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Authors: Kimberly Frost

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction

Barely Bewitched (27 page)

BOOK: Barely Bewitched
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Chapter 47

I was definitely drowning. We were flipping and flipping and flipping. And then I was being dragged down and down and down. The world started to fade. Then the river spit us out. Moments passed with us just holding tight to each other and gasping for breath.

Everything hurt, especially my ankle, but my head was above water, and we were floating downstream, easy as you please.

“How come we’re not dead?” I asked dazedly.

“There’s a deep hole at a certain spot under the falls. I used a little magic to put us in it. Unfortunately, there’s an incredibly powerful eddy. It felt like a tornado underwater, didn’t it?”

“How come we’re not drowned?”

Bryn laughed softly. “The water doesn’t want me.”

“Huh?”

“Just a silly old story that Jenson tells. I don’t even remember. Something about a pond.” He paused. “Your hair tastes like smoke. So did your mouth.”

“Yeah, before I almost drowned, I almost burned to death. Tomorrow I’m going to let someone shoot me out of a cannon. Then I’m retiring.”

Steve collected us about a mile downstream from the falls. When we got back to the house, I had to hobble in with Steve half carrying me. But there was tea and cookies, and we got to lie down on a soft bed.

Mercutio sat in the corner eating raw chicken, and my first order of business should have been to sleep, but it wasn’t. I’m as curious as that Pandora girl, so first things first; while Bryn took a shower, I had to ask Mr. Jenson about the pond.

Mr. Jenson sat in a chair next to the bed and poured himself a cup of tea, putting in a generous splash of whiskey.

“We were in the old house then. In Ireland. I heard my wife calling for him and wondered where he’d gotten to. Under furniture, I expected. Then she rushed in, demanding to know where the bairn was. At the same time, Rory Cameron came through the kitchen shouting that he was going to kill the dogs for the racket they were making, barking at the duck pond like fiends. Her face went as white as that pillowcase,” he said, nodding to it. “And we all rushed out, running as fast as we could.

“I spotted his body. So did she, and she let out a cry of grief such as would turn the angels stone deaf. The dogs went deadly silent, and we kept running until we were knee-deep in water, which is when I realized he wasn’t facedown. He was faceup to the sun, floating on his back.

“Then he flipped onto his belly and paddled toward us like a puppy dog would. But no one had taught him that. He was only thirteen months old. Too young for swimming, or so we thought. Well, she snatched him out of that water and ran straight to the house.

“Later, we guessed he’d learned to swim by watching the dogs. But the floating confounded us. The lads, unbeknownst to us, decided to try him out again in a big tub of water. They dunked him, but he floated right up and never cried. When she found out about the dunking, the wife was more furious than I’d ever seen her. And the next time someone mentioned the pond, she cut him right off and announced to the room that there would be no more talking about that day. The water didn’t want him, and that’s all there was to it, she said.

“We never spoke of it again. And she never liked him in the water, though he was a superb swimmer. She was superstitious, you see, and thought that the water might change its mind and take him from us in the end. It didn’t. Something keeps the water from claiming him. A magical spell of some sort, I think.”

“Well, I’m sure glad the water didn’t claim him today. Or me. It definitely felt like it wanted to when we went over those falls.”

“That must have been quite frightening.”

“Yeah, after the past two weeks, my adrenaline gland’s running on empty.”

When Bryn came back, I took a shower, too. This time Mr. Jenson gave me blue silk pajamas, and they weren’t too tall for me. They fit perfectly.

“Where did these come from?” I asked.

Bryn lay on the left side of the bed in black pajamas that looked like maybe Ralph Lauren had designed them, except where the logo should have been there was a small white Celtic cross. He shrugged. “I guess Jenson found them in a drawer.”

Uh-huh. Like once when Georgia Sue told me a few junior leaguers were going to drop by my house, and I made two pitchers of iced tea and a whole tray of finger sandwiches and then pretended like that was normal for me to have on hand. I thought about Mr. Jenson telling me Bryn’s baby stories. And the way he and Steve had started to treat me like I belonged in Bryn’s house. I was beginning to suspect that there was a plot to make me so comfortable that I’d never want to leave.

“There’s a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet,” Bryn offered.

“Mr. Jenson told me. It was real convenient. Thanks.”

“Something wrong?” Bryn asked. I guess he heard the suspicion in my tone.

“Nope.” I pretended to yawn. “Well, you should probably go up to your room now. I’ll just sleep here for a couple hours if that’s okay.”

“Sleep here as long as you want.” He gestured for me to lie down. When I didn’t move, he added, “I’ll go up in a minute.”

I sat cross-legged on the bed, facing him.

“Your throat sounds sore. Jenson left you some cough drops on the nightstand,” he said, nodding toward them.

