Water Witch (4 page)

“You.” I said again, with less surprise and more anger, and narrowed my eyes at him. It was difficult to pull off an aggressive stance while floating in the water, so I tried for the angriest face I could. He cocked his head and his brows pinched together, his mouth turning down in a small frown. If my anger made him sad I didn’t care.

I wasn’t sure what to do at that point. Should I approach him? Even as pissed as I was, that seemed a terrifying prospect. I opted to stay swimming. “Who are you?”

His frown evened out, not quite a smile, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Answer me!” I demanded with more authority than I felt.

Still he said nothing, just shook his head in a tiny movement. Then he stood, smooth and graceful. He wore a pair of dark, skin-tight swim leggings and no shirt, his skin just as pale and perfect as it had been in my visions. He glanced at me with a tiny sad smile, and dove off the other side of the boulder. I watched for more than five minutes, but he never surfaced.

I had intended to sit on the boulder myself, stare out into the bay, maybe try to have another vision or to decipher the ones I’d already had. Instead, I turned back to the shore, and swam as fast as I could to reach it.

CHAPTER FOUR

I paced along the shore, still watching the surface of the water for the Fae. I could hold my breath underwater for over twenty minutes, easily, though I didn’t usually time myself. Most likely the Fae could stay under for longer. And who knew what kind of swimming skills he had?
Fuck, he might be anywhere.

The sound of dishes clanging in the kitchen drifted over the lawn.
Mom and Noni making dinner
. Not that I was hungry, the gnocchi I’d had earlier sat like a lead weight in my stomach. I scanned the bay again, but saw nothing unusual, so I crossed the lawn to the house.

In my old bedroom, I changed into dry clothes and thought about the Fae. He scared me, even more in person than he had in my visions. He also pissed me off, watching me like a cat watches a mouse, sitting on my favorite boulder as if he had every right. And the way his eyes had turned all sad when I’d shouted at him--what did he expect, that I’d say, “Nice to finally meet you?”

Familiar.
All his actions, all his expressions, it seemed he thought he belonged in my life, as if he knew me. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d been upset to see him dive away, and disappointed he hadn’t spoken to me. I needed answers about my vision, but I also was insanely curious about him. How long had he been watching me? What did his voice sound like? What was his name?

In the kitchen, my mom sipped a glass of wine, leaning one elbow on the counter. Noni scrunched her nose as she tried to decipher a passage from my grandfather’s journal.

“What did you find?”

Her gaze remained on the journal. “Nothing. He was terrible about recording his visions, just wrote short paragraphs about what he knew they meant.”

I tried not to look at my mom, but I felt her eyes on me. I flicked my gaze to her and met the raised eyebrow “told-you-so” look I’d expected.

“I know, Mom, I should work on my interpretation. Got it.” I went to the fridge, annoyed, and found a beer in the back. Probably left over from my last visit. I shook my head as I opened it, and sat next to Noni, peering over her shoulder at the book.

“You have a lot of power, Vinny,” Noni muttered, not looking up. “It is wasted if you can’t understand it.”

“Okay.” My cheeks flushed with shame and I took a long swallow from the bottle to cover it. “I’ll work on it.” They were right, though. I’d been ignoring my training for too long. I completed the basics in high school, did just enough to pass the tests at my coven induction ceremony, and then quit trying. In college I focused on partying, and then I moved away with Scott.

Looking down at my grandfather’s handwriting I felt even worse. He’d be disappointed in me if he knew I’d failed to hone my skill. I’d told everyone I was living as a solitary out west, but the truth was lately I hadn’t been practicing at all. The Sabbats I usually honored with a weak ceremony, but the last two full moons had passed with barely an acknowledgment. I tore my eyes from the journal, too guilty to think of anything beyond my own regret.

The sight of my mother’s kitchen made me feel worse. Jars of herbs, tinctures, and oils lined every shelf. Boxes which I knew were filled with Mom’s charm-crafting supplies were stacked among them. The coven calendar was taped to the side of the fridge, and books of all kinds were open on the big kitchen table.

I gritted my teeth with resolve.
Time to be a better witch.
“I saw the Fae during my swim.” They looked to me, waiting for more. “Sitting on the big rock.”

