’m thinking four or five,” she added.

  “That’s fine,” he said, switching the phone to the other ear. “I should be home.”

  “Cool. We’ll talk then. Night.”

  Grayson thanked her and ended the call. Then he opened the text message thread he had going with Abby and wrote, you OK?

  The texting bubble appeared and disappeared for a long time. He braced himself.

  No, she texted.

  Then, I miss him.

  Me too, he wrote.

  Do you think we could’ve done anything differently? she asked. He wasn’t a great swimmer. We shouldn’t have made him go out there.

  Grayson called her. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  He knew immediately that she’d been crying. Her voice was thick. He wondered if the throat, like the eyes swelled when one cried. He would have to ask his dad. His dad wasn’t a doctor, but he understood basic anatomy pretty well.

  “And no,” Grayson said firmly. “No we couldn’t have done anything differently.”

  “I feel like we did something wrong,” she said. She sniffed. “I keep feeling like maybe if I wasn’t fucking around with a siren I could’ve gone into the water and saved him.”

  “You couldn’t have,” he insisted.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because female sirens are territorial. If you’d come into the water and tried to...” He searched for a word. “Interrupt they would’ve attacked you.”

  “What?” she sounded genuinely surprised. “I thought they only drowned people accidentally.”

  “They’re not violent except during mating and self-defense. My mom said they’re pretty desperate to conceive so—”

  Abby didn’t seem willing to let go of her guilt yet. “When that storm rolled in we should’ve kept him on the rock. He was already having a hard time. If he’d stayed—”

  “There’s no guarantee that the sirens wouldn’t have come onto the rock with us. And if they’d planned on going into the cove anyway, maybe they would’ve just hopped in after us. Then we would’ve been even farther from shore.”

  A rock orgy or dead in the water. Not great choices, he thought but had the good sense not to say.

  “So he was going to die. No matter what we did,” she whispered.

  “We can’t blame ourselves for this. He should’ve tried to get to the shallows before—”

  “God, Grayson we can’t blame him either,” she huffed into the phone. “He’s dead!”

  “Right. You’re right. There’s no blame. Period.”

  For a long time they said nothing. He listened to her soft breathing through the phone and found comfort in it.

  Then she said, “You said you thought someone caused the storm.”

  He looked at the book in his hand.

  “I didn’t say someone caused the storm. I said that I think there’s a reason they came into the cove even though it’s out of bounds.”

  “My mom thinks they got confused.”

  His heart sped up. “What do you mean?”

  The rustle of fabric, either Abby sitting up or turning over in her covers, rustled in the phone. “Because of the attack on South Beach.”

  “But we were on Hunter’s Beach.” It was Grayson’s turn to sit up, leaning back against the sofa’s throw pillows.

  “Right. But the attack from last week was on South Beach.”

  Grayson visualized the geography of Castle Cove in his mind.

  Castle Cove city was bordered by wild forests in the north and west and oceanfront on the east and south. On the far east was the first of three beaches: North Beach. No sirens, sharks or even jellyfish had ever been seen on that beach so it was considered the most family friendly. That’s also why it was crowded as hell. There was never parking in the east lot. It was also the most desirable because it was the only beach of the three that had a gentle wooden walkway to take beachgoers down to the shore. Both Hunter’s Beach and South Beach just had dunes and a sandy, trodden path from the upper ridge down to the water. It made getting back to one’s car hell after a long day of sun and swimming.

  Hunter’s Beach was the name for the u-shaped strip of beach surrounding the cove. It ended on each side where it met the sharp cliff faces and deep water.

>   Swimming in the cove, Hunter’s Beach, was the second best choice—for those who could stand the trek up and down the sandy ledge. Its waters were considered the calmest, being the most protected from wind from the open sea. And as long as swimmers stayed close to shore, the risk of predators or injury were low.

  The third beach, South Beach, followed Canyon Road out of town toward the interstate. Few people went to South Beach. The strip of sandy shore didn’t even have an official parking lot. People just parked their cars along the side of the road and walked down to the water.

  The waters were rougher here, and sirens came to South Beach all the time, especially after dark. In fact, people went to South Beach hoping to run into the sirens.

  “What happened on South Beach?” he asked. Because if someone was at South Beach after dark, they must’ve known what they were in for.

  “They were new,” she said. “So it’s possible they were fodder.”

  It was a known fact to long-time residents of Castle Cove that one didn’t find this place on a map. It couldn’t be found in an internet search or on a satellite view. Residents only heard about Castle Cove when they received mysterious job offers or acceptances to an interesting university, with full funding. But usually it was someone inside the town who brought new people in.

  But not everyone invited into the town was invited so that they could be a member of this strange little community. Others were invited for dinner.

  Grayson often wondered if he’d only survived until adulthood because his parents had been so useful to the town. Maybe it wasn’t his street smarts at all. Maybe it was pure luck. After all, his mother was the premier folklorist at the university. She protected and cultivated its long, dark—and utterly unique—history.

  His father worked as a head biochemist at EB labs. They’d worked on everything from blood substitutes to studying the metamorphic changes in werewolves and shifters. His father seemed particularly interested in the metabolic differences between those who had been born with the ability to shift and those who’d acquired it through infection.

  The bottom line was their work here was important. It supported Castle Cove’s wellbeing. Grayson—with his love of nature and the water—wasn’t. Would he be on his own now that he was eighteen?