Water Witch (5 page)

I breathed slowly, focusing my thoughts. I wasn’t practiced enough to keep my visions on a specific topic, but I had enough skill to guide myself toward a broad subject. Or try to. I struggled to stay on target, thinking about the missing journal. But as I fell asleep, I wondered if he’d been wearing those long swim tights, or that skirt from my first vision.

CHAPTER FIVE

The skirt. He wore the skirt. Now, up close, I could see it more clearly: a wide solid band at the waist gave way to a fringed skirt made up of thousands of silken aqua-blue strands. I caught a glimpse of thigh, pale and bare, and wondered if he wore anything underneath.

His long hair was braided. I glanced at his face, noted his smile, his sharp cheekbones and bright blue eyes, but my gaze was drawn back to his hair. It hugged his scalp in two thick braids, tied off with something like twine or cord, not a proper elastic. An unusual style for a man. Had he done it himself?

“You like my hair?” His voice came out deep and smooth, much stronger than I’d imagined based on his delicate looks and the one “yes” I’d heard from him in my visions. He slid onto the bed next to me, and I moved over to avoid touching him.

I sat cross-legged on my bed wearing nothing but my boxers, just as I’d worn to sleep, and for a minute I was confused. “This is just a dream.”

“Yes. And no.”

“How can you do this?” At his curious look I added, “Interact with me, I mean.”

He smiled. “One of my skills.”

I tilted my head and scowled at the ridiculous answer.

He laughed softly, blue eyes sparkling. “I can do it the same way you are speaking to me here. With most people your vision is one-way, like closed circuit television. You see, but you remain unseen. However, I am also a receiver, also able to ‘see.’ So together, we can form a network of sorts…like a video conference.” He lifted his chin up in a smug gesture, as if he were pleased with the explanation.

“I’ve never been able to have a conversation inside a vision with any other precognitive witches.”

“I am not a witch. And you could not do this if I were not helping you.”

He had tiny freckles on his nose I hadn’t noticed before, and up close I realized his hair was lighter at the ends than the roots, fading from pale blond to almost white.

I blinked and looked away.
Focus
. “Where is my grandfather’s journal?”

“Safe.”

“Why did you take it? Why are you here?”

He shook his head gently. “I cannot tell you that.”

“Why not?”

He just shook his head again, and I groaned in frustration.

He placed his palm on my knee, a careful comforting gesture, his skin smooth and cool against mine. Desire rose in me, sharp as a knife and just as dangerous. I pulled my leg away. “Don’t touch me.”

He sucked in a quick breath, and I looked up in time to see hurt flash across his face. He folded his hands on his lap and pressed his lips together.

I instantly regretted my harsh tone. “Sorry. It’s just weird that I can feel you touch me in a vision.”

He didn’t buy my excuse, the sadness was still obvious in his eyes, but he accepted the shift in subject. “It should not be weird.” He sighed and stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles. “You must accept that your visions are real. When you understand that they do exist, only in a space outside your physical reality, then you will interpret them better, control them more effectively, and no longer fear them.”

“I don’t fear them.”

He raised his brows and I flushed. Okay, maybe I did fear the dreams a little. “Are you really going to steal my things?”

“I can’t discuss that with you, Vincenzo. Please don’t ask.”

I don’t know why it surprised me that he knew my name, but it did.

“I prefer ‘Vince.’”

He barked out a laugh and turned to me, eyes light again. “You are ‘Vincenzo’ to me.”

Fuck.
The way he’d said that, sweet but a little dominant, sent another spark of desire through me. “Who are you?”

He smiled the same slow smile I’d seen in my first vision of him, and a shiver ran up my back. Maybe he meant me no harm, but that didn’t mean he was safe.

“My name is Salil.”

“That’s… Don’t tell me you’re from India?”

He burst out in a laugh so genuine and deep I couldn’t help smiling in response. “My father was, yes. But you are right, I do not resemble either of my parents. Fae blood is unpredictable. But they named me Salil anyway, and that is who I am.”

I stretched my legs out in front of me, mimicking his position. “Do you ever have visions of me?”

He pushed an elbow back and leaned on it, looking very comfortable in my bed. “I have had visions of you my whole life.”

I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me, his mouth still turned up in a smile and his voice light, but it didn’t matter. He was answering my questions at least. The more I knew about him, the better I could direct my own visions to get the answers I needed. “And what kinds of things do you see in your visions of me?”

“Things that must be and things that may be, events I can change and events I can only endure.”

Well, that wasn’t at all what I meant. And by his cocked eyebrow it seemed he knew that. “Cryptic answers are your thing, huh?”

He laughed again, not as much as last time, but still it thrilled me that I’d caused it. “I see your future, and our future. I do not invade your privacy, if that is what worries you.”

“Could you, though? Can you see whatever you want?” How much did his powers surpass mine?

“I could. But I learned long ago not to do that.”

“Why won’t you tell me the reason you are taking my things? Maybe if I knew more, I could help. Or are you just doing it to hurt me and my family?”

His shoulders dropped and he let out a sigh. “Do you know everything? See all the events of your life before they happen?”

“No.”

“And why do you think that is?”

I curled my lip at his instructional tone. “My grandfather said we’d never see things we weren’t supposed to change, unless they were totally out of our control. So we wouldn’t mess with fate.”

“Do you believe in that?”

I shrugged. It wasn’t something I’d thought much about. “I guess.”

“Well, I do believe in fate. Unfortunately, my premonitions do not have the limitations you enjoy. I see more, much more. Perhaps more than I should. But what to act upon and what to simply observe…that is another issue. A delicate thing. And that is why I cannot tell you where your belongings are, or why I am taking them. Please do not ask me any more. I hate having to deny you, my love.”