My mom put her wine down and stalked to the window, studying the bay. “What did he say?”

“Nothing. He just watched me, then when I asked him to explain himself, he dove off and never came back up.”

Noni studied me closely, and I turned away to avoid her knowing stare. I got my healing skill from her, but while mine was slight, hers was strong. And a big part of any healing skill was empathy. She might know more about my feelings for the Fae than I did.

“He’s gone, Mom. I watched for him a while. He could be anywhere.”

She lowered her brows but kept her eyes on the waterfront. “I don’t like that he came so close with you right there, and us home.”

“I don’t think he’s afraid of us.”

Noni was still staring at me, I knew it. I walked to the recycle bin to dump my bottle, avoiding her, hoping she wouldn’t ask me any difficult questions.

“Vincenzo…what did you think about when he jumped off the rock?”

Questions like that. I closed my eyes and sighed. “I…”
I thought about his gorgeous back muscles, how long his legs were. I wondered if I’d made him sad. I wished he’d stayed to talk to me.
“I was angry he left without answering my questions.” I risked a glance at her, and knew by her tight smile she’d read the truth I had omitted.

“What?” My mother watched us both, sensing an unspoken dialogue.

Noni ignored her. “Are you afraid of him?”

“Terrified.”
That I might be attracted to a monster. That I might never get to hear his voice, or touch his skin.

Noni crossed her arms over her chest. I wasn’t fooling her. “You should try to have a dream vision tonight.” She smiled, daring me to argue.

I narrowed my eyes at her.

Dream visions were horrible. Mainly because I’d never learned to control them, relying on my spelled chain to keep them in check. Both my mother and grandmother knew I disliked them, but they didn’t realize how unskilled I was in that area. I swallowed hard and nodded. I had to get better, and the only way was practice. “Okay.”

I glanced at my grandfather’s journal. “Can I borrow that?”

“Of course.” Noni handed it to me, her eyes still curious.

My mom stopped me from going to my room. “Will anyone tell me what is going on here?”

“Nothing, Mom. Noni’s just reminding me to take my skills more seriously. And I will, I promise.”

That appeased her, and though I knew she’d ask Noni for more details later, and was pretty sure Noni would reveal her suspicions, she kissed my cheek and smiled. I spent some time unpacking the car, moving back into my old bedroom. Then I sat on my bed reading Nunu’s journal. At first, every entry was interesting to me, and I lost myself in nostalgia. I teared up when I read the proud way he declared I’d someday be my own boss, and make my living helping people. I laughed at an entry about the coven elections, where he joked that Noni would either have to bite her tongue or use it to apologize.

Then I started scanning for my name, or for any mention of
Fae
or
Faerie
or
Portal
. I found nothing.

“Vinny?” My mom knocked lightly on my door, then poked her head in. “You want to eat? I made string beans with tomato sauce.”

“Sure, sounds good.”

She smiled and walked away. I closed the book, leaving it on my bed, and followed her. The sky had turned pink, and the setting sun streaming in through the windows made the old floorboards glow a deep amber. There was nowhere in the world as safe and comfortable to me as this place, where I could practically feel my family magic around me. I’d missed this house.

“Say when.” My mom scooped polenta onto my plate, and I held my hand up after three big spoonfuls. She used the back of the spoon to make a well in the middle of the mound, and I chuckled. 

“I’m glad I’m home.”

Noni laid her gnarled hand over mine and squeezed.

I filled the depression in my polenta with garlicky, tomato-sauced string beans, and dug in, enjoying the comforting flavors of my childhood. We ate, and shared a couple bottles of wine, while I got caught up on coven gossip. After we’d cleared our dishes, Mom took a plate of cut fruit from the fridge and we all ate from it, stabbing pineapple and melon with our forks.

“There’s a bonfire tonight, I think, at the Sullivan’s.” The comment sounded too casual, and I cocked an eyebrow at her.

A coven bonfire that didn’t happen after an Esbat ritual was pretty much just a party, and mainly functioned as a place for the younger, unattached witches to find partners for no-strings sex. “Mom, are you trying to suggest I should go looking for a hook-up?” I laughed. Three hours ago, I would have welcomed the information and gone to the party eagerly. But not now. “I’m not going out tonight, not with that Fae hanging around.”

