Turning Tides (Elements, Book 3) Page 6

  “I’m afraid I can’t leave. My ride off the island has been incapacitated. Perhaps you’d know something about that.” His tone was mild, his eyes amused. That was the problem with this man. The world was a joke to him, until he found something he felt like setting on fire.

  “You can stay on the other side of the island. Away from Sera. Near witnesses. Lots and lots of witnesses.”

  My mother’s eyes darkened, and I knew her maternal instincts were kicking in. Like my father, she’d do anything to protect me. She was even mostly sane in the strategies she employed to do so. If I said my father needed to be far from me, she believed me.

  The council tired of being left out of the discussion. Deborah’s brows drew together as she considered her options. “We were trying to keep the fires to this side of the island, away from other people,” she said. “So, if something else happens, we at least know whether they were physically capable of the crime. It was your idea, if you recall.”

  I shrugged. “That was for Sera. You can accuse Josiah as much as you want. I’m fine with that.”

  “Aidan,” my mother admonished, more for my overt rudeness than the words themselves. Josiah just laughed.

  “I don’t mind,” he said. “If something happens, my daughter will be exonerated, and I can defend myself.” He meant it, I knew. He’d willingly sacrifice his own freedom to keep her safe. He might even sacrifice his own life. If his love didn’t come with so many strings, it might almost be a comfort.

  Almost.

  “Can he stay with you?” I knew I was asking too much of my mother. Yes, they’d had a fling over sixty years ago, but so far as I could tell, my mother had taken a “what happens in Hawaii stays in Hawaii” approach to their time together. I’d never seen a single romantic spark between them, and I was glad of it.

  Plus, I’d already foisted Lana on her. She was becoming the halfway house for people who knew too damn much about my magic.

  My mother only hesitated for a second before agreeing.

  Josiah, of course, was not so easily convinced. “On one condition. You visit every day and update me.”

  I knew my face was pulling into a grimace, but I felt powerless to stop it. The small quirk of Josiah’s mouth, too much like Sera’s for my comfort, told me he saw it and found it downright adorable. He really was a bastard.

  I nodded once, then turned toward the cottage. I made it five steps before a worrying thought hit me. “Josiah,” I called. “No setting someone on fire just to clear Sera’s name, okay?” For most people, this would be a ridiculous precaution. In his case, the precedent had been set.

  He only laughed and walked away, the remaining waters following.

  As I watched him leave, I was certain of one thing. I needed to exonerate Sera fast, before someone else died.

  Because, based on my recent experience with Josiah Blais, it was only a matter of time before another body appeared.

  There was only one thing important enough to distract me from that goal. One reason I’d give up some of the precious hours I needed to clear Sera’s name.

  Despite the morning’s unpleasant turn of events, a smile pulled at my lips. My eyes drifted to the still vacant houseboat.

  Right now, I had an appointment with a bear and a cat.

  Chapter 6

  I hadn’t learned to drive a car until college, but I’d practically been raised on boats and knew how to work all of them, from the smallest rowboat to the largest, P. Diddy-worthy yacht. All I needed was access to some type of watercraft, and I’d find my way to the mainland.

  Luckily for my plans, I was on a crime-free island where everyone left their keys in the ignition.

  Current unsolved murder aside, I was about to increase the island’s crime rate by about one hundred percent. I hadn’t wanted to get my father away only because he made me nervous. I also didn’t want any witnesses when I committed a felony.

  The houseboat was nothing fancy, but it had two small bedrooms with double beds, a decent-sized sitting area and a kitchen about the size of a Post-it note. It was a little larger than Mac’s Airstream trailer, but I wasn’t concerned about its comforts. All that mattered was it could get me to Seattle, which it would.

  Eventually.

  This particular vehicle wasn’t intended for transportation so much as gentle floating. I had several hours before I was supposed to meet them, but the houseboat would never make it on time, not without help.