It’s a conspiracy.
I turned and glanced at the bag. Part of me wanted to resist, but it was the part of me that wasn’t my throat. I test-swallowed. Yep, still scratchy. I grabbed a honey-lemon one, unwrapped it, and popped it in my mouth. “I don’t know the etiquette of this, but I’d like to ask for your butler’s hand in marriage.”

Bryn chuckled. “I think Jenson’s got someone else in mind for you.”

I sure wasn’t letting the conversation go there! Plus, there was something that I wanted to bring up, something that I’d been thinking about the whole time I’d taken a shower.

I tucked my hair behind my ears. “Speaking of what Mr. Jenson thinks about things, he believes there’s a spell that protects you from drowning.”

“There’s no spell. If there was a spell on me, even a protective one, I’d know it.”

“Most babies who fall in ponds drown,” I pointed out.

He shrugged. “I must have learned to float before that. Maybe in the bathtub.”

“You know how you thought there was—” I stopped myself and took a deep breath. “Wait. Let me ask you something first.”

He nodded.

“Let’s say someone had to tell you something that you might not like. Something that might make you embarrassed or even ashamed. Would you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Hold on. Really think about it. Maybe you wouldn’t.”

“I would want the truth. Tell me whatever it is that you think you know.”

I hesitated. “Well, I don’t know anything for sure.” I tapped my fingers together. “You’ve probably already thought of it and decided it wasn’t true.” I sat silently, thinking things over. I didn’t want to sound silly. What were the chances that I’d thought of something that Bryn hadn’t?

“Tamara, for pity’s sake, spit it out.”

I looked up then. “Okay, number one,” I said, holding up my index finger. “You didn’t drown either today or as a baby. Number two,” I said, popping up my middle finger. “You could feel my magic when I was a faery even though you shouldn’t have been able to, even though you cast spells to block most of that kind of non-witchfolk magic.” I lifted my ring finger with the others. “And number three, there was a second poison on that arrow tip they shot me with. It was mud from some special bog, but it shouldn’t have worked on you. It shouldn’t have worked on a human or a wizard. It should only have worked on a selkie. There were only two ingredients missing from the antidote you mixed for yourself. Dandelion and shark oil. The shark oil being the antidote for the bog mud.”

He ran a hand through his glossy black hair.

“The selkies in the legends all have dark hair and light skin. They’re all gorgeous as new shoes and just as hard to resist.” I paused. “You never talk about your mother. What do you know about her?”

“Enough to know she wasn’t a selkie.” He glanced at the ceiling for a time, and I was proud of myself because if his brain was working that hard, it was because I’d given him something interesting to think about.

He finally glanced at me as he got up.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To bed. Aren’t you tired?” He pulled back the covers.

I maneuvered myself into bed and let him tuck me in.

“Should I have held my tongue about my theory?”

“No.” He rubbed his thumb across my bottom lip in a way that made my toes curl. “I always like to hear what you’re thinking.”

“So is it a crazy idea?” I asked because I couldn’t resist.

He hesitated a moment. “Lennox’s mother swam incredible distances in water so cold you’d never want to put your toe in it. So it was a great irony that, after a terrible fight with my grand-father, she went into the water and never came out. There was a storm that night. It sank boats. Of course, even a great swimmer would’ve drowned.”

“Maybe,” I murmured and looked at him. “Or maybe she couldn’t drown . . . You were born a great swimmer, huh? No one had to teach you?”

“So it seems.” He paused. “Also there’s a story Jenson and Lennox haven’t heard. Once in college, while I was playing hockey with my friends, I fell through the ice. They claim I was in the water for twenty-five minutes, but I was sure they must have exaggerated because when they pulled me out, my heart was still beating.”

I digested that information, getting more excited by the moment. I clasped my hands tightly under the covers. “So maybe you’re like me. Part wizard. Part something else—part magical creature.”

He nodded.

I didn’t realize until then how keen I was on not being the only magical mix-up in town. Being unusual’s great if you’re, like, the world’s best basketball player or something else that pays millions of dollars and makes everyone admire you, but it’s not so great if it makes your family live in exile and hide what you are. “So it could be true. How will you find out for sure?”

He bent forward and brushed his lips over mine. Then he walked away. When he was at the door, he glanced back over his shoulder and said, “I’m already sure.”

Chapter 48

Mercutio woke me by tapping his paw on my cheek.

“I’m asleep,” I said.

“Give her cheek a little scratch with those claws. That should wake her,” Edie said.

I opened one eye. “
He
wouldn’t do that. Mercutio loves me.”

“Wonderful, you’re awake. Get up and dress, then. You’re meeting the cowboy in the park in fifteen minutes.”

Cowboy? Who, Zach?
“What? I’m—what time is it?”

“Or I could go there and tell him he can find you here at Lyons’s house.”

I glared at her, but sat up.

“Be in Magnolia Park in fifteen minutes,” she said before disappearing.