“Psh, we don’t need a babysitter, Vincenzo.”

“I know, I just don’t feel right leaving you guys tonight. Plus I have to think about these visions.”

Noni smiled and patted my arm as she took the empty fruit plate to the sink. I helped clean, and polished off the rest of the wine, before heading back to my room.

The wine had gone to my head, and I’d eaten more than I should have, so the first thing I wanted to do when I got to my room was take off my pants. It took a few minutes of digging before I found a nice soft pair of boxer briefs with a closed fly. Not that anyone in this house would care, but I preferred not to walk around with my junk hanging out.

So it was a few minutes before I realized the journal wasn’t on my bed where I’d left it.

I checked the dresser, just in case the wine had dulled my memory. Then the bookcase, then the nightstand on the other side of the bed where I knew I would never have left it because I would have had to walk around the whole bed to put it there…no journal.
Shit
. I lowered my head, trying to think. Had I taken the journal into the kitchen with me? Then I saw it—faint footprints on the floor, the water soaking into the old wood even as I watched.
Shit
.

“Mom!”

We were Italian, but we’d never been a yelling family. She came immediately at my shout.

“What’s the matter?”

“He was here.” I met her eyes. “He took Nunu’s journal.”

She stared at me until I almost cried at the fear and confusion in her expression. No one should be able to enter our home without our knowledge. Ever. Especially not while we were there, eating and laughing in the next room.

“You’re sure?” But she believed me, there was no hope in her question.

I just nodded. “He left footprints.” I pointed to the floor idiotically.

Noni shuffled in, wearing a long nightgown and crocheted slippers even though it was like eighty degrees in the house. “Let me see.”

I sat on the bed and drew my feet up under me so she could fit in the narrow strip of floor between the bed and the wall. The prints were almost gone now, but I didn’t think she was looking with only her physical sight. She stood and stared down at it for a moment, her eyes wide behind her thick glasses. Then she spread both hands out, palms down in front of her, and closed her eyes. My mother kicked off her shoes and walked the perimeter of the room, brushing her fingertips over the walls, sometimes stopping to sniff at the air.

I knew the philosophy of what they were doing, and the basic spells behind it. If an impression was very strong and intentionally left I’d be able to sense it, too, but I didn’t have half the skill they did. So I sat and watched, and thought about the Fae bastard who’d snuck into my room and stole my shit.

The worst part was, underneath my feelings of violation and anger, I was a little excited that he’d been in my room. And, if I was honest, a little disappointed I hadn’t seen him. I frowned and bowed my head, trying to acknowledge these feelings, to accept them. The first step to interpreting visions and premonitions is to identify all your impressions of the vision, all the feelings it wakes in you. Those reactions give clues to meaning.

So as embarrassing as it was, I admitted my attraction to the Fae, if only to myself. I closed my eyes and let it wash through me, the acceptance of these feelings. I thought about all the visions I’d had, what I’d been shown.
He’s not dangerous. He means me no harm.
My eyes snapped open. “Then why am I afraid of him?”

“Hmm?” My mom looked up from where she was crouched near the door.

“Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

She nodded and rose from the floor. “You’ve had a few too many drinks to read anything correctly, Vinny.”

I groaned. She was right, I shouldn’t have had so much wine. My buzz was gone but my perception would still be dimmed.

“Go to sleep. Without your chain.” Noni suggested as she walked across my room. She paused at the door. “I’ll be up for a few hours. If you need waking, I will do it.”

I nodded my agreement, gaze on the floor. Noni knew better than anyone how a dream vision might go, having shared a bed with my grandfather for so many years. In the years before my mom perfected the spelled chain, she had often been the one to wake me when I fell too deeply into a dream vision.

They left and I climbed into bed. The alcohol would actually help with the dreams, dulling my fear and breaking down my resistance. Assuming I would remember everything in the morning, I could interpret them then.

I imagined the Fae, his wet feet on my floor, his body near my bed. Had he looked around? Had he taken anything else? No, Mom would have sensed it during her investigation. But he’d been here.
He’d been right here
. His hand had probably touched the exact spot where I was lying now.