  No one was on the shore. With my stomach in knots, I started the motor and was grateful to see the previous owners had been kind enough to leave it with a full tank of gas. I waited just long enough to confirm that no one was rushing from the trees to demand I stop, then put the boat in gear. With sluggish, reluctant movements, the houseboat reversed, pulling away from the dock.

  I couldn’t simply point the bow toward Seattle. I needed to head at least half a mile in the opposite direction, putting distance between the boat and the island before looping back around. It wasted precious minutes, but it was better than being spotted and finding a speedboat chasing after me, demanding to know what trouble I was getting up to this time.

  As the miles grew between the boat and the island, tension slid from my shoulders, and I took a moment to play with the water. It responded gleefully, recognizing the ancient power that resided within every elemental. I let the water soothe me, recharge me, strip away the fear and panic of the last two days. There’d be time for that again, I was sure, but for now all I cared about was reaching the city in time to meet Mac and Simon.

  The water sensed my impatience and wrapped itself around the boat’s hull, pushing it along at a pace no speedboat could match.

  The closer I drew to the city, the more my nerves rose to the surface, straining toward what lay ahead. I was eager to see them, certainly, but I also felt a slow-building dread.

  Something inspired Simon and Mac to drop everything and drive north. In the last day, something had changed enough to convince them to make the twelve-hour drive to see me—a decision made before they knew I would remain on the island for several more days.

  The closer I drew to Seattle, the more my vague unease threatened to turn into blind panic. The water could only do so much to soothe me.

  This time of year, full dark didn’t descend until nearly ten o’clock. Even so, the sun worked its way steadily across the sky, growing weaker with each passing hour, and the air was changing. It was no longer a warm caress. Instead, chilled fingers plucked at my skin, calling goosebumps to the surface.

  I still didn’t close the boat’s windows. The open sea and sky were too precious to keep a plate of glass between us. Only two days on the island, and already cabin fever was setting in. This illicit freedom was temporary, so I was going to enjoy every second of it.

  At last, the city rose before me. Though I still looked no older than your average grad student, I’d been born not long after the Second World War, and over the decades I’d watched Seattle grow, one building after another joining the skyline. The sun glinted on metal and glass, gold and silver against a pale blue sky. The city had a beauty all its own, but it wasn’t a beauty that pulled at my soul. The sooner I could escape the concrete and crowds, the better.

  The docks in the downtown were reserved for the ferries, tour companies, and a few enormous cruise ships. I eased the houseboat toward West Seattle, a neighborhood that straddled the line between suburban and urban. My family kept several slips reserved for just this sort of trip.

  I called a cab, and while I waited, I tried reaching Vivian yet again. When she failed to answer, I texted. You’ve had enough alone time. Sera needs your help. I wouldn’t win any points for subtlety, but we’d passed tactful about three phone calls ago. Right now, the one thing we needed was information, and few people on the planet were better at convincing a computer to give up its secrets. Sometimes I thought the NSA might fear Vivian, rather than the other way around.

  She didn’t reply, and the taxi arrived before I
could send a second, more pointed message.

  Six hours after leaving the island, I pulled up to the designated meeting spot in front of the Pike Place Market.

  I wouldn’t have expected Simon to choose this location. The Olympic Forest would have made more sense, or maybe the Cascade Mountains. Simon and Mac weren’t city people any more than I was, and I assumed they felt as ill at ease among the skyscrapers and neon.

  Of course, I forgot what the place was famous for.

  I found Simon on the ground floor, eyes riveted to the fish being chucked between vendors, a noisy show for the benefit of the tourists who still thronged the market.

  “I always wanted to see this,” he said in greeting. He didn’t need to look at me. He knew my scent and my walk well enough to sense the moment I appeared at his side. “It is not as appealing as I expected it to be. I thought they threw fish to the tourists, not to each other. What is the point in just tossing fish back and forth? It is a waste of perfectly good salmon.” His eyes never left the fish sailing through the air, and I wondered if I should get him out of there before he tried to pluck one out of mid-air.