“I am not ‘your love.’”
Even if I really liked hearing you say that.

He raised his brows and huffed out a breath. “It is not for you to decide whom I love.”

I stared at him and gritted my teeth, unwilling to say another word. I wished he’d touch me again and hated myself for it.

He returned my stare, a tender smile on his face.

I looked away, not sure what else to ask him, and hid a yawn. “So if we’re really talking here, and this isn’t a vision, what does this mean?”

He slid forward, to the edge of the mattress, and stood. “It means I should leave you to sleep, or your family will wonder why you are so tired tomorrow, and you will have to admit you stayed up late talking in your bed with a man they consider their enemy.”

“Are you our enemy?”

He shook his head, though I wasn’t sure if that meant “no” or if he couldn’t answer. He turned to the door, but before he took a step his body faded and disappeared, and I was alone in my room.

***

I gasped and shot up, completely confused. My room was dark now, not the brightly lit room from my vision, and I was under my thin summer blanket, not atop it. I lay down and pulled the blanket up to my chin.
Shit
.

Falling back asleep took a while.

I realized that I was craving my chain. The comfort of knowing I’d not have any visions, along with the soft dull sensation of the spell, was something I had grown used to. I resisted the urge to wear it, and eventually fell into a fitful sleep filled with mildly sexual dreams about Salil.

At the breakfast table my mother waited with barely concealed impatience for me to reveal any visions I’d had in the night. I considered lying, or glossing over some of the facts, to save myself the embarrassment of revealing my lack of skill, but the interaction with Salil was too important.

“I dreamed of him. It was like we were in the same room, talking, for real. He touched me, and I could actually feel his hand.”

I let her digest that as I poured myself some orange juice.

“Start from the beginning. What were you attempting to see?”

Here we go
. “Well. I don’t really have much luck with that, so I just kept myself open.”

Her mouth gaped for a moment, then shut, but she didn’t say anything.

“I know, Mom. I’m working on it.” My face heated with shame.

She shook her head. “I never should have made you that chain. Learning to deal with the gift of precognition is a struggle, but it is necessary. I thought I was protecting you, but I’ve hurt you.”

“No, don’t think that way.” I sat up in my chair. “That chain has helped me more than you know. It wasn’t your fault I abused it. I’m going to do better from now on, okay?”

She nodded and scooped some eggs onto my plate. “Okay. Well, tell me everything about what you did see, then.”

“I was on my bed, sitting—”

“Wait. Let me get Noni. She should hear this too.” She left through the side door to the garden, where Noni was no doubt watering and weeding already. I wasn’t sure if she ever actually slept.

I explained everything, every detail I remembered, and tried to give them an impression of my feelings without revealing how attracted I’d been to Salil. They saw right through me.

“You feel something for him.” My mother crossed her arms over her chest and pinned me with a classic mom look. Noni snorted and turned away to pour herself a coffee.

“Maybe. I won’t act on it, don’t worry.”

“I don’t trust him, Vinny. No one who sneaks into our home and steals our property is a good match for you.”

“I know, Mom. I agree.”

Noni said nothing, but squinted at me suspiciously. I cleared my dishes and drank the rest of my coffee in one gulp. “I’m going to go out for a while, for a walk on the beach.” I left without giving them an opportunity to ask any more questions.

The beach soothed me. The lapping of water on stones lacked the power of waves crashing on a beach on the open ocean, but it held a familiarity and quiet comfort. I kept an eye out for Salil, and wondered if he was watching me. The shore was empty, though, so I found a quiet, open spot where I would be able to sit in the sun. Walking around the spot, I found five light-colored stones in the sand, and stuffed them in my pockets.

The embarrassment of admitting my weakness with dream visions still stung. Especially on top of my already feeble interpretation skills, and my confusing feelings for Salil. I pulled my phone from my pocket and realized I didn’t even have anyone to call. I’d lost touch with the guys from the coven, and though I knew I could call them and they’d be cool, I couldn’t just dump all these things on them out of the blue. I seriously considered calling Scott.
No. Better to let that bond fade.

Being single and friendless felt like one more failure, and I had to swallow back stupid self-pitying tears.
No, I won’t cry about this
.

I took a deep breath and mentally repeated my old affirmations from high school:
I love myself…I love all others…I am infinitely loved…I forgive myself…I forgive all others
.

Better. Slightly pathetic that I’d reverted to the same emotional state I’d endured as a bullied teenager, but whatever, I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I could fix this.

Visualizing a pentagram on the ground large enough for me to sit inside, I walked the five lines, dragging my feet to form the star in the sand. At each point, I carefully placed a stone. For all I knew, Salil was watching me from afar and laughing at my weak protections. But old habits die hard, and I’d never attempt a vision outdoors without some kind of safeguard. In my home, years of spellwork, layers of positive energy, and all my possessions served to shield me. But out in the open, even in one of my power places, I always felt vulnerable while in a vision.

Sitting cross-legged in the center of my star, I dug my fingers into the sand and closed my eyes. I isolated one sound: the rhythmic slap of water against the pebbled beach. When that alone filled my mind, I moved inward, regulating my breathing, matching it to the tide. Finally I detached my mind from my body, working from toes to head, until my consciousness floated free.

I was looking for more than a vision here. I needed to sharpen my skill. I needed answers.

So without looking in any particular place, not focusing on a person or an event, I floated until patterns began to emerge around me. Some people say they see threads or fibers forming an intricate weaving. Other witches see a grid of connected shapes, like some kind of video game. But I’ve always been shown a network of roots in my Journeying visions.