I wrinkled my nose in annoyance, then looked at Mercutio as I stumbled from the bed. “Are my car keys here?”

He yowled softly.

“What about my car?” I mumbled, yawning.
No, it isn’t. I’ll borrow Bryn’s limo one last time.
I glanced down at my bare feet and silk pajamas. I didn’t have any daytime clothes to wear. I shuffled out of the guest room and through the dark house. A clock said it was fifteen minutes to seven in the morning.

“You know, Merc, losing my job sure isn’t how I thought it would be. Getting shot, saving the town, getting up before dawn . . . Being unemployed is a lot of work.”

For the first time in days, the town was quiet. I saw some of the places where Nixella had scraped the dust off the trees, leaving behind just the sticky concoction she’d used to trap it.
Our own collection of Honey Bunches of Oaks,
I thought with a smile.

Merc stayed in the limo as I got out and walked to Zach’s truck. He wasn’t inside, so I looked around. I spotted him sitting at a picnic table.

Flower petals covered the ground, and the air was thick with their perfume. I ducked under a canopy of vines, thinking overgrown gardens weren’t all bad.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Is it?”

“We’re not dead,” I pointed out.

“I love that about you, darlin’. When it comes to looking on the bright side, you’re the world’s expert.”

I smiled and sat down. He tipped his tan cowboy hat back.

“So you were right,” he said.

“I usually am,” I teased. “About what?”

“About witches and monsters and all that.”

“Yeah, too bad I am right about all that.”

He paused, and I waited for him to ask me questions, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Abby Farmer claims she can’t remember anything about the night Earl died. I swore out a statement that says I didn’t kill Earl. They’ll probably want one from you, too. Just a formality. With so many people claiming hallucinations and all the chaos and confusion of the past few days, I wouldn’t worry about it. They’ll have to chalk her original statement up to the town’s mass hysteria.”

“That’s good.”

“So,” Zach said and paused. “I’m leaving town for a little while.”

My head snapped up. “Where are you going?”

“I figured while your house is being fixed, you could housesit for me.” He slid a key over to me.

I stared at it, my chest squeezing tight. “You can’t go. Your job’s here and your family.”

He reached over and ran a thumb along my jaw. “Darlin’, you and the town needed me, and I couldn’t help you, not like I wanted to.”

“You helped—”

He held up a hand to silence me. “Your aunt tells me that there are places where human beings train and learn about the secret part of the world. Kind of a SWAT team to fight monsters.”

My mouth dropped open. I didn’t know anything about that. “My aunt? You mean Edie?”

He nodded and stood. I got to my feet, too, as he walked around the table. “So I’m going to see about it.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“The hell I don’t.” He smiled. “You think when trouble comes calling, I’m going to hide behind my girl?” He bent his head and kissed my lips, stealing my breath. “I plan for us to sort out our relationship when I get back. Is that all right with you?”

I nodded.

“Lyons won’t give up trying to steal you from me,” he said.

It’s not really stealing.
“What I do isn’t up to Bryn.” I paused. “But I can’t promise that I’ll never talk to him or see him again. He’s—he helped me a lot this past couple weeks.”

“You want to be with him instead of me?”

“I—” I rubbed my thumb over my palm and stared at his face. I took a deep breath before saying what had to be said. “If I’m being honest, I’d have to say that I don’t know for sure what I want. You and I, we haven’t been able to make things work, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t hope that one day we could. But I’ve also needed Bryn’s friendship, and he’s given it to me. I can’t slam my door in his face.”

“Do you still love me?”

“Yeah. Of course,” I said softly.

He nodded. “Well, can I ask you for one thing, then?”

I held my breath.

“Don’t decide anything while I’m gone.” He squeezed my arm. “Wait until I come back, when he and I will both have the same chance.”

I exhaled slowly as I stared into his denim-colored eyes. “Yeah, that I can do.”

He gave me a heartbreaker smile. “Give me a kiss good-bye?”

I nodded and he kissed me. I melted against him, and his strong arms held me tight. I still cared about him so very much.

When we came up for air a few moments later, he tugged my arms from around his neck. “All right, that’s enough, or I won’t be able to leave.” He smiled once more before turning to go.

Silently, I watched him walk to his truck, get inside, and drive away.

Everything is changing.

I sat back down at the picnic table to think. I was half witch and half faery. I’d saved my town, but helped cause the death of a member of the World Association of Magic. What would all that mean in terms of my life? What did I want it to mean?

I wasn’t sure, but I was pretty certain that I’d never go back to just being a pastry chef again. With magic being in my blood from both parents, maybe I’d always been destined to become more. That was definitely what Edie believed. And now Bryn, who was so often right about things.

I smiled softly, watching the horizon. The sun rose, golden and warm as it ushered in a new day.

BOOK: Barely Bewitched
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