  “It’s good to see you, too.”

  He turned to me. “Did I forget pleasantries again?”

  “A bit. It’s okay. I know you love me.”

  His mouth lifted, just a tiny close-mouthed smile, but on Simon that said as much as most people’s grins. I studied him for a moment, trying to figure out what was different. There were a few freckles on his pale skin, suggesting he’d spent some time in the sun. His black hair was a bit shorter, perhaps cut for summer, but there was something else.

  “Your eyes.” I stared. His eyes were a remarkable shade of green, but I was used to that. I wasn’t used to seeing a perfectly round pupil.

  He tilted his head, a silent acknowledgement. “Carmen taught me how to control them. I did not want to, but she suggested it was nice to have the option to appear more human.”

  I couldn’t argue with that logic, but I still missed the slightly slit pupil, that hint of his feline nature he never hid before. Simon was living with a family of big cats in Tahoe, learning more about what it meant to be a cat shifter. Granted, when he shifted, he became a ten-pound black housecat, rather than a hundred and fifty pound mountain lion, but apparently the basic principles were the same.

  While I wanted Simon to better understand his shifter nature, that didn’t mean I wanted the mountain lions to change him. I pretty much loved Simon exactly as he was.

  As if guessing my thoughts, he blinked, and when he looked at me again, his pupils were elongated and considerably more Simon-esque.

  “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but where’s Mac?” He was a difficult man to miss, as he took up at least twice the space of an average man and towered above most people. Even without his impressive size, I knew my eyes would have gone directly to him if he’d been there. They always did.

  “We need to go to him. Did you bring cash?”

  I nodded slowly. I’d hoped I’d get answers as soon as I found Simon, but he was only raising more questions. “Why?”

  “We need a cab. We weren’t able to find a parking spot, so we’re in an industrial area a couple of miles to the south. I’d rather not walk.” He cast one last, longing look at the soaring salmon, then headed toward First Avenue, leaving me to wonder just how bad traffic had become in downtown Seattle that a single vehicle couldn’t find parking.

  It was a short ride, no more than ten minutes. I spent most of that time trying to pry information out of Simon, but he only offered responses that ranged from non-committal to downright evasive.

  “You will understand in a minute,” he said, peering out the window. “Turn right up here.”

  We were in a new neighborhood south of downtown. I’d visited the area long ago, during summer break. Then, it had been a rundown neighborhood, as so often happens near the shipping centers of major cities, but artists were already discovering the cheap rent and huge loft spaces unavailable in the rest of the city. A decade was more than enough time for gentrification to run its course. Now, it was a mix of posh coffee shops and galleries, once derelict buildings rebuilt as condominiums.

  Still, even real estate-hungry computer money needs more than a decade to completely claim a neighborhood. Simon guided the cab driver to a graffiti-covered brick building with boarded up windows. There was an empty lot attached to it, the pavement pockmarked and worn. The parking lot was surrounded by a chain link fence with a broken padlock hanging from the gate. Considering there were only two vehicles in the lot, I suspected the lock was only recently broken.

  I also saw why they’d had difficulty parking. It was one thing to find an underground parking lot for an SUV. Even Seattle, a notoriously difficult city for parking, would offer some options.

  The Airstream trailer it pulled was another story.

  No one was visible through the car windows. It was a Bronco, much like the one recently demolished, though this one was newer and dark blue. If Mac was here, he was in the trailer. Part of me itched to run toward him. The other part was growing more certain by the minute that something was terribly wrong, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face that reality.

  “Simon, what haven’t you told me?” I kept my eyes on the trailer, willing the Airstream door to open and for Mac to come bounding out, healthy and smiling and claiming he simply couldn’t wait another day to see me.

  “Pay the man.” He opened his door and stepped out, waiting.

  I shoved a twenty at the driver without looking at the meter, then joined Simon. The driver pulled away, leaving us alone in the abandoned parking lot.

  Simon turned to me, and the sadness in his eyes made my stomach turn to lead. “Mac is sick. It is as bad as anything I have ever seen, and it is getting worse. The shifter doctor in Tahoe could not help. You can. You have done it before.”

  “No. God, no. For fuck’s sake, Simon. That was an extreme situation. He was dead, if you recall.” My voice rose with each sentence.

  I hated healing. I hated moving my magic around in another person’s body, controlling the blood and organs by controlling the water that makes up a large portion of the physical body. It felt too intimate, and it was more control than I ever wanted.

  Most elementals can kill with their magic. I’d seen too much proof of that recently. We could burn someone’s insides or turn their hearts to ice. We could calcify bones or drown them in water we pulled from the air.

  I also knew it wasn’t a power we should have. We shouldn’t get to decide who lived or died. When I sent my magic into another person, for that moment I held their life in my hands. It wasn’t a role that fit me.

  I’d made one exception, for Mac. Just once, I’d used my water and fire magic together. It brought him back to me, but it also changed us in ways we still didn’t understand. And, despite what I’d said to Simon, for Mac I’d do it again. I’d do whatever I needed to do to keep him with me. If that meant healing him now, I would do it, and I’d just find a way to live with any consequences.

  I was halfway across the parking lot when the trailer’s aluminum door slammed open and Mac himself filled the doorway. If I’d been dying of thirst in the desert and someone gave me a bottle of water, I don’t think I’d have greeted it with more joy than I did the sight of that man.

  He didn’t look ill. Hell, he didn’t even look mildly uncomfortable. He looked like a freaking god.

  Mac wasn’t just tall, or strong. He was immense. Near him, all other men looked a bit puny and underdeveloped, like they were just a step below him on the evolutionary ladder. He was a bear shifter, and sometimes I was embarrassed I’d needed to be told that. I should have known, just to look at him. He had the strength and size, the broad, tanned face, the dark brown eyes and hair, but it was more than that. He was gentle, until he wasn’t, and he was calm, until provoked. He was as protective as any mother bear, and anyone who threatened those he cared about might find themselves missin
g a spine. Somehow, I’d become one of the people he cared about.

  Not just one of them. We were becoming more than one of many to each other, and though neither of us were in a hurry to put it into words, we both recognized there might be something real between us, something rare and unchanging. Something that could destroy us both and maybe, if we were lucky, put us back together again, better than we’d ever been before.

  I stared at him, a smile spreading across my face, washing away the fear and tension that had gathered under Simon’s dreadful words. I launched myself across the parking lot, crossing the ten feet that separated us in the time between one heartbeat and the next. I didn’t stop when I reached him, either, but I didn’t need to. He already had his arms out, ready to catch me as I landed against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in the warm curve of bare skin where his shoulder met his collar bone.

  “You’re here,” I murmured, lips pressed against his skin.

  A rumble coursed through his chest, a silent laugh. “So, we’re not doing the take-it-slow thing anymore?”

  With one hand, I lightly smacked the back of his head, then simply held on tighter, squeezing for all I was worth. Granted, between my absolute lack of muscle mass and his excess of same, he probably didn’t feel much, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t letting go, and he should know that.

  “If you need a room, I’m sure Simon and I can vanish for a bit,” said a familiar voice.

  It was enough to pull me back to reality and remind me that, abandoned building or not, we were still in public. I should probably hold off trying to climb inside Mac’s skin until we were alone.

  I drew back, looking for the source of the voice. “Miriam?”

  The otter shifter lowered herself out of the trailer somewhat cautiously. In water, few were more graceful than she was, but on land, she was a bit awkward, at least by shifter standards.

  “Hey, Brook. So, I checked on them like you asked.”

  I looked between her, Simon, and Mac. “Bit of an overachiever, aren’t